Showing posts with label poison. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poison. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

On the Dangers of Smell and Perfume in the Workplace


On the heels of a piece I'm reading about perfume in the workplace, I'd like to disambiguate and investigate the true dangers of smells.

This post got long on me, so I should outline the ideas. Perfume in the workplace is really a discussion about allergies and in the general sense of the word, so that's what we're talking about here. Allergies, the kind described herein, are psychologically reinforced by the environment and the individual, and very much in the same way as smells. At the end, we’ll take a look at how allergies, again in a broad sense of the word, are part of the chemical warfare between plants, bacteria, and insects, where we get the collateral damage.

Let's begin with the basics. If you smell secondhand smoke, all day, every day, you may develop lung cancer, but not because you smell the smoke. It’s the smoke that is making you sick, not the smell. The smoke goes into your lungs, and from there into your bloodstream. There are more things in smoke than that which we can smell. Carbon monoxide, a very deadly gas, and one which is found in cigarette smoke (and car exhaust), is odorless.

Now, in regards to the workplace scenario, the main distinction is between allergies and oversensitivity. Allergies can cause allergic reaction. We're talking peanut allergies here, for example, which can cause allergic shock, which is a well-defined medical episode. A person cannot go into allergic shock over a perfume (unless they had peanut oil in it, which I will have to assume is illegal by international fragrance laws). A person can, however, develop an oversensitivity to perfume; but this is a very complex situation, and cannot be boiled down to “your perfume is making me sick”.

People develop sensitivities to all kinds of things. I'm extremely sensitive to my ringtone, and can hear it in a running faucet or a creaky swingset. You may be sensitive to your mother's voice, or your lover’s voice, and the auditory stimulus alone can trigger a cascade of physiological operations leaving you with sweaty palms, or a guilty conscience. It is not the stimulus that causes this response directly, but the combination of the stimulus and your own associative memory network, created and reinforced by a lifetime of living.

Every person's life is different, and hence no two people get the same effect from the same stimulus. This is not true for peanut allergies – it doesn't matter who you are; if you have the allergy, you will react in the exact same way as everyone else (allowing for difference in severity).

An auditory stimulus, like someone's voice, is a bit different from a chemical stimulus like a perfume. A confluence of memory, both from the stored experience of the chemical receptors in our skin, and the episodic memory of every physiological state of the body in every moment, the chemical sensitivity that develops is a combination of objective chemical experience and subjective psychological experience.

Here's a good one – let's say you're moving out of your home or apartment. It's a big move, and a big deal. It takes days, and you haven't touched some of this stuff in years. There's dust everywhere and you're stressed. After a couple days of this, you notice that every time you enter the house, you start to get itchy, and kind of irritable in general. The dust has been communicating with your skin, and your skin with your stressed-out brain. Your brain looks for a reason for the stress, but it's all mental. You're not being chased by a predator, not literally at least. Your brain gets wind of these foreign chemicals that keeps showing up on your body-envelope. There – it must be the dust! So your brain triggers an allergic response, in the hopes of getting you to get rid of whatever it is that's causing the reaction.

Poor brain, it can't figure out that the dust is not causing the stress, but virtual things, things in your head. (Brain can't go getting rid of itself, now can it!) Poor brain gets confused.

Now you're at work. Your boss is on your ass, your TPS reports are three days behind, you forgot to pack your lunch today, and your goddamn coworker is like, “I love fruitchouli!” If this happens more often than you care to admit, and you don't share the same love for fruitchouli, then even on the days when you are not as stressed as usual, you might smell that damn fruitchouli; she did one spray too many today, and you pop a blood vessel in your eye.

The smell alone didn't do this. Any environment with loud noises, bright lights, and potent odors is going to make a bad day worse, and a bad headache a migraine. But more importantly, any employee that is being stressed to their limit will become oversensitive to anything. It could be a personal problem, or it could be work-related, but it is the inner physiology of the individual, interfaced with their environment via their psychological state.

If a workplace is considering a no fragrance policy, it might be an indicator that their employees are stressed. Perfume is not the problem, or at least not all of it. And once things have gotten this bad, forcing a policy that prohibits employees from expressing themselves – through clothing, fragrance, etc., might make things worse.

(Granted, there should be common sense limits, and in certain workplaces, it makes sense to limit fragrance altogether.)

***
Here, we’ll be brief. The same chemicals in our perfume, the ones that happen to smell, are the same chemicals used for communication (and warfare) between living creatures. When a plant gets eaten by an insect, it may release a chemical that says, “I'm being eaten by a tasty worm”, a broadcast to any potential tasty-worm-eaters in the vicinity. Perhaps, as a plant flowers, it releases a chemical that says, “Pollinate me!”

Usually, however, it's war. Most of the chemicals we can smell are the same ones produced by plants to fight the other living organisms that want to eat them. In a way, they have evolved as chemical weapons. We are part of the same ecosystem in that every square millimeter of our bodies are covered in microbes. As such, we experience the collateral damage of their chemical warfare in the form of allergic reactions. In a way, many of the beautiful, hypnotizing, potent smells that populate the fragrance market are attacking the chemical receptors embedded in our bodies. It is no wonder we develop allergic reactions to them; the autonomic imperative to “do something” about it is hard to ignore.

Furthermore (because it never ends) many of the smells that come from our bodies are in fact excreted from the micro-organisms that live on and inside us and colonize our bodies over the course of our lifetime. (I think this goes for all body odors, actually; our bodies produce the “food” for these organisms in the form of sweat etc., but the smelly part comes from the metabolism of that food by bacteria, and the eventual waste-products of that metabolism.)

