http://blog.mycology.cornell.edu/2006/11/22/i-survived-the-destroying-angel/ Jeg overlevede en "ødelæggende engel" 22. november 2006 | Kategori: Svampe , Gæster , Svampeforgiftning , Svampe Denne memoir af en nær-dødelig svampeforgiftning blev skrevet af Richard Eshelman. I. Den skæbnesvangre dag – 18. juli 2006 Tirsdag den 18. juli 2006 i Ithaca, New York. Jeg gik en tur efter arbejde aog sad og mediterede på min yndlingsplads nær et vandfald i Upper Buttermilk State Park . Inden jeg forlod mit private meditationsområde … Da jeg gik ud af det skovklædte område, jeg var i, fandt jeg nogle unge svampe. Deres hatte var som lukkede paraplyer. Jeg antog fejlagtigt at de var blækhatte ( Coprinus spp.), Selvom jeg så en Fluesvamp i nærheden – dens hat var helt åben og ikke hængende nedad. En ung ødelæggende engel En ung ødelæggende engel Jeg tog tre med mig hjem. Jeg kunne ikke finde min svampebog, havde travlt, så jeg stolede på min dom, stegte dem i olivenolie og spiste dem. Jeg burde have erkendt, at de ikke var parykblækhatte …. De smagte ærligt talt ikke så godt og jeg tænkte ved mig selv, at jeg ikke nogensinde ville spise dem igen. Jeg sagde til mine venner, at jeg havde plukket og spist nogle vilde svampe til middag. En ven spurgte mig: "Var de alle hvide?" Jeg sagde "Ja." Hun skældte mig og sagde: "Min mor fortalte mig, at jeg aldrig skulle spise en hvid svamp." På det tidspunkt blev jeg bekymret. Men sagde: "Jeg er ok, jeg ved hvad jeg gør, og jeg føler mig ikke syg." Jeg kom hjem. Jeg var sulten, så jeg spiste nogle nachos og humus og drak æblejuice før jeg gik i seng omkring kl. 23, jeg følte mig stadig fint, så jeg var ikke bekymret. Jeg vågnede lidt tidligere end normalt. Jeg kunne ikke helt se, om det stadig var nat eller lyset var ved at komme. Jeg følte mig dårligt tilpas. Det var den samme følelse, jeg havde, da jeg engang fik en madforgiftning. Før jeg havde mere tid til at vurdere min tilstand, indså jeg, at jeg skulle hurtigt på toilettet. Opkastningsrefleksen var stærk. Trykket fra de stærke sammentrækninger tvang tingene ud af begge sider af mavetarmsystemet helt ukontrollabelt. På det tidspunkt vidste jeg dybt inde i mig selv, at jeg havde lavet den store fejl: Jeg havde spist Snehvid Fluesvamp, AMANITA VIROSA , "DESTROYING ANGEL". 1 Den ødelæggende engel Richard bragte på hospitalet Den ødelæggende engel Richard bragte med på hospitalet I de næste tre timer gjorde jeg konstant ture fra min seng til badeværelset. Jeg var stadig i fornægtelse. Jeg tænkte: "Ja, jeg er bare syg." Da klokken blev 7:30 fik jeg snakket med min kæreste, meldt mig syg på arbejdet men havde stadig ikke nævnt, at jeg troede, at det var fluesvamp-forgiftning. Da nogn spurgte til mig, svarede jeg med at sige "Jeg tror, ​​at jeg ved et uheld forgiftede mig med nogle dårlige svampe i går aftes." Han sagde: "Måske skal du få tjekket det ud på det lokale lægehus". Jeg fandt min svampebog frem og læste om symptomerne på Amanita-forgiftning: opkastning og diarré eller alvorlig forstoppelse 6-8 timer efter indtagelse. Og forresten ødelægger den nu din lever og 50 til 80 procent af de mennesker, der indtager Amanita, vil dø! På det tidspunkt vidste jeg, at jeg var dybt, dybt inde i mit livs største kamp for mit liv. Jeg ringede til Poison Control Center – 800-222-1222. De foreslog, at jeg gik tilbage til det område, hvor jeg havde plukket svampene. Jeg gik tilbage til området og plukkede den en svamp, som jeg havde forladt, fordi jeg troede det var Amanita . Jeg tog også et stykke stok, som jeg havde kastet i skraldeposen natten før. På dette tidspunkt kunne jeg, så længe jeg ikke spiste eller drak noget, komme rundt uden at få diarré. Jeg havde stort set tømt alt ud fra min tarm. Inden jeg tog afsted til hospitalet tænkte jeg på tre ting:

1. Skal jeg gå ind i huset og sige farvel til mine katte? Mit svar: "Nej, din idiot, det har du ikke tid til!"
2. Hvis jeg ikke havde en sygesikring, ville jeg skulle hente nogle penge (dette er USA!). Heldigvis behøvede jeg ikke at overveje dette spørgsmål, da jeg havde forsikring og følte mig meget heldig. Men hvad med nogen der ikke har en sygeforsikring? Ville de nægte deres symptomer og bare antage at det nok bare var en det madforgiftning? Hvad ville have været slutresultatet? De vil nok bare begynde at føle sig bedre og derefter dø af leversvigt. Amanita vil narre dig på den måde.
3. Min sidste tanke var "Tag et sidste kig rundt om dig, for du vil aldrig vende tilbage hertil igen." Jeg gjorde det og gik uden at fortælle nogen, hvor jeg skulle hen.

