4 Disability Assistive Devices I need to Survive

My top 4 Assistive Devices for Mould Illness (CIRS) and Medical Conditions with Chemical Sensitivity as a Symptom!

(Note this page has a formatting issue that has removed my paragraph breaks so it’s in the naughty chair until I can fix it! This always happens when I embed Instagram posts. If you have a solution or know why this happens please leave a comment below or call me.)

Anybody who thinks that people who have medical conditions where their health is impacted on via chemical-irritants are living in the wrong era have it mixed up: living with modern technology makes our lives easier. The mythology that exists that we just can’t cope with the modern world and chemicals—which lets face it are everywhere and in everything—is exactly that: a myth. H20 is a chemical. We need chemicals, we need electricity for our assertive devices and we need devices that can make life living with a chronic illness, disease or other medical condition a whole lot easier. If someone has environmental illness it doesn’t mean they belong in the 1900s’ with all natural pure stuff, in a hut living a paleo lifestyle. No, it means that we need chemical-based extensibly helpful assistive devices like Air Purifiers, Face masks, Oxygen masks and tanks and, my personal favourite: a dehumidifier! Here is a listicle of my top 4!:

My Oxygen Tanks from BOC Gases

These make such a difference to my life that I cannot imagine living without them—until I get better and don’t need them, that is. I use 1 large tank and 1 medium size tank approximately every ten days. At the moment my carer pays for them, but will be applying for Government assistance soon. The biggest difference they make are when it’s smokey outside yet the smoke makes it’s way inside and into my lungs. For the last 14 years I’ve suffered upper respiratory symptoms from inhalation of woodsmoke coming from neighbours’ chimneys. Luckily for me, I live in a holiday area so it’s only terribly bad on the weekends when the terrorists holiday makers come up.

They’re also useful for when someone nearby runs diesel trucks, mows the lawn using old lawnmowers that spew out two-stroke fuel, or run their boat motors after a day of fishing while they clean it; petrochemicals knock me out for the rest of the day at the moment.

The oxygen therapy was prescribed by my doctor to be used 2 times a day for 20 minutes and also for 20 minutes after an exposure to chemical-irritants and natural substances that cause pain, long-lasting symptoms and further sensitisation—as is the case with mould exposure. Actually, I’ve been using oxygen whenever I write and also while on the phone and sometimes even while making a video because the oxygen allows my brain to work as normal. The last 6 months have seen a huge decline in cognitive skills, short-term memory and emotional regulation in times of chemical exposure. Stress just makes it ten-fold, and the anticipation of all of these can cause anxiety, which I’ve not experienced before at such a high level. 

Oxygen therapy has helped this CIRS symptom the most: It’s like feeling completely lost in an unfamiliar place even though you know you are somewhere where you’ve been a 1000 times before. If this place is on a freeway, it’s terribly frightening.

  xxxI can empathise greatly with those who suffer Alzheimers with dementia symptoms, which, over a 6 week period, is what I thought was happening to me before I saw Dr Mark Donohoe and had the Neuroquant MRI, which allowed the diagnosis of CIRS (Mould Illness) to come about so quickly. Hence being put on oxygen. (It’s also useful for doing yoga deep breathing exercises.

On some days, I can get through a 40-45 minute session of yoga with Banana Blondie 108 She has some wonderful chest opening exercises in her ‘Heart Chakra’ Yoga series. And for $10 US a month, it’s great value. You can find these classes at Thriving Plant Based There is free yoga available also. I have a post coming up on the value of the Chakra series with my lovely, gifted virtual yoga teacher!)


My AusClimate Dehumidifier

I’ve blogged before about my AusClimate dehumidifier in the post titled, This One Sure Thing: My AusClimate Dehumidifier, however, even more so than my next device, an air-filter/purifier, due to the breathing issues I have with indoor and outdoor moulds, keeping the relative humidity low is a must for comfortable breathing. There is no point having oxygen to plug into my airways if the air is full of outdoor moulds; or moulds from the water damaged ceiling in the room sealed off from my main living area. When I moved in I was told by my real estate rentals manager that the ceiling had been fixed as it was something I was concerned about when I saw the tell tale water stains on the ceiling. I believed my estate agent, and I still do.

