Читать книгу Sweet Poison - Janet Starr Hull - Страница 19
ОглавлениеI called my sister to let her know what was happening. When I told her about my Graves’ disease, she astonished me by confessing she also had the disease.
“You never told me you had Graves’ disease, Beth,” I said. Beth had left Dallas after she graduated from high school more than twenty years before. Our communication was not always the best since she moved away, but I was embarrassed I didn’t even know my own sister was diagnosed with Graves’ disease. She began relating her symptoms. Beth had a form of Graves’ disease that affects the eyes. Coincidentally at this time, President and Mrs. Bush and their dog were each diagnosed with Graves’ disease.
The media rumbled about how unusual it was that non-blood relations within the Bush household had simultaneous cases of Graves’ disease. The chances of this happening were around one in ten thousand, they reported. They also commented that thyroid problems are unusual in men and even more unusual in dogs! Men and dogs don’t have the same endocrine system as women, making it uncommon for them to contract thyroid disorders like Graves’ disease.
The trail of Graves’ sufferers I knew or heard about was growing. I found it most curious that my adopted sister and I both had Graves’ and that President and Mrs. Bush both had Graves’. Feeling like a detective I tried to follow the clues. Could the Bushes’ dog have been exposed to the same trigger that caused his owners’ disease? Table scraps, maybe? A taste of dessert, bread with jam? I knew the Bushes, especially Mrs. Bush, were very diet conscious. Did they use products with aspartame? It seemed likely. After all, didn’t most people who had a craving for something sweet and didn’t want to overindulge in that culprit—sugar—choose a substitute like aspartame?
To date, no one has discovered a cause for Graves’ disease, but at the time of the Bushes’ thyroid problems investigators suspected faulty piping in the vice-presidential home might have contaminated their drinking water, possibly overloading their thyroids with toxic metals. Investigators were on the right track in tracing the cause of the Bushes’ Graves’ to an environmental overload of chemicals deposited in the thyroid, but they stopped their investigation short of finding a specific chemical.
Like them, I was becoming more and more convinced that my Graves’ was caused by an overload of a toxic chemical. The question which they’d given up on was the same question I continued to ask. Which chemical? I wondered what chemicals were in aspartame and asked myself how I could find out.
Was I looking for a needle in a haystack? Luckily, I was competent in investigations like this because of my environmental background. As a professional engineer, it was my job to investigate toxic chemicals deposited in soil and groundwater. Could I pioneer an investigation to successfully expose the chemical or chemicals deposited in my body?
I focused my investigation on the Bushes’ two cases of Graves’ disease, trying to trace any environmental similarities between the illnesses of President and Mrs. Bush and that of my adopted sister and myself. I read every obtainable article and watched every interview with the Bushes in which they discussed their cases of Graves’ disease, what the doctors did before and after they destroyed their thyroids with radioactive cocktails, what they ate, how they lived, where they traveled, their exercise routines, their personal histories, everything I could find for clues. I presumed that unless President and Mrs. Bush were traveling in separate cities, they most likely ate, drank, and slept in the same places.
How did this relate to my sister and me? Neither of us did the same things or traveled the same places as President and Mrs. Bush. So what did the four of us living in different surroundings with very different lifestyles do which was identical?
I considered whether my sister and my Graves’ might source from the way we were raised. But I quickly discarded this idea. Mom brought us up on southern home-cooked meals and flu shots every year. Childhood dinners and midnight refrigerator raids had departed from our systems by now. Beth and I both agreed that the cause had to be something we did, and were still doing, after leaving home.
Maybe Beth and I, having been raised in the same household, now ate the same type of foods. I wondered if my sister’s pantry looked like mine. We had lived in different cities for many years, but we still might eat similar things. We might even be eating or drinking the same things the Bushes did. We all might be causing the Graves’ disease ourselves.
Like “sisters in crime,” Beth and I began scanning our diets. We compared foods that we both ate regularly. Nothing too unusual popped up, until I mentioned drinking a lot of diet drinks. Beth interjected, “That’s funny. Lately, I’ve been buying a lot of sugar-free foods with the NutraSweet label. I’m always so thirsty. I sip diet drinks all day long because I’m developing problems with my blood sugar.”