II. Emergency Room Onsdag den 19. juli Jeg ankom til Cayuga Medical Center kl. 9:15. Jeg gik lige op til receptionisten. Hun talte i telefon med nogen. Hun var selvfølgelig i en diskussion med nogen om et eller andet problem, og det var ikke snart, at hun ville være færdig med telefonsamtalen. Jeg ventede tålmodigt idet jeg tænke: "Jeg ønsker ikke at lave en scene." Ikke desto mindre forstod jeg ikke hvorfor hun ikke kunne sætte personen i venteposition mens hun tog sig af en nyankommen. Endelig omkring kl 9:30 slap hun telefonen og spurgte "Hvad kan jeg gøre for dig?" Jeg forklarede hende, at jeg følte, at jeg ved et uheld havde forgiftet mig med nogle giftige svampe. Hun spurgte, om jeg var registreret på hospitalet. Jeg sagde "ja." Hun tjekkede mit navn og fandt at jeg faktisk var registreret, og at mine forsikringsoplysninger var aktuelle. Hun bad mig om at blive siddende og informerede mig om, at nogen snart ville være hos mig. Jeg forventede at nogen komme for at se mig i løbet af et øjeblik, da jeg havde informeret dem om, at jeg mistænkte at jeg havde en svampeforgiftning. I stedet gik tiden. Jeg fortsatte med at tænke, bare forbliv rolig og samlet. Endelig kom der nogen efter at jeg have ventet yderligere 20 minutter. De fleste mennesker, der ved, at de er døende, begynder at tænke på, hvad de ikke fik gjort eller hvad de burde have gjort. I dette tilfælde var alt, hvad jeg kunne gøre, at overvåge tiden som en høg. Min bekymring var, at jeg havde brug for hjælp NU! Straks! Men jeg vidste også, at jeg var nødt til at forblive rolig for ikke at skabe en paniksituation. Jeg kan ikke huske meget andet end at de foretog nogle indledende undersøgelser og fik den information, de havde brug for vedrørende forgiftningen, og sørgede for at få at vide, at jeg var den eneste involverede. Nogen tog svampen med til Cornell universitet til identifikation. De startede en intravenøs behandling for at genopbygge min væskebalance. Mens jeg ventede tog jeg mig endelig tid til at skrive nogle telefonnumre ned på folk, som de kunne ringe til, hvis jeg ikke kunne gøre det. Jeg var også nogle ture på toilettet. Emergency room personalet kom tilbage og sagde, at en Cornell Mycolog (Kathie Hodge) havde identificeret svampen. Det var Amanita virosa svampeforgiftning. Det første, de gjorde, var, at de fik mig til at drikke en kulsort drink. Det er så sort som du kan forestille dig. Dette var den sorteste sorte jeg nogensinde havde set! Det var virkelig svært at komme forbi tanken og bare drikke det. Det havde en kalkagtig smag. Ca. en halv time senere informerede de mig om, at de havde ringet til Bang's Ambulance og at de ventede på at transportere mig til Strong Memorial Hospital i Rochester, New York. Det tog imidlertid mindst en halv time, før vi forlod stedet, fordi jeg først skulle på toilettet på grund af opkastningsrefleksen. Min krop reagerede stadig på noget, der blev lagt ned i maven, og jeg afviste kuldrikken. Det er nok en god ting, at jeg lod ambulancepersonalet vente og gik på toilettet, fordi jeg ellers ville have kastet op i ambulancen hele vejen til Rochester. Før jeg tog afsted, lavede jeg også nogle få telefonopkald; til arbejdel og fortalte dem, hvad der foregik, og at jeg sandsynligvis ikke ville være tilgængelig for arbejdet i weekenden, til min kammerat og til min kæreste Julie. Så blev jeg lastet på ambulancen og afsted til Rochester. På turen fra Ithaca til Rochester blev jeg i ambulancen trøstet hele vejen. Det, jeg husker mest, var at se uret over bagdørene. Vi forlod Ithaca omkring 3:00 om eftermiddagen og ankom tili Rochester omkring kl. 17:37. Jeg blev sendt til det sted, hvor de havde den eneste levertransplantationsenhed i upstate New York. Behandlingen er ofte levertransplantation. Med tidlig diagnose forsøger man først med massive doser penicillin for at stimulere leverens forsvar. Dette var den behandling, jeg ville modtage med mulighed for at transplantere, hvis min lever svigtede. III. På centralsygehuset Ved vores ankomst til Emergency Room var jeg overrasket over, at de var klar til at acceptere mig uden papirarbejde. Alle oplysninger om mig var allerede blevet sendt til dem. Jeg ringede til min kæreste Julie fra min celle for at lade hende vide, hvad der var sket. Hun ville gerne komme, men jeg insisterede på, at hun ventede til næste dag. Hun insisterede på at lade min familie vide om indlæggelsen. Jeg fik taget en blodprøve hver 2. time for at overvåge ophopningen af ​​toksiner i min lever og nyrer. De forbandt mig til et transfusionsstativ og monitorer. De forberedte sig på at køre mig gennem alle de test, de havde brug for, for at forberede mig på en transplantation, hvis min lever svigtede. De gav mig en stor dosis penicillin plus væsker for at rehydrere mig. At være syg som en hund med konstant opkastning og diarré er ikke sjovt! Jeg havde en ble på. Jeg følte mig hjælpeløs. Jeg følte mig ydmyg. Jeg fik en seng i transplantationsenheden. Fik taget røntgenbilleder. Kom tilbage til værelset. Drak noget væske for at få taget en CAT scanning. Det var en liter lyserød væske. Jeg drak det i små slurke, og selvom de havde givet mig noget til at stope opkastningsrefleksen, fungerede det bare ikke. Kort efter at jeg fik det hele nede, kom det lige tilbage igen. De gav mig endnu en liter. Igen begyndte jeg langsomt at nippe til glasset hver 15-20 minutter. Til sidst fik jeg næsten det hele ned og følte, at jeg ikke kunne drikke et glas mere uden at kaste op igen. De rullede mig ned til CAT scanner-maskinen og overførte mig til briksen, som kan sende folk ind i det store instrument. Da de begyndte at rulle mig ind, råbte jeg "Tilbage igen, træk mig ud! Jeg skal til at kaste op igen! " De trak mig ud af cylinderen og stak mig en balje lige i tide. Jeg er glad for, at jeg ikke ødelagde deres store instrument ved at kaste op inde i det. Efter CAT scanning blev jeg taget tilbage til mit værelse i transplantationsenheden. Der var en konstant en summende lyd, som jeg ikke kunne finde kilden til, og konstante meddelelser over PA systemet. Det var virkelig svært at sove på grund af støj og blive vækket hele tiden for at få taget en blodprøve. (De tog blod hver 4. time for at overvåge min lever og nyrer). Det er ikke et sted, der fremmer god søvn. Jeg kunne bare ikke få en anstændig nats søvn. Min kæreste Julie og min housemate Mark besøgte mig den næste dag. Julie kontaktet min familie. Alle bad for mig. Min søster havde endda en fået en bud fuld af børn til at bede for mig på vej til en ungdomskonference i Colorado. Alle var bekymrede for mig. Fokuset var på mig. Jeg følte mig flov. Jeg havde lavet en kritisk fejl i min bedømmelse af en parykhat, og alle vidste det. Eileen, min ven, der først havde advaret mig, så e-mailen og diskuterede det med sine venner. En af dem havde lige læst om en alternativ behandling. Hun gik hjem til frokost og bragte den til Eileen, som faxede den til lægerne i Rochester. Lægerne siger, at de aldrig har modtaget det. Behandlingen er gamma-liponsyre. Det har også vist sig at være nyttigt til behandling af leverproblemer såsom hepatitis B og C, autoimmun hepatitis, primær biliær cirrose og primær sklerotiserende cholagitis. Artiklen er fra Dr Whitakers sundhedsnyhedsbrev Vol. 16, No.7, p6. Lige nu kom lægerne og stillede mig spørgsmål for at vurdere min mentale tilstand. Hvis min lever svigtede, ville jeg ikke være klar. Uden søvn fandt jeg det svært at huske, hvilken dag det var, da alt syntes at blande sig sammen ind i en lang hændelse. Jeg arbejder som accelerator-operatør inden for højenergi-fysik og er en ivrig amatørdanser, en certificeret massageterapeut og Hanna Somatic Educator. Da de spurgte mig om det, og jeg fortalte dem det, troede de, jeg havde mistet min forstand. De måtte spørge Julie og Mark, om jeg fortalte dem sandheden. Hvor mange mennesker kender du, der arbejder som acceleratoroperatør? På et tidspunkt kom en læge ind og spurgte mig: "Hvad er Pi?" Jeg var ikke helt sikker på, hvordan jeg skulle svare, da jeg ikke vidste, om han spurgte om Pi eller pie. Mit spørgsmål til ham var "Hvilken pi / pie, den matematiske betegnelse eller den tærte, man spiser?" Hans svar, "Pi den matematiske term." Jeg fortsatte med at fortælle ham om dets forhold til en cirkel og dets oprindelse. Jeg snublede lidt og tænkte måske, at jeg virkelig var ved at tabe min forstand. Torsdag, Julie var med mig det meste af dagen. Jeg blev taget til testning af mit hjertekarsystem. Stresstesten. De var nødt til at gøre det kemisk, da jeg ikke kunne gøre det fysisk på løbebåndet. Torsdag aften tog de mig ind på intensivafdelingen. Før det var jeg nødt til at underskrive papirer, der gav Julie fuldmagt osv. Jeg blev informeret om, at de var klar til at give mig en levertransplantation, hvis jeg havde brug for det. Jeg husker at jeg tog fat i korset på min nakkekæde og bad tydeligt for mig selv: "Kære Gud, lad mig beholde min lever. Jeg vil ikke leve med en andens lever resten af ​​mit liv og skal klare de medicinske udgifter for at forhindre min krop i at afvise det. " Jeg lavede en visualiseringsøvelse. Jeg forestillede mig min lever. Jeg så farven sort (den skulle have været grøn). Mine nyrer, havblå. Jeg smilede til dem begge. (For mere info om visualisering anbefaler jeg, at du læser " Awaken the Healing Light of the Tao " af Mantak og Maneewan Chia.) På en eller anden måde, midt om natten, begyndte minde levertal af falde. Jeg var ikke ude for risiko endnu, men det så ud som om jeg skulle komme sig uden levertransplantation. Jeg blev rullet tilbage til mit værelse i leverenransplantationsenheden fredag ​​formiddag. Medlemmer af min familie besøgte mig den dag: Jim, min ældste bror, Tim og hans kone Kim, og min lillesøster Betty Sue. De bragte blomster og balloner, der ønskede mig alt godt på min kommende fødselsdag. Vi holdt hinanden i hænderne og min svigerinde, Kim, bad for mit opsving. Hele tiden havde jeg håbet på at være ude af hospitalet om fredagen for at kunne gå på arbejde på mit weekendskift. Hele tiden sagde lægerne til mig, at jeg skulle være på hospitalet et stykke tid. Det var klart, at jeg ikke kom ud fredag. Selvom mine levertal var på vej ned, var nyretallene stadig ikke vendt. Jeg skulle være på sygehuset i en uge for at sikre, at jeg ikke fik brug for nyredialyse. Om fredagen fjernede de røret, der fra min næse gik ned til maven. Det havde været ret irriterende, da det gav mig hikke – periodisk igen og igen. Selv efter at røret blev fjernet kom jeg til at hikke endnu et par timer. Om søndagen var alle rørene i mig blevet fjernet. Julie var der også for mig. Hun fik mig ud af sengen den aften, og vi tog en kort gåtur på gangen. Vi lavede en lille salsa sammen. Jeg dansede igen! Sygeplejerskerne applauderede. Jeg fandt det stadig svært at sove. I det mindste tog de kun blod hver fjerde time. Den nat var en anden patient i mit værelse – for at modtage en transplantation. Han råbte hele tiden på hjælp fra sygeplejerskerne. Søndag aften / mandag morgen faldt jeg endelig i en dyb drømmesøvn. Jeg så en hvid kirke glitrende i hvidt lys. En strømforsyning, der lyste rødt, holdt lyset tændt. Jeg kørte i en sort limosine og gnister fløj bagud fra bilen, da vi kørte over netledningen. Den næste ting, jeg vidste, var at jed stod ved siden af ​​min bedstefars grav. Jeg undrede mig over, hvorfor jeg var der, da jeg blev vækket af sygeplejersken fordi jeg skulle have taget endnu en blodprøve. Når folk spørger mig om, hvorvidt jeg havde nogen nærdødsoplevelser, henviser jeg som regel til min drøm. Jeg er her ved Guds nåde! Jeg føler mig så uheldig og alligevel heldig. Jeg fandt ud af, at af tre personer, der i 2006 blev indlagt på dette hospital med fluesvamp-forgiftning var jeg den eneste, der har overlevet; 66% døde altså. Hvorfor levede jeg, og hvorfor overlevede de andre to ikke? Var det mængden af ​​toksin? Var det, fordi jeg vidste, hvad der var sket med mig og søgte hjælp hurtigt? Var det på grund af min meditation / visualisering og min praktiske erfaring med somatisk selvpleje/selvhjælp? Var det min familie og min tros bønner? Var det lægernes pleje? En af dem sagde, at det var et mirakel! Jeg ved det ikke. Måske var det en kombination af alting. Mandag den 24. juli var min fødselsdag. Jeg kunne ikke have modtaget en bedre gave end livets gave. I hele mit liv har jeg været traumatiseret. Jeg blev født som blå baby, jeg faldt fra en silo i en alder af 12 år osv. Jeg kunne fortsætte, men det vigtige er, jeg er en overlevende. Jeg elsker katte – måske har jeg ni liv! Hvordan kom jeg ud i et sådant rod? I tilbageblik betragtede jeg muligheden for, at jeg ubevidst havde forgiftet mig selv. Men i virkeligheden var fejlen, som jeg gjorde, at jeg bare ikke tog mig tid til at identificere de svampe, som jeg havde plukket, før jeg spiste dem .

