Invisible Fires: Pollution, Plastics, and the Choices We Hold
- Dr. Howard A. Friedman MD, founder of HHOM LLC
- Aug 18
- 7 min read
8-17-2025
By Dr. Howard Friedman MD | Veteran | U.S. Army Medical Corps | Internal Medicine | HHOM LLC

The air we breathe is not our own,
It carries ash, it carries stone.
The water holds what we can’t see,
A silent thread of chemistry.
Yet in the haze, a spark remains—
The power to mend, to break these chains.
—Dr. Howard Friedman, MD
Introduction – Naming the Weight Honestly
We live in an age of invisible fires. The plastic bottle that seems harmless on a shelf ends up broken down into microscopic fragments that now travel in our bloodstreams. Everyday products—soaps, sprays, plastics, even the wrappers on our food—carry chemicals that whisper like hormones, altering signals our bodies have relied on for millennia. The air itself no longer belongs only to the wind; it carries smoke from wildfires that now burn hotter and longer than ever before. And we have witnessed, in the suffering of 9/11 responders, what happens when a community is left to breathe in toxins for days, months, even years.
These aren’t distant problems reserved for scientists or policymakers. They are woven into the breath we take, the water we drink, and the homes where we raise our children. To pretend otherwise is to close our eyes while the smoke rises around us. But naming these realities is not surrender. It is the first step toward reclaiming agency—because even in a polluted world, choices remain, and resilience is still within reach.
The Hidden Threats
Some dangers arrive with sirens and flashing lights. Others slip in quietly, particle by particle, until they live inside us. The modern world has given us comforts unimagined by previous generations—but also exposures they never had to face.
Microplastics are now found in human blood, in the lungs, and even in placentas. These fragments come from bottles, clothing fibers, and packaging that never fully disappear. Each fragment is small, but together they form a silent invasion of our most vital systems.
Endocrine disruptors—chemicals designed for convenience—can mimic our natural hormones. They hide in pesticides, plastics, and everyday household products. What they disrupt is not dramatic at first; it’s slow, subtle, altering growth, metabolism, fertility, and even the age at which children enter puberty.
Airborne threats are harder to ignore. Wildfire smoke now drifts across entire continents, carrying fine particulates that inflame lungs and hearts alike. City smog and diesel exhaust compound the problem, turning every breath into a gamble for those with asthma, heart disease, or simply the misfortune of living downwind.
And then there are occupational exposures, the kind that don’t just shorten lives but shatter communities. The 9/11 responders stand as a painful reminder: men and women who rushed into danger to save others were left breathing a toxic cloud that seeded cancers, lung disease, and endless suffering. They became living testimony to what happens when invisible poisons are allowed to linger.
These hidden threats share one thing in common: they are everywhere. We cannot wall ourselves off entirely. But recognizing them is not meant to paralyze us. It is meant to sharpen our vision—because only when we see the enemy clearly can we choose how to respond.
Shifting the Lens to Agency
If the threats feel overwhelming, that is because they are. But despair is not the only option. Agency begins not with the illusion of control over everything, but with the small and deliberate choices that bend the balance back toward health.
We cannot erase microplastics from the oceans, but we can reduce the fragments entering our bodies. Choosing glass or stainless steel over single-use plastic bottles, filtering tap water, and washing synthetic clothing less often all lower the burden.
We cannot banish every hormone-mimicking chemical from the marketplace, but we can cut down our exposure. Avoiding heavily fragranced products, limiting pesticides in our gardens, and steering away from plastics labeled with BPA or phthalates give the body a chance to operate as it was meant to.
We cannot stop the wind from carrying wildfire smoke, but we can create clean air spaces inside our homes. A HEPA filter in a single room can turn one space into a refuge on smoky days. Sealing leaks, running an air purifier, or simply knowing where to find a “clean air center” in the community may mean the difference between illness and resilience.
Even in the aftermath of large-scale exposure—like the tragedy faced by 9/11 responders—agency takes the form of screening and monitoring, of demanding care and resources, of refusing to be silent when invisible poisons take their toll.
The point is not purity; it is progress. Every small reduction adds up. Each choice carves out a margin of safety in a world where safety cannot be guaranteed. And in that carving, we reclaim something essential: the belief that our actions still matter.
Collective Hope
Individual choices matter, but they are not enough. A mother can buy glass bottles instead of plastic, but she cannot move the smokestack down the road by herself. A veteran can set up an air filter in his home, but he cannot rewrite zoning laws that put entire neighborhoods under a haze of diesel exhaust.
Hope grows larger when it is shared. And there are signs of progress. Certain plastics, like BPA, have been banned in children’s products. Communities are pushing for tighter regulation of PFAS—the so-called “forever chemicals.” Firefighters, veterans, and 9/11 responders have forced the creation of monitoring and compensation programs that didn’t exist a generation ago.
