I've been wanting to tell my mission story for a while, but there's so much to say I'm only now putting it all down in words.

The short version is that I have lifelong nerve damage resulting from arsenic and heavy metal poisoning from my mission in Chile. If I had followed my mission president's 'inspired counsel,' I believe I would have died there. My family eventually got me out on a medical release, but I lived with the guilt and shame of not finishing my mission for many years.

It was a painful wake up call that the LDS church cares more about their image and reputation than about their members.
_____________

Part I - Onset
_____________

In 1990, I was called to the Antofagasta Mission in Chile. My first assignment was in the mining town of Calama, a few miles downhill from Chuquicamata, the largest copper mine in the world. Calama's primary water supply is an aquifer located under an enormous chemical effluent pond outside of town. Every night, clouds of caustic smoke rolled over the town from the mine. Within a few weeks, I began to suffer the effects of painful, debilitating nerve degeneration from arsenic poisoning.

My symptoms started with headaches and light-headedness, but soon included dizziness, foggy vision and abdominal pain. Other missionaries in my area complained of headaches, cloudy vision, fatigue and parasthesia too, but it was quietly ignored. They were seen as 'chueco' (twisted) missionaries, too lazy and homesick to be healed. When I talked to the local members, they told me lots of people in town had my symptoms. They said it was from arsenic and it caused the spots and cancers on their skin. Everyone had them.

After about 6 weeks of worsening symptoms, I made an appointment at the new mining hospital at Chuquicamata. The doctor suspected typhoid or heavy metal poisoning and wanted to admit me for testing. But the mission wouldn't approve that. Instead, I had to take a 4 hour bus trip to the mission home to see the mission doctor.

And so it began.

A week or so later, I was admitted to the Antofagasta University Hospital. For about two weeks, the mission doctor took blood samples and had me on a continuous IV drip, constantly rotating from med to med but never telling me what they were for. Some I recognized as vitamins. Others had complicated chemical names that were like no vitamin I'd ever heard of. One of the IV meds partially paralyzed me, put me in a brief coma and almost stopped my heart.

After several blood tests and two brutal, unsedated upper and lower endoscopies, I was diagnosed with erosive gastritis and non-viral hepatitis, but no viral or bacterial infection. So what would caused that? Why all the different IV meds? The mission doctor said it didn't matter and to stop asking. I suggested arsenic contamination and he said to let him be the doctor. I now suspect he was giving me chelation therapy without an official diagnosis, my knowledge or consent.

After two weeks of testing and medication, I wrote my parents that my symptoms were getting worse. But the mission doctor insisted I had completely recovered ... even while he continued the IV meds. When I again asked about arsenic and heavy metals, he got evasive and defensive. He started asking questions about my stress level ... if I was homesick, if I found mission life difficult, if I missed my friends. I see the problem, he said, you're a hypochondriac.

I was shocked. Never in my life have I exaggerated or created symptoms for emotional reasons. Of course I was stressed. Of course I missed my family and friends. Of course I was scared. I was a new missionary in a foreign country experiencing horrible pain that no one could explain.

With this 'diagnosis,' my mission president ordered me back to work. I was never offered counseling, medication or therapy for my supposed hypochondria. He said faith and repentance would overcome my 'mental problems,' and if I really was in pain, recommitting to the Lord's work would heal me. He also ordered me not to tell anyone about my symptoms, threatening that if I ever mentioned arsenic again, I would be dishonorably released from my mission and lose my eternal salvation for lying before the lord. He ordered my new companion to watch me, make sure I worked the full 14-hour schedule and call in to report every night.

So there I was ... a 20-year-old American, a world away from home in terrible pain. My passport locked in the mission safe. My money controlled by the mission president. My visa application held up in immigration control. I was under constant surveillance by my companion and district leaders, a virtual prisoner, threatened by my spiritual leader with eternal damnation, in continuous pain but dismissed by my doctor. I didn't know what to do. So I did what I was told.

As my condition deteriorated, my vision clouded over and I began to lose my sense of balance and fine motor control. I had to use walls and railings to walk in a straight line. Turning my head set off bombs inside my skull. Digestion of even the lightest food was painful. My joints felt like they were filled with gravel. Every nerve from head to toe was inflamed and painful at the touch of clothing.

The silence ordered by my mission president scared my parents even more than my previous letters. Through my Spanish-speaking brother, they called my mission president and challenged him over my supposed hypochondria. My parents called Salt Lake and made enough noise that the church eventually approved a medical release.

