Can You Smell Fear?

I want to talk very briefly about fear. Briefly because I don’t like focusing on fear, it’s such a negative thing and can be very overwhelming if we let it.

But it needs to be talked about.

When I first started this adventure, there was A LOT of fear. Would I EVER smell again? Would food EVER taste normal again? What about flowers and rain and spring and Christmas trees and….. The list went on and on, everything I could possibly think of missing, I missed.

Then I settled in a bit, and things started to be less scary. I got used to things being weird, and weird became normal.

Well, now I don’t even notice the weird. It’s just normal.

Except for when it’s not.

I may never know how much “damage” was done, or what exactly happened, or if the sense I once knew will come back even a little. That was really scary for a while. Now I’ve settled into the mode of “Well, I guess we’ll just make do”.

But I still have some fears.

First let’s talk about the smells that warn us. Smoke, gas, burning rubber, sulfur, etc. Those are important things to smell. I can’t smell those anymore. So what will I do about that? Not sure, but I’ve already had little tiny moments of fear there. The smoke detectors went off the other day and it shocked me because I hadn’t smelled anything burning. Turns out the roomie got a little too excited with her cooking. Nothing bad, it cleared up right away. But I didn’t know. I couldn’t smell it. It got my brain spinning, yet again, about the other dangerous things I couldn’t smell. I’ve thought about it a lot since this happened, and others have brought it up too. Every time, my answer is “I don’t know.” That is a fear I’m not sure how I’ll get over, but I’ll try.

Second, the kitchen. I have become a typical college student again, eating fast and easy and cheap [but not so cheap] meals other people cook. Fast food happens AT LEAST once a week, usually more. Why? Because I’m afraid of cooking. Seems silly, I know, but I’m not going to know if something smells right, and a lot of cooking, for me, was about smell. Or taste. How am I supposed to know if something needs more salt? Which, granted, doesn’t mean much to me right now, but if I was cooking for someone else? I was making brownies the other day, from a box, and I was terrified. I used to know when brownies were almost done by how they smelled. I’d never made this kind before, what if my oven cooked them at a different rate? What if I ruined them? What if I burned them? These were for a church activity, they HAD to be good. Thankfully, one of my roommates was home and I peeked in her room and asked her to tell me if anything started smelling one way or the other. I THINK they turned out okay? I’d say they tasted fine, but I’m not exactly a good judge of that anymore. They were too gooey, but some people like those. Oh well.

Third, favorites. I have found my realm of “comfort food” like this, and it doesn’t extend very far. I eat the same things all the time. Why? Because I’m afraid that the foods I used to love will disappoint me. I don’t want Five Guys burgers and fries to taste like the new normal. I don’t want my favorite cereal to taste like cardboard. I don’t want Mom’s chocolate chip cookies to be reduced to the same flavor as four day old oatmeal raisin cookies from the store. And at this moment, I may never eat one of my mom’s cinnamon rolls again, because losing that would be a tragedy. I’m not necessarily going out of my way to avoid these things, but I don’t exactly put forth effort there either. I’m afraid if I try them again, like this, I’ll forget how they used to taste. It’s happening with other foods, and I’m not ready for that yet.

Fourth, people. Not actual people, I don’t really miss smelling all y’all [no offense] but like public settings. I haven’t quite figured out how to handle that yet. I never noticed how often we comment on smell. One of my students the other day asked “What smells?” And without thinking, I asked, “I dunno, what does?” She was so embarrassed and flustered, and it took me a second to understand why. Then I was apologizing and she was apologizing, and it was a really awkward situation. I hadn’t meant for it to be, I honestly forgot that I couldn’t smell, so I didn’t know what she was talking about. I didn’t know something smelled. Or when someone makes the comment about how great something smells and looks to me to reciprocate. My first response is usually “I bet it does”, or if I’m feeling funny “Does it?” But those backfire too. People are always apologizing for forgetting that I can’t smell. It’s fine, I forget too. I don’t get offended by people asking me if something smells weird or good or asking me to taste something and then forgetting that I can’t taste like I used to. It doesn’t bother me, and I’d like to joke about it. I try, but it just makes people uncomfortable. We were trying to decide on places to go for lunch, and that was usually where I’d jump in and voice an opinion, so everyone looked at me. I smiled and said, “Guys, I am not the person to ask about restaurants these days, so pick a place, and I will go and eat whatever they have.” I thought that might have worked. It didn’t. I don’t know if the problem is me or that people just don’t know how to respond. But it’s making me self-conscious. I don’t want this to be a sign I have to wear around my neck. I don’t want to be the downer.

Fears are annoying. I know that, I get irritated by them myself. I’ll feel all brave about trying something and then back out at the last second. I have no problem trying things I’ve never had before because they can taste like whatever I want. I don’t miss smelling bathrooms or sweaty athletes. I don’t miss craving things, because honestly, how maddening is that? Especially when you can’t have it! Drives people crazy. Sure, sometimes I get in the mood for something, but I’ve learned how to deal with that. I’ve actually learned a lot.

