I had to see the doctor yesterday. She gave me a prescription, but I felt too crummy to sit around the pharmacy and wait, so we went home.
This afternoon, my partner and I went to our pharmacy to get the new prescription filled and pick up a refill of cough syrup. While we were wandering around the aisles waiting for the prescription to be filled, a woman went by, leaving her personal aroma trail many feet in her wake. My partner got a whiff and commented on how strong the smell was, and had to hit her rescue inhaler. The woman heard her. Normally, just one of those things.
Except that when I went to the back to wait for my prescription, I couldn't be in the waiting area because of the woman's scent. I looked at her, and she lost her mind. Started yelling about people being rude to her. When I pointed out that our problem was that her fragrance was making us ill, she basically said "everybody else does it." She wouldn't shut up, nor would she lower her volume. A male came out of one of the employee areas to stand between us because the woman kept getting louder and closer. The closer she got, the further my partner had to back up, and that seemed to encourage her verbal escalation.
We're regular customers at this pharmacy, and by regular, I mean it is rare when there's a week that we don't have to purchase prescription medications. When the harridan finished her rant, I told one of the clerks running interference that all I wanted was my prescriptions so I could go back home. She got the pharmacist to finish my order, and took my prescriptions to the other end of the store to check me out. The clerk apologized. Several other employees apologized. Not their fault, I told them, gathered our things, and left.
It was surreal, or maybe the it's the fever. All that woman could do was shriek and jab her index finger toward us and call us, "you people." On the ride home, we debated which class of "you people" we are.
As long as it isn't hers, I figure it's all good.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
The month winds down
The grocery store wasn't bad, except for the laundry detergent aisle. It was a pleasant surprise to find the store nearly empty, so we were able to get in and out quickly.
Since then, things haven't been nearly as fun. Between the weather - damp and cool in contradiction to weather forecasts saying clear and cool - and being out and around, it's a constant struggle to keep breathing without bringing up a lung.
One thing that's really hard to deal with are things that I love. The smell of seasoned hardwood smoke from a fireplace is common in our still primarily rural area. It also makes me start hacking. Like other things over which I have no control, it is truly frustrating to be made housebound by the daily activities of those upwind.
On the less pleasant side of the odor chart are chicken houses and fields covered with freshly spread chicken manure. Manure is a polite word for the waste removed from chicken houses after the animals are captured and sent off to the land of Styrofoam® and plastic, and includes dead chickens and parts of dead chickens, as well as highly concentrated ammonia from urine and the ever popular feces. Being forced inside by that is much easier for me to understand and deal with than the neighbors using fabric softener or dryer sheets whose odor carries for more than a mile.
Since then, things haven't been nearly as fun. Between the weather - damp and cool in contradiction to weather forecasts saying clear and cool - and being out and around, it's a constant struggle to keep breathing without bringing up a lung.
One thing that's really hard to deal with are things that I love. The smell of seasoned hardwood smoke from a fireplace is common in our still primarily rural area. It also makes me start hacking. Like other things over which I have no control, it is truly frustrating to be made housebound by the daily activities of those upwind.
On the less pleasant side of the odor chart are chicken houses and fields covered with freshly spread chicken manure. Manure is a polite word for the waste removed from chicken houses after the animals are captured and sent off to the land of Styrofoam® and plastic, and includes dead chickens and parts of dead chickens, as well as highly concentrated ammonia from urine and the ever popular feces. Being forced inside by that is much easier for me to understand and deal with than the neighbors using fabric softener or dryer sheets whose odor carries for more than a mile.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Just another day
We have two acres of fenced property, greatly enjoyed by our animals. Tuesday was nice, so I cleared the obvious obstacles, donned my mask, and mowed the front acre. I'm hoping it's the last tme this season, but I doubt it.
I'm noticing more and more people wearing masks when they mow. We live in a rural area, and folks on their riding mowers with an inexpensive mask are becoming a common sight. It's about 10-20 percent of the homeowners I see. Professional landscapers, on the other hand, wear safety glasses and hearing protection. I don't think I've seen any wearing respiratory protection.
Our task today is grocery shopping for my partner's father. He's a great guy, 88 and still living on his own. We do his grocery shopping because he won't drive any more and has difficulty walking. We also discovered that it goes a lot quicker if we do it alone, because he stops to chat with anyone and everyone.
I'll have a mask with me, and will take prophylactic cough syrup before we leave. If we're lucky, the store won't be busy, and we shouldn't have any problem apart from the laundry detergent aisle. I'll let you know.
