Girls Only

What did one tampon say to the other? Nothing. They were both stuck up bitches.

Menstrual Supplies  Sanitary pads, panty liners and tampons are normally made with all kinds of synthetic materials, pesticide-grown, bleached cotton and perfumes that can make chemically-sensitive lady parts react badly. There was a news alert many years ago about feminine hygiene product manufacturers adding arsenic to tampons so women would bleed more, and therefore, buy more. I have no idea if this is one of those urban myths, but when it comes to the money-making machine, anything is possible.

I've always believed the theory if it's trying to get out of your body, you shouldn't be plugging it up and keeping it inside. It would be like vomiting and holding it in your mouth for a few hours. I imagine the old, rotting blood festering the walls of my vagina and seeping into my blood stream. I stopped using tampons years ago after reading about the arsenic.

Long, long ago in a galaxy far away women used menstrual rags, or strips of fabric,  which is where the saying "on the rag" started. Fascinating, until you are faced with the reality that you'd have to wash these soiled rags daily. YUCK. Hand wash even, because I doubt if you'd want to put all that mess in a washing machine. I confess, I was intrigued and gave it a trial run because 1) I wanted to control what was used near my body, 2) I liked the idea of using something recyclable rather than wasteful filling up our landfills, and last but not least, 3) at the time I was disabled, unemployed and trying to think of creative money-saving ideas. Sanitary pads are expensive when you are thinking you'd rather be able to afford rent. The non-toxic kind are even more expensive. Even with my financial woes, I didn't last a day. Too gross for me.

I couldn't use the regular, chemically-made sanitary pads. When I first became hypersensitive, I started having problems in the nether regions (see below) and I wondered why my lungs hurt and my sinuses were congested during my periods. I questioned the safety of cheap, conventional sanitary pads. They were barely scented, but scented nevertheless.  I eventually forked out money for the organic cotton, latex-free, plastic-free, chlorine-free and fragrance-free sanitary pads by Natracare. They are found at health food stores and some grocery stores.

The latest thing is the Diva Cup. Bloggers are raving about it. According to the instructions, it's a little cup that comes in two different sizes (selection depends on your age and childbirth history), you stick it up there, it catches all the menstrual blood, every ten hours or so you remove it, empty it and wash it out, re-insert. Once a month you give it a good washing with soap and hot water and store it in a breathable cloth pouch until next month. I like that it is environmentally friendly. I'm not sure about putting silicone up in my lady parts, but I guess it's safer than plastic. It costs between $24.00 and $34.00 depending on where you buy it. If anyone has tried this, please leave a comment.

Douches  Douching shouldn't be done by anyone unless prescribed by a doctor and even then, who wants to trust doctors who have sold their souls to the drug and chemical companies? With chemical ingredients such as sodium chloride, citric acid, sodium benzoate, disodium EDTA, octoxynol-9, and fragrance, is it any wonder douching would screw up our natural vaginal ecosystems and make us more susceptible to pelvic inflammation and yeast infections? The package claims it will make you feel fresh and clean. I want to know who brainwashed society into believing that fresh and clean is far better than healthy and safe?

Feminine Hygiene Sprays  Ah, yes, another product designed to make us feel more self-conscious about the way our natural human bodies smell. Ingredients include: glycerides, polyoxyethylene, benzalkonium chloride, chlorhexidine, isopropyl myristate and perfume causing bladder infections, burning, itching, swelling, boils, and blood in the urine. These sprays are also linked to cervical cancer. Anything with -ene on the end causes cancer and anything with chlor- is chlorine.

Contraceptive Sponges These are little sponges soaked with spermicide used as temporary forms of birth control. The spermicides used are benzalkonium chloride, sodium cholate or nonoxyl-9, the latter being problematic for many women. One horrible experience was enough to inflict psychological damage to last a lifetime. Unbeknownst to me due to lack of pain, this nonoxyl-9 inflamed the walls of my vagina so severely I woke up in the middle of the night bleeding profusely. When I say profusely I think I went through a whole box of sanitary pads in an hour. It was all I could do not to panic and to hold on until morning when I could rush myself to the free clinic at my university. The doctor told me I had deep lacerations as my vagina walls had split open. I have scars to prove it - physically and mentally. Contraceptive sponges in general make one more susceptible to yeast infections, urinary tract infections or toxic shock syndrome, and, well, vaginal disintegration.