• Sandheden
• De fleste ofre for livstruende svampeforgiftning i Nordamerika er mennesker fra Sydøstasien; Laos, Cambodja, Thailand, Vietnam. De tror at fluesvampene er den spiselige posesvamp "Paddy-Straw" ( Volvariella volvacea ). De to er ens på flere måder; hattens farve, størrelse og den hvide "posee" rundt om stokken, men forskelligt på andre måder (for eksempel har Paddy-Straw et lyserdt sporeaftryk, fluesvamp har et et hvidt sporeaftryk, og fluesvampe har et lamelsvøb, der hos de giftige arter danner en ring hvis denne ikke er faldet af). Paddy Straw svampen forekommer i tropiske og tempererede områder verden over, og er især almindelig i Sydøstasien; Men fluesvampene er måske ikke så almindelige i det sydøstlige Asien, så folk fra den del af verden er uvidende om den dødelige ”look-alike.”
• Millioner af nordamerikanere vælger og spiser vilde svampe hvert år, uden så meget som at få en mavepine.
• Er de "eksperter?" Ja! I det mindste er de eksperter på de spiselige vilde svampe, de kender. Enten fortalte deres forældre eller bedsteforældre dem, hvordan de kunne identificere morkler eller støvbolde osv. , eller de har en god feltguide og de læser den … eller begge dele.
• Ingen med en rimelig forståelse for vigtigheden af ​​korrekt identifikation af svampe – med en alvorlig bevidsthed om, at nogle arter er giftige – falder som offer for Snehvid fluesvamp, som på engelsk kaldes ødelæggelsesenglen. De folk, der spiser den må være folk, der ikke bruger feltguider: de vælger bare de fordømte ting og spiser dem. Ingen tur til biblioteket. Ingen læsning. Ingen udskrifter ra internettet. Ingen anelse om, hvad et "labelsvøb" er eller hvad "lameltilhæftning" betyder.
• Så … Er det virkelig farligt at spise vilde svampe?
• Hvor farligt er det at køre bil? Hvis du er fuld eller uforsigtig, er det meget farligt; Hvis du er fornuftig og opmærksom, er det rimeligt sikkert.
• Overvej dette: Vil du vælge og spise et ukendt bær simpelthen fordi det "så godt ud?" Selvfølgelig ikke. At finde, identificere, forberede og spise vilde svampe kan være et dejligt tidsfordriv – hvis det er gjort intelligent.
• Ellers er det en forfærdelig "ulykke", der venter på at ske.
• Uddragt med tilladelse fra David Fischer's
• American Mushrooms.

