The Wellness Bitch

There’s a lot of discussion and griping about how wellness is only for the wealthy.

That the poor are so desperate to feed their families, that they have no other choice than to buy cheap imitation grape drink and Dollar Store brand cheese doodles. That the poor don’t have the benefit of spending time in Barnes and Noble browsing through Michael Pollan books. That the poor are so tired from working two jobs that they can’t summon up the strength to do more than throw some canned franks and beans into a pot to warm.

I’d like to know how those people– those compassionate champions of the working poor — how do they explain it when middle class Americans…or even upper class americans with nannies and luxury cars …make those same choices? Because they do. I see it all the time.

I walk into a $1 million home to pick up my kid from a playdate and find him eating rainbow goldfish crackers.

I see nannies pushing overweight kids in stroller. And moms in designer shoes handing their two-year-olds mocha frappaccinos to sip on.

I’m not a cold-hearted bitch. But I don’t think eating or living well really takes much money, brains, or higher education. Clearly, if that’s all it took, we wouldn’t be seeing commercials for Abilify, alongside ones for Macy’s One Day Sale.

Hey. Come a little closer. I’m going to let you in on a little secret.

I’m not rich. I put on a good show with my nice house and leased mini-van. My kids in their hand-me-down Old Navy clothes. My mock designer hand bag from Target.

But we’re struggling. We have debt. We count our pennies.

I don’t have the money for a gym membership or a trainer or even to go to weekly yoga classes. I take books out of the library or buy them second hand on Ebay.

But don’t cry for me. And don’t think I’m complaining that my life is so hard.

But, I think that bad lifestyle choices aren’t reserved for the poor.

And it’s about time we stop having that conversation and move on. Frankly, it bores me.

Your sympathy and your outrage would be better spent WAKING UP our government. And our schools. And your neighbors.

I can’t resist a good 80s reference.

Now, when B.A. Baracus said “I pity the fool,” he usually meant he was gonna unleash a great big can of whoop-ass on whichever “fool” messed with his car or kidnapped Face. Not much pity there.

But I really do pity the fool. And by fool, I don’t mean idiot. I mean a person who might not know better.

I keep meeting people who are exposed to toxins through their work and I wonder (a) if they know they are poisoning themselves by handling these toxins and (b) should I tell them?

Tobi Indyke, a talented artist, just guest blogged on Mindful Living NJ today about her experience getting ill from 18 years working with petro-chemicals and paints. I think about how lucky she is she lived through the experience. And wished that someone could have told her sooner what was happening to her body in response to the chemicals she was handling every day.

Yesterday, I got my haircut at the salon I should have left three years ago, but haven’t because I love my stylist. I noticed the swollen, red hands of the regular hair washer and frowned. Imagine how many heads she handles each day? Applying toxic chemicals with her bare hands no less.

There are the workers in the meat and poultry factory getting lung cancer from being in closed rooms with the ammonia they wash the meat with. (Don’t believe me? Watch Food Inc.)

And what about the farmers and the children of farmers handling and working in pesticide-laden fields?

Uch. The worst work hazard I have to deal with every day is carpal tunnel, which is nothing to sneeze at, I know, but in comparison seems wimpy.

Who’s going to rescue these folks from a “crime they did not commit?”

If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find her, maybe you can hire… The Wellness Bitch.

I was half watching some MTV show the other day and saw a commercial for “Nair.” Any girl who went to summer camp or lived in a dormitory at some point probably experimented with Nair. It seemed like a much better alternative to razor burn, right? I won’t say who exactly, but someone I know very intimately once even tried using Nair on her eyebrows because she was sick of the pain associated with waxing. This despite the warning on the box that says, “Don’t Use Near Eyes or Mouth.”

We women have it rough with all this hair removal crap. Why in this modern society we’re still expected to shave our pits, wax our lips, and see the Brazilian at the salon for “down there,” I don’t know. But most of us still conform. At least I do. (Though, since I got married, I tend to get a little furrier in the winter. Keeps me warm and all that.)

But Nair? After I saw the commerical, I chuckled nostalgically, surprised that Nair still exists. Then I realized, “Wait a minute. If that shit can zap your hair away in less than five minutes, it must be seriously toxic.”

According to Wikipedia:

Products such as Nair often combine softening agents such as mineral oil to help offset the harsh active ingredients. Some of the important active ingredients are Calcium Hydroxide and Sodium Hydroxide. Calcium hydroxide, traditionally called slaked lime, hydrated lime, slack lime, or pickling lime, is a chemical compound with the formula Ca(OH)2. (Concentrated) Calcium Hydroxide qualifies as Health Level 3 on the “Diamond” of the NFPA 704, a standard maintained by the U.S.-based National Fire Protection Association.

Behind it is the even stronger Sodium hydroxide (NaOH), also known as lye and caustic soda, which is a caustic metallic (alkali) base.