Birth Control Pills  Yeah, they are drugs, and yeah, lots of women have bad reactions that may or may not go away once the dosages are adjusted, and yeah, they make one more susceptible to cancer, but if you don't want to be pregnant non-stop, this is the best way to prevent that. Oh, except abstinence.

Other Nether Region Issues

I like the term "nether regions". It sounds like hell which is an accurate description of some of my experiences. Let me preface this story with I have rarely had yeast infections in my life, maybe two at the most. I've never had urinary infections,  bacterial infections or sexually transmitted diseases.


When I first became chemically sensitive I started getting symptoms similar to a yeast or bacterial infection: burning like the fires of hell in the nether regions. BURNING! See why I like the hellish term, nether regions? I did all my home remedies and nothing helped. I went to three different doctors who did all kinds of tests and they all told me I was fine. Nothing was wrong. Hello? Except I was burning like the fires of hell. One doctor told me I had the "cleanest" vagina he'd ever seen. Why, thank you! But he still had no idea what was wrong with me nor what to do about it.  One prescribed cortisone cream which made it worse. Another said Hmmm...maybe it's some kind of infection that didn't show up on the tests and she gave me antibiotics for fun. The antibiotics made it go away but then as soon as the prescription ended, it all came back and worse. So I figured out really fast doctors were pretty useless, as usual, and I started reading and doing experiments.


I read about VULVITIS. Ugly word, I know. This is an inflammation of the vulva caused by perfumes, soaps, bubble baths, shampoos or any kind of chemical that might have access to the lady parts. Well, that makes sense! This was what initially inspired me stop using all soaps and shampoos and I never went back. It didn't help. With each passing day, the burning got worse. I was in tears most of the time, wondering how I could have ever taken for granted a non-burning vagina. The good old days.


I switched from conventional sanitary pads to organic, non-toxic ones and my lungs and sinuses cleared. I was hoping this was an easy answer to the burning, too. Nope, but it did force me to rethink the menstrual supplies I was buying.

Then by chance I came across an article about detoxification treatments throwing off your pH balance. As your body cleans and re-balances itself, it will temporarily become more alkaline. I was doing all kinds of dietary detoxification programs trying to ease the chemical sensitivity. The author's example of a symptom was those little cold sore like blisters in your mouth. This would indicate a pH imbalance. Hmmmm...I was getting those. So I surmised if it's a pH imbalance, could my vaginal fluid be too alkaline?


How would I make my system less alkaline?  First, I began drinking gallons of unsweetened cranberry juice. Not pleasant and it did nothing to cool the fires of hell. The whole time I'm wondering if my body is alkaline, they why am I not getting bladder infections or urinary tract infections?  What are other ways to change the alkalinity of my vaginal fluid? Ponder, ponder....

Who would have thought that high school chemistry class would have real-life value? Vinegar. I tried washing the lady parts with vinegar which is the highest food-based acidic substance, just a little lower than battery acid. Yeah, this remedy isn't for anyone with a low tolerance for pain, but by this time I was in so much pain I had nothing to lose. The first ten seconds it burned like acid (but not worse than the fires of hell) then all the burning was gone! It was a miracle!

I have yet to meet a doctor who knows what it is or what to do. I am very thankful for vinegar. For a while if I ate an exceptionally healthy diet that caused any kind of detoxification, the burning comes back and if I ate sugar and junk, it would go away. Made me want to eat chocolate and ice cream for every meal!

Now I used panty liners and change them all the time. If the burning returns, I wash with vinegar and question my diet.  I think the healthier diet I now eat has controlled it for the most part.

More theories:

VULVODYNIA Symptoms include itching, burning, and pain. Statistics show 2.4 million women have this problem and it is thought to be caused by inadequate hormone levels causing inflammation. No one knows for sure. And no one knows what to do with it which doesn't help. I very recently read about a doctor who prescribes estrogen tablets to insert up the nether regions rather than ingest. That will be my next experiment, but I wonder why detoxing makes it worse if it's hormonal?

VESTIBULITIS (or VULVAR VESTIBULITIS)  This is another inflammatory skin condition causing itching, burning, and pain. Again, no one knows what causes it and this is no help.

Chemicals tend to be hormone-disruptors so blaming burning-like-the-fires-of-hell on lack of hormones actually makes sense. As I've said in previous posts, the fact that no one knows what causes it is a clue it has something to do with chemicals that doctors refuse to acknowledge. I get so tired of the AMA being so damn incompetent!