Epilog Det var først den anden uge efter at have forladt hospitalet,at je følte mig komfortabel til at spise og ikke være tæt på et toilet. Jeg var tilbage på arbejde inden for to uger efter at være blevet udskrevet fra hospitalet. En måned senere var jeg i ret høj grad tilbage på fuld styrke. Mine levertal normaliserede sig tidligt, stort set da jeg havde forladt hospitalet. Detskulle vare endnu halvanden måned før mine nyretal normaliseredes. Leveren er et bemærkelsesværdigt organ. Det er det eneste organ, der kan regenerere sig selv. Nyrerne er en anden historie. Der er sandsynligvis nogle permanente skader der, men ikke tilstrækkelige til at kræve langvarig pleje. Folk donerer ofte en nyre og lever godt med kun en nyre. Jeg havde nogle underlige tanker under min kommen på fode igen derhjemme. Jeg antager, at de kun var virkninger af toksinerne i min krop. Generelt har jeg blevet helt rask igen og forventer ingen langsigtede virkninger. Jeg er taknemmelig for at være i live og føler mig meget heldig. Jeg er også taknemmelig for min træning i Hanna Somatic Education. Det følte at det var dejligt at komme hjem og ind i rutinen med at udøve mine somatiske øvelser, udforske og kunne være til stede i min krop igen. Det var også ligesom at komme hjem til min krop. Jeg opfordrer alle til at få en kopi af Thomas Hanna's bog: " Somatics: Reawakening Mind Mind Control of Movement, Flexibility and Health " eller at besøge Hanna Somatics hjemmeside . Richard Eshelman kan kontaktes via telefon på 607-280-6788, eller via e-mail på re16@cornell.edu eller upstatehse@aol.com .En særlig tak til Kathie Hodge for at opmuntre mig til at skrive dette.