But my mission president wouldn't let me go easily. Even after my release was approved, he made me work 3 additional weeks until the next set of missionaries rotated out. In my exit interview, he insisted I was a hypochondriac, whose real problem was personal sin. He again warned me never to mention arsenic poisoning at the risk of losing my soul.

_______________________

Part II - Homecoming
_______________________

After 20 sleepless hours in planes and airports, I arrived in Miami alone, my ribs and joints aching and my skin on fire. Dragging my suitcases, I limped toward immigration control. I had only spent four months in Chile, but it felt like a lifetime. When I looked up and saw the flag hanging behind the desk, I broke into tears. I was almost home.

Yet I felt like such a failure. I felt guilty for leaving my mission early and ashamed of not being strong enough to die for my faith. I racked my soul looking for hidden sins that didn't exist, some fragment of pride or transgression that could have brought such terrible punishment upon me. Spiritually, I couldn't understand it. My pain was real. So how could my mission president - a man called of god, with the power of priesthood and revelation - think I was faking? Could my terrible pain really be the consequence of sin, lack of faith, or lack of dedication?

No, I had plenty of faith. I had spent years preparing for my mission, studying Spanish in high school and college, winning awards in seminary, praying and studying the scriptures daily. And though no one is perfect, I had no serious sins to speak of. And I was very dedicated. I was a district leader and zone leader in the Missionary Training Center. Every day I wasn't in the hospital, I got up on time, worked hard, testified and baptized like everyone else, even while my head ached, my skin burned and I could barely see. My companion, the district leaders and the assistants to the president had all told me that I wasn't the 'chueco' the mission president had told them to expect.

My doctor in Tallahassee checked me for parasites and infection, but I was still too afraid of my mission president's spiritual threats to request an arsenic test. Terrified of again being labelled a hypochondriac and disbelieved, I played down my pain and he gave me a clean bill of health. Six months later, I was only marginally better but resolved to go back to BYU and get on with my life. Every so often, I would go to the BYU Health Center for help with the pain, but none of them would treat me after they heard my story.

A year or so later, I read an article on arsenic poisoning, and I knew I had to find out once and for all if arsenic was the problem. So I made a deal with my doctor at the Health Center. If she would test my blood for arsenic and it came back negative, I would never bother her about it again.

The test was positive. In fact, the level was so high, it was barely under toxic levels, years after leaving Chile. But since it was technically 'safe,' she told me there was nothing she could do and to honor my agreement never to bring it up again.

It was so frustrating. I finally had proof of the underlying problem, but I didn't know what to do about it or where to turn. Doctors wouldn't or couldn't help me. Friends from before my mission didn't know what to think. Church leaders told me complaining about my leaders was a sin.

Yet even though I had given up on my own health, I felt like I had to try and help the missionaries in my mission. So I wrote a letter to the LDS Missionary Medical Committee, describing my experience. I referenced research from the WHO, Chilean and international geological surveys regarding the extensive arsenic and heavy metal pollution in Calama. A doctor on the committee called me back, promising to look into it, but when I tried to follow up, he wouldn't talk to me. Another dead end.

Maybe Salt Lake was afraid of a lawsuit for sending missionaries into a danger zone. Maybe they were protecting the church's reputation. Maybe they were afraid to speak evil of their fellow spiritual leaders. Or maybe they were just too busy. But their actions spoke louder than their words when they protected the LDS church over their own missionaries.

____________________

Part III - Aftermath
____________________

My perspective has changed a lot since my mission. The idea that sin could cause liver damage, nerve damage, digestive problems, non-viral hepatitis and erosive gastritis is laughable. You have to follow the evidence and find root causes, which all pointed to chemical contamination from the copper mine. But I had been taught to trust my spiritual leaders over myself, that faith was more important than facts and that obedience was more important than truth.

It took several years after my mission for my vision and digestion to return to normal. It took almost 4 years to have relatively more good days than bad. Sitting up was often torture. Exercising released arsenic from my system but caused the old symptoms to flare up. Even now, over 20 years later, I still have flare-ups of hyperesthesia from the residual nerve damage. And as an arsenic survivor, I now have an increased risk of skin and liver cancer.

Some say I should thank the inspired leadership in Salt Lake for getting me out of Chile. But they have it backwards. Salt Lake assigned me there. They tried to make me stay. They needed to raise their missionary retention numbers, fill their baptism quota and increase tithing from new members. They risked my health to get it done. It was my family that got me out ... not my mission president, not the missionary committee, not the doctors on the church payroll. It was my family ... who knew me, trusted me and valued me enough to get it done ... not the inspired leadership.