Does anyone have any other personal experiences of hell?

Has anyone found any alternative products?

Miracle treatments?

Hug-Free Zone

Years ago I read an article on the benefits of hugging. They claimed all kinds of health issues if a person wasn't hugged enough in their lifetime and cited studies on belligerent babies growing up to be mass murders who were purposely not hugged in these experiments. I'm not sure who would impose this sort of abuse on an infant, but I bought into it. I decided I had too many boundaries and was determined to be hugged non-stop regardless of the ramifications of over-hugging. (Over-hugging seems equally as dangerous, but it's very American to believe if a little bit of something is good for you, then a lot of it has to be better.) I hugged everyone, all the time. Friends, co-workers, relatives, boyfriends, religious people, plumbers, milkmen, grocery cashiers, postal people, employers and landlords.  A stranger once told me I was a great hugger. I was a very friendly, affectionate person.

Then I became chemically sensitive...and people kept hugging me! Smelly people! My self-training was so automatic not only would I let them, but my arms would go up in welcome. Even people I knew who were stinky and those who knew I couldn't be around it. They'd hug me anyway and I'd hug them back. As soon as I could smell the poison, I would wonder what ever possessed me? I knew better, but I was addicted. Many times it was necessary to remove my contaminated clothes in my car, throw them in the back seat, and drive home half naked.

I had to re-train myself not to hug. Sad, I know, but necessary. It took me a long time, too. I studied the warning signs. Timing was a clear indicator. If we were at the end of a visit or saying good-bye, beware. I'd see the it's-time-to-hug look in their eyes. Everyone has this look and often they are assessing whether hugging is appropriate or not. I'd discreetly step back and cross my arms. This sort of behavior usually screams BOUNDARIES! NO WAY! DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! Those who don't read body language well will begin to slightly lean toward me.  Step back again ever so slightly or turn sideways. Their hands start moving upward. If I had stepped back properly they would need to step toward me before making contact. One more attempt at getting closer and I'd have to raise my hands to block their advance or a real quick, "It was nice to see you. Bye!" wave with palms out and walk away. All these steps can happen very quickly. Don't underestimate their speed. We are hug-addicted people.

Sometimes when I see the it's-time-to-hug look, I verbalize my anti-social behavior. "I don't hug. It's dangerous."  The looks of shock and disbelief I'd get made me feel like I just confessed to torturing baby animals. Not hugging was unthinkable. With more explanation, they'd look at me like I told them I had cancer. Oh, I'm soooo sorry! It must be so difficult. I'd tilt my head, do the grief nod and reply, "Oh, it is so hard, but unavoidable."

There are events that are conducive to hugging. Family reunions, for example. Just try telling your smelly great Aunt Martha who hasn't seen you for a year you don't hug. After being reprimanded with That's ridiculous, come here! she'll grab you. At any religious meeting, hugging is mandatory. It's a spiritual-fellowship-bonding thing. Dating sometimes inspires hugging, but normally hugging starts after the dating phase while in the relationship phase. At this point, intimacy is kind of expected and hopefully they've already passed their fragrance-free training.

I've often thought about having a t-shirt or a button made which might save me some repetitive disclosure. Do Not Hug Me! But I fear this would inspire bad jokes which would annoy me greatly. Maybe someday.

All in the Family

I chose not to get married and have kids at a very early age because I expected I would live a single woman's life of adventure. I was told as a young girl I didn't NEED to get married because I had too much going for me. This was the most influential advice of my life and given to me by a woman in a very bad marriage. At the time I made the assumption this very sad wife must have needed to get married and I vowed I'd never be so needy.

As women, we have lived with the stigma of past social norms and traditional gender roles. Men provided and women managed the home. Women weren't expected to provide for themselves because it was thought they were incapable of independence. Although these ideas are slowly becoming outdated and archaic, so many women still marry for security rather than love.

When I became chemically sensitive, I temporarily lost my ability to support myself and I was forced to sacrifice much of my lifestyle to be healthy. It was frightening to feel so alone and vulnerable and it changed forever my perception of self-reliance and security. I now understand the feeling a woman might have to NEED to marry. How nice it would be to have a man to care for me and support me. No stress over not being able to work and pay the bills. Someone to shop for me. Someone to do home improvements and maybe a little car maintenance. I understand it now. Idealistically, I envision a house full of supportive family members lovingly adjusting their lifestyles to fit my health needs. My own built-in community! Who needs outsiders when I have a fragrance-free family? How perfect!

