A few things have piled up and made me feel angry about the invasion of my health boundaries. I need to move to Health Conscious Island, where people are super aware and caring and conscientious about the products they use.
Last week, the manager of the apartment building across the alley from me painted it with some noxious substance that left me asthmatic in my own home, even with the windows shut. Plus the paint dust got all over my car, and despite a car wash and hiring someone to painstakingly clean out the inside and outside of my car after that wash (all to the tune of $50), I’m still getting an asthma trigger every time I drive. The toxic particles must be embedded.
Then there was the guy who started spraying chemical crap all over the conveyor belt at the local supermarket tonight. I was one aisle over, so although I thought it was uncool that he was spraying like that, I didn’t anticipate it would affect me. Until I felt rain-like substance landing gently on my face. You know, near my eyes. Which sent me into a total panic.
Fortunately, thanks to the general practitioner who dumped a cup of liquid nitrogen between my legs while doing a routine wart removal, and as a result of the nearly three years of eye problems since then, I do not leave the house without a bottle of tears at my disposal. But when I pulled the bottle from my pocket tonight, I paused. Which was worse: Getting my germ-infested hands on my eye lids, while holding them back for the tears, or not flushing out the chemical crap?
Now I’m sitting here, asthmatic and feeling discomfort in my left eye. As my Eastern European peeps would say: Oy.