In the Basement
The following is an account of our first step as scavengers:
In the basement are boxes and file cabinets and storage bins. These are filled with odds and ends. Crystal and china. An old set of dishes. Christmas ornaments. Picture frames. Pint glasses and coffee mugs.
There’s a stock pile of household goods shelved above the stairs. Trash bags. Kleenex. Toilet paper. Shampoo. And beneath the stairs, there’s a mountain of stuff that has already been sorted to donate or sell.
Over there is the Christmas tree. An old wooden chair. The suitcases, just a few years old.
Against that wall is the leaning tower of classroom files. Second grade. Third. Middle school literature and English. Stickers. Posters. Tests. Math manipulatives. Games.
And there. Set apart from the rest. There is the pile saved with a desperate hope. It’s the high chair. The swing. The bath tub and car seat.
This.
All of this.
This came out of the house today.
The Job
We picked like scavengers through dish packs and crates, for any glass or metal that we might save.
In the end, from it all, we collected four half-full rubbermaid containers of clinky, clanky stuff.
The rest of it, all of it, went into two waiting trailers.
Destination dump.
To the naked eye, all of it looked well and normal.
Our help kept saying, “Are you sure you want to throw this out?”
Yes.
Yes, I’m sure.
The Why
Microns measure toxic mold spores. One micron is one millionth of a meter. For comparison, human hair is about 100 microns thick. Mold spores which do not produce toxigenic substances range in size from two to ten microns. But toxic sporing mold, like the Aspergillus, Stachybotrys, and Chaetomium found in our home, can produce mycotoxins as small as .1 microns. These mycotoxins can enter the body through the eyes, lungs, and can even be absorbed through the skin.
Mycotoxins are some of the most toxigenic substances on earth. After the war with Iraq, a United Nations Special Commission discovered that Iraq had been developing biochemical weapons using Aflatoxins, which are the mycotoxins produced by Aspergillus. Yes. This substance of biochemical warfare is present in my home.
Twenty-four percent of the American population has an HLA DR mutation which hinders the body from detoxing from mold exposure. Mycotoxins are stored in fat tissues when they are not cleared by the body. The higher the toxic exposure, the more fat the body will create to store the toxins. These toxins then hinder the natural processes of the immune system and even affect the neurologic functioning of the brain.
What People Don’t Understand
When our help looked at all of the baby stuff and said, “Why don’t we put it on the curb? Someone will pick it up,” I said, “Absolutely not.”
What looks well and normal, is anything but. I could not live with myself knowing that some small child might sit in our high chair and have a twenty-four percent chance of immune disfunction as a result of the toxic exposure.
Looking Forward
Even though most of the contents of our basement were relocated to the dump, this first step is likely to go down as the easiest for us. We had already been living without this stuff. What’s been in a box for five years, we clearly don’t need in our lives. We probably won’t even miss it.
When we were through, though, I stood looking down into those four half-full rubbermaid containers and a wave of sickness rushed over me. We put every piece of glass and metal into them; every non-porous item that might be saved with ammonia and a day spent baking in the sun. These items were the winners. The lucky ones. And I felt sick because, in truth, I don’t want the items in those containers. Maybe a tenth of what’s there, I would actually like to keep for sentimental reasons. As for the rest, I’ve been living without them already. I don’t need them. I’m not even sure it’s worth my time to clean them up and make them usable again.
A Deep Ache
The sickness that ached deep inside of me was and is for all the things I want to save, but know that I cannot. And as for what’s left…what can be saved…I didn’t even want most of it.
To end our morning at home, I closed the lid on those four plastic containers. I’ll consider their contents again another day. Maybe I’ll feel different. Maybe not. We finished the work for today. The basement is a clean slate, ready for remediation.
All will be well and normal again one day.
Truly. It will.
I have to believe that it will.