Others have asked why other missionaries or residents weren't affected. They were. The fact is, one in 1000 people are affected by arsenic in much smaller amounts than others. Some were mocked as being lazy (chuecos). Others were quietly rotated out. One missionary I know of was sent home for 'fatigue.' It was an open secret that something was going on, but the shame culture kept the missionaries from complaining too loudly or asking too many questions.

Looking back, I believe I would have died if I had stayed in Chile. And though it may sound crazy, if my leaders had only told me the truth about the risks, I might even have accepted them and stayed. I was that trusting in my church.

But not for a church that unjustifiably named me a hypochondriac, a sinner and a liar ... that threatened my salvation if I refused to keep my silence ... that tried to frighten me into humbly accepting its slander ... that endangered my health ... all to protect itself from the consequences of sending thousands of missionaries into a toxic environment.

The LDS church is perfect, it insists, but not the members. So it should be no surprise that when the church sees a problem, it closes ranks and blames the people ... inventing spiritual, moral or psychological failings in order to keep the myth of infallibility alive. But the members are good people. The problem is the organization that puts itself above them and sacrifices them to achieve its goals.

Yet in all these actions, I don't see this as personal ... it's just business. And that's the problem. The LDS church is a business. By their works ye shall know them. A house of god protects the faithful. A house of business protects itself.



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 01/15/2015 08:17PM by otterpop.

As a mother, these stories infuriate me.

I feel the same: Outraged, simply as a fellow human, and as a parent.

Thanks for telling this tale that needs to be told. I am so sorry to read of your suffering, and the way you've been treated only compounds it! Thank goodness your parents acted at last!

Best wishes for your health.

This is typical of the reasons that I refused to surrender my passport when I went to a foreign mission.

That is horrifying!

I am boiling right with you, dimmesdale!

Otterpop, what TSCC has put you through is horrific and inexcusable! Are there still missionaries in Calama? Please shout your story from the roof tops. Help get that mission shut down to protect future missionaries. Contact other missionaries that have suffered and bring a class action suit against TSCC! They need to pay for this abuse and neglect!

My son had a pre-existing, heart and lung condition but you wouldn't know it just to look at him. I had heard so many stories of TSCC's abuse and neglect of missionaries, that I knew damn well that TSCC would not give him the medical attention he would need while serving a mission. Our approach with him was to kindly explain that the church insurance would not adequately cover his medical needs. Truth be known, if push came to shove, we would have outright refused to let him go on a mission. Thankfully, he understood the situation and quickly acquiesced. However, even though he went on to complete a law degree, he still paid the social price of not going on a mission.

thank you for sharing this experience.....

Burn down the mission
If we're gonna stay alive
Watch the black smoke fly to heaven
See the red flame light the sky

-- Elton John

Have you checked into chelation therapy? The allopathic doctors don’t sound like they are interested because you are below their ‘toxic threshold’. But a naturopathic doctor will chelate you. Having any of it still in you is bad for you, you need to get it out. Find a naturopath, they don’t require a ‘threshold’ to begin chelation therapy. I wish you all the best in your recovery.

torturednevermo Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Have you checked into chelation therapy? The
> allopathic doctors don’t sound like they are
> interested because you are below their ‘toxic
> threshold’. But a naturopathic doctor will
> chelate you.

Chelation therapy must be administered with care as it has a number of possible side effects, including death. In response to increasing use of chelation therapy as alternative medicine and in circumstances in which the therapy should not be used in conventional medicine, various health organizations have confirmed that medical evidence does not support the effectiveness of chelation therapy for any purpose other than the treatment of heavy metal poisoning.

Get medical advice from doctors.

It's possible the mission doctor was giving me chelation drugs in the hospital. The doc wouldn't tell me what the IVs were, except to call them 'vitamins.' A few of them were actually vitamins (I recognized some like riboflavina, tiamina). But others changed almost every day and had very complicated chemical names. One of the meds almost killed me.

If so, it would be consistent with my theory that he was treating me for arsenic and heavy metal poisoning but didn't want to tell me. I suppose the idea was to avoid a panic or a PR incident. No parent would let their missionary serve in an area flooded with toxic chemicals.

...you'd think that a lot of other missionaries and townspeople would be poisoned as well. In fact, it sounds like it could have been devastating to the whole area.