However, a year or so after moving in it began leaking after a terrible storm. The owners of the property and the estate agent sent out someone to replace the roof; but even before that happened I was on the forum of AESSRA asking about dehumidifiers. I didn’t like what I heard so I looked on the internet under the keywords ‘mould’, ‘dehumidifiers’ and ‘mould remediation’; and that was how I came to find AusClimate. Not only was I given excellent advice on how to use my machine, like:

  • running it for 3 whole days to remove all the water from the indoor environment;
  • keep the dust mite count down (the perfect food for mould!) by vacuuming regularly; and using micro cloths to pick up dust without spreading it;
  • advice on how to keep my home mould free (so long as the water leaks had been fixed—and, with the new roof the owners of the rental put over my head, they were, for the time being, until now with this new 3rd leak. Stain over stain on the old chipboard/particle board ceiling.
  • this machine has saved my lungs a huge amount of pain because not only has the roof leaked again (which I will be blogging about in another post where I compare the AusClimate dehumidifier to the Delonghi Dehumidifier, which I have running 24/7 in the water damaged room: it’s that inefficient. And my ERMI results.) but I’ve had to put up with even more damp air
  • at least I have my AusClimate 35 litre machine to keep my living space dry, therefore, hopefully, no mould can grow on my possessions? I don’t know. If you have the answer to this, please leave it in the comments below…

But whenever it rains outside, I whack on the dehumidifier! This stops my lower lungs from hurting from the dampness in the air if I didn’t have it running. (I don’t know why my lower lungs hurt when I breathe in damp, cold or smokey air but my GP and Dr Donohoe are looking into it via an x-ray and Spirometry test, which I’m doing next week along with my tests for the Biotoxins and other bacteria shown up in my MRI.)

My living area is around 45 square metres, making up the lounge, dining room and kitchen (that’s where my bedroom, office, gym and dining area are). I never run it for longer than 5-6 hours at a time; however, once a month I run it for a whole day or night when I am out of the house. It’s so powerful that if I leave it on for too long, I can feel my eyes start to dry out, which is just a sign to turn it off. It’s winter here in Melbourne and not only do I need to suck up the cold damp air with the Dehumidifiers, I need to dry my washing inside because if I leave it outside in the rain, it gets mildewy and even worse, reeks of the chemical-irritants in woodsmoke. I have made a video about using this machine to dry my clothes, which you can watch below. 

(If you cannot watch it, basically it just shows how I hang my clothing and cleaning cloths (dusters) on a large portable clothes hanger overnight with the AusClimate running. By morning my clothing is clean, fresh and dry ready to be put away.)

xxx I’ve also made a video on how I clean it once a month. Ergo, I intend to make a video on how we clean the whole unit, fully, once or twice a year. I have heard stories of other units going mouldy—I mean they do suck up water and dust—so do need to be maintained just like any other household device. Watch the video below, and then we shall move onto clean air!

[insert video 2: How to thoroughly clean your Dehumidifier]
[Insert Video 3 on how to stop would smoke coming inside while taking a shower]

My 3M Filter Mask and Cotton Scarf

I’ve blogged about it and made a video about how useful the 3M mask has been to me over the years. 14 to be exact! Although, it used to give me a lot of freedom, it’s not longer useful unless it’s for fleeting exposures like going to the letterbox or stepping outside for a bit. When I go out I now use it with the oxygen nasal tubes underneath and it works like a charm. Amazingly so. I buy my masks from AESSRA (The Allergy and Environmental Sensitivity, Support and Research Association)


My InovaAir Purifier (Air Filter)

