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.

Your Nose Knows

I’ve been a bit of a downer lately, and for that I apologize. So here are some entertaining things to help boost things up.
I have this smell that I seem to always have in my nose and mouth. It’s not pleasant, per se, but neither is it awful. I get used to it. Depending on the place I’m in and the sort of air around me and my stress level, it is stronger or weaker. At first, I thought it was the taste and smell of my prescription. It has that sort of odd chalky bitterness to it. But that didn’t seem to quite get it. Today it came to me. It reminds of the smell of a bit of memory. One time my mom and I were making our usual coffee cakes, and something just seemed off about it. When we took them out, they smelled way different than normal. We smelled everything we could to figure it out, and it finally came to us. The graham crackers we had used had turned rancid in their cardboard containers. We threw the lot away, obviously, but that smell… Ugh, that was awful.
So yeah, this kind of smells like that. But it’s not nearly that bad. Still, it’s nice to tie it to something. Maybe my brain is turning rancid and that is why I smell and taste it. That would be unfortunate. I had hoped my brain would smell better than that.
Maybe it does. Every brain I’ve ever smelled just smells like formaldehyde, so that doesn’t count.
ANYWAY…
I’ve been curious as to what I can and cannot taste like this. But I’m hesitant to make meals or buy many groceries just to try things. What if I don’t like it and don’t want to eat it and it all goes to waste? So I have been trying things here and there, and can give you a pretty good run-down of the fast food options in Morgantown when you can’t smell and taste is way off. Here you go:
-       Arby’s: roast beef sandwiches have a meaty hint, but it’s more textural than flavor. Curly fries don’t have a strong enough flavor to present themselves to me. Milkshakes are almost as good by texture as they are by taste, so that was fun to know.
-       Wendy’s: Excellent fries. No doubt due to their saltiness, but they were also crisp and had the teeniest bit of crunch. Not like a burned crisp or crunch, but just not overcooked. Burgers weren’t much to discuss, but the Frosty’s were just as good without flavor.
-       Chick-fil-a: Sorry to say it, but neither the chicken nor the fries had a flavor strong enough to pick up. The fruit cup was the only thing I could taste.
-       Burger King: So-so, all told. Nothing too spectacular.
-       McDonald’s: Shockingly enough, this place had the only burgers that had any taste at all. No doubt it’s because of the sheer amount of sodium in them, but I’m not going to complain about that now. Fries weren’t much to write home about, and the shake was too thin to be particularly enjoyable.
-       Subway: Given the tastelessness of lettuce, I can’t even bear the texture these days, and the bread overwhelms the subtle sandwich flavors. However – they have a new thing. The Flatizza. A flatbread pizza. And I’ve wondered about pizza lately. I knew I could get a hint of marinara, thanks to the flavors and acidity, but pizza? Thankfully, thanks to the sheer amount of veggies I put on mine, it was quite good. What it tasted like, I don’t know. But it was close.
-       Sonic: This was today’s adventure. I got the Chicago style hot dog, and there was a lot of texture there. Salt from the hot dog, pickle, mustard, etc. Bite from the relish and the onions, and the mustard. It was great. The tater tots were so-so. Warm and buttery, but not much flavor. Still, there was something.
Still have a few other places to try, so stay tuned.
I’ve been asked if my nose is still sensitive like regular noses are. I’d have to say yes. I think I can detect changes in the air, but flavors or actual sense of it, I can’t pick up.  I still get runny noses. I get sinus headaches [which is sooooo weird when you can’t smell, though I can’t tell why]. When the weather changed, I got a stuffy nose and achy sinuses, just like I used to and just like regular people. But on the flip side, I can’t tell when there is a powerful scent in the air, no matter what it is. I've missed dry erase markers, alcohol, fresh paint, and chlorine. I have yet to smell warm, fresh food no matter what it is. I missed the smell of bleach at work today. Had no idea the air was anything except that bitter chalky taste I have all the time.
So…. I don’t know? We’ll call it To Be Determined.
Also.  A friend asked me for my opinion on this article: http://www.npr.org/blogs/health/2014/03/20/291954994/never-mind-eyesight-your-nose-knows-much-more
Go on and read it. It's really cool, actually. Go ahead. I'll wait.