“I’ve been drinking them because of my weight problem.”
Despite our motivations being different, to me, the fact that both Beth and I had developed Graves’ after we both started heavily drinking diet sodas was more than coincidental. Within a few weeks of our conversation, Beth’s condition worsened. She became an insulin dependent diabetic. One morning just after waking, Beth checked her blood sugar to find it so low she was rushed to the hospital, by that time nearly in a coma. Even though we were not blood sisters, I had no doubt I might soon follow in her footsteps. After all, I had duplicated her path of illness so far. That scared me. Again, what were the odds of adopted sisters both developing Graves’ disease and both possibly diabetes? What were we doing the same?
I had never used anything with aspartame until a year or so before my Graves’, but Beth confessed she had been using saccharin in her coffee and iced tea, until, after NutraSweet was introduced, when saccharin became harder to find. It was also around this time that saccharin started getting bad publicity, which worried her. As we talked, Beth remembered first developing blood sugar problems around this time. Now she was insulin dependent. Coincidence? I thought it had to be the diet sweetener. But how?
The year before my Graves’ diagnosis, I fell into the trap of believing “sugar-free is responsibility-free.” Advertisements convinced me I could eat and drink all I wanted without paying the price of gaining weight. “How could I have been so gullible?” Beth bleakly added, “But what else can a diabetic use?”
“We’ll find something safe,” I promised.
Meanwhile, my own body continued to stabilize. The purified diet, the vitamins, and no aspartame seemed to be returning me to health. I was more convinced than ever that it was the aspartame which had been making me sick during the past year. Now, I had to prove it.
I also was beginning to feel I never actually had Graves’ disease. Maybe the real Graves’ can’t be cured. Perhaps my symptoms simply mirrored those of the disease. Could they be, instead, a reaction to aspartame’s toxins accumulating in my thyroid gland that mimicked textbook Graves’?
As I learned more and became more convinced of aspartame’s dangers, I also began hearing stories of others who had reacted negatively. I decided to write to the NutraSweet Company to tell them of my experience. When they wrote back they labeled my experience as anecdotal, which meant they didn’t think it proved a thing because I was not an “official” laboratory guinea pig. I disagreed. I knew what I experienced, and my experience was real and could be summed up very simply: no more aspartame—no more Graves’ disease. That was proof enough for me.
Moreover, knowing that there had to be too many other people similarly suffering as Beth and I had, made me want to do something, anything, to warn them of the dangers of aspartame.
I thumbed through the phone book and called a number listed under Speakers Organizations. If I was going to reach the public, I wanted to learn the best way. They recommended I talk to a woman who could help me get started, Mary Nash Stoddard.
Once again, fate seemed to direct me. A publicist by profession, Mary, I soon found out, had founded the Aspartame Consumer Safety Network (ACSN, Inc.) in 1987. It was a coincidence that astounded me. The ACSN is an international consumer safety organization founded to inform the public about the background and questionable safety of aspartame (NutraSweet). Mary exclusively funds the organization and dedicates countless hours day and night answering a toll free aspartame hotline.
When we met, Mary shared some impressive facts about aspartame which outlined the dangerous side effects the diet sweetener had on laboratory monkeys, rats, guinea pigs, and humans. She apologized for being so straightforward. After all, she didn’t know me and we didn’t meet to discuss the dangers of aspartame but to launch my speaking career. She felt this information might help me to help others who were suffering similar symptoms.
Mary quickly exposed me to the politics of the food industry, which was a real eye-opener. “I can’t believe how naive I’ve been. Probably,” I said, “millions of other people around the world like me believe anything sold for consumption is safe. Too many untrustworthy decisions directly affecting our health are being made by the wrong people: bureaucrats, politicians, big business executives. Not only was I being bamboozled, but millions of other people are being victimized.”