1. Redaktørens bemærkning: Amanita virosa og Amanita bisporigera behandles som to separate arter af de fleste mykologer, men deres udseende og virkninger er meget ens, og navnene bliver nogle gange byttet om. Redaktøren følger det autoritative eksempel på Rod Tulloss og Zhu-liang Yang til behandling af den nordøstlige nordamerikanske "ødelæggende engel" som Amanita bisporigera , mens Amanita virosa er en strengt europæisk art. Der er en vis tilfredsstillelse i dette, da A. bisporigera blev beskrevet fra Ithaca-området for 100 år siden af ​​min forgænger ved Cornell, George F. Atkinson.
2. Redaktørens bemærkning: For mere om Amanita-toksicitet se Destroying Angels-.
3. Redaktørens bemærkning: Alfa-lipolsyre , også kendt som thioctic acid, blev anbefalet til behandling af Amanita- forgiftning i 1950'erne og 1960'erne, men efterfølgende undersøgelser fandt ikke en terapeutisk virkning, ifølge
   D.R. Benjamin (1995, Mushrooms: Poisons and Panaceas. W.H. Freeman).

Billeder: KT Hodge (ung Amanita ) og KE Loeffler (den modne Amanita, som Richard bragte med ham til hospitalet for identifikation). I survived the “Destroying Angel” November 22, 2006 | category: fungi, Guests, mushroom poisoning, mushroomsPrint Friendly
This memoir of a near-fatal mushroom poisoning was written by our most fortunate guest, Richard Eshelman. Happy Thanksgiving, all.

I. That Fateful day – July 18th, 2006

Tuesday, July 18th, 2006. It was a balmy day in Ithaca, New York. I went for a walk after work to sit and meditate at my favorite spot near a waterfall in UpperButtermilk State Park. It’s really nice to have such a huge backyard cared for by the public like Upper Buttermilk. I feel privileged.
Before I left my private meditation area I did a standing STARS (Somatics Transformation and Restorative Systems) exercise called “Aligning the Three Tan Tiens.” Something inside me made me feel invincible. You know that feeling you have when you are young and feel invincible? Well, as I walked out of the wooded area I was in, I found some young mushrooms. Their caps were hanging down like closed umbrellas. I mistook them for inky caps (Coprinus spp.) even though I spotted an Amanita nearby–its cap was fully open, and not hanging down. Thinking back, I should have been more suspicious as mushrooms do grow in colonies.
A young destroying angelI took three home with me. I couldn’t find my Mushroom book, was in a hurry, so I trusted my judgment, fried them up in olive oil, and ate them as a side dish. I should have recognized then that they weren’t inky caps, because inky caps exude a black substance when you fry them.
They honestly did not taste that good, rather bland in my opinion. I thought to myself, “Gee, I don’t think I’ll ever pick and eat these again.” (Little did I know the truth of my thought at the time).
I went dancing afterward, and bragged to my friends that I had picked and eaten some wild mushrooms for dinner. A friend asked me “Were they all white?”

I said “Yes.”

She scolded me, saying, “My mother told me never to eat an all white mushroom.”

At that point, I got concerned. I covered it up by saying, “I’m OK, I know what I’m doing and I don’t feel sick.”
I got home. I was hungry, so I ate some nachos and humus and drank some apple juice before going to bed around 11 p.m. I still felt fine, so I wasn’t worried.
The crack of dawn that time of year is early, sometime between 4:30 and 5:00. It’s a really neat time if you’ve never experienced it–the silence is almost unbearable. To most busy people it is unbearable. There is nothing to drown out the chatter in the head. City folks usually find it uncomfortable in contrast to the noise of the city. I’ve become accustomed to awakening with the light. This morning I woke a little earlier than usual. I couldn’t quite tell whether it was still night or just breaking into the day.
I felt queasy. It was the same feeling I had when I had food poisoning. Before I had any more time to assess my state, I realized I needed to get to the bathroom. I barely made it to the royal throne when I started heaving my guts out. The vomiting reflex was strong. The pressure of the strong contractions forced stuff out both ends of the GI tract, uncontrollably. I had a severe case of vomiting and diarrhea. At that point, deep down I knew I had made the big mistake: I HAD EATEN AMANITA VIROSA, AKA, “THE DESTROYING ANGEL”. 1
The destroying angel Richard brought to the hospitalFor the next three hours, I was making trips constantly from my bed to the bathroom. I was still in denial. My housemate asked me the first time I was up “Are you OK?” I said “Yes, I was just sick.” By the time 7:30 had rolled around, I had talked to my girlfriend, called in sick to work and still had not mentioned that I thought it was Amanitapoisoning. Finally, my housemate again asked me what was going on. I responded saying “I think I accidentally poisoned myself with some bad mushrooms last night.”
He said “Maybe you should go get checked out at the local “Convenient Care Center.”

