Breathing Room

I am a social creature.  I love to wander through shopping malls to watch the people.  I crave human contact.  Ok, I don't like being touched by strangers, or even acquaintances, but I want to be out there among you, listening and watching.  Building characters for stories and books.  Where did you think I find the characters to people my stories?

Alas, I have a problem.  A big one. 

I am scent sensitive. 

I find most popular scents obnoxious to the point of stinging my eyes and nose, constricting my airway, sometimes bringing on a major headache. 

I'm not trying to say I don't like perfumes or colognes.  I do.  I love the smell of attar of roses, the musky hint of jasmine or magnolia.  Just not everywhere!

For some reason, scent has exploded. 

We freshen our rooms with plug-in air fresheners rather than just open a window.  We shampoo our hair with scented shampoos and conditioners, then add scented hair gel or spray.  Make-up is scented.  Even our clothing has detergent scents and dryer scents.  

So unless I go out in a full hazmat breathing mask - and believe me I have done it - I can't join humanity often. 

I shop at off hours, usually really early in the morning before the perfume wearers are even out of bed.  I can't go out for dinner, because even if I tell the restaurant about my sensitivity, invariably either my waitress or a fellow diner will be wearing a healthy dose of her/his favorite scent.  In eye-watering overdoses. 

Movie theaters are off-limits to me now.  As are post office kiosks, which, ever since Canada Post allowed to be housed in drug stores, are totally inaccessible to me.  Think about it.  Drug stores now display their all their scented products right by that In Door.  You realize they put the perfumes and colognes right there to garner extra sales, right?  How can you resist that heady bouquet, that redolent balm?  Somehow the odds of it going into your basket are best if you smell it coming into the store, when you can't resist impulse shopping.

Needless to say, I don't buy any of my prescriptions at a drug store.  I cannot get to the pharmacy counter to hand in my prescription, let alone stay around to have it filled.

Shopping for detergents, laundry, dish or hair, has become fraught with danger.  Yes, there are unscented products available.  Usually I find the few smack in the middle of an aisle of scented products.  Wouldn't you think markets would put those products on the aisle ends just for people like me?  Not a chance!  I have to take a really big breath of semi-scented air, hold my breath and scurry madly down the aisle, bend to the bottom shelf, grab my item and run back.  All before I run out of air. 

Do we really stink that much?  Are we so embarrassed by the essence of unadulterated human that we must always cover it up with artificial chemical elixirs?

Recently I had a pulmonary function test - I'm getting older and I had a cold that settled in my chest and wouldn't go away.  I arrived at my appointment at LDCI, a lung diagnostic center.  I entered, reading the many large signs forbidding scents, being hit with an overpowering scented atmosphere.  Not some patient's perfume.  Way stronger than that.  The manager (I found out later) had a plug-in air freshener to sweeten the office air.  

I filled out the questionnaire outside and waited for my appointment outside.  My technician escorted me through the sickening miasma into his office where he tried to test me.  I could barely breathe, let alone be examined for any lung functions.  We rescheduled and I escaped.  The very next day I started a complaint procedure.  I complained to anyone I thought might just be able to explain to the business that scent meant every type of scent, not just perfume.  I mean, really.  How can any private company touting themselves as a Lung Function Diagnostic Center, use any form of air fresheners?  Their patients have compromised breathing functions!  They don't need more abuse by air freshener contamination.

I've since been back, to a medicinal scented air, managed to take my lung function tests and escaped again, back to my country world, where the strongest smell I encounter is manure.  All natural and self-decomposing. 

But I will confess.


I too have a special French perfume.  I indulge in a fine spray when I want to feel especially exotic or sexy.  Never everyday.

Nor would I waste that expensive potion if it had to war with those 'never before smelled in nature' over-the-counter liquids consumers call perfume these days.  Why waste my money?  My essence wouldn't stand a chance against those cheap imitations whose alcohol-based pungency pollutes square meters rather than square centimeters.

 I know the world has changed greatly since I was a little girl.  I remember expensive perfumes used for dressup occasions.  Just a tiny dab or two for those special nights that only someone hugging you could enjoy.  I remember burying my nose in my mother's good coat, sniffing the faint bouquet that always held memories of special times: family gatherings, weddings and grand parties.

Can't we go back to using good old soap and water, vinegar for rinses, and cornstarch for powders?  All unscented believe it or not.  And they do the trick quite well.

Can't we save our pennies to buy oil-based distillates, using them sparingly so only our loved ones catch the whiff of good times? 

Just think how special we'd feel then!