“There are some documents I need to show you,” Mary said soberly. The documents she gave me were shocking. They showed that aspartame is found in thousands of food products. Research studies as early as the 1970s showed holes in the brains of laboratory mice fed aspartame! The FDA had received several thousand official complaints against aspartame. Three Senate hearings had been held to debate the public safety of aspartame, but nothing had ever been adjudicated.
The true history of aspartame was deeply disturbing. I was disappointed in the American government, notably the FDA, which I had always believed ensured the safety of the food we ate. However, I now learned that the FDA possessed the results of research which proved beyond a reasonable doubt that aspartame consumption was risky.
Among the documents Mary showed me was a letter written by Linda Tollefson in 1987 about aspartame complaints and safety, and printed by the Office of Nutrition and Food Services for Safety and Applied Nutrition (CFSAN) of the United States Food and Drug Administration. According to Tollefson, over 3700 complaints were received by CFSAN, of which, seventy-seven percent were from females between twenty and fifty-nine years of age. Of the seventy different symptoms reported, ten percent were considered severe, including headaches, seizures, and allergic, gastrointestinal and behavioral reactions. Tollefson offered two tables that broke down the reported complaints by the product they were associated with and by the symptoms that accompanied the reactions. Over 1900 complaints were associated with diet soft drinks—the most of any product reported. Other products reported to have adverse symptoms associated with them were: table top sweetener (1002 complainants), puddings/gelatin (348), lemonade (283), powdered fruit drink mix (268), hot chocolate (229) and iced tea (218).
Headaches topped the list of symptoms reported with over 1000 complainants. It was followed by dizziness/balance problems (461), mood swings (399), vomiting and nausea (364), abdominal pain and cramps (268), seizures and convulsions (211), and changes in vision (186). Since CFSAN gathered the data from victims and their physicians and not from a controlled laboratory setting, Tollefson warned of the difficulty in interpreting the data. However, the number of people reporting the same reactions without knowing they were one of many, were too powerful to ignore. I was astounded by the results of this study that took place years earlier.
Another document that Mary showed me was equally disturbing. It was an article written by H. J. Roberts, M.D. and published in the Journal of Applied Nutrition. Dr. Roberts collected data from surveys of respondents and used information in his article from 551 persons he labeled “aspartame reactors” because of their quick responses to aspartame (when it was removed from their diets and added back to their diets). Unlike the CFSAN study, Roberts’ was able to interact directly and frequently with the participants in his study which allowed him to monitor their consumption of aspartame. He was able to establish what he believed was a causative relationship between adverse effects and aspartame consumption based on two things: “(1) the relief of complaints shortly after avoiding such products [that contain aspartame], and (2) their recurrence within hours or days of re-exposure [to aspartame], frequently inadvertent.” I had only gotten through the introduction and I was already shocked at what I read. The next thing I read was even more appalling. Roberts quickly reviewed the three components that make up aspartame: phenylalanine (fifty percent), aspartic acid (forty percent) and methyl alcohol (ten percent). Methyl alcohol, which is more commonly known as wood alcohol, is toxic. Although Roberts did not discuss the components at any length, I made a mental note to research these three items and how they react with the human body. I continued reading, curious to see what Dr. Roberts would reveal about aspartame’s effect on the people in his study.
The participants in Roberts’ study consisted of 406 females (seventy-four percent) and 145 males (twenty-six percent). The average age was forty-three, but they ranged in age from two years old to ninety-two years old. More than 250 people in the study said they used aspartame as a sugar substitute because of a weight problem. The majority of the participants (almost 350) said they stopped using aspartame completely when they first thought it was responsible for their symptoms. Of those people, ninety-six percent reported that their symptoms improved and seventy-four percent claimed that their symptoms disappeared entirely. These results made me believe that the vast majority of people who believe their symptoms are caused by consumption of aspartame are absolutely correct. Even if a few people who linked their problems to aspartame were wrong, the overwhelming number of people who, to me, were obviously being effected by the artificial sweetener should not and could not be ignored. It seemed to me, after reading Dr. Roberts’ article, which went on to give descriptions of several case studies, that aspartame was affecting people in ways we couldn’t imagine. And, even if some people could use the product without apparent problems, the multitude of people sensitive to it was reason enough to investigate the symptoms further. Yet, the FDA appeared to believe aspartame was safe, placing no credence in the complaints and symptoms documented independently and suffered by thousands of victims. The FDA gave the public no warning, and the chemical was allowed into our food supply. Why hadn’t I heard about this before now? Why was I only now reading these reports and studies on the dangers of aspartame? The impact this sweetener had on these people whom I read about and on my own thyroid gland was appalling. Although my suspicions about my own illness had now been confirmed, I vowed to keep on researching the topic over the next days and weeks.
