Clean Air

I was once a person who didn’t know she had to replace her HVAC filter once every few months. I went for over a year without a filter change, with a dog, a cat, and two chinchillas in my household and a ton of hay around. Needless to say, the air quality in the house was horrible, and I never understood why.

I had a friend who struggled with asthma, and he kept insisting on wearing a mask at my home because of the poor air quality. I was waking up with allergic reactions over and over (I am severely allergic to dust), and one day I made a commitment to get to the root of it all.

Step #1 was to find out that my HVAC had a filter that needs replacing every couple of months, especially given my household.

Step #2 was to get disgusted at the state of my then-filter.

I had money then, and I wasn’t medically fragile yet, so I could quickly replace the filter and get a couple of indoor air purifiers: one for the room with the hay, and another for the room where I live.

Cut to the present, where I am very medically fragile and cannot afford anything for myself, and I struggle significantly with air quality.

My body already works very hard to keep me alive, so fighting against respiratory irritants takes everything I have. I genuinely end up unable to breathe or move.

I had been a bit behind on replacing the filters on my HVAC and my air purifiers, and the worst thing to do for your breathing is to keep forcing air through dirty filters. I had been taking Zyrtec for the allergic reactions I kept waking up with, and I was in horrible distress. And I ran out of KN95 masks to protect myself. (I can’t breathe with them, but it is better than harmful air.)

I was so confident that I would get my disability income soon and be able to afford filters again. I didn’t want to ask anyone for help. I could just hold on a little more.

Then, on September 16, I had a doctor’s appointment, and she sounded extremely concerned about how I was doing. That was when I realized what I was putting myself through.

I am starting to realize more and more that I speak about how one struggles to see harm when they’re inside it, and it seems to apply to pain, distress, and suffering too. I have normalized the amount of distress I am in at any point in the day because it is just my baseline.

I remember a nurse at the residential treatment center hearing from my roommate that I was screaming and having nightmares all night and never sleeping. She said, “I am sorry, have you ever gotten good sleep?”

I responded, “Oh, it’s just how I sleep. I am used to trauma nightmares.”

She told me, “It is not okay. Don’t be used to suffering. You deserve better.”

I am in tears writing that. I fought so hard and set such difficult boundaries to finally build safety, and I think I got used to the distress as my baseline because I am always in pain, always in distress.

I even had horrible bleeding for weeks and forgot to bring it up to my doctor until the last minute of our appointment, because she asked about periods. I was not supposed to bleed. She got extremely concerned because of my history with iron deficiency and pain.

Here I was, listening to her change in tone and realizing how terrifying it is to hear it from the outside, when to me it is just a regular Wednesday.

I texted three members of my village for help to restore the air quality in my house. I updated my essentials Amazon list and asked for help. I barely had capacity to look at a screen or say a word. I pulled myself to do that one thing because my body and I deserved clean air.

I deserve to not be in distress. Not accept distress as my baseline. Not normalize it as “just another day.”

I might be living with significant medical fragility and complex chronic illnesses. That doesn’t mean I accept living with constant pain, suffering, and distress.

I deserve to ask, even when I can’t do it well, even when all I can do is ask.

So I asked. I got help. I just got the replacement filters delivered today. I am even running the purifiers for a few hours so the current air is cycled through clean filters.

I might have clean air in a few hours. Can you believe that?

I might actually be able to breathe without being in distress.

Holding on through suffering is not okay. I deserved better than that. My body deserved better than that.

I might never get to a perfect day. I am not trying to, either. I am here building a life of safety and sustainability. A life with less pain, suffering, and distress.

I got to safety from external harm. I am now stepping toward the surgeries I kept pushing off because I already had so much to deal with. I think I am realizing I deserve to give myself a chance at a life with less pain, suffering, and distress. A life where my body doesn’t have to fight through things that can be addressed. It won’t be easy. It never was going to be.

I guess I choose myself and keep choosing me, and this time, I am aware of what I am normalizing as my baseline that can be addressed.

I am incredibly grateful to have a village that shows up. I can breathe!