Still learning. Every day.

But this isn’t so new anymore, so I’m not noticing as much as I used to.

Someone asked me today if I was getting better, and I didn’t know what to say. I knew what they meant, which was “Is your taste better?” or “Is your smell better?” and the answer to that is, sadly, “No” right now. I’ve tried and tested a lot, and it’s just not.

But AM I getting better? And the answer to that is a resounding YES. There are way too many facets of that answer to go into on here, and some things that are way too personal for a public blog, but the change in the last few weeks has been amazing.

I have fears. I just told you about them, and I’m sure as soon as I post this, I’ll think of more.

But I’m not afraid anymore.

The future doesn’t hold scary things for me anymore. The worst case scenario is not looming over my head. I don’t feel weighed down by what I can’t do anymore, I’m not worried about the “what if” and “maybe never” stuff.

And that is pretty dang freeing.

Little fears come and go, and I have no doubt I’ll be making adjustments for quite a while as I figure out life like this. But it’s a life. I’m living. Moving forward.

To wherever this path takes me.

And it’s not scary.

It’s exciting.

It’s an adventure.

High: I really love ice cream. Doesn’t matter that it doesn’t taste quite like it used to, I still love it, and it’s still comforting, and it still makes my night better when I have it.

Low: Skyline chili. Oh, it breaks my heart. One of my sweet girls is from Cincinnati and went home for Easter and brought me back some. I tried SO SO SO hard to get a hint of something from it. Nothing. Ugh. Moment of silence……….

High: It’s spring and it’s pretty and beautiful and the colors are so fresh and bright, and the air feels like spring. Easter was glorious and the world is gorgeous. And I can imagine it to smell like whatever I want. And today it smells like hyacinths.

Let go of fear. It’s not worth the effort. You might not be brave, and that’s fine. But don’t be afraid.

Recently

Haven’t had much to talk about recently, hence my lack of posting. But I figured it was time for an update of some kind.
I have found that I am thinking about this less and less as the days go on. It seems normal now for things to taste the way they do, for nothing to smell, and for the same scent to linger in my nose and mouth all day long. I guess this is a good thing, because it means I am adapting to the way things are. I not as surprised anymore when I forget that I can’t smell. I’m forgetting less often.
The other side of this is that because things are becoming more normal, I am not thinking about the other stuff that came along with it. I felt very insightful for a while there, thinking that I was experiencing so much even without smell as I tried to adapt. I don’t notice the smaller things as much anymore. Maybe those are becoming normal, too. It’s the nature of being busy, I guess. Life gets so crazy and full of activities and stresses that a lot of things fall by the wayside.
But here’s the thing: I don’t want that to happen. I don’t mind not focusing on the lack of smell, that would actually be nice. I would rather not dwell on what I don’t have or what I am missing. But I don’t want to lose the appreciation for what I have, now that I have seen things differently.
Maybe I’m not losing it, maybe it’s just not as surprising? I walked to my mailbox yesterday and I saw a wild patch of daffodils by our creek. We don’t have a lot of green or color here yet, everything is still that “end of winter” brown. But those daffodils were bright and happy and stood out on the hillside. And I noticed, and I smiled. I didn’t wonder what they smelled like. I was just grateful they were there.
We have a roundabout in our complex [which is really entertaining, as most of the people don’t know what to do with it] and in the center there is some dirt. Or I thought it was just dirt, anyway. But the other day, when it was a little warmer than it had been, I saw the familiar deep purple crocuses popping up. Those have been one of my favorite flowers ever since I can remember. They are the first sign of spring to me, and they don’t last very long. But I love the symbol of hope and relief they have always been to me. And I smiled. I didn’t wonder what they smelled like. I was just happy to see them.
The point is that I am not dwelling on not smelling anymore. Which is huge for me. In spite of all my efforts, it was a very consuming topic for my mind. I think that’s normal. I think we tend to dwell on our struggles more than we admit, and it is hard to change our thought process. We focus on our weaknesses, and it can become our favorite topic to dwell on. While improvement of our weaknesses, and overcoming our trials, is all very important and our energies should be focused on turning weaknesses into strengths, there is danger in dwelling on our imperfections or our struggles. It can change the way we view ourselves, and we will always be seeing ourselves as lacking.
I don’t want to see myself as lacking the sense of smell. Or having a muted sense of taste. That may be what I have, but it isn’t who I am. Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not all-insightful now because I have made it through this. This is still hard and it’s still challenging, but I am progressing. I think I am starting to actually live now, and I find that not smelling doesn’t hold me back at all. Which I knew in my head from the start, but I didn’t believe in my heart. Now the two seem to be getting along much better.

There is a point where we learn to accept our struggles and trials as part of our journey, and we reach a kind of serenity with them. Not because they are suddenly easy or the burdens are taken away, but because we are no longer afraid of them. Because we are not focused on how hard it is to carry them. Of course, it’s hard. It’s supposed to be. What would we ever learn in life if everything was easy and given to us? What strength would we gain if all of our work was light and required no effort from us? No, we need things to be hard if we want to become more than what we are.