I found this very interesting, especially considering how I now experience things. I will acknowledge that there is a lot more to smell than anyone knows who has not gone without it. It certainly is the most unknown of the senses, and we severely underestimate it. But I can’t say anything against sight, having never had to go without it. Being without smell has started to sharpen my other senses, at least in my mind, so I think I see more. Not better, per se, but I am paying more attention. I focus more and see things that I didn’t before. But I think we do see them, we just do not acknowledge that we see them.
I know I didn’t really give an opinion. But who am I to say that smell is greater than sight? Ask a blind man what they think, and they might say smell has shown them more than they thought, but they miss their sight. Ask someone with anosmia what they think, and they might say there is more to the world than smell, but they miss smell all the same.
I miss smelling. But it’s not the end of the world. Far, far from it. On the contrary, the world is all-new to me. I would not wish anyone to see the world while missing one of the senses we were given to experience it. But in doing so myself, I find that I appreciate everything more.
Could it be worse? Absolutely it could. Could it be better? Sure. But what is wrong with appreciating the world more? Seeing the world differently? Discovering just how beautiful the world and life is, and the magic – the miracle – that it is to have what we do, and to experience it the way we do?
That is pretty dang amazing, if you think about it. When you understand that--really understand--it's even more amazing.

High: I’m going with pizza. That was the closest I’ve come to normal yet.
Low: “The smell” has been really strong in the last few days. Everything takes on its flavor in one form or another. And it gives me a headache. I’d like to wash my mouth and nose and sinuses with Listerine, but I’m not that stupid. Here’s hoping it fades. Or I get used to it. One way or the other, I'd be content.
High: Apparently the garbage that collects at the end of our hall [since we’re so far from the dumpster] has been really rank lately. Didn’t know I was living in a stink hole, so I’ve been thinking home was just as pleasant as ever. Amazing how perception changes one’s view…

I’ve been told by a friend and supervisor to try essential oils, to see if I can smell any of those. I have no experience with those or anything like them. Anyone else think it might make a difference? Granted, he’s no expert or scientist. Just a fellow worker in health and manual therapy, and we share an interest in the power of aromatherapy. But it was an interesting idea.
I wonder if they’ve made anything that smells like cooking bacon….

Roller Coasters and Life

Let’s talk about something that I haven’t really touched on yet. I’m not quite sure how this will go, and maybe I shouldn’t even be talking about it, but it’s my experience of late, so here we go.
I had no idea how tied to emotion smell was.
It doesn’t seem like a connection that would be made easily. After all, what we see and hear and touch brings us so much emotion, makes us feel so much. No one ever really remembers that smell is important. That smells give us emotions too. That smell is powerful.
It’s taken me a bit of time of living and dealing with this to get here, but now that I am, I can tell you this: it is an emotional roller coaster.
It’s hard to put into words, and I’m not sure I could without sounding dramatic, so I won’t even try. Everything about this is hard to explain, and probably even harder to understand without experiencing it yourself, so kudos to you for even reading this.
I don’t know how to “deal” with this besides the way that I am. There is no “National Organization for the Smelling Impaired”. We don’t get special treatment plans or tools for adapting or privileged parking or have any sort of outward sign of what we live with. And honestly, we don’t need one. We can do everything we could do before. It’s just…different.
Eating is stressful. If food is placed in front of me and I don’t have a choice, I can eat it. I can make it work. Might not eat a lot of it because appetite is pretty much a thing of craving and satisfaction, which I don’t really have anymore, but I make do. But if I have to decide what I am going to eat? Stressful and maddening and aggravating, and ultimately, disappointing. Because when we have a choice about it, we want something that will taste good. We want something that we like. Something we crave.
When nothing you can eat will give that to you, will fill you, will satisfy you, you don’t want to eat anything at all. Don’t freak out on me, I do eat, I promise. But what used to be the easiest thing in the world [far too easy, if you’re a scale-watcher] is now one of the hardest. It’s like those times when you’re starving but nothing sounds good and you don’t know what you want to eat and you ask just about everybody you can what you should eat just so you don’t have to think about it anymore and eventually you just settle on something because “maybe this will do the trick”.
Except I always hope I’ll taste it. Not even that, because sometimes I can taste something. I hope it will taste like I remember.
I still look for the end goal.
Nothing wrong with that, per se, but it does make living in the now pretty hard. Because right now, the end is not here. And I don’t know when it is going to be. And I start to wonder if actively hoping for the old normal, or even a hint of it, is keeping me from accepting and embracing this “new normal”.
So apparently, I’m still kicking and screaming and fighting this. And that’s okay. Because He asked me at the very beginning of this roller coaster if I trust him. I told Him I did. He’s a very intelligent being, because He asked me again. “Do you trust me?” I gave it the careful consideration it deserved, then I honestly replied, “Yes. I trust You.” I felt a small burst of warmth that told me He was pleased with that reply. Then one phrase entered my mind and it has been repeating every day, multiple times, ever since: “THEN TRUST ME.”