One of my TBM friend's son did his mission in South America, and he came back with some kind of an intestinal parasite. He even transferred it to his poor mother, and it took both of them months to get rid of it.

One of my companions in Australia was hypoglycemic. His diet was limited to certain things like fish sticks and cabbage, so we ate a lot of that. We had to take a train 30 miles once a month or so for him to see a doctor. I was the DL, so I had to call the mission president every time for permission to leave our area. Every time, the MP acted miffed that we had to lose a precious day of unproductive, pointless door-knocking so my companion could get medical attnetion.

The thing is, these symptoms weren't especially unique. Many members and residents in the area did have it that bad, and many of them had to move away. Skin spots and skin cancers started appearing by their 20s. I never met any resident over 30 who didn't have them.

Also, maybe I was unclear, but other missionaries experienced headaches, cloudy vision, fatigue and parasthesia. One missionary I knew of was sent home for it. Some were able to put up with it. Others were mocked as being lazy (chuecos). Others were rotated out.

The mission knew about the problem. It was an open secret, but the shame culture kept most missionaries from complaining too loudly.

The other strange thing about arsenic poisoning is that 1/1000 people are much more susceptible to it than others and experience much more severe symptoms. However, everyone exposed will experience some level of fatigue and DNA transcription errors as arsenic compounds begin to replace the triphosphate in ATP.

Several factors may make one person more susceptible than another. For example, those with a faster metabolism have more energy to spare and may experience less fatigue. But the higher cellular activity may increase transcription errors and raise their risk of cancer.

Another factor is the rate of degeneration of the myelin sheath. The myelin sheath surrounds the nerve pathways, like insulation around a wire. As arsenic breaks it down, the signal degrades, causing slow or missing reflexes, numbness, tingling, pain or hypersensitivity. Crosstalk can spread a single signal among adjacent nerves, diluting the signal.


EDIT: Good questions. I'm going to add some of the answers into my story.



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 01/15/2015 07:33PM by otterpop.

That says it all.

I wish you well!

I am SO sorry otterpop. What a GHASTLY story!! Good on yer for the announcing it here, and PLEASE take extra good care of yourself!

Here's link to a book containing, among other studies, a 2000-2001 study of your mission area's arsenic environment. According to this study, it wasn't the mine, it's just a natural occurrence in that area. Who knew!

So yeah, EVERYBODY in that area was ingesting arsenic! It does make sense that your sensitivity was greater, but according to that study, nobody there escapes it.

https://books.google.com/books?id=dX_XNF3b6FAC&pg=PA335&lpg=PA335&dq=calama+chile+arsenic+poisoning&source=bl&ots=-fLVmKjWrg&sig=BEsoDsGqyd6ZgTu0x_cE1o68_xY&hl=en&sa=X&ei=EpO4VOXpGcGwogTp1ICABA&ved=0CEUQ6AEwBg#v=onepage&q=calama%20chile%20arsenic%20poisoning&f=false

I am really angry.

Thanks for telling your story here.


Makes me want to go punch that MP in the nose...

Kudos to your parents for believing in your and helping you get out.

As for the church, like you said it's a business that only cares about its bottom line and its image.

Sadly, your story is not unique, there are others who have compromised their health in their missions. There is an European lady who posts here about his son's experiences.

All I can say is thank you for sharing your experience. I'm glad you're out and I wish you the best.

D

That is absolutely horrific! The Goddamn morgbots! Hope everything becomes better. BTW, were you swarmed by BYU girls after your mission? Did any of them mention marriage?

At the very least an e-book!

Any help you need, she will provide it. Cover design, graphics, layout...

Seriously.

I am so ƥİ$$ƐĐ off at how you were treated. I say the mo-church is MORE toxic than the arsenic!!

I hope you're no longer a church member!!!!!!



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 01/17/2015 02:44AM by The StalkerDog™.

The openly profit making ventures of the Mormon "church" include expanding their mining interests in the United States and throughout the world. The same can be said of the church's acquisitions of water rights in third world countries. I cannot help but wonder if this conspiracy of silence is even more insidious then appears on the surface. If so, hopefully the "damn" of secrecy will break somewhere giving thousands of damaged souls the truth and solace they so desperately need and wholeheartedly deserve.

Because this definitely should be read by all.

Maybe you should be John Dehlin's last Mormon Story before he gets the axe!

The church is a global corporation and consequently will always support the corporate state in any dispute.

