Litmus Test for Quality

A co-worker of mine who has a daughter with eczema/allergies like mine often refers to me as a “litmus test for quality.” She is incredibly encouraging and will say things like “you’re not too sensitive, you are not weird, you are a test for true quality in this world. If you react to something, it is because that thing is impure, there is nothing wrong with you.” I have been repeating that to myself all day, and it helps.

Earlier today Isaac and I went to a furniture store to check out the sales. We spent some time in the mattress area relaxing on some of the memory foam and Tempurpedic mattresses. Those things are amaaazing. Now, I am sitting at home doped up on benadryl because I broke out in hives on my face, arms, and neck. Everywhere that touched the mattress. OF COURSE I broke out in hives from laying on a mattress that thousands of other people have laid on. People that were probably covered in cat hair, dog hair, pollen, dust, and maybe someone who had just eaten a shrimp omelet gave the mattress a good licking.

It’s incredibly frustrating. My brain instantly flooded with the “poor me” thoughts while in the shower, trying to get my welted skin to calm down. How quickly I can fall back into my old thought patterns: self-pity and helplessness when my allergies react to something unusual.

Really though, it’s not a big deal. I AM a litmus test for quality. Through my skin it is confirmed that those tester mattresses at the store really ARE as dirty as you have always imagined. You can’t see the grime that covers them, but trust me, it is there.

A litmus test for quality. I like the positive spin on an otherwise frustrating situation.

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