So I have hard days. So I have hard hours. So sometimes I can’t always smile and pretend that this is fun, that I’m fine, that this isn’t so bad. Sometimes I can. Sometimes it isn’t so bad. Sometimes I am fine. It’s all okay. Because I trust Him, and He knows that this is hard. He knows that I’m doing the best that I can. He knows that I know He is there. That I’m not doing this on my own, in spite of how it feels sometimes. And all I can do is keep trusting Him. Because there is a reason why I have to do this. What it is, what I am supposed to learn, I don’t know yet. Maybe I won’t for a long time. But I’m going to do the best I can to learn it, to become whoever I am supposed to, and to give back whatever I gain because of this experience.

It’s hard. It sucks sometimes. I hurt sometimes. I shut down sometimes. But I’ll get there. We all will. One step at a time, one day at a time, one trial at a time. We’ll get there.
High: My sweet friend Adriana made me quinoa last night. “You’ve never had it, so you don’t know what it’s supposed to taste like, so it can taste however you want!” Turns out that texturally, it was really kind of fun to eat. Who knew?
Low: I was watching construction work happening in a field by where I work. I couldn’t remember how dirt smelled. It seems weird, I know, I never actively smelled dirt before. But dirt and overturning of dirt and construction, they all have smells. And I couldn’t tell you what it is. I don’t remember what dirt smells like. And that was sad.

High: In my reading and research and conversations lately, I’ve been told that the whole “emotional” aspect of this is normal, and some people have it worse. The book I quoted last time, “Season To Taste”, had so many insights and recollections that echoed my exact thoughts and emotions. It is such a relief to find that my reactions, my feelings, my struggles, have all been experienced by others with this same challenge. Someone else knows exactly what this is like. Doesn’t matter if I don’t know them or ever meet them. They’ve been here. They know. And they got through it.

Life is a beautiful thing. The world is a beautiful medley of senses and experiences and there are layers upon layers of amazing parts to live and witness and embrace. Don’t waste it. Find it all. See the magic of life unfold for you when it does.

It is amazing.

Magic In The Air

This may seem like a stretch for some of you, but I hope you trust me enough to go with it for a minute while I try to explain what the heck is going on in my head these days.

Smell is a language. A smell can tell you something that nothing else can. The scent of sweat tells you of heat or activity. The scent of laundry detergent brings a feeling of warmth and cleanliness. The scent of chocolate chip cookies takes you home to Mom and makes you thirsty for milk. The scent of burning leaves makes you feel warm and puts you at ease the way friends huddled around a bonfire in the middle of a summer night can make you talk about things you never would have anywhere else. We each have different languages with smell, what we like and what we don’t. My sister, oddly enough, loves the smell of a gas station. I hate it, it gives me a headache. One of my friends loves flowery lotions and perfumes. I prefer more subtle and earthy smells. Does it say something about our personality? Probably. But what?

Smell is also an interpretation. It