Well, life is rarely perfect. Some MCSers have supportive, caring relatives, but in reality most family members don't understand unless they have personal experience being chemically sensitive themselves. Relatives may (or may not!) be concerned at first and strive to assist, but after a while, the effort becomes too exhausting as they search for answers that aren't there. Eventually, they wonder if their spouse or sibling is mentally ill or making it all up. Families often express a certain entitlement to their chemically sensitive relatives. After all they have known this person all their lives so how can this be happening?  It doesn't make sense to them and the stress of constant support gets to be too much.

Many MCSers have expressed guilt. They aren't able work and they worry about not contributing. How will the family manage on a one-income household after years of double incomes? When will their husbands decide it's too much trouble? What will happen if their husbands decide to leave them? The medical bills are too expensive. The hopelessness of chronic illness is taxing. This wasn't the idea of marriage agreed upon at the wedding.

Chemically sensitive parents worry they can't be normal parents and provide a normal life for their children. They are unable to attend school events, classroom activities, parent conferences or sports events. No birthday parties. No vacations. No family reunions or holiday gatherings. No slumber parties or friends over for after school snacks. How do they shop for clothes and school supplies when they can't go near a mall? How does one keep a teenager from wearing scented products and perfumes?

Others experience their family's unsupportive, negative attitudes toward their health issues. Their grown children purposely wear scented products and accuse them of faking illness for attention. Their husbands tell them they are pretending to be sensitive only as a reason to quit a job. They assume their loved one has a secret agenda for being ill, and they are pretty sure it's to ruin their own self-centered lives.

A chemically-sensitive patient came into the medical offices where I was a medical assistant. He immediately became anaphylactic upon entering the waiting room and I escorted him out of the building back into fresh air. This was his first visit seeing this doctor who claimed to be an environmental specialist although was obviously incapable of providing a safe waiting room for his patients. In her husband's stead, the wife kept the appointment and I stood outside with him. Later I was told the wife informed the doctor she was concerned for her husband's mental health as he was afraid of leaving his house. She believed it had nothing to do with chemical sensitivity - he was making it all up so he wouldn't have to go outside. Listening only to the wife and not even meeting with the patient, the doctor diagnosed him with agoraphobia.  How betrayed the patient must have felt by his own wife's misunderstanding and lack of support.

My family members are preoccupied with self-indulgent addictions and I learned long ago expecting any kind of support is futile. Expectation breeds disappointment and that is worse than my self-imposed exile. What I don't understand is why no one else in my family is chemically sensitive? We have the same genes, same childhood, same background. I'm the only one who doesn't smoke, who doesn't drink, who doesn't do drugs, doesn't wear scented products, and who doesn't eat Hostess Twinkies for breakfast. Where did I go wrong and why are they off the hook? If I die before any of them, I guarantee I'm going to haunt them mercilessly!

Every now and then I briefly imagine what it would be like with a caring husband and loving children supporting me through tough times, but most of the time I think the dream is unrealistic. I have yet to meet a chemically sensitive person who has family support and/or doesn't feel guilt. I have enough to think about; I don't need the stress. I am thankful I live alone and I do have a lot going for me. I have control of my air space, what or who comes into the house, what I eat, how I spend my day, what I do, and most importantly, control over the detrimental attitudes I would be forced to endure from people who don't care and don't attempt to understand. And adventure is relative (pun could be intended). Being chemically sensitive is an adventure all by itself!

Who in your family is the most supportive?

Who is the least?

What is your best family story?

Ocean Adventures Part 3: I've Got Crabs!

This is my third ocean adventure of the year and I am happy to announce I am now caught up - three visits in three months. I am well on my way to completing my New Year's Resolution of ocean adventures!

I headed to a little fishing town on the coast and as you can see it's practically deserted this time of year. During the summer this town has a different festival every weekend, jam packed with tourists, but for today, it's dead. Just the way I like it - people-free and therefore, scent-free!

At the edge of town is a rock wall that holds the crashing waves back. It's quite spectacular to watch the waves crash against it. I stood on top of the rocks to get these pictures.

Every time a wave rolled in my head would spin so I had to be careful not to lose my balance. I avoided getting too close to the water for fear a wave would suck me into the surf.

I felt fortunate the sun was shining as the weather has been so bad lately. It was still cold, but the fresh air was invigorating and the water beautiful.