Myself and some friends and old companions are still suffering digestive track problems from our time in Colombia.

No joke, the mission was not happy with the doctors treatment for me so the mission president had me treated by a Vet , (a horse doctor to be precise ). They thought I had been invaded by a type of round worm that was sickening Cows in the area, so they put me on the same medication as the cows. I know I should have been smarter, but I was a Mormon missionary after all.

The pain was life-changing and I will never forget it, nor forgive the ass-hat of a Utah Lawyer, aka. mission president.

To put Mormonism into perspective I was heading to a zone conference, I had lost 60 pounds my clothes didn't fit, my skin was yellowish and I looked like death, the presidents wife walked toward me, I thought she might have some words of encouragement instead she said," Elder your tie isn't tied correctly today", what a Bitch.

That sounds awful. I can't believe he sent you to a veterinarian. What was he thinking!

Of course it is impossible to know what another is thinking but the first possibility that comes to mind is he may have been wanting to keep this young man's crippling health issues off the official medical records in an effort to protect himself from personal liability for insisting he remain in an area easily proven to be environmentally toxic. Id really like to see if he'd be willing to send his own sons and daughters to the exact same location for several months as a missionary.

Again, I can't know because Don Bagley isn't the only one with crappy parents, but my best guess for that is still, no, he probably would not expose anyone he cherished to arsenic laden soil, water and air.

Just want to let you know I look forward to and read as many of your posts as I come across. Having cruel, uncaring, stingy parents is about the worst way possible to begin life. Though I know of no way to truly "get over it" I admire the person you have made of yourself despite tremendous personal adversity. I was worried my post above may have come across as dismissive. I hope not.

I am truly moved to see so many here with stories of their own reach out to this young man who was terribly used and abused by such an evil, profit driven corporation disguised as a humanitarian outreach church. I dream of the day when all our stories are thought to made up by our grandkids who refuse to believe humans could ever be so deliberately mean to their fellow man. *Sigh*

My brother went to Columbia in the 80's. He had to come home early because he got so sick from digestive issues. This was the norm, not the exception. There needs to be some lawsuits going on here.

This thred makes me wonder what my stepson will suddenly be afflicted with in the years to come. He was in kaohsiung Taiwan. He seemed to be ok while he was there, but he's not the kind to ever let on he's not doing or feeling well.

I had two brothers who went on missions in SA. One came home early, the other would have rather died than come home early.

The missionaries are emotionally beaten into silence about their conditions. I have to wonder about the thousands that have gotten chronically ill or worse.

If we knew the numbers, i'm sure there would be an outrage that would come from that information. I have to wonder, how many lives have been hampered or destroyed. These people have to be encouraged to speak out.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 01/17/2015 01:19AM by madalice.

Otterpop, your story really resonates with me. Back in the late 60s, I spent two years in the Chilean Andes/Atacama Desert. I wasn't there on an LDS mission but instead I was an employee of a subsidiary of Anaconda Copper who operated both the Chuqui mine and the El Salvador mine to the south. I lived in Potrerillos where the smelter/refinery was located @10,000 ft elevation. I don't believe there were any scrubbers on the smokestacks at that time so depending on wind flow, we got it all.

Jump forward to approx 5 yrs ago when I learned that Potrerillos has been completely abandoned because of...you guessed it...arsenic, etc. The population has been moved to some town some distance away but workers are still bused in to work. I'm told they have to wear clean suits, go through showers after each shift and live in climate controlled apts for the several days of their shifts. Potrerillos has been declared toxic and ordinary visitors are not allowed, nothing can be touched or carried away.

So, I've been left wondering why we weren't given any info or warning back when and what, if any deleterious effects to my health. And even worse, I became pregnant while there. Could there be any residual effects to my mid-40s son?

I realize my experience wasn't as obviously dangerous as yours but just reading your story really took me back. I feel for you and what you've had to endure.

Otherwise I loved my time there and loved the chilenos also.

It's awful what corporations will do for profits (or prophets). What you don't know saves them money.

Just out of curiosity, were there any Mormons beside yourself working for Anaconda Copper?

Hi Hmmmmm, Yes there was
at least 1 other LDS family that I heard of but they were living in the "sister city", El Salvador (so named because a new vein of copper was found there after the original played out). I never met them and know they weren't observant because there wasn't anywhere in the area to congregate. The closest place I knew of was in Santiago at the mission hdqtrs.

Well whadda ya know?

I knew this thread rang a bell.

Hi Sis. :o)