Where does a story begin? When life is progressing according to plan? Or when life implements its own plan?

Hello, I am the webmaster of this site and I also have MCS.

This story was born from my experience with Multiple Chemical Sensitivities between 2002 to the present day. I have wanted to tell this story for years, but felt like I had to first "accomplish" something with the challenges I was given. Although living with MCS in and of itself is an accomplishment, I have always been a big dreamer. So, read on about this woman's journey into illness, into health and into a life's passion of music.

Where does a story begin? When life is progressing according to plan? Or when life implements its own plan?

I was 24 and a freshman in University. I had quit my job as webmaster for a power company to earn my B.A. double major in English Literature and Digital Image & Sound. Since the age of 10 I have sung, played piano and written songs. After high school, I studied classical music. Though I much preferred contemporary music, I knew of no programs that taught what I wanted. I figured the English degree would give me a good foundation, especially for writing lyrics and with Digital Image & Sound, I would learn how to write more contemporary songs on the computer. The digital image aspect of the program was an extension of my web design training. I got a job as a telemarketer where I could earn enough money working part-time to put myself through school.

I shared a damp, ground level apartment in the Plateau Mont-Royal of Montreal and commuted to Concordia University's downtown campus. I bussed or took the Métro, (Montreal's underground train system) to school in the mornings and the 30-40 minute walk back was my exercise.

This was the year 2002, when Concordia's Business School building was being built and the faint rumble of dynamite blasts were not uncommon during lectures. The many scattered buildings that consisted the downtown campus required students to walk past the construction zone sometimes several times a day to get from class to class. Over and above the city's regular traffic and car exhaust, factories and pesticides, this construction added a layer of haze to the vicinity and, I'm sure, a significant load of toxins to the air.

My commute, whether by foot or transit was along a very busy street with constant traffic. My apartment smelled of mould, which I thought little of at the time. It couldn't have been well insulated as on very cold days I remember trying to move my bed to keep my head away from the freezing cold wall.

Although I'm sure none of this was the direct cause of what was to come, it certainly didn't help.

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