But collective hope also means facing inequity head-on. For decades, economic pressure has forced families to live near garbage dumps, busy highways, or under high-voltage power lines. These are not just personal misfortunes—they are public choices that can be unmade. Planting trees, relocating waste sites, enforcing clean air standards near schools and homes—these are decisions societies can take when citizens demand better.
The hope lies in knowing that the arc is already bending. What once seemed untouchable—the cigarette industry, lead in gasoline, asbestos in homes—has been rolled back. The same can be true for today’s hidden threats. It takes persistence, it takes advocacy, but it is possible.
Anchoring in Resilience
Resilience isn’t a slogan; it is biology and behavior, reinforced by community. When we cut exposures—even imperfectly—the body responds. The liver and kidneys clear more efficiently when the inputs are cleaner: filtered water, fewer solvents and fragrances, less ultra-processed food. Sleep becomes non-negotiable repair time; seven to nine hours in a dark, cool, and quiet room restores hormonal rhythms that endocrine disruptors try to hijack and lowers inflammatory signaling. Movement—whether walking, resistance work, or even steady breath practice—improves lung mechanics, supports lymphatic flow, sharpens insulin sensitivity, and steadies mood. No gym membership is required; consistency is the medicine.
Resilience begins at home as well. One HEPA purifier can transform a room into a clean-air refuge. Switching from plastic to glass or steel where it is practical lowers the body’s toxic burden. Simple cleaning basics—soap, water, vinegar—do most of the work without the chemical fog of synthetic fragrance. A single-point water filter at the sink offers protection every time a glass is filled. None of these changes create perfection, but each creates a margin of safety.
Clinical resilience matters most for those at higher risk—firefighters, veterans, industrial workers. For them, screening is not optional. Baseline spirometry, blood pressure checks, metabolic labs, mental health evaluations, and exposure-informed follow-up transform “watchful waiting” into active protection. Documenting symptoms and exposures not only strengthens care today, but also lays the foundation for advocacy tomorrow.
And resilience extends beyond the individual. Communities can designate clean-air hubs for smoke days, plant trees to cool and cleanse the air, and demand traffic calming near schools to reduce exhaust exposure. Showing up at council meetings, pushing back when waste sites are planned near homes, refusing to allow neighborhoods without political clout to bear the heaviest burdens—this is how inequity is undone.
None of these actions will purify the world. What they do is make us harder to break. That same principle carried service members through deployments and sustained 9/11 responders through recovery: control what you can, prepare for what you cannot, and stand together when the air grows thick.
Conclusion
Pollution, plastics, smoke, and hidden chemicals are not abstract threats. They are woven into the fabric of our daily lives. Yet even in a world where toxins seem inescapable, hope lives in our choices and our collective will. We cannot solve everything alone, but we can reduce our exposures, demand fairer policies, and build resilience—in our bodies, our homes, and our communities.
That balance—naming the weight while pointing toward agency and healing—is what drives my work. At Howard’s House of Medicine, I believe health is not just about diagnosing disease, but about helping people see where they still have power, even in difficult circumstances.
Thank you for reading, and for walking this path toward a healthier future with me. And because sometimes the spirit needs poetry as much as it needs science, I leave you with these closing words;
The sea is lined with broken glass,
The sky with smoke, the fields with ash.
Yet still the seed will find its place,
And children laugh with fearless grace.
We cannot cleanse the world alone,
But we can guard what is our own.
And in that act, both small and true,
The spark of hope begins anew.
—Dr. Howard Friedman, MD
—Dr. Howard Friedman MD
Board-Certified | Internal Medicine | Veteran | U.S. Army Medical Corps
Founder of Howard’s House of Medicine (HHOM LLC)
Frequently Asked Questions:
Q: How do microplastics and invisible pollutants affect human health?
A: Microplastics and hidden chemicals infiltrate our bodies through the air we breathe, the water we drink, and the food we eat. Once inside, they can trigger inflammation, disrupt hormones, and increase risks for conditions like heart disease, respiratory illness, and even developmental changes in children. The danger is not dramatic in a single exposure—it’s the slow accumulation over time that causes lasting harm.
Q: What small steps can individuals take to protect themselves and their families?
A: While we can’t eliminate every toxin, small consistent choices add up. Using glass or stainless steel instead of plastic, filtering drinking water, avoiding heavily fragranced products, and keeping a HEPA filter in the home can all reduce exposure. These aren’t about perfection—they’re about carving out a margin of safety that gives the body room to repair and recover.
Q: Why is community action just as important as personal choices?
A: Individual effort matters, but pollution is also a structural issue. A mother can choose safer bottles, but she can’t shut down a smokestack alone. Real change requires collective advocacy—pushing for cleaner air standards, reducing industrial waste, and ensuring no community is forced to live with disproportionate toxic burdens. Hope grows stronger when it is shared, and lasting progress comes when we work together.



Comments