Time was quickly passing. Three months had already passed. I felt better and had no signs of Graves’ disease. I was ready to see my physician and to confess what I had been doing and not doing. I really wanted to tell him what I’d found out about aspartame. I wanted him to know that I was on a natural food and vitamin-supplement program. But I waited, gathering more and more information, making sure I was confident of all of my facts before I would tell him that I hadn’t been taking my thyroid medication and that I had found the cause of my thyroid symptoms. “The proof is in the pudding” was the adage I adopted. My good health had to tell him something. My thyroid was normal. My blood pressure, cholesterol, and heart rate were normal, too. I was no longer experiencing those intense migraine headaches and my mood swings were gone. My blurred vision and night blindness had slowly subsided, yet the retinal tearing in both eyes remained. My equilibrium was normal again, and my menstrual periods were right on schedule with no spotting in between.
Finally, the moment I’d been waiting and hoping for had arrived. Carrying a huge briefcase of papers, I arrived for my regular doctor’s appointment and stretched out my arm for one last conclusive blood test. I waited for the results.
“What’s the verdict, Nurse?” I asked one last time.
“Normal,” she replied.
Never had I felt such confidence. “I would like to see the doctor in his office, if I could, please.”
Making some notations on my file, she excused herself and went to find him. Returning moments later she said, “Come this way.”
She escorted me into the doctor’s office. Despite my new found confidence my palms were sweaty and I was nervous as I trudged along hugging my briefcase. I had taken a chance going against the doctor’s medical expertise. He didn’t even know for the past three months I hadn’t been on any medication. “He can really tear me down for this,” I murmured, thinking out loud. “Do I want to set myself up for disapproval? I must.”
“Did you say something,” the nurse asked, turning around to look at me.
“No, nothing at all.”
“That way. Last door on your right,” she said pointing down a short corridor. She turned and walked away, leaving me to face the doctor on my own.
I found the doctor sitting at his desk, looking down at a file as I timidly entered his office. I guessed it was mine. I took a very deep breath. I walked toward him. I nervously stumbled over my own feet, but disguised the blunder by falling into one of his oversized leather chairs. We sat in silence and stared at one another for what seemed an hour, but was only a few minutes on the clock I watched on the wall. He idly thumbed through my medical file. We each waited for the other one to open the discussion.
He broke the silence. “Your thyroid has returned to normal and has done so in record time,” he said. “How very unusual it is to encounter someone who has recovered from a case of Graves’ disease,” he added, looking at me uneasily. “But you are indeed an unusual patient.” If only he knew how unusual! As he continued to speak so highly of my successful recovery, I began to think of the right words to tell him what I had kept secret over the past three months. I wanted to share what I had done, but I was uneasy confessing my insubordination.
Instead of speaking, I lifted dozens of vitamin bottles from my oversized purse and neatly arranged them on one side of his desk, each one rattling and clanking with tablets and capsules. On the other side of the desk I stacked copies of articles Mary Stoddard shared with me and piles of the documents on aspartame I uncovered through my own research. Finally, I spoke. “Each of these documents verifies the dangerous effects from the aspartame in NutraSweet. Dangerous effects on people,” I stated. “Effects ranging from migraines to PMS and menstrual problems—everything I experienced.”
As he reviewed them, his response was uncharacteristic for a doctor, but I loved it: “Boy, this aspartame is bad shit!” he blurted out.
Ha! I smiled.
As he continued to scan the papers, he acknowledged the information with concern. “You know,” he admitted, “I learned very little nutrition in medical school and I am completely unaware of any problems with NutraSweet’s aspartame products. I’m really much too busy to keep up with the countless changes developing in pharmaceuticals,” he continued.
“So, I subscribe to an information service that supplies me with the latest information in the industry, by the industry. I’ve never received any information about aspartame. Why haven’t I heard about this before?” he asked.
I smiled again and replied, “That’s the question all of us should be asking. I have my theories,” I went on. “And I think pockets run too deep for simple answers. However, I am convinced it’s the sugar-free stuff that made me very sick.”
My confidence building with his positive response, I handed him an article written by Lendon Smith, M.D. “Dr. Smith is a noted pediatrician and author. He has been featured on numerous television and radio interviews concerning contemporary health issues.”
“I’ve seen him on TV,” the doctor said.
I nodded. “Dr. Smith has stated that eighty-five percent of all complaints registered with the Food and Drug Administration concern reactions to aspartame, the sole ingredient in NutraSweet, and there have been four known deaths in FDA files listed under aspartame symptoms.
“It’s funny,” I went on. “Symptoms of using products with aspartame run the gambit. Over ninety-two different symptoms are documented—ninety-two! Some people get headaches, some nausea and vertigo. Others suffer with insomnia, numbness, or blurred vision. One person may become hyperactive and another suffer extreme fatigue. Dr. Smith listed neurological, dermatological, cardiac and respiratory problems associated with the use of aspartame. He reported symptoms of food sensitivities, low blood sugar, Alzheimer’s disease, chronic fatigue syndrome, amalgam-filling disease and methanol poisoning. Everyone agrees that their symptoms vanish when all aspartame use is terminated.”
I shifted about in my chair, making the doctor shift around in his.
“Even though aspartame is about one-hundred-eighty-times sweeter than sugar,” I continued feeling like I was the doctor, and he the patient, “it isn’t worth it when you find out what’s in it. There’s the amino acid phenylalanine, which is a known toxin to the brain and causes seizures. There’s the amino acid aspartic acid, which can cause brain damage, especially to a developing brain. And then there’s methanol, which creates eye problems and, when heated, turns into formaldehyde—embalming fluid, an obvious toxin—unless you’re dead!”
I pushed on, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of the doctor. “Aspartame does not affect everyone equally. Common to most chemicals in solution, aspartame dissolves in the body. Its toxic by-products can then be deposited anywhere. Usually in the weakest spots, like my thyroid gland, making it even weaker and eventually breaking the system down.
“This is one reason why there are so many different symptoms related to using products with aspartame,” I continued lecturing. “The chemical by-products dissolve in the blood and travel throughout the entire body. Who knows where the wastes will be deposited? They can go to the brain and cause headaches. If they go to the eyes, the results can be blurred vision, blindness, and in my case, retinal tearing. Toxins deposited in the pancreas can cause hypoglycemia and diabetes. And if they go to the thyroid, of course, you can get Graves’ disease.
“Dr. Smith asked in one of his articles, ‘Why is the scientific community having trouble evaluating these reports? Might there be a substantial loss of revenue involved?’” I shoved Dr. Smith’s article across the slick desktop.
“You know, Doctor,” I stated, “if I unknowingly eat or drink anything with aspartame, I have an instant reaction. This has happened twice in the past three months. I took the kids to the cafeteria a couple of weeks ago. We all grabbed a cherry gelatin. I didn’t realize it was diet—it wasn’t labeled ‘sugar-free.’ But, boom! I had an immediate reaction. I got one of my bad migraines within minutes. I had to sit in the cafeteria holding my head until the pain subsided. Another time, my girlfriend served me lemonade sweetened with aspartame. Both times, my heart immediately started beating faster, I developed headaches, started to sweat, and got very, very hot. I had trouble breathing and suffered an asthma attack. Exercise induced asthma, I believe you call it. But I wasn’t exercising. I was sitting still. Within minutes, I knew I’d fallen prey to hidden aspartame,” I concluded. “I’m like a barometer for aspartame-laced foods,” I said, jokingly. Maybe some humor would lighten the mood, I thought. The doctor didn’t crack a smile.