After watching the waves, I walked around the harbor looking at the piers and boats.

In the far distance through the boats I could see a pier that looked like it would have great views of the ocean, but I had to figure out how to get over there. Time to explore.

I had to meander around the harbor, down to the water, along the dock with boats, over this bridge to get to the distant docks.

There I discovered nice, friendly people using fishing poles to catch crabs. I've always seen those crab traps, but I had no idea you could use fishing poles. Can you see the raw chicken leg in the center of the trap? That's what they use for bait.

They also showed me how to tell the girl crabs from the boy crabs. This one is a girl. It's illegal to keep the girls so they are thrown back. Boy crabs are measured to make sure they are big enough. Little ones are thrown back. I liked it when they threw them back. I'm not so good at killing things.

It was a great adventure on a beautiful day!

The Dating Game

If you thought dating was difficult before, try mixing dating with chemical sensitivity! In addition to the challenges associated with disclosure and friendship, with a romantic relationship close proximity is inevitable so serious fragrance-freeness is really important. I knew a woman who classified dates into four categories. I'll borrow her categories and tweak them for chemical sensitivity:

Anti-Dates This is a date that had all the signs of hope and ends up a nightmare experience.

There are two types of chemically sensitive anti-dates. The first are men who bathed in cologne, aftershave, smelly deodorant, etc., and cannot or will not give up their habits. Take BRENT*, for instance.  He seemed like a nice guy so when he asked me out, I thought sure and gave him the rules for fragrance-freeness. He sounded eager to comply. Whew, relief! Well, maybe not. He couldn't live without his mouthwash, deodorant or smelly laundry detergent with fabric softener, but did he tell me that before the date? Nope, he showed up smelling like a French whore. His attitude was, "Oh well! What are you going to do about it?" Did he totally ignore my request on purpose? Was he just so arrogant what I was saying was not important to him? Was he testing me? Or was he just a defiant, disrespectful jerk? Disrespectful, odoriferous arrogance is a total turn off.

The second type are fragrance-free men who are clearly wrong for any number of reasons even though they don't stink. Take STEVE*, for instance.  No stink whatsoever.  I thought he was too perfect to be true. He was a doctor, with a real job, drove a working vehicle, owned his house, very worldly, seemed very smart, and gorgeous. Did I say gorgeous? I can overlook a whole lot of horrible for gorgeous. Too good to be true? Even gorgeous can turn ugly in a relatively short period of time. He was a drug addict and abusive. Even though fragrance-free men are difficult to find and fragrance-free gorgeous men are rather non-existent, I won't lowered my standards.

Un-Dates  The opposite of a date, usually a time planned to annoy someone or annoying men you don't have any interest in but you wonder if maybe you just don't know them well enough.

Stinky men who claim they are fragrance-free, but clearly aren't. Take MARTIN*, for instance. He bathed in Dial soap, used Herbal Essence shampoo, washed his clothes in Tide, but he claimed he was just fine and follows the fragrance-freeness rules because he rinses twice. WTF? How many times do I need to tell him multiple rinses with water do not work? He doesn't accept his skin will offgas poison for days. (Especially after he eats when his body starts sweating. Yuck.) He doesn't listen. He doesn't care. He expects we'll do it his way because he is the man. End of story. Besides the stink, arrogance with stupidity is total turn off.

Non-Dates  A date without romance with at least one party not interested.

Fragrance-free men who are not relationship material but you do things together. Take EDDY*, for instance. He was fragrance-free and gay. We used to go to restaurants and movies together in the city. He was awesome.

Fragrance-free lesbians who are not relationship material because we aren't on the same team, but we don't know this when we first meet. Take LES*, for instance. She was fragrance-free, interesting, and nice. I thought "Oh, new friend!" She wanted me to see a really cool coffee/tea shop nearby that I never knew existed. Fun. When she started talking about her ex-partner I finally figured out this might have been considered a date for her.

Fragrance-free men with whom I might have an interest, but they don't. Take DAVE*, for instance. He was fragrance-free and we did all kinds of fun things together. On every date he would say, "This is not a date." It was incredibly annoying. I started calling him "Not-a-Date-Dave."  After a while I lost interest in him and thought he was an adequate acquaintance. Maybe this is an un-date? Can't decide.

Perfect Dates Fragrance-free men who are perfect. Since being chemically sensitive, these are very rare gifts.