In 2004 I rented an Austin Air purifier to see if it worked for me. I had it two weeks and realised I needed one; therefore, I took out a small bank loan, immediately buying one. The InovaAir Purifier is almost the same design just more modern and sleek looking. It’s on wheels so can me moved about; has the reputation of cleaning the air of a small to decent size room within 15-20 minutes so long as its clean to begin with. For example: your house has clean air in it after airing it throughout a fresh sunny day, evening comes and you forget to close up the house, allowing woodsmoke from a neighbour’s backyard fire pit or woodfire chimney to get inside your house. The air is no longer comfortable to breathe on a physical level, naturally, you close up your house, turning on your InnovaAir or Austin Air Purifier onto high. Within 15 minutes your room is back to being clean again. This may not take away the inflammation or headache or asthma caused but it will stop any more smoke from impacting on your health.

(There are some other tips and tricks I have ready in another draft post that I’ll try and post before winter rudely sets in but for now, know that I go through a lot of painters’ masking tape (it’s less sticky and doesn’t pull paintwork off) and cotton wool blocking up holes where drafts pull the chimney smoke in.)

Where I get my Oxygen from: BOC Homecare (via prescription)

Where I bought my AusClimate Dehumidifier from: AusClimate online

Where I but my 3M Masks: AESSRA

Where I bought my InovaAir Purifier from: InovaAir online

Information on woodsmoke, rules for chimneys and Parliament Enquiries into the use of them: http://woodsmoke.3sc.net

Lung Association and Woodsmoke: Air Quality and Woodsmoke: http://lungfoundation.com.au/lung-health/air-quality-and-woodsmoke/

(image art by Michellina van Loder and Pixabay)

Michellina Van Loder is a Professional Writer, Journalist and Blogger. This is where she shares her tales about trail blazing her way out of the Labyrinth of Chemical Sensitivities and Mould. This is also where you will find the latest Research on related topics.

What it’s Like to Wear a Mask, Part II (9.2 years later)

There are some people who need to wear a mask over their face to help them try to avoid symptoms bought on by breathing in allergens they are allergic to. There are other people who do the same because they have become sensitised to some/or all of the chemical ingredients in fragrances. And, more controversially so, there are people who wear one because they have become chemically injured in someway, and need to do this when they are around nearly every chemical and allergen known to humankind: these people lead lives so isolated from the rest of us, most of us could barely imagine what that could be like. I fall somewhere in the middle of those categories, and need to wear a mask most places I go.

This type of photo is called a 'Melfy': picture one takes of self wearing a mask :)

This type of photo is called a ‘Melfie’: picture one takes of self wearing a mask :)

At this point in time, I can handle low-level exposures for short periods of time. This could mean sitting, sans mask, in a room with people who are fragrance free but are still emitting fragrance chemicals from their washing powder, soap and shampoo type products. For me, low level means that there are no aerosol type products emitting chemicals, leeching out into the common airspace, knocking my health for six.

As opposed to a low-level exposure, a high-level exposure would mean going into an area where there are vast amounts of chemical based products for sale, where people are milling about wearing fragrance chemicals that they spritzed on before going out. (An area where people are ‘testing’ saleable fragrance products would be an absolute no go area. Ever. I don’t care what they are selling, I don’t want it!) It’s the solvents used to ‘carry and disperse’ the chemicals that make me so ill. I’ve been medically tested, know this for a fact, and have documentation to prove it. In these high-level situations (which I try to avoid, using said documentation), I wear a mask; and I get in and out, quickly. However, this has lead to finding myself is some questionable situations. Let me explain:

First though, in an article I wrote for AESSRA’s Sensitivity Matters, nearly a decade ago, I wrote about how wearing a mask empowered me to partake in life, to get things done. I urged other people who were finding their access blocked to try it, also. We all need to be able access buildings and services. Just to get out sometimes. Do the shopping. Visit a child’s school. And, I encouraged people not to be so damn shy about it. It’s just a mask, for goodness sake! An item that can be worn so that ‘disability’ can turn into ‘ability’.