I silently thought to myself, “Yeah, If I go there, I’ll be sitting and waiting and by the time someones sees me, I’ll be dead.”
I found my mushroom book and looked up the symptoms for Amanita poisoning: vomiting and diarrhea or severe constipation 6-8 hrs after consumption.2 Oh, and by the way, it’s now destroying your liver and 50 to 80 percent of the people who ingest Amanita DO NOT SURVIVE! At that point, I knew I was in deep, deep doo doo and in for the biggest fight of my life, for my life.
I called the Poison Control Center – 800-222-1222.
They suggested I go back to the area where I had picked the mushrooms and get one to take with me for identification, then get myself to the local emergency room. I went back to the area and picked the one mushroom I had left because I thought it was Amanita. I also took a piece of stem I had thrown into the garbage the night before.
At this point, as long as I didn’t eat or drink anything I could get around. I had pretty much eliminated everything from my GI tract.
I got in my car to drive myself to the emergency room. Three thoughts went through my head as I prepared to leave:

1. Should I go back into the house and say goodbye to my cats? My response: “No you idiot, you don’t have time for that!”
2. If I didn’t have health insurance, would I go to the emergency room knowing I was just about to wipe out my cash reserve? Luckily I didn’t have to ponder that question as I had insurance and felt very fortunate. But what about someone who didn’t? Would they deny their symptoms and just consider it food poisoning? What would have been the end result? They probably would just start to feel better and then keel over from liver failure. Amanita will fool you that way.
3. My last thought was “Take one last look around you, because you may never be back here again.” I did, and left without telling anyone where I was going.

II. The Emergency Room

Wednesday, July 19th. I arrived at the ER of Cayuga Medical Center about 9:15 a.m. I went in and walked straight up to the receptionist. She was on the phone with someone. She obviously was in a discussion with someone about some problem and it wasn’t going to be anytime soon that she could get off the phone. I waited patiently thinking, “I don’t want to make a scene.” Nevertheless, I didn’t understand why she couldn’t put the person on hold while she addressed a new emergency room client.Finally, around 9:30, she got off the phone and asked “What can I do for you?” I explained to her that I felt I had accidentally poisoned myself with some poisonous mushrooms. She asked whether my records were at the hospital. I said “yes.” She checked my name and found I indeed was registered and my insurance information was current. She asked me to be seated and informed me that someone would be with me shortly.
I expected that someone would be out to see me within a minute or so since I had informed them that I suspected mushroom poisoning. Instead, time dragged on. I kept thinking, just stay calm and collected. Finally, after waiting another 20 minutes, someone came to get me.
It’s amazing to me. Most people when they know they are dying think of what they didn’t do or what they should have done. In this case, all I could do was watch and monitor time like a hawk. My concern was I needed help NOW! ASAP! But, I also knew I needed to stay calm so as not to create a panic situation.
I don’t remember much once I was admitted other than them taking vital signs and getting the info they needed regarding the poisoning and making sure that I was the only one involved. They kept me comfortable while someone took the mushroom to Cornell for identification. They started an IV to replenish my fluids.
While waiting, I finally took the time to write down some phone numbers for people to call in case I didn’t make it. I also made a few more trips to the restroom.
The Emergency room staff came back saying a Cornell Mycologist (Kathie Hodge) had identified it. It was definitely Amanita virosa mushroom poisoning.1
The first thing they did was make me drink a milk shake size container of charcoal. Have you ever seen a charcoal drink? It is as black as you can imagine. I often practice the Bates “palming” eye improvement exercise. During this exercise you rub your palms together, then place them over your eyes, and imagine the blackest black you can imagine. This was the blackest black I had ever seen! It was really hard to get past the thought and just drink it. It had a chalky flavor.
About a half hour later. The ER staff informed me they had called Bang’s Ambulance and they were present, waiting to transport me to Strong Memorial Hospital in Rochester, New York.
Needless to say, the charcoal drink did not stay down long. It would be at least another half hour before we left because I had to first go to the restroom to honor the vomiting reflex. My body was still reacting to anything put into my stomach and was rejecting the charcoal drink. It’s probably a good thing I made the ambulance crew wait and went to the bathroom when I did or I would have been upchucking in the ambulance all the way to Rochester.
Before leaving, I also made a few phone calls; to work, letting them know what was going on and that I probably wasn’t going to be available to work the weekend, to my housemate, and to my girlfriend Julie. Then I was strapped in a gurney, loaded in the ambulance and on my to Rochester.
The trip to Rochester from Ithaca was uneventful. The attending ambulance technician comforted me all the way. What I do remember the most was watching the clock above the rear doors. We left Ithaca around 3:00 p.m. in the afternoon and arrived at Strong Memorial in Rochester around 5:37 p.m.
I was being sent to Strong Memorial because they had the only liver transplant unit in upstate New York. The treatment of choice is often liver transplantation. With early diagnosis, another experimental treatment includes massive doses of penicillin to stimulate the liver’s defenses. This was the treatment I would receive with the option to transplant if my liver failed.

