Tag Archives: thimerosol

Genes

Even though I miss my boys during the summer, I enjoy being by myself so much. I savor the quiet. I enjoy being free to spend my time at what I choose, but especially, I enjoy not having to talk. And that’s kind of the stereotypical hallmark of autism, isn’t it? Not talking? Of course, there’s a world of difference between not wanting to and not being able to. But stay with me . . .

My mother said that when I was a baby I would get on my hands and knees and bang my head into the headboard of my crib in a rhythmic, repetitive way. And I rocked. As a child I rocked myself on couches if there were no rocking chairs available. To this day I love to rock, I love the soothing element of the motion. Isn’t that a form of stimming? Rocking and banging my head repetitively?

Apparently I was also resistant to touch, to contact. I am told that I didn’t like to be held. Where have we heard this before?

This is why I believe that some people are genetically predisposed to autism. Even though I was not autistic (I talked very early and exhibited a high level of social awareness), I can see some faint characteristics in my infant and childhood self. The writing was on the wall. All it took was the combined genes of someone else who had been a bit like me, a dose of terbutaline in utero, and a whopping bombardment of thimerosol within the first few months of life and  . . . voila! Autism.

More Vaccines

Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water . . .

I’m not against vaccines. But today at Nigel’s 13-year physical, the nurse informed me that he should have three more vaccinations: tetanus (with diphtheria and pertussis), hepatitis A, and meningitis. And they offered to give all three at once, as a convenience to me. I blanched at the thought.

Deep breath. As I have mentioned before, I don’t think thimerosol-laden vaccines are the sole cause of autism. I do, however, believe that they are (were – if we trust the labeling of thimerosol-free vaccines) a contributing factor to the presence of autism. A notable contributing factor, in some cases.

Nigel’s last “booster” vaccinations were seven years ago. In 2001, I don’t think I had heard of thimerosol. I think at that point, thimerosol had not been isolated as a possible culprit. There were groups of so-called fanatical parents who supposedly believed that the vaccines themselves caused autism. And I didn’t think that the vaccines themselves were to blame. So I agreed to the three boosters (did I have a choice, school district?) and unwittingly injected my son with more mercury.

And now that the thimerosol-laced vaccines are no longer being produced, I should feel fine about continuing to inoculate my son, right? On paper, I do feel okay. But something nags at me. Something makes me feel like I should avoid the vaccines. It’s just a little feeling. I wish I didn’t feel it, because I think at this point it’s irrational. It’s this “here we go again” feeling, a deja vu feeling, an I-know-better-now feeling. And I will shelve it, because I believe it when they tell me that thimerosol is no longer being used in children’s vaccines. Maybe I just want to believe it. But I sure as hell hope it’s the truth. It’s the least we deserve.

Vaccinations are never a pleasant experience but are essential when dealing with certain diseases, especially if traveling abroad. For UK readers, there are a range of vaccination services for fighting diseases at your local private clinic in London.