Just when I'm about to give up, along comes hope. Take DEXTER*, for instance. Of course, I just met him so right now he's a figment of my imagination. What I know so far is he is fragrance-free, gorgeous, kind, thoughtful, respectful, employed. Too good to be true? I bet he's married or a serial killer. Too soon to tell. Crossing my fingers.

What I find interesting is I've spoken or corresponded with dates-of-the-past since becoming chemically sensitive and I've had a few say, "I wear cologne! I always have! Even when we were dating!" I have no recollection of cologne and it definitely didn't bother me at the time. Dating was so much easier then!

*Names are changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

The Perfect Friend: Be a Bunny

Why Peter is the perfect friend:

He doesn't wear perfume so he won't walk right into my house and wonder with a stupid look on his face why I'm choking.

He doesn't whine, You don't like my perfume! and refuse to talk to me.

He doesn't wear make-up nor does he feel self-conscious about it. He knows I appreciate his fresh face and natural look.

He doesn't poof his fur with hair mousse , hair gel, or hair spray. He does think he might look devilishly handsome that way, but he still doesn't do it.

He doesn't even go to a beauty parlor.

He doesn't wash anything in smelly laundry detergent and fabric softeners.

He doesn't wash himself with smelly soap or shampoo.

Washing His Face

He doesn't come to my door and ask me to smell his stinky body to see if it bothers me.

He wouldn't get pissy if I told him he DID stink.

I don't have to tell him not to stink every time we plan to do something because he has a good memory. I'm important enough in his life to want to remember.

He doesn't smoke cigarettes.

His friends or roommates don't stink or smoke either, so their smell isn't on him.

Sun Bathing

He doesn't tell me I'm faking it.

He doesn't tell me I'm Looney Tunes. He does, however, enjoy Bugs Bunny.

He doesn't wear treated leather coats.

He doesn't smell our air space up with microwaved junk food.

He doesn't smell like the air fresheners in his car because he doesn't put air fresheners in his car. He doesn't even have a car. He's very environmentally conscientious.

If we have to go somewhere, he lets me drive.  Not only does he not like to drive, but he doesn't even like going for a ride.

Scratch Me, Please

He doesn't give me gifts saturated in stink and get offended when I start gagging. Rabbit manure doesn't smell and is really good for the garden.

He's not into movies, concerts, theater, traveling, shopping, parties so he's not going to brag nonstop about doing these fun things to someone who can't. He thinks it's a bit like bragging to someone in a wheelchair about the joys of walking.

He doesn't care about holidays so he likes spending them alone with me. Because he spends them with me he doesn't complain about family gatherings because he believes if you don't like your family then why in the hell are you subjecting yourself to so much drama?

Looking Guilty: "I'm Just Gardening!"

He likes being outdoors and especially likes gardening.

He doesn't annoy me even when he eats my favorite plants.

He's not a religious nut, so he doesn't tell me I'm chemically sensitive because I don't go to church. Nor does he tell me I'm going to hell.

He doesn't like dogs. Such stupid animals.

He doesn't eat chocolate, but he doesn't judge me if I do nor does he say, I told you so, if I eat it and get sick. He also doesn't brag about how chocolate doesn't bother him.

Cleaning His Weapons

He protects me from strangers with loud foot thumping.



He doesn't eat gluten. He doesn't eat cookies and pie in front of me. He likes carrots, beans and apples.

He never complains. If I'm late feeding him, he gives me the stink eye, but he still never complains.

He's quiet.


He's a good listener.

He's never told me I need to lose weight. Thanks, my sweet.

Waiting Patiently

He gets excited when he sees me.

What do you think are qualities that make a good friend?

All My Children

I just thought I'd show off my TODDLERS!

Tomato Toddlers
Grape tomatoes in gray planters, Roma in red.
Aren't they lovely?

Broccoli Toddlers
So healthy and beautiful.

Basil Babies
They aren't quite toddlers as they take longer. Delayed development.
They are forming their second leaves. I am so proud.

Redefining Friendship

friend \frend\ n  -s  1 a : one that seeks the society or welfare of another whom he [she] holds in affection, respect, or esteem or whose companionship and personality are pleasurable.

friend (frĕnd) n  -s 1. A person who one knows, likes, and trusts.

My father's definition of friendship: "Everyone is your best friend until they fuck you over." So eloquent. Thanks, dad.