10 years on, this is what it’s like now…

But before we get to that, I’m going to share with you some of the experiences I’ve had while wearing this mask out in public:

Once I had a man/child of around 18, or so, yell out: “Hey lady? Do you have SARS?” In the middle of a shopping mall, of all places?! I’m sure the question was rhetorical because he didn’t wait for an answer, just walked off, raucously laughing along with the rest of his pack, dressed in the grey attire of the local Rosebud Secondary College’s uniform; leaving me embarrassed, and my nine year old asking, “Mum, what’s SARS?” Her eyes widening in that bizarre-frog-like way, alerting me to the fact that she was freaking out and about to lose her shit. “MUM! Have you got SARS?” This was way back when, in the early days of running errands while wearing a mask, I was mortifyingly shy about the whole thing. Seriously, it felt as though everyone was looking at me.

Darth Vadar Dog

Don’t you dare laugh at me!

Click here to get Images &
Darth Vadar Dog PicturesPictures

Three years after that incident, once I became blasé about the whole I-wear-this-3M-mask-over-my-face-to-protect-my-upper-respiratory-system-from-aromatic-solvents-and-petrochemicals-that-you-other-shoppers-have-spritzed-on-before-leaving-the-house-and-it’s-just-an-everyday-occurrence-for-me cautiousness, that is my life, I received this (while in the same shopping centre, from a different man/child, wearing the exact same school’s grey uniform): “May the force be with you,” he said while, proudly, crossing his fisted forearm across his chest. (For those who don’t know this fact, it’s a reference to the Star Wars movie characters, one of which, was the evil Darth Vader, whose whole face just happened to be a mask. (I didn’t know this, it had to be explained to me.)) Still, I had to laugh! Which made him just crack up laughing; and in turn, I cracked up some more. My daughter, by then thirteen—at that age of being on Permanent Parental Mortification Alert—laughed too. It was a shared joke. Sure, I was the arse end; yet, for some reason, it became the highlight of that week’s Thursday evening shopping trip! It’s been a favourite family story, often shared with friends who also wear masks—albeit more shyly than me—and here, in the telling of it we laugh even more. It’s a relief to be able to take something that weighs uncomfortable and heavy like only an impediment that embarrasses you can, and make it as light and joyous as laughter between friends.

Other comments I’ve received during the early years: “Pollen’s bad today, isn’t it?” Not such a bad thing to hear a stranger say. I’ll often hear that inside the Greengrocers from an elderly person, whereby I reply that it’s actually fragrances and deodorants that are dispersed out of spray-cans and bottles that are bad today. (And if they back away real quick, I know they are wearing it; and I’ll be grateful because less of the fragrance’s aromatic-solvent-hydrocarbon dispersed molecules will adhere to my hair, skin and clothes.)  So, yes, “Pollen’s bad today!” is not such an awful thing to hear at all. That is, until I go to answer and realise the person (usually in a group with others) who said this is actually being sarcastic. It’s obvious because the comment is often followed up with a pretend sneeze, and cursory juvenile giggles. And then, stupidly, I realise, that once again, behind my mask, I’m just a point of ridicule.

Then there is the group of people who bond by all starting to cough loudly; they then bond further by laughing even louder. I understand what they are doing, and possibly why (they think I have the flu?), but I still don’t get it…

Now, as I’ve discussed with friends, I know that shopping is a social activity for some, and obviously their mothers didn’t teach them not to yell out inane (I’m-just-joking) rhetorical questions to complete strangers; but still, it can be difficult to accept this kind of behaviour. This non-acceptance has led me to do some shameful things. Like this one time when I had PMT, and I was riding up an escalator, along with my own, by then, 14 year-old daughter. In front of us, two teenage girls, turned around, looking back at us, and while one clasped her arm around her stomach collapsing into it in a fit of giggles, the other pronounced in an obnoxiously loud tone, “Oh, my god. You’re right, look at her—she is wearing a mask!” Followed by, “Oh my God, I can’t believe someone would actually go out like that.”