I’ll admit right here and now that I still have doubts and worries. I still don’t venture very far into the other realms of food or some of my one-time favorites. It’s self-preservation. I don’t want to know what my old favorites taste like this way. I want them to stay fresh and fragrant and delicious in my memory. But you can only eat so much Qdoba and fried rice and chocolate and trail mix before you get bored and want more. So someday that will have to change. I’ll get there, and who knows, maybe I’ll find that Mom’s chimichangas are still good this way. Maybe they won’t be.

After all, ribs were still good. Didn’t think they would be, but they were.
Not everything is going to be bad just because it will be different.

Maybe I should listen to myself a little more.

High: Those ribs my dad got at Texas Roadhouse. So tender and juicy! And I picked up a bit of sweet and tangy in the sauce, so that was fun!
Low: All the spicy that I’m going for is starting to take its toll on me. I may need to lay low in the food department for a while…
High: I had a strawberry milkshake from Chick-fil-a the other night. It was awesome. There was a hint of the sweet fruity-flavor and bits of real strawberry in it, so it was much better than I thought. I expected a bland-ish dairy flavored thing. Nope! Pleasantly surprised.

Whatever our trials are, day to day, we can do it. We wouldn’t have them otherwise. You are not alone, even if you feel like you are. Life is not as scary as it feels. I promise.

This and That

So here’s a couple of things I have noticed in the last little while that you may find interesting.

I had a handful of jelly beans [Jelly Bellies, if you wanted specifics] the other day, and I looked down at them. I could remember what the various colors and patterns were, so I had a fairly good idea of what I would have expected before. Now? No clue. Maybe the watermelon would taste like black licorice. Maybe buttery popcorn would taste like cherry. Honestly, probably not, but that would have been cool. So I popped a couple of them in. Sadly, they all tasted the same. Sugary jelly-ish something or other. Even the black licorice. For the record, I hated black licorice before. I wasn’t too fond of regular licorice either, but black licorice was kind of like leprosy for your mouth in my opinion. Now it tasted just like every other jelly bean. Guess those flavors just aren’t strong enough.

I can tell the difference between milk chocolate and white chocolate. I know, I know, those of you who understand chocolate on any level know that white chocolate is technically not really chocolate and that it tastes completely different from every other kind of chocolate. But when you can’t tell the difference between a black licorice jelly bean and a buttery popcorn jelly bean, this is a big deal. And I’m not sure if it’s the flavors I can distinguish or the texture. Either way, chocolate covered pretzels have a different flavor depending on which chocolate covers them. And I know that for a fact. Better do some more experimentation to get some clearer answers.

“The smell” is changing. It’s changed a couple of times before, so this isn’t actually much of a revelation. It was a bittery chalky thing before, then it turned almost rancid like I mentioned before. Last night it changed again, and for a faint moment, I thought I was actually smelling something. I was getting my hair done by my sweet and talented friend Annie, and there was a lot of color involved. You hair coloring people will know that there is a very chemical smell about that. Anyway, “the smell” became a chemical rancidy something. And it was very strong. I was tempted to ask Annie what the hair product smelled like, but I didn’t want to jump to anything. After all, she’d already tried to have me smell the shampoo and it didn’t work. But that smell stayed in my nostrils and mouth [sounds gross, but it’s true, sort of. It’s like the back of my throat, not really my mouth… as if that makes it better…] for the rest of the night. As I have gone throughout the day today, it’s come in waves, and I know my hair doesn’t smell anymore. I asked someone to smell it. So I guess I couldn’t smell the dye. But it was interesting to me that it changed. I dunno. It’s weird. I have it right now and it’s kinda driving me crazy…

Sunday I had a chili-like soup that was really interesting. I say chili-like because it was dense and thicker and had a lot of stuff in it. I say interesting because a lot of the stuff that was in there wasn’t soft and mushy. They actually had individual textures, so it was a pleasant eating experience for me. I couldn’t tell you what the flavor of it was, but there were a few softer things that blended together and made my tongue buzz a little bit. Whatever that implies. Obviously, I still need to learn how my mouth interprets things, but we’re learning.

All in all, things are going fairly well. Sometimes I still forget that I can’t smell so it surprises me when I pop something into my mouth and it doesn’t taste like I think it will. But that’s happening less and less.

Which is good, I guess.

High: That soup was awesome. I expected nothing and I got…something. It was fun.

Low: Popcorn has also been added to the list of has-beens. I can’t make it through an entire bag of microwave popcorn anymore, and I used to be a total junkie in that regard. So sad. I may have cried a little. Okay, maybe not, but it was super sad.

High: I still love cookie dough. Which is good and bad. Good because I adore cookie dough and the fact that I still do just makes the sun shine. It’s also bad because it means it’s one of the few things I still want to eat, so I eat it as often as I can. Oh boy…

The more and more I deal with this, the more and more I realize that it’s the little things in life that matter. So find some little things to appreciate. See how the world opens up to your view.