And then there were none…
Jobs that is. I have committed to applying for disability retirement through my teaching union. It’s been a long, arduous process of attempting to return to a state of relative normalcy and to continue to do the only thing I was ever sure I wanted—to teach literacy.
My mind and body have not yet returned to balance, and I have to give up my career (in one sense anyway), one I imagined since the second grade. It was a successful run until an insect bite took my physical health in 2018, and students and work situation destroyed my mental health in 2019.
I developed a sensitive system—reacting to foods, heat/cold, fragrances, vibrations, stressful situations—getting flushing, hives, brain fog, heart palpitations, dizziness, sweats, pain, face and extremity swelling, wheezing daily, vomiting three to four days per week, and ultimately anaphylaxis on several occasions. I worked successfully with ADA accommodations for a time through HR. After needing to tell my students about my illness, they began purposely spraying fragrance and eating in class to trigger my reactions.
From day one of school in 2019, until December of 2019, my doctors were increasing medications to control reactions. My doctors told me to limit chemical exposure in Sept, Oct, Nov of 2019, but I couldn’t implore the students stop and admin would not, did not, intervene. I couldn’t get a handle on why it was getting worse even with taking 30 pills a day to manage. Students were still spraying themselves before class, applying scented lotion, eating candies in class to set off my sensitivity. I contacted my building union rep, my local chapter, my state union without getting necessary help.
I modified my diet, ate clean, didn’t drink alcohol, used organic and fragrance free products. I gave up gluten, dairy, meat to stabilize. Someone finally able to help—my Allergist/immunologist—told me he couldn’t explain exactly why it was happening because it would be over my head and theirs, but that just because we don’t understand it doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. He again wrote me a work note to avoid fragrance.
I have had over 192 doctor appointments since the bite and counting. So many scopes in all my orifices, skin biopsies, two bone marrow biopsies, specialist referrals from specialist referrals. Neurology suggested a psychologist, typical for women seeking treatment for chronic illness. I was referred to gynecology for hormones to be ruled out as the cause. Allergy shots, chiropractic, acupuncture, homeopathic, massage, reiki, crystals. My primary care doctor, now retired, asked if I had tried prayer.
I began having panic attacks before work, at work, when talking about work, thinking I might die from exposure. My classroom filled with furnace fumes over two days. My mental health was slipping, I was dx with depression. I wasn’t sleeping due to horrible body pains. I began having frequent migraines and prescribed opioids for pain relief.
I said to my husband, “if I die at work, make sure you go after them.” We didn’t want it to come to that. Without an alternative from HR or my admin team, I applied for medical leave.
In February 2019, before Covid shut down the schools, I hired an accommodation attorney and thus began the hell that has been my life since then.
More to come…
*edited to omit legal terms