By expressing their teenage mortification, it became contagious in the way that only teenage mortification can: My daughter looked down at her runners as crimson shades crept up her cheeks. (We’d planned to get in, get out. Inconspicuous. Change our fragrance-contaminated clothes in the car. The usual routine.) But it’s what happened next that really freaked us both out:

Now, hear me out. Please—I’m not to be held responsible for what happened next. Really! It just wasn’t my day.  Or, perhaps, my usual calm-I-couldn’t-give-a-cat’s-toss-on-a-Sunday-afternoon/just-let-me-get-on-with-my-shopping demeanour had been hijacked by the PMT dire wolves. Without evaluating my decision, I took off up the escalator after them, stopping on the last step right behind them. Suspended in the tension of the moment. We all froze. I took another step, and balanced right on the edge of the same tiny step they were on; holding onto the bannister for support, I teetered. They took one more step. Perhaps, they thought I wanted to get past them, but when I too, took that same step, leaning in closer to them, just breathing hard through the mask, they looked frightened. Perhaps, my face had gone red, or purple even; perhaps my veins were bulging out on the sides of my forehead (It certainly gets hot behind that damn mask; and then there’s the lack of oxygen to contend with, too.), but however I looked, standing there, my mask-clad face two inches from theirs, I just stood there, staring my enragement at them. Well, they took off, running at a fast speed through the mall, and I was left feeling quite silly—a little crazy too—yet also, oddly, vilified…

But then my daughter’s voice entered into this weird vortex: “Mum, what are you doing?” And listening to myself explaining that I’ve just had enough of people making fun of me, do you know how I felt? I felt like a bully. And I felt embarrassed. (More embarrassed than wearing a mask out in public has ever made me feel.) There I was, a woman of 38, the mother of a child, for whom I wanted to set the best example for. A woman who usually had her wits about her, was literally standing over two girls, who yes, should’ve known better than to make fun of a, unbeknownst to them, legally disabled person, but didn’t, and now had to bear the brunt of a silent, angry, masked stranger deliberately trying to scare them.

Now, I know this does not help bring about positive awareness of our condition for people like us (Don’t worry, this wasn’t during Multiple Chemical Sensitivity Awareness Week.), but it sure made me feel better in a way that only bullying back, after being bullied can. And that is something to be ashamed of. Worse though, going into big shopping complexes changed for me after that: always feeling on the defence, waiting, expecting people to say stupid things. Always ready to be made fun of, teased, ridiculed or used for entertainment purposes. (*No payment necessary, thanks for the offer though*.)

However, I refuse to be ashamed of wearing a mask. Because it’s either that, or stay home. (And don’t even get me started on the fact that I’d like to put some make-up on my face. There’s no point, it would just get smeared on the inside of the mask, which is funny when you think about it. Well, there’s always the obsession with penciling my eyebrows; but, hey, that’s a whole other post…) And just because I’m wearing a mask doesn’t mean I won’t get sick; there’s always risks involved: Like the time Target parked a display trolly of Linx deodorant right next to the women’s change rooms. After someone tested an awful lot of it, I was ill for days afterwards (Luckily, my daughter alerted me and we were able to get out, but not quick enough: it was all over me.). So, no, it’s not a sure way to protect my immune system; but without it, that sickness that lasts for days, incapacitating me, would happen every single time I go out. The mask is a good thing; and I’m thankful for it.