I'm noticing more and more people wearing masks when they mow. We live in a rural area, and folks on their riding mowers with an inexpensive mask are becoming a common sight. It's about 10-20 percent of the homeowners I see. Professional landscapers, on the other hand, wear safety glasses and hearing protection. I don't think I've seen any wearing respiratory protection.
Our task today is grocery shopping for my partner's father. He's a great guy, 88 and still living on his own. We do his grocery shopping because he won't drive any more and has difficulty walking. We also discovered that it goes a lot quicker if we do it alone, because he stops to chat with anyone and everyone.
I'll have a mask with me, and will take prophylactic cough syrup before we leave. If we're lucky, the store won't be busy, and we shouldn't have any problem apart from the laundry detergent aisle. I'll let you know.
Monday, October 20, 2008
There are natural scents that bother us, and we have to work around them, too. There is a bush in our front yard that is blooming now. The service berry has a wonderful aroma, but it bothers both of us, and will be relocated to a more remote part of the yard.
Rotting leaves and straw are full of aspergillus niger, which helps them break down and which played a large part in totalling my health. A. niger is the smelly black mold that grows after water damage. It wreaked havoc on my breathing and memory, and if you see it, RUN THE OTHER WAY!
We wear masks to mow the lawn and many outside tasks. We don't like masks. At best, they are hot and uncomfortable. Worn anyplace where people are, like a store, they are socially isolating. People assume the mask is to protect them from us, and treat us accordingly.
Rotting leaves and straw are full of aspergillus niger, which helps them break down and which played a large part in totalling my health. A. niger is the smelly black mold that grows after water damage. It wreaked havoc on my breathing and memory, and if you see it, RUN THE OTHER WAY!
We wear masks to mow the lawn and many outside tasks. We don't like masks. At best, they are hot and uncomfortable. Worn anyplace where people are, like a store, they are socially isolating. People assume the mask is to protect them from us, and treat us accordingly.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Welcome to my life
My partner and I both suffer from chronic respiratory problems that are exacerbated by scents. We're the people you see in public wearing masks because how you smell makes us sick. Literally.
You can call it whatever you want - perfume, cologne, toilet water, aftershave, etc. - but fragrances are the bane of our existence. Most people don't have a clue as to how they smell to us. Some don't care. We frequently wonder what people are trying to cover up by wearing enough scent to create a personal aroma zone six feet in diameter with a 10 foot or longer trail.
Add to that the odors in stores and shops from candles, air fresheners, and commercial cleaning products - what is used to clean entry rugs where we live is particularly bad - and you can begin to understand why we hate to leave our home.
Some days, we cannot leave the house because of the air quality. When neighbors upwind do laundry, the scent of the fabric softener or dryer sheet from the dryer vent sends us inside behind closed windows and doors. When neighbors use their fireplaces or burn leaves, we must go inside and close up the house. The Dismal Swamp in Virginia, 150 or so miles south of us, was on fire this summer, and we were forced indoors for more than a week.
We didn't ask for this, and wouldn't wish it on anyone. My partner was diagnosed with asthma at the age of five, and somehow survived the medical profession's ignorance. She is one of the first generation to survive her very severe childhood asthma, treated throughout her 1950s childhood with four shots of adrenaline and penicillin daily. My breathing problems are the result of working at ground zero in a sick building. Our lives were blown apart by it and we were lucky to survive. More on that later.
You can call it whatever you want - perfume, cologne, toilet water, aftershave, etc. - but fragrances are the bane of our existence. Most people don't have a clue as to how they smell to us. Some don't care. We frequently wonder what people are trying to cover up by wearing enough scent to create a personal aroma zone six feet in diameter with a 10 foot or longer trail.
Add to that the odors in stores and shops from candles, air fresheners, and commercial cleaning products - what is used to clean entry rugs where we live is particularly bad - and you can begin to understand why we hate to leave our home.
Some days, we cannot leave the house because of the air quality. When neighbors upwind do laundry, the scent of the fabric softener or dryer sheet from the dryer vent sends us inside behind closed windows and doors. When neighbors use their fireplaces or burn leaves, we must go inside and close up the house. The Dismal Swamp in Virginia, 150 or so miles south of us, was on fire this summer, and we were forced indoors for more than a week.
We didn't ask for this, and wouldn't wish it on anyone. My partner was diagnosed with asthma at the age of five, and somehow survived the medical profession's ignorance. She is one of the first generation to survive her very severe childhood asthma, treated throughout her 1950s childhood with four shots of adrenaline and penicillin daily. My breathing problems are the result of working at ground zero in a sick building. Our lives were blown apart by it and we were lucky to survive. More on that later.
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