III. Strong Memorial Hospital

Upon our arrival at the Emergency Room, I was surprised to find they were ready to accept me without any paperwork. All the information about me had already been transmitted to them and I was admitted directly to the Emergency Room.The ER room there is impressive. It has a semicircular console area facing individual double occupancy booths. I was in the first one upon entering the ER room. I called Julie on my cell to let her know what had happened. She wanted to come up then, but, I insisted she wait till the next day. She insisted on letting my family know.
I was having blood drawn every 2 hours to monitor the buildup of toxins in my liver and kidneys. They hooked me up to a transfusion stand and monitors. They were preparing to run me through all the tests they needed in order to prepare me for a transplant in case my liver failed. They were giving me huge dose of penicillin plus fluids to rehydrate me.
Being sick as a dog with constant vomiting and diarrhea is no fun! I had a diaper on. I felt helpless. I felt humbled.
I was given a bed in the transplant unit. Taken for x-rays. Back to the room. Given a drink in order to do a CAT scan. It was a liter of pink liquid. I drank it in small amounts and even though they had given me something to shut down the vomiting, it just wasn’t working. Shortly after getting it all down, it came right back up. They gave me another liter. Again, I slowly started sipping an 8 oz glass every 15-20 minutes. Eventually, I almost got it all down and felt I could not drink another glass without vomiting again. They wheeled me down to the CAT scan machine and transferred me onto the bed that slides into the large instrument. As they started to roll me in, I yelled “Back me out, back me out! I’m going to throw up again!”
They pulled me out of the cylinder and got me a bedpan just in time. I’m glad I didn’t ruin their large instrument puking inside it.
After the CAT scan, I was taken back to my room in the transplant unit. There was a constant droning sound that I couldn’t figure out and constant announcements over the PA system. It was really difficult sleeping with the noise and being awakened all the time for blood work. (They were drawing blood every 4 hours to monitor my liver and kidneys). It’s not a place conducive to good sleep. I just couldn’t get a decent nights sleep.
My girlfriend Julie and my housemate Mark visited the next day. Julie had sent out an email to the dance community informing them of my situation, and had let my family know of my happenstance. Everyone was praying for me. My sister even had a bus load of kids praying for me while on their way to a youth conference in Colorado. All were worried about me. The focus was on me. I felt embarrassed. I had made a critical error in judgment and everyone knew about it.
Eileen, my friend who had first alerted me to my possible dilemma, saw the email and discussed it with her friends. One of them had just read about an alternative treatment. She went home at lunch and brought it to Eileen, who faxed it to the Doctors in Rochester. The doctors say they never received it.
The treatment uses Lipoic Acid.3 It has also been shown to be useful in the treatment of liver problems such as hepatitis B and C, autoimmune hepatitis, primary biliary cirrhosis, and primary sclerosing cholagitis. The article is from Dr Whitaker’s health newsletter Vol.16, No.7, p6.
By now the doctors were coming around asking me questions in order to assess my mental capacity. If my liver went into failure, I would not be lucid. Without sleep, I found it hard to remember what day it was as everything seemed to blend into one long event.
I work as an accelerator operator in high energy physics and am an avid amateur dancer, a certified massage therapist and Hanna Somatic Educator. When they asked me about this and I told them, they thought I had lost my sanity. They had to ask Julie and Mark if I was telling them the truth. How many people do you know that earn their living as an accelerator operator?
At one point a doctor came in and asked me “What is Pi?” I wasn’t quite sure how to respond as I didn’t know if he was asking about Pi, or pie. My question to him was “Which pi/pie, pi the mathematical term or pie the thing you eat?”
His response, “Pi the mathematical term.” I proceeded to tell him about its relationship to a circle and its origins. I stumbled a little and thought maybe I really was losing my sanity.
Thursday, Julie was with me most of the day. I was taken for tests of my cardiovascular system. The stress test. They had to do it chemically as I was unable to do it physically on the treadmill. A friend from my mediation group visited, who ironically worked with the wife of the transplant surgeon, Dr. Peter Abt.
Thursday evening they took me into intensive care. Before wheeling me into intensive care, Dr Abt visited me. I had to sign papers giving Julie power of attorney etc. He informed me they were ready to give me a transplant if I needed it. I remember grabbing the cross on my neck chain and praying silently to myself, “Dear Lord, let me keep my liver. I do not want to live with someone else’s liver the rest of my life and have to deal with the medical expenses to keep my body from rejecting it.”
I had put my fate in the hands of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The 23rd psalm was running through my mind as well. The Sunday morning meditation group I attend had just recited it the previous Sunday.
The thought that these guys might be trying to get my liver for someone else did cross my mind. I let it go. Instead, I did a visualization exercise. I imagined my liver. I saw the color black (it should have been green). My kidneys, ocean blue. I smiled to both of them. (For more info on visualization, I recommend you read “Awaken the Healing Light of the Tao” by Mantak and Maneewan Chia.)
Somehow, in the middle of the night my liver numbers peaked and started coming down. I wasn’t out of the woods yet, but it looked like I was going to recover without a liver transplant. I was wheeled back to my room in the liver transplant unit Friday morning.
Members of my family visited that day: Jim, my oldest brother, Tim and his wife Kim, and my baby sister Betty Sue. They brought flowers and balloons wishing me well and a happy birthday balloon as my birthday was coming up. We all held hands and my sister in law, Kim, prayed for my recovery. I was also receiving prayers and get well wishes from the dance community.
All along, I had hoped to be out of the hospital by Friday to work my weekend shift. All along, the doctors told me I was going to be there for a while. It was clear I wasn’t getting out Friday.
My liver and kidneys had taken a big insult, as had my gastrointestinal tract. Although my liver numbers were coming down, the kidney numbers still hadn’t peaked. I would be in the hospital another week to make sure I would not need kidney dialysis.
They took the tube out of my nose going to my stomach on Friday. It had been quite annoying as it gave me the hiccups. I could almost predict when the next one would come along. It was that periodic. Even after removing the tube, the hiccups lingered for another couple hours.
By Sunday, all the tubes in me had been removed. Julie was there for me as well. She got me out of bed that evening and we took a short walk around the nurses’ station. We did a little salsa together. I was dancing again! The nurses applauded.
I still found it hard to sleep. Now, at least, they were only drawing blood every 4 hours. That night another patient was in my room who was there to receive a transplant. He was constantly yelling out for help from the nurses.
Sunday night/Monday morning I finally fell into a deep dream sleep. I saw a white church glistening in white light. A power cord glowing red was feeding power to keep it lit up. I was riding in a black limo and sparks flew from behind the car as we drove over the power cord. The next thing I knew, I was next to my grandfather’s grave. I was wondering why I was there when I was awakened by the nurse for another blood sample.
When people ask me whether I had any near-death experiences, I usually relay my dream to them. I am here by the grace of God! I feel so lucky and yet fortunate. I found out that of three people admitted in 2006 to Strong Memorial with Amanita poisoning, I am the only one to have survived; 66% died.
Why did I live and the rest not live?

Was it the amount of toxin?

Was it that I knew what had happened to me and sought care and help quickly?

