Ran across this post by "Anonymous" in the comments for today's post on Dr. Siegel's blog. "Federal Court Denies Request for Injunction Against Modified Risk Provisions of FDA tobacco Law, But Suggests These Provisions are Unconstitutional"
Yesterday as I sat in my idling vehicle in the long lineup at the local Tim Horton's, filling my lungs with the intoxicating aroma of internal combustion engine exhaust and partially burned diesel fuel, a strange sensation came over me. My fingers began to tingle, my eyes began to water and alarm bells were going off in my head. I immediately recognized the symptoms of SHS exposure ... often referred to as Environmental tobacco Smoke. A deadly substance by any name!
I realized that I had become the unwilling victim of passive smoking. As I frantically surveyed my surroundings to determine the source of my distress, I noticed a woman, four vehicles ahead of me, smoking with her window down. The carcinogenic cloud spewing from her open window was unmistakable .... SHS! As I fumbled to close my window, I came to the grim realization that it was too late. The dreaded SHS had, by now, permeated my clothing (third hand smoke) and was having a traumatic effect on my thought process (fourth hand smoke).
I desperately searched for my army surplus gas mask and canister attachment, which I carry at all, times when I'm forced to enter or exit buildings where smokers congregate at the entrances. To my horror, I remembered that my safety gear was in the toolbox in the back of the truck. By now my breathing was labored, my heart rate had accelerated dramatically and my life was passing before my eyes. Calling upon my knowledge of history, I recalled how soldiers in WW I had used their ingenuity to combat clouds of mustard gas. I knew that SHS was many times more toxic than mustard gas or phosegene, but it was the only hope that I had left.
Barely conscious, I opened my door and fell from the truck. Tearing my shirt from my back, I unzipped and urinated on what was left of the garment. Pressing this makeshift gas mask to my face, my first instinct was to flee since the urine-soaked rag was a temporary measure at best. I chose to remain and warn others of the lethal cloud, which was rapidly approaching their vehicles. As I stumbled from car to car pounding on windows and shouting warnings, drivers and passengers alike hastily closed their windows and seemingly tried to ignore me or simply stared in horror. "Poor ignorant fools" I thought. Either they didn't recognize the magnitude of the impending disaster or they had already succumbed to the chemical-laden cloud, which, by now, had enveloped the entire drive-thru.
Realizing that I had done all that I could possibly do to reduce the casualty count, I beat a hasty retreat home where I immediately burned what was left of my SHS saturated clothing and buried the ashes in the back yard. After bathing in Lysol for over an hour, I phoned a towing company to have my truck taken to the nearest used car lot. Obviously I could no longer drive that vehicle.
As I sit now and reflect on how my life was so close to being taken away by a careless and inconsiderate smoker, I thank my lucky stars for quick thinking and a full bladder. You can rest assured that, from now on, I will wear my gas mask on every visit to a drive-thru. That is, after I have completed my counseling.
Anonymous | 11.12.09 - 11:39 am | #
