Tag Archives: good things

Things That Make My Life Easier: Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab

[Image description: Four bottles of perfume in front of and resting upon some books; the bottles are labeled “Australian Copperhead,” “Banded Sea Snake,” “Cottonmouth,” and “Asp Viper,” respectively. Image courtesy of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab.]

Today, I am taking a page from amandaw’s awesome series “Things That Make My Life Easier” and have chosen to spotlight the fantastically scented goodness of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. As a person with chronic pain, I have found that certain things having to do with the five senses that take my mind off of my pain — even for a few minutes — makes dealing with pain and fatigue much, much easier. While I am unsure of the scientific veracity of perfume oils and their use in general life-improvement for folks with pain issues (in my case, fibromyalgia, which for me usually causes intense muscle pain and moderate to severe fatigue), I have personally benefited from wearing the complex and often surprising essential oil blends in which the Lab specializes. While smelling nice certainly won’t bring my physical pain down from, say, an 8 to a 1 (on a scale of 1 to 10), many of these blends have helped me to relax, focus on a different sort of physical sensation that is not abjectly, horrendously painful, and generally be more comfortable as I go about my day.

Besides a “General Catalogue” consisting of hundreds of scents—all inspired by a diverse mix of people (comic-book heroes and heroines; H.P. Lovecraft), places (the “Wanderlust” line, which offers scents inspired by famous locales) and things (love [image on page is NSFW], myth and fairy tales, classic art, religion and spirituality, and Alice in Wonderland, to name just a few)—BPAL also offers Limited Edition blends. Currently, they are offering their annual Fall/Halloween scents; if you’ve ever wanted to smell like an apple orchard, fall leaves and smoke, or Halloween candy, one (or more) of these oils may be for you.

It is next-to-impossible for me to pick favorite blends, as mine seem to change by the day. There are a few that I consistently utilize, however: Blood Kiss is a bizarrely dark blend of vanilla, clove and cherry that I’ve been wearing for years (I’m on my third bottle of the stuff). Absinthe is effervescent, minty and (obviously) boozy. When I want to smell sort of like a head shop sans the moldy undertone, a couple drops of Sin do the trick. Aquatic scents seem to be my most-used “category,” with the salty, swampy Bayou being the one that I reach for most often, tied with the Limited Edition Sturgeon Moon (the latter is no longer available, unfortunately). The smoky, slightly citrusy goodness of Carnaval Diabolique (part of a sprawling LE series of the same name) makes for a great late summer/early fall scent, as does the sharp, lavender-tinged Casanova.

Of course, the very fact that I wear essential oil perfumes brings up another issue — how to be sensitive and accommodating to fellow PWDs who may have scent sensitivities, allergies, or who may have otherwise painful reactions to scented stimuli. When I’m planning to be out and about, I tend to wear a drop or two at most, usually applied with a q-tip, and allow ample time for the oil to dry before I leave the house; this is not a perfect solution, but I am still figuring out how to balance the benefits that I personally get from wearing these amazingly-crafted oils with the needs of other PWDs whom I may encounter in public.

What a Lovely Surprise

I was recently reminded of the importance of noticing, appreciating, and celebrating “good disability moments” – those times when someone responds to me or treats me in a non-ableist way. This is more than the lack of discrimination or oppression, this is someone treating me as I want to be treated. Although these moments aren’t as routine as I would like them to be, they certainly come along, and I think it’s important to remind myself that not everyone will respond to my disability negatively or with fear or anger. Another side benefit is demonstrating how easy it is for people to act with compassion and caring on disability issues.

I read a post at Rolling Around that highlighted a recent “good moment”:

A Wheel-trans driver just came to pick up one of our members (a bit late, but understandable). While loading the member onto the bus, this driver took the opportunity to have a conversation with our member (she didn’t even realize that I was there). This member has a profound disability, he’s also blind and can’t answer back verbally. She spoke to him with kindness throughout the loading procedure, reassuring him he was going home, letting him know what she was doing and she was joking around with him. This driver has a huge heart and smile and made sure that no matter how stressed she was feeling due to traffic, she didn’t let that ruin someone else’s day. Too often people with disabilities are passed off and are not seen as “normal human beings” that have emotions and feelings. It’s a wonderful thing to see it when someone takes time out of their day to talk to members, be friendly, maintain professionalism and make someone smile with such a simple act of kindness.

I recently had a “good moment” of my own. I was at work, eating lunch with a few of my co-worker friends, people who know my disability status and whom I trust enough to feel comfortable discussing my disability issues. I mentioned how I had seen a lot of recent articles about lithium mining, spurred by the recent discovery of huge lithium deposits in Afghanistan, which prompted lots of articles analyzing lithium mining industries in Bolivia, and so on. I laughed that every time I see one of these articles, I have to consciously remind myself that the lithium they’re getting is to use in electronics and industry and that it isn’t being mined for pharmaceutical reasons. Partway through the story, I realized that one of my newer co-workers was sitting with us and remembered that I had not discussed my disability status with her, so continuing my story would basically be outing myself to her, but I was so far into it I couldn’t stop without also calling attention to my disability status. So I plunged ahead, saying that my reaction to those headlines is always to think “I don’t need that many pills! You all can stop mining the stuff now! I’m all set! Thanks!”

New co-worker laughed at the punchline and then the conversation moved on to other things. She didn’t stop the conversation to say, “wait, you’re on lithium? Isn’t that for crazy people?” or any other questions. She didn’t ask me what I take it for. She didn’t ask me anything, in fact, but continued to chat and laugh with me and the others with absolutely no change or shift at all. Since then, she’s continued to treat me exactly the same as before – griping about World Cup officiating, wondering if the A/C in our office will ever work reliably – and hasn’t mentioned or questioned my disability issues at all.

It is difficult to say how much this means to me. The ability to talk about myself, to share those jokes, without encountering negativity, curiosity, or even stares, made me feel like my disability did not set me apart from the group. That mentioning my medication in that context was equally mundane and non-notable as mentioning I have a cat, or drive a Honda, or don’t like beets. It was the feeling of acceptance. Of equality. And it was amazing.