So what’s this ”fire diamond” standard? It’s used by emergency personnel to “quickly and easily identify the risks posed by nearby hazardous materials.” Level three indicates that short exposure could “cause serious temporary or moderate residual injury.”

 Yikes!

And this chemical is packaged in pretty little pink bottles marked “Apple-licious” all ready for teen girls (and their moms!) to snatch up at the drug store.

All in an effort to look less hairy…for who?

Pathetic.

Ever since I first tried on my mom’s Clinique-brand blue eye shadow in the fifth grade, I’ve tried to make makeup work for me. To no avail.

I was never very good at applying it, at picking out colors or shades, or using it to my advantage. I was really good at making my lips look cum-alicious in Junior High with lipticks from L’Oreal named “Zinc Pink” or “Silver City Pink”, but as a kid makeup made me look like a whore and as an adult like an aging movie star (and by aging I mean blind.)

It doesn’t help that I’m also super sensitive to most makeup. The day before my wedding, I went to the makeup artist for a practice session. And good thing I did. I broke out in hives so bad that I would have been better-suited to marry The Elephant Man.

Since then, I’ve managed to find one brand whose blush and eyeshadow I can tolerate without swelling up or choking, but that’s about it. I know this is due to the fact that most makeups ARE POISON. As those of us who are health-conscious know, most beauty care products contain cancer-causing, hormone-altering chemicals. Somehow it doesn’t stop us from using them!!! (You know I mean you!)

It’s bad enough we’re using them; but think about the impact on our pre-teen daughters.

A few years ago, the “Teen Body Burden Study” found 16 toxic chemicals in blood and urine samples from 20 teen girls from eight states and the District of Columbia, aged 14-19, including preservatives, fragrance and antimicrobial compounds. Many of these are linked to serious health risks in lab animals, even at low-dose levels.

There are plenty of makeups (even some worn and promoted by celebrities) that are chemical-free. I can’t vouch for any of those because most of them have nut oils, and we don’t do nuts.

WAKE UP: If your teen is spending her allowance on makeup, you might want to monitor what’s she’s got inside that Walgreen’s bag.  Furthermore, if beauty is your thing, remember: your skin is porous. You’re not just painting your face, you’re sending that stuff into the bloodstream.

I bought my mom the cutest little BPA-free, stainless steel water bottle for Mother’s Day. Not exactly the first item on her wish list, but she appreciated the sentiment.

My mom is a bottled water drinker. She’s been keeping Costco in business for over a decade stocking up on cases of Poland Spring.

Maybe you’re like my mom and drink “purified” water from plastic bottles because you think it’s better for you or tastier. Or maybe you’re like the average American and you have a refrigerator in your house that promises “filtered” water. Or maybe you’re like me and you were scared into buying a “system” that promises “ionized,” “alkanized,” “magnetized,” or “distilled” water. 

I’m not a water expert. But I know enough to be scared that the water I’m drinking and bathing my kids in is TOXIC. But what’s worse is that I really don’t know what’s better.

There are two areas in the field of holistic health and wellness in which I tread cautiously…water and supplements. And so should you. Because the bottom line is (and I’m about to piss off some of my lil bitches who represent water and vitamin companies), some of the stuff that’s being marketed as healthy and safe is not. Or, the products are safe, but the return might not equal the investment you’re making.

As with choosing a health care practitioner, be mindful about your purchases. Ask questions.  Take the time to do research. Learn the credentials of the person you trust with your wellness decisions. And remember, just because an “expert” has a degree or certificate doesn’t make him wise. And just because a person sounds wise, doesn’t mean he’s kind. And just because someone is kind, doesn’t mean he knows shit about what’s best for your family.

WAKE UP. You know what’s best for your family. Now, go do some research.

TIPS: What’s wrong with plastic water bottles.  A list of drinking water contaminants. Drugs in our drinking water.

As you know, I am a wellness bitch loud and proud. People in my life have actually started introducing me that way to perfect strangers. Or, my husband for instance, will say something to the effect of, “watch out, here comes the wellness bitch.” As if I’m Bruce Banner morphing into the Incredible Hulk.

It’s all good.

What’s also fun is how much people relate to the concept of being a wellness bitch. I get comments like, “yeah, I’m the wellness bitch in my playgroup. People are terrified to bring snacks into my house without checking with me first.” Or yesterday, a practitioner I met for the first time said, “Is The Wellness Bitch anything like the Reiki Nazis I know?”

People who are passionate about health and wellness do not blend in with the crowd. They may not have a podium to speak on or rant daily on a blog, but people in their lives know what they’re up to.

For me, bitching usually happens around the topics of food, childbirth choice, parenting, education and health care. But I’m curious to know what you’re pissed off about. What WAKE UP CALLS are you sharing with your family and friends? What do you want to say that I may not be bitchin’ enough about?

Use The Wellness Bitch today as your podium. Go ahead. Rant. Here.

I’d say “keep it clean,” but that’d be hypocritical, wouldn’t it?