*Folks going through chemotherapy might have their food made to taste bad on purpose, because it is likely that they will throw-up a lot, and if they throw-up that much, after every meal, they may develop an aversion to the food that made them sick, via the smell of it, although it was the treatment, not the food that made them sick. Thereafter, every time they smell their favorite foods, they might get sick at the thought of eating it. So this is a kind of odor-camouflage.

Post Script:
On Chemicals and Toxicity
I just think it's a good idea. I know most readers here already know this stuff, but it's just due diligence. I read something in the comments section of a forum about “the chemical conspiracy”, and it struck me that the more times this is written the better for everyone, so here goes:

Everything is made of chemicals, the good things and the bad things.

The toxicity is in the amount. Too much nitrogen? Dead. Not enough nitrogen? Dead. Water? Same thing. The poison is in the dose. That's it.

Some chemicals smell. Smells can't hurt us, but chemicals can. Smell is the effect of a perception, but a chemical is the source of the perception, via sensation. Smells can indicate that something is toxic, and it may be, but chemicals are not toxic because they smell.

Next. In fragrance, there is an international organization that enforces the use of chemicals where the dosage is not enough to be toxic. Granted, if the base is alcohol, you can drink it and get drunk. Also, some fragrance chemicals are no longer used because they proved to be unsafe for our skin, those being especially the first synthetic musks discovered, called the nitro-musks. Inhaling it as a vapor will not, however, leave you poisoned. Absorbing it through your skin (in the typical dosage) may mess with your skin, but it won't kill you over time.

I wonder, maybe someone can help me out here – If I submerge myself in a vat of fragrance oil, like the one seen in the movie Perfume, what would we have to do to make that fatal? What kind, how much, how long? Is this even possible?

Anyway, folks should also probably consider that perfumers have their heads surrounded by a fragrance-chemical cloud all day, and they don’t turn into mutants or drop dead from toxicity.

Friday, July 7, 2017

Poison Ivy Smells


It's poison ivy season. I have it right now, just a little bit. When I get a lot, I can smell it, not the plant, but I smell it coming out of my skin, usually a day or so after I've been dosed, but before the itching starts to come out. At times, it's the smell that alerts me, and that I should stop itching; itching always seems to make it worse.

I should probably know this already, but I decided today to look it up - what does poison ivy metabolize to while in the body? In other words, what am I smelling.

First, poison ivy has within it a thing called urushiol. It's a sap running through the veins of the plant, and anything that disturbs the plant will release this stuff as microdroplets onto whatever surface it touches. A walking animal, a biting insect, a gust of wind, your dog, a soccer ball rolling on the ground, your lawn mower, or my favorite, a chainsaw ripping through a down sycamore with a hidden 3 inch vine of poison ivy growing on it, in October, can send the stuff wafting in the air as you ride your bike past its cloud of crystalized urushiol that then gets unwittingly lodged in your beard. (By the time I discovered what happened, days later, it was way too late to shave.) That's an extreme event; it usually happens in summer, unless you're doing some thorough spring cleaning, and it usually doesn't 'waft through the air,' unless it's been projected by a chainsaw.

So urushiol gets on your skin, then it gets absorbed into the outer layer of your skin, as all oils do. But then, something else happens to the oil. It enters the blood, and your body breaks it down into some other chemical that is seen as an invader, and your body starts to fight it, leaving you with the collateral damage, that being your red, itchy, peeling, maybe scabbing skin.*

But this is the part where it smells. The body breaks down urushiol into quinones, and the quinone chemicals give you the reaction. The quinones also give you that smell. I look for urushiol metabolites, find quinone, or 1,4-Benzoquinone to be specific, and look for odor properties.

And?

"chlorine, bleach, and hot plastic"

Wow, that's it. That's what poison ivy smells like when it comes out of your body. See if you can pick it out this season, a day or so after that camping trip, but before the histamine hijacking begins.


*The poison ivy reaction will only appear where the oil originally touched you. Even though it has to get into your blood to become active, the activated metabolites do not travel around the body and show up in other places at random. Instead, they stay where they contacted you initially. This process, where the urushiol is converted into reactive quinone, happens at different rates on different parts of the body, because the thickness of our skin varies. The palms of your hands will never get poison ivy because they're too thick. The skin on your face, however, is very sensitive, and if your whole body got covered in one day, your face would probably get it first, and your forearms would get it maybe two days later, making it seem like it's spreading around in your blood, but it's not.


Notes

Urushiol on Toxnet, the US Hazardous Substance Database:
https://toxnet.nlm.nih.gov/cgi-bin/sis/search/a?dbs+hsdb:@term+@DOCNO+7485

ancillary sources:
http://www.poison-ivy.org/
http://students.umw.edu/healthcenter/files/2011/08/Poison-Ivy.pdf

Terminology

synthetic urushiol:
5-methyl-3-n-pentadecylcatechol
(commonly called catechols)

urushiol metabolite:
1,4-Benzoquinone
(commonly known as para-quinone,or simply quinone)

Post Script

Some good random facts from the internet:

  • Only 1 nanogram (billionth of a gram) is needed to cause a rash.
  • The average exposure for most people is 100 nanograms.
  • 1/4 oz. of urushiol is all that is needed to cause a rash in every person on earth.
  • 500 people could itch from the amount covering the head of a pin.
  • Specimens of urushiol several centuries old have been found to cause dermatitis
  • in sensitive people.
  • 1 to 5 years is normal for urushiol oil to stay active on any surface including
  • dead plants.
  • The name is derived from urushi, the Japanese name for lacquer