Sarah T.’s Story

I was 30 and working in marketing when a coworker started wearing a new perfume. Within a week I was getting headaches every afternoon. Within a month I couldn’t think straight at my desk. I asked HR to move me but they said I was being dramatic. By the end of that year I couldn’t walk into a grocery store without my throat closing. I lost my job, then my apartment because the neighbors used scented laundry products and I couldn’t breathe in my own bedroom. It took three years and seven doctors before someone said the words ‘chemical sensitivity’ to me. By then I’d lost my career, most of my friends, and my marriage.

I’ve moved four times in six years. Every apartment has something — the neighbor’s dryer vent, the hallway cleaning products, off-gassing from renovations. I finally found a small house in a rural area with no close neighbors. I sealed the HVAC, put in standalone air purifiers in every room, and I can survive here. But I can’t have anyone over unless they come fragrance-free, and most people don’t understand what that really means.

Seven doctors. The first told me it was anxiety. The second said hormones. The third ran every blood test and said I was fine. The fourth prescribed antidepressants. The fifth said ‘some people are just sensitive’ like it was a personality flaw. The sixth was an allergist who tested me for everything and found nothing because MCS doesn’t show up on allergy tests. The seventh was an environmental medicine doctor who finally diagnosed me. She was the first person in a white coat who didn’t look at me like I was making it up.