Was it my meditation/visualization and somatic self care/self help practice?

Was it the prayers of my friends and family and my faith?

Was it the doctors’ care? One of them said it was a miracle!
Simply said, I don’t know that it was any individual thing, but a combination of everything.
Monday, July 24th was my birthday. I could not have received a better gift than the gift of life. Throughout my life, I have been traumatized. I was born a blue baby, fell out of a silo at the age of 12, etc. I could go on, but the important thing is, I am a survivor. I love cats–maybe I have nine lives!
How did I get in such a mess? In retrospect, I considered the possibility that I had subconsciously poisoned myself. But in reality, the mistake I made was justnot taking the time to positively identify the mushrooms I had picked before ingesting them.

• The Truth

• Most victims of life-threatening mushroom poisoning in North America are people from Southeast Asia; Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, Viet Nam. They apparently mistake Amanita for edible “Paddy-Straw” (Volvariella volvacea) mushrooms. The two are similar in several ways; cap color, size, and the white “cup” around the base of the stalk, but different in others (for example, the Paddy-Straw has a pink spore print, the Amanita*, a white spore print; and the Amanita* has a partial veil). The Paddy Straw mushroom occurs in tropical and temperate areas worldwide, and is especially common in Southeast Asia; the Amanita, alas, does not occur in Southeast Asia, so folks from that part of the world are unaware of the lethal “look-alike.”
• Millions of North Americans pick and eat wild mushrooms every year, without as much as a belly ache.
• Are they “experts?” Yes! At least, they are experts on the edible wild mushrooms they know. Either their parents or grandparents taught them how to identify morels, or puffballs, or meadow mushrooms, or they have a good field guide and they read it… or both.
• No one with a reasonable understanding of the importance of properly identifying mushrooms – with a serious awareness that some species are fatally toxic – falls victim to the Destroying Angel*. The folks who eat Destroying Angel* do not use field guides: they just pick the damned things and eat them. No trip to the library. No reading. No spore prints. No idea what a “partial veil” is or what “gill attachment” means.
• So… Is it really dangerous to eat wild mushrooms?
• How dangerous is it to drive a car? If you’re drunk or careless, it is VERY dangerous; if you’re sensible and pay attention, it is reasonably safe.
• Consider this: Would you pick and eat an unfamiliar berry simply because it “looked good?” Of course not. Finding, identifying, preparing, and eating wild mushrooms can be a delightful pastime–IF it is done intelligently.
• Otherwise, it is a terrible “accident” waiting to happen.
• * I took the liberty of changing the name from deathcap to destroying angel or Amanita in the text above. It’s worth noting that Amanita phalloidesmost closely resembles the paddy-straw mushroom; A. virosa less so.
• Excerpted with permission from David Fischer’s American Mushrooms.

Epilogue

It was another week after leaving of the hospital before I felt comfortable eating and not being close to a bathroom. I was back to work within two weeks of being released from the hospital. A month later, I was pretty much back to full strength. My liver numbers normalized early, pretty much by the time I had left the hospital. It would be another month and a half before my kidney numbers normalized.The liver is a remarkable organ. It is the only organ that can regenerate itself. The kidneys are a different story. There is probably some permanent damage there but not sufficient to require any long term care. People often donate and live with just one kidney.
I did have some strange thoughts during my recovery at home. I’m assuming they were just lingering effects of the toxins in my system. In general, I’ve made a complete recovery and expect no long term effects. I am grateful to be alive and feel very lucky. I’m also grateful for my training in Hanna Somatic Education. It felt great to get back home and in the routine of practicing my somatic exercises, exploring, and able to be comfortable in my body again. It was like coming home to my body as well. I encourage everyone to get a copy of Thomas Hanna’s book: “Somatics: Reawakening the Mind’s Control of Movement, Flexibility, and Health” or to visit the Hanna Somatics website.
Richard Eshelman can be contacted via phone at 607-280-6788, or by email at re16@cornell.edu or upstatehse@aol.com.
A Special Thanks to Kathie Hodge for encouraging me to write this.

1. Editor’s Note: Amanita virosa and Amanita bisporigera are treated as two separate species by most mycologists, but their appearance and effects are quite similar, and the names have sometimes been used interchangeably. The Editor follows the authoritative example of Rod Tulloss and Zhu-liang Yang in treating northeastern North American destroying angels as Amanita bisporigera, whereas Amanita virosa is a strictly European species. There is some satisfaction in this, since A. bisporigera was described from the Ithaca area exactly 100 years ago by my predecessor at Cornell, George F. Atkinson. This is a centennial poisoning!
2. Editor’s Note: For more on Amanita toxicity and recognition please see our Destroying Angels post.
3. Editor’s Note: Alpha-lipoleic acid, also known as thioctic acid, was advocated for treatment of Amanita poisoning in the 1950s and 1960s, but subsequent studies failed to find a therapeutic effect, according to D.R. Benjamin (1995, Mushrooms: Poisons and Panaceas. W.H. Freeman).

Photos: K.T. Hodge (young Amanita), and K.E. Loeffler (the mature Amanita that Richard brought with him to the hospital for identification).

Tegn abonnement på

BioNyt Videnskabens Verden (www.bionyt.dk) er Danmarks ældste populærvidenskabelige tidsskrift for naturvidenskab. Det er det eneste blad af sin art i Danmark, som er helliget international forskning inden for livsvidenskaberne.

Bladet bringer aktuelle, spændende forskningsnyheder inden for biologi, medicin og andre naturvidenskabelige områder som f.eks. klimaændringer, nanoteknologi, partikelfysik, astronomi, seksualitet, biologiske våben, ecstasy, evolutionsbiologi, kloning, fedme, søvnforskning, muligheden for liv på mars, influenzaepidemier, livets opståen osv.

Artiklerne roses for at gøre vanskeligt stof forståeligt, uden at den videnskabelige holdbarhed tabes.