The Lead Report

That's not lead as in "into temptation" but lead as in pencil, only pencils don't have real lead in them anymore, because children suck on them, and lead is dangerous to children and other living beings. 

So Israel has lead poisoning, but he's fine -- smart as a whip actually, very super-curious and happy.  And yet the Department of Health takes an interest in children with venous lead levels over zero (translation: blood tests, not pinprick tests, that come back with any level over zero, and Israel is at 19 -- hospitalization starts at 45 with emergency chelation as a remedy).  I will let you know what the treatment is for 19 when I get to that appointment, sometime next week. I have heard that eggs are good for taking lead out of the body, as in eating eggs, which might explain why Israel eats 6-10 eggs a day lately.

So J. from the Dept of Health (the DOH) returned this morning for a three hour tour (cue the Gilligan's Island music please) of my apartment, the same apartment I have lived in since just after 9/11, the apartment I have neglected to clean since my first son was about four (2007) when I decided it was better to just have fun with him than to stress about cleanliness.  This has done wonders for our relationship, and we've also seen record growth in terms of our dust levels. 

J. was very nice, and I had the feeling he would have rather hung out and watched Sesame Street's "Do the Alphabet with Baby Bear" on dvd than interview me on his laptop about Israel's medical history (of which I know basically nothing), but we got through the interview. 

"I am so sorry I have to ask you this, but do you know where his mother was born?"

I was so relieved to have such a simple question to answer.  "No," I told him. 

"Well, I guess I will just put you down as his mother, and add a little note at the end explaining the situation." 

His computer allowed for such things as Israel being born in the Democratic Republic of the Congo -- it was part of a pull down list for answer 17a on his form.  J. told me that most of the lead cases seen in New York come from Bangladesh.  (I am making up the part about 17a -- I didn't track his work that well, but it's important to be specific when writing, and it was a pull-down list anyway, and didn't it sound good?)

After the interview he used a hand-held machine pressed against my walls, door, mouldings, frames etc, to measure lead.  He had a control to check that his machine was working -- a four inch by six inch lead paint sample on a piece of wood, and he regularly made sure his machine was working, moving from the wall to the lead paint sample and back again.  After each area was measured, he would enter the data in his laptop.  He told me how I was doing as he went along. 

My apartment was built in 1926.  Lead paint was outlawed in 1978.  I know my place was painted in 2001, and because I have small children, I wasn't intending to repaint until I can trust that these children won't Sharpie the walls (again), so I was anticipating the college years as a good time to repaint.  The DOH threw my plans into a whirlpool of worry that my mind used to spin out all sorts of scenarios where I would have to move out of my home with my boys and live in a hotel off a highway surrounded by blinking neon all night surviving on popcorn and take-out pizza (impossible being gluten/dairy and soy free in this nightmare vision), so I would slowly suffer and then die from all my currently barely-under-control digestive issues and simultaneously go broke from renovation and medical bills!

In reality, my apartment is lead-free.  It is full of toothpaste masquerading as caulk, but toothpaste is also lead-free.  My windowsills are peeling -- J. recommended contact paper since it is waterproof, and I have plants.  I can't wait to go out and find fabulous contact paper!  Lest I celebrate too soon, my door and the doorframe in the hallway (outside my apartment) is full of lead and received the very official red LEAD stamp that the DOH uses to designate places where there is lead -- barely discernible on the mauve doorframe.  I do not feel even a bit like Hester Prynne, well, maybe a teensy bit, but in a good way, like I've always wanted to be a bit like a famous character in a book that everyone is supposed to have read. 

I have no idea what I am supposed to do about my door and doorframe, but J. said the DOH will let me know.  In the meantime, Israel went to the playground today, loved the slide and learned to climb the castle-like structures, actually accepted that it was too cool to play in the sprinkler even though it was on and looked like fun, attended violin class with Eddie, worked on tying and untying his sneakers, ate his sandwich without fuss, enjoyed carrots dipped in mwamba (peanut butter in Lingala, and doesn't it taste more like mwamba than peanut butter?), and fell asleep a happy boy in the trundle beside his big brother.