Losing people I thought were my friends was probably the most difficult aspect of being chemically sensitive.  We always think true friendship can survive all kinds of trials and tribulations, through thick and thin, good and bad, ups and downs, in sickness and in health. Maybe I was confusing friendship with marriage?  Actually I've seen some ugly marriages and I always thought friendship was on a higher level.

After about a year of being chemically sensitive, all my friends disappeared.  Some moved away, but most refused to give up their perfumes. Their addiction was far more important than many years of friendship.  In some cases, I was a royal pain. Exposing chemically sensitive people to perfumes makes them feel lousy. When people feel lousy, they tend to have less patience and get bitchy. It was a vicious circle. Irritability being a symptom of chemical sensitivity only made matters worse. But aren't real friendships supposed to survive hell or high water? Why were my friends different? Don't they watch the same sitcoms and movies I do? The ones where friends stick by you no matter what?  It forced me to question the meaning of friendship.

In all cases, I became too difficult, too high maintenance.  I always thought being high maintenance was a joke describing a woman who expects people to cater to her every need while she wears too much make-up, big hair, and god-awful clothes . Oh, and very high heels that made it impossible for her to walk fast.

For someone with MCS, high maintenance means you aren't convenient, easy-going, and spontaneous. Instead, you might even be tired, worried, stressed-out, sick, apprehensive, cautious,  impatient, irritable, and reclusive. If you can't work, you might be poor, too. Or need help. Unfortunately, that makes you un-fun on too many levels or...high maintenance.

The Un-Fun Friend

Even the simplest encounters must be planned in detail. For instance, very recently I was asked to go to a movie. I stood there staring like a deer caught in headlights speed-listing in my head all the problems with this normally mundane suggestion:

Where is the theater?

Does it involve driving long distance?

In a smelly car?

Does the car have air fresheners in it?

Does the car stink in general?

Will my friend mind if I drive?

Does my friend use stinky soap?

Does my friend use smelly laundry detergent?

Does the theater pop smelly, fake popcorn?

Microwave stinky, fake nacho cheese?

Is the theater crowded?

Does my friend want to go at night or on the weekend when it will be crowded?

What will happen if I have to leave because it's too smelly?

Suppose I decide to go and suffer exposure?

Suppose the exposure makes me surprisingly bitchy?

Can I afford to be sick for the next week?

Would it be worth the sacrifice of health?

Will my friend get mad if we have to forfeit the cost of the movie ticket?

Will I need to find something else to do if my friend opts to stay?

Will my friend be angry if he/she ends up at the movie alone?

If I ask these questions will I seem too worried? Too paranoid? Too high maintenance?

Do I really want to ask all these questions?

Isn't it just easier if I say no and let my friend find someone less high maintenance?

This definitely isn't low maintenance! Usually it's easier to say, Hmmm, sorry, I've got plans/I gotta work/I don't like Tom Cruise rather than suffer the risk of someone thinking I'm too weird for company.

Friendships are no longer easy and the stress of even trying is often overwhelming. This has made me very leery of people. I second guess their intentions and their capability of being a friend. It takes a lot of stamina to be a friend to someone with MCS. Knowing this, I keep people at a distance because it is sometimes easier not to have friends than to be disappointed.

Most people don't understand chemically sensitivity which makes it worse. It feels like I am fighting with them all the time trying to get them to understand and that in itself is very exhausting and stressful. They forget and show up at my house with perfume on or ask me to smell them to see if their new shampoo will kill me. It's a catch-22. If I don't constantly remind them to be fragrance-free, they'll forget, but if I do remind them, they're going to get tired of me being so damn high maintenance.

In addition, I get really excited when I meet a new, potential friend but the impending disappointment looms over me like a big, black cloud.  When will they decide I'm too difficult? I walk on egg shells for fear I'll be too much trouble and I expect like everyone else, they will decide I am.  I watch what I say because in my life of isolation I wonder if I've lost my social skills or if I might appear too desperate for companionship. The whole process is a pain in the ass and makes me want to stay home with my rabbit. He rarely gives me grief and likes me just the way I am. He is the perfect friend.

Before I wrote this post I looked up the word friend in the dictionary, because truthfully, I wasn't sure what it meant and I was hoping a definition would give me guidance. This is entry number seven from Webster's Third New International Dictionary:  

friend \'frend\ n -s 7 : a troublesome acquaintance : one causing or likely to cause annoyance.

I was wrong. I've got loads of friends!