SNOHOMISH – Janine Ridings of Snohomish burst into Calvary Chapel church in Bothell early Sunday with plenty of extra time to say hello to old friends.
As she moved through the makeshift sanctuary in the Northshore Senior Center, church members flagged her down and leaned in to whisper the latest: a prayer request, a bit of news.
Ridings smiled warmly, but held up one hand in caution, the other hand clenched around a charcoal mask.
“Are you wearing cologne?” she asked.
One misstep and Ridings, 48, could end up bedridden with a migraine for days.
Ridings asks the question to protect herself and also to raise awareness of Multiple Chemical Sensitivities Syndrome, a controversial disorder that causes severe reactions to low levels of chemicals, including toxins in fabric softeners, electronic equipment, even long-dried paint.
Since Ridings was diagnosed with MCS in the mid-1990s, she has swung from being fully disabled, unable to leave her home, to cautiously attending church and other events.
Doctors say there is no cure for MCS. Ridings is grateful she’s able to attend church at all.
Her home church, Calvary Chapel Eastside in Bellevue, has designated a “clean room” for people with chemical sensitivities. There are small windows that look out onto the sanctuary. It’s an improvement for people who otherwise wouldn’t be able to attend at all.
More than a dozen people sit in the clean room each Sunday, Ridings said.
But last week, they were out of luck. Bellevue Community College, where the church meets, is redoing its floors. The fumes are especially bad for MCS patients.
Ridings is healthy enough to – carefully – visit the church in Bothell, where she was a member about a decade ago.
“But for those who are real sensitive, it can create big problems where it’s just not worth it to go to church if you’ll be in bed with a migraine for three days,” she said.
A simple trip to the grocery store can result in a seizure.
Weddings are toxic hazards. Even checking the mailbox can be a risk if neighbors use pesticides on their lawn.
Ridings was housebound for years before she was able to manage her condition well enough to resume a relatively normal life.
Still, she hasn’t forgotten those who have become imprisoned by MCS. During those dark years inside, Ridings started an Internet prayer group she dubbed “Aroma of Christ Ministries.”
In 2004, she published “Comfort in the Storm: Devotions for the Chemically Sensitive.”
A group of MCS patients meet weekly in her home to study the Bible in a “clean” environment.
It’s there that Ridings offers encouragement to those who are struggling, often in isolation.
She’s been there.
In the early 1990s, with no warning, Ridings began to experience rashes, severe migraines and other symptoms.
Doctors couldn’t find any reason for her symptoms. Some suggested that she needed psychiatric help.
She found Dr. David Buscher at the Northwest Center for Environmental Medicine in Bellevue, who helped her learn to manage her condition.
Ridings and her husband, Dean, retrofitted their home with toxin-free furniture. Ridings changed her eating habits. She knew her life would never be what it once was, but she was able to leave her home with aid from a mask.
In 1998, Ridings boarded a plane she believes was contaminated with toxins. She was “chemically injured” then, and began suffering seizures in addition to migraines and other symptoms. It has taken nearly a decade for Ridings’ health to return to where it was before the airline incident.
Most doctors aren’t trained to treat MCS, said Dr. Philip Ranheim, who specializes in allergies and environmental illnesses in Lake Stevens.
He became aware of the condition about 20 years ago, when he began suffering from chemical sensitivity from working in a building that trapped pesticides and mold.
“I began developing what I thought were allergies, but by 1995, I was almost disabled,” Ranheim said.
Like Ridings, Ranheim identified the toxins that affected him and has avoided them ever since.
“These patients are told that it’s in their head, that they must be imagining it, because it doesn’t fit the routine diagnosis,” Ranheim said. “Yes, there are some people who imagine that chemicals are bothering them, but in my experience, most folks who say they’re having trouble actually are.”
Ranheim and other MCS patients continue to face intense skepticism.
The Centers for Disease Control states that “there is considerable doubt as to whether or not (MCS) actually exists.”
Ridings believes God has a reason for allowing the illness. She also believes that he can heal her, if he wishes.
His plan for her, for now, is to suffer from MCS, she said.
MCS patients are the “hidden people,” said Robert Case, pastor of Calvary Chapel Eastside. He’s frustrated that Ridings and other chemically sensitive church members can’t attend while the college upgrades its floors.
Case’s church has plans to build its own space. Designs include a clean room with a private entrance, a window stretching the length of the room that will look into the sanctuary, and a separate ventilation system.
“These people are prisoners in their own homes,” Case said. “There’s something special about coming to the house where people worship, and that’s something these people cannot do.”
It may be the first specially designed clean room in a church anywhere in the U.S., Case said.
“I believe we will have a vibrant ministry to the chemically sensitive,” he said. “I think this will truly be groundbreaking.”
MCS is an adverse physical reaction to common chemicals at levels so low they don’t bother the average person.
Studies suggest up to 15 percent of Americans suffer from MCS to varying degrees. Someone with mild MCS could have a reaction to dust in a closed-in attic. Someone with severe MCS could be disabled and unable to leave the home.
Some patients can trace their symptoms to a single exposure to chemicals, said Dr. Philip Ranheim, an environmental illness doctor who practices in Lake Stevens. Others realize too late that they’ve been working or living amid low-levels toxins for years.
Theories to explain MCS include immune system dysfunction and psychological instability, according to the federal Department of Labor.
Reporter Krista J. Kapralos: 425-339-3422 or kkapralos@heraldnet.com.
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