Not a single thing; couldn't even smell a skunk if one got all freaked out and skunk'd me.
It was just over a year ago that I lost my sense of smell. I was sick with a bad cold which morphed into some kind of thing that may or may not have been what is known as burning mouth syndrome...which is not anything you ever want to experience if you can help it.
I noticed that my sense of smell & taste disappeared during all of this but, while that was annoying, I didn't think it was much of a big deal. I've lost those senses before during sickness and they usually return to normal after a few days.
But not this time.
A week, a month, two months...and now here we are, 14 months later and nada.
Recently, someone said that if they ever lost their sense of smell that it would be a "death sentence" for them.
I think I can sort of understand someone feeling that way but I have a very excellent reason for mostly not feeling that way.
You see, three months before all of this went down I spent some days in the CCU (critical care unit) with my left lung totally collapsed and my right one on its way to collapsing as well. This happened to me as a result of walking pneumonia I didn't know I had.
Here's the Cliffs Notes version of the whole story: sick with a pretty high fever of 102, breathless, but no other symptoms of sick. Laid around in bed for a few days then developed pain in my back. Pain went from bad to worse so I went to the ER where I was diagnosed with "back spasms" (without taking an x-ray) and sent home with pain killers. Once home, pain went from worse to severe and I finished an entire bottle of pain killers in about 30 hours (and I don't even take Tylenol). Crawled back to the ER with the intent of getting more pain pills. Fortunately, a new doctor was on duty who thought an x-ray might be in order since I couldn't even walk at this point because the pain was so intense. The x-ray allowed that doctor to correctly diagnose me and shuffle me off via ambulance to the main hospital with all the right people, places and things that would ultimately allow me to live.At the time I was working in an office that was housed in a very old building whose venting system had likely not been cleaned since it had been installed...which I'd estimate was probably around World War II or so. Ingesting the dust/dirt it spewed on a regular basis turned out to be not so good for me/my lungs.
Obviously and very, very (very!) thankfully, I recovered physically but that episode was life-altering. As a result, many, many (many!) things have changed for me as a result. (One minor change is that I now get very uncomfortable if anyone touches my back in a rub/massage kind of way - which is crazy because I am a major rub whore - as if their action will somehow cause my lung to collapse. Isn't that weird?)
OK, so fast forward 3 months after all of that went down to when I lose my sense of smell and 3/4 of my sense of taste, since they go hand-in-hand.
I guess to some people that would be a "death sentence" but since it happened to me after almost dying...well, yeah, I'd rather still be around to not smell or taste, ya know what I mean?
Perspective would be at the top of the list of the many things that the almost dying thing changes dramatically, I assure you.
Not being able to smell/taste sucks. Sucks. SUCKS.
I probably am reminded of what I no longer have 500 times a day, minimally: clean hair, my husband's scent, coffee, lemons, fresh air, wet dog, cinnamon, bleach, flowers, gasoline, garlic, perfume, Old Bay seasoning, anything that might be sour/spoiled...the list of what I cannot any longer smell goes on and on and on and on...
And it can be dangerous, too. Recently our giant propane tank sprang a leak and I never knew it because I couldn't smell it. Thankfully I can't smell candles or incense either and no longer use them because had I lit a match to light either of those things with the propane leak happening...yeah, not good in a big way. I think Mister loses sleep worrying about these kinds of things nowadays with me. It's almost funny to watch people kind of act like they're mad at me for not being able to smell. When Mister discovered the propane leak he sort of lashed out, out loud about me not being able to smell things like that. It seems I'm not the only one who feels fear and frustration about this condition.
As far as taste goes, I can discern sweet, sour, salty, bitter. There are some things that I can still taste and that list is crazy strange - coffee, brownies, wine, almonds, vinegar, cherries, oranges, hot pepper, for example.
What I have discovered, though, is that your brain is kind and benevolent. I'm not going to be able to describe this very well but somehow I am able to remember tastes and smells and can somehow still taste/smell them by memory even though I can't actually taste or smell them. This allows me to still enjoy things.
(Try this: think of licking or sucking on a lemon. Did just the thought make your mouth water?)
Texture has become seriously important to me. One of our favorite places has an amazing cheesy crab dip that they serve hot in a bread bowl. I can't actually taste the seasonings so how do I know it's amazing? Its creaminess is divine. The bread is crunchy on the outside and wonderfully chewy on the inside, like perfect bread should be.
And you know what? That is A-OK because I am human, afterall.
Still, I do my best to make the best of the hand I am dealt...and when I can't, I do my best to fake it.
Or I write therapeutic blog posts about the things that piss me off and/or annoy me.
Or I surround myself with any and all things whimsical.
Or with this:
And then there's Mister...and Juanita Valdez...and cupcakes...front porch sittin'...motorcycle ridin'...painting...blogging...ice pops...taking pictures...exploring...God...books...doctors who are competent...second chances...
Yup, the list of things that DON'T SUCK is much, much longer than the things that do.
And that's exactly what keeps me out of my self-pitying bed.'
Most of the time, anyway.
