My beautiful apartment was not only plagued with black mold from the moment I moved in, it was owned by a slumlord who didn’t care.
After years abroad and out west, I was once again living on an island in the ocean with my small dog. For three years we were seasonal, spending summers in Maine so my dog could go outside, avoiding the scalding sidewalks and heavy, hot air.
I only noticed the mold after I signed the lease the same day as moving in during a housing crisis. I turned on the wall unit and it immediately began coughing out chunks of black mold. A few shocking arguments later, the slumlord agreed to purchase a new wall A/C unit.


After cleaning like my life depended on it with enormous help from a dear friend, and a new A/C unit, I felt the apartment was livable.

It wasn’t until I came home from a summer in Maine that I noticed my toilet and shower were growing black mold. I was horrified. I replaced the toilet seat and applied something to the bathtub. There was also hidden water damage under the sticky fake wood boards. I could feel the floor was “soft” near the bathtub when I walked. Water stains were slightly visible on the cathedral ceiling in the bedroom, but I was assured “the roof was new” and it was “just stains.”


Important to note: my mother died a year after I moved in. I only spent a few months a year in the island apartment. Six months after her passing, I began to show symptoms. Was it Covid? Was it stress from her death?
Dark under-eye circles. Hair falling out in chunks. Severe fatigue. Taking naps every single day. Lack of appetite. Mood swings I didn’t understand. Fingernails that stopped growing. Hair turning suddenly white in a streak along my forehead. Severe sinus issues. Thick eye discharge. To name a few.
Summer of 2024, I decided my lack of energy and shortness of breath was the final straw. I ordered my own lab work (including ferritin) and my results were shocking. My ferritin was 9, which is critically low, and my blood cells were “pale.”

This is when my health journey began. This is where the rest of my life began.