Besides, being ashamed of wearing a mask to protect my health is just plain silly. And I’d just like to get on with my life, please. Because, actually, sometimes I’d rather scream from the feeling of forced imprisonment. Right there in the middle of the shopping centre! For, not only has breathing become uncomfortable, in that my chest feels tight, but with each new onslaught of airborne fragrance chemicals, my sinuses ache, and inhaling air through my nose feels like two chopsticks poking a headache up through my nostrils and pounding it into the spot behind my eyes. And not only do I feel unable to express my facial expressions (The reverse of not being able to read them: some people with Autism have this!), I also feel this weird kind of separateness, cut off from other humans, in a way. However, it’s not the physical pain nor the lack of being able to make facial expressions that makes me want to wail in public. No, it’s the person pointing and laughing at me, over near the newsagents, or the women standing in line at the butchers. Or the one pushing her trolley who comments loudly to the man with her, “Oh [insert man’s name], look at that poor/bloody/sick/freakish woman”, while pointing right at me, unaware that her choice to wear chemical-based perfume is the reason I’m wearing the mask in the first place. (You may think that I’m being classist to say this: I’ve found some suburbs are worse for being teased in than others; and the bigger the shopping complex, the more likely I am to be made fun of. Suburbs populated with Asians, much less so. Groups of middle class caucasion-kids? Loud couples? Groups of man-children? Oh, don’t get me started. (Must I go in? Please, can’t I put it off until tomorrow instead?))

Kudos to the child in the checkout line who says loudly: “Lady, why are you wearing that?” To which I say: “Perfumes make me very sick, so I  wear it so I get to come in and do my shopping.” To this, the child always nods. (They get it.) Or the littler ones who just stare. And stare. Always, I put my hands over my face/mask and do the peek-a-boo thing. They love it! And then there are the ones a tad older, still innocent enough not to tease an adult, who say: “Mummy? Why is that woman wearing that?” The mother tries to quiet them; they are embarrassed; it’s easy to empathise with them. I speak up and say: “It’s okay, I just wear it because I have severe allergies to fragrances.” Everyone is happy with this.

But for the rest? Near on a decade,  I’ve had to put up with this blind ignorance. It’s to the point that when I see a group of teenagers coming towards us, I brace myself ready for the onslaught of ridicule.

The Darth Vador incident that was so funny years ago, seems like it happened to someone else, far away from me—in another galaxy, perhaps?

Sometimes, it feels as if the anxiety level inside me is buzzing out of control; yet most times as I go on with the reasons for coming to the shops, I don’t even notice. It’s like I can set my vision on the direction I’m going, and exactly what it is I want, and that, thankfully, is all I see. (Losing your temper on a public escalator can do that to you. It’s like cement in your coffee: it causes you to harden the fuck up!)

Then there was the time I was shopping with my teenage daughter at one of those Westfield complexes that sell just about everything. We’d just come out of the Australian Geographic store, after purchasing binoculars for her up-and-coming school camp (hot and flustered under my mask) there were still two more shops to visit before we could get out of the building. A group of around nine people or so, early twenties maybe younger, stood talking loudly. One well-dressed male adult took hold of a younger punk-ish looking boy by the shoulders, and as he pushed him into my path, he said, “Go and kiss this freak instead! Stay away from my girl.” The young boy looked at me, then down at the ground. Colour stained his cheeks. As, I’m sure it did mine, too. This time I didn’t need to explain it to my daughter: she was in secondary college and understood all about bullying.

But do you know what the final thing was that has made wearing a mask out in public a nightmare? The day we went into the same shopping centre and came across a group of people we knew quite well, for years, way before I even developed this immune disorder. Out of common decency and respect, I won’t go into many details, except to say, one person actually held their hand up so they could hide their face behind it. That’s what did it for me. The anxiety of going into a massive shopping complex, where all the ‘cool’ people dressed in ‘high fashion’ wearing ‘Armani’ hang out and judge other people who they feel are less than them is something I avoid, totally.

Embarrassment can be catchy like that.

So, in answer to ‘What it’s like to wear a mask (9.2 years later)’: it’s different. Some people in Australia need to wizen up. It’s just not cool to do this to us. And yelling out of the car window when you see me behind the wheel? That’s got to stop, too. I know for a fact this also happens to overweight people, especially women (I was surprised when I read this); people who have physical impediments; and, we all know it still happens in a racial context, also. Not everyone can be Lara Bingle, have a thigh gap, a bikini bridge, nor can they fit impossible one-size-fits-all physical standards. Yet, it doesn’t need to be like this. So yeh, most times, wearing a mask kinda sucks. But here’s the thing: Today it was like this: I walked into a greengrocers in Ocean Grove, and the man working there said, “Nice dress.” And I said, “Thanks.” And then I realised that I was also wearing a mask over my face. (Thank you, kind stranger.) I felt on top of the world, mask and all.

:)

It's a normal day, isn't it?

Nice dress, hey?

If you wear a mask when going out (or there’s something else that makes some people feel like they have the complete and utter right to say and do dumb shit, shit they should be embarrassed about), May the Force Be With You!

(A FYI: I may have been chemically injured (I had an accident with swimming pool chlorine); however, it’s not clear what, and why this happened. I’ve been tested by doctors—immunologists and allergists—and have had allergic-like reactions to many chemicals; and I’ve definitely become sensitised—to multiple ingredients in fragrances. My specialist says they act as irritants to my airways. Until the age of 33, I used perfumes, obsessively: I loved them: their heavenly scents; their beautiful aromas and the way they made me feel, pretty; I loved their classy designer names; their lovely glass bottles; but most of all, I loved the beauty associated with wearing them. It’s been nine years since I’ve had to wear a mask around some chemicals, and all fragrances. I’m lucky though, there are many natural scents, I’m okay with, and, gratefully, I don’t have to live my life in complete utter isolation.)

(Another FYI, I’m not a hippie, when doctors recommend that I vaccinate myself and my children, I let them (oh, our animals get vaccinated too), I’d like to use chemicals, and sometimes I’m able to: I want to colour my hair, and sometimes do. I want to paint my toenails but the symptoms bought on by solvents have persuaded me not to.  There are some serious chemicals, I’d seriously like to use; but alas, serious avoidance of chemicals that I’m seriously sensitive to is the key to avoiding serious sickness.)

Michellina Van Loder is a Professional Writer, Journalist and Blogger. This is where she shares her tales about trail blazing her way out of the Labyrinth of Chemical Sensitivities and Mould. This is also where you will find the latest Research on related topics.

Maskology: The Study of People Wearing Masks

Today, I’m excited to launch our very own MCS Labyrinth Pinterest Account: a collection of boards with images linking to all the diamonds and gems out there relating to sensitivities to chemicals, including support groups and organisations – sourced world-wide; gorgeous people wearing masks; and many more… (If you’re not familiar with it – Pinterest is a way for you to organise and share the great things you find on the internet. It’s also a great way to discover great things that others are sharing. If you don’t yet have an account – you can get one here, just click the ‘Join Pinterest’ button at the top of the page.)

To celebrate, here is the first screen capture of many: People Wearing Masks. So many are beautiful; some have a feminist type quality about them – think Eva Cabelle; a lot of these people have Multiple Chemical Sensitivity (MCS), Environmental Illness (EI), Toxic Induced Loss of Tolerance (TILT), or just plain chemical sensitivities. There are some artistic-just-mucking-around type shots of people wearing masks. Or serious looking people wearing serious looking gas-masks. And then there are the children… But whether the people are wearing masks to protect the health of their airways, or as a symbolic display of something else, they all have that one thing in common.

Welcome to Maskology – a study of masks.

Enjoy!

When you see this many people wearing masks, it normalises it!

If there is an image you think we’ve missed, drop a link to it in the comments below, and it too, can go up on The Labyrinth’s People Wearing Masks Pinterest Board.

Happy Pinning!

 

Michellina Van Loder is a Professional Writer, Journalist and Blogger. This is where she shares her tales about trail blazing her way out of the Labyrinth of Chemical Sensitivities and Mould. This is also where you will find the latest Research on related topics.

Information, products and views presented by guest bloggers @The Labyrinth are not necessarily the same as those held by this blog's author, Michellina van Loder. Reviews are my own personal opinions (unless stated otherwise); and satire is used throughout personal posts. Any health topics discussed are not to be taken as medical advice. Seek out medical attention if needed and do your own research; however, you're welcome to use mine as a start.
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