Mask allows artist to expose herself
to the world
by Monika Guendner - Park Record
Holly Pendergast will not pick up a
newspaper to read this story. Nor will she paint with her favorite oil
colors, take an aspirin for her headaches or eat a vegetarian diet.
That's because, while Pendergast looks like a healthy woman in her early
30s, she is violently allergic to newsprint ink, linseed oil, most medications
and soy products.
In fact, Pendergast is allergic to so many things, she only leaves her
house with a charcoal-filter face mask, and only when her neighbor's drier
is not venting perfumed exhaust. At the height of her hyperimmunity, she
was not able to leave her house, just outside of Wanship, for weeks at
a time.
This extreme reaction, known as multiple chemical sensitivity (MCS) or
environmental illness, has done more than inconvenience Pendergast, it
has debilitated her at times with disorientation, delayed vision and depression.
It has also left her virtually jobless.
She made her living from her oil paintings, a passion she has earned money
from her entire adult life. Galleries are asking for more of her work,
but production has been "way down" since January, when she took
advantage of a scholarship for a 10-day class in Scottsdale Ariz. That
trip drove her deeper into her illness.
One of the characteristics of MCS is that an extreme exposure unleashes
violent reactions to chemicals and other environmental factors that only
caused a slight reaction or no reaction before.
"I had symptoms for years, but I didn't know what it was," said
Pendergast.
People with MCS describe the body as a rain barrel, with exposures filling
up the barrel but reactions remaining contained. One soaking rainstorm,
or extreme exposure, however, overfills the barrel and reactions to otherwise
tolerated substances spill out of the body.
One example for Pendergast was the sudden blisters she developed on her
hands, feet and eyelids after eating soy, even though she had been a vegetarian
for years.
She wore a full-face mask during her class in Scottsdale, but with the
exposure to oil paints, turpentine and other chemicals, her rain barrel
was reaching its peak.
After the class, everything seemed to make her sick. A trip to the grocery
store left her in bed for two days afterwards. She began staying at home
to remove herself from any more stimulus.
In the spring, she was tested for allergies to 125 substances. She reacted
positively to 100 of them. Her doctor also tested her liver function,
which was found to be suppressed. Because of this, Pendergast is unable
to process medications that might help to treat her symptoms.
As an independent artist, she does not have workman's compensation or
unemployment to fall back on. Her savings were used when her husband Mike
lost his job in stonework after a back injury that resulted in five fused
vertebrae. The couple's financial goal has been whittled down to making
their mortgage payment each month.
"[The past year] has been such a good lesson for me in humility,"
said Pendergast.
It has also been a test of creativity. After reducing her exposure from
an estimated average 500 chemicals per day to less than 50, Pendergast
began building a sort of incubator in her home that would reduce her exposure
to art supplies even more. Constructed out of plastic and venting to the
outside, she is experimenting these days with acrylic paints.
In the past, acrylics have caused her to shake uncontrollably, but she
is hopeful that her new ventilation system will help. Using water colors
may be her last hope if this venture fails, and even though it will still
be art, it will be a faded version of her vocation.
"I'll do [water colors] if I have to. They're just not the same.
They're not my passion. I like thicker paints, and I'm trying to find
a compromise [with the acrylics.]"
One of the problems with MCS is even though some physicians can identify
it, for many more it is too nebulous to recognize right away. Others dismiss
it outright. Even if a physician does make a diagnosis of MCS, western
medicine has no cure for it.
Pendergast has been accused of having psychosomatic illnesses she spent
two years on antidepressants and talking with a therapist and regularly
receives stares and rolling eyes when she appears in public with her mask.
She has lost much of her social life as well, with only her closest friends
willing to wash their clothes in a specific laundry detergent in order
to visit her.
Those reactions are mild compared to what others with MCS experience rejection
by skeptical family members, taunting, accusations of insanity and even
homelessness. Pendergast considers herself lucky. Despite a dwindling
income, she and her husband have remained close and they can still afford
their small home and car.
Pendergast eventually plans to build herself a safe house, ideally in
the middle of 100 acres, made from natural materials to lessen her exposures
even further. Her sense of smell has increased with the increase in sensitivity
and the isolation would be a barrier to unexpected chemical exposure.
Pendergast believes she can overcome MCS, even though the prevailing opinion
views it as incurable but controllable.
Meditation to calm her mind and immune system has been a key tool in her
recovery from this summer's heightened sensitivity.
Businesses around Park City have been willing to accommodate her specific
needs, from taking her down a resort mountain in a truck to avoid fumes
from a diesel spill to snuffing scented candles at a private club. Pendergast
has been able to enjoy some semblance of a normal life.
She is beginning an active education of area resorts and businesses, giving
them information on what MCS is and how to deal with someone who cannot
be pulled behind the exhaust of a snowmobile or tolerate a plastic hospital
mask. She also hopes to get the word out about MCS to art students and
employees in other professions where chemical exposures are frequent.
She refuses to see herself as a victim of MCS and views every set of rolling
eyes as an opportunity to educate another person about environmental illness.
But just as her art production is slow, so is everything else in her life.
MCS has made her allergic to most foods and she keeps herself on a strict
rotating diet to avoid losing a tolerance to any more food groups. The
once faithful vegetarian now eats mostly meat because her body can still
tolerate it.
"I'm in reaction five days a week because of food, but I have to
eat," she said. "I don't know how people do it alone."
MCS has meant putting off children, at least for now. She says she can
barely consume enough calories for herself, much less for a baby. Adoption
may be an option in the future, if their financial situation improves.
Even as she deals with the ever-evolving challenges of her sensitivities,
Pendergast expresses the spirit of an artist.
"I have to do something with this experience. I have to make something
beautiful out of it."
(c) 2003 Park Record. All rights reserved. Reproduced
with the permission of Media NewsGroup, Inc. by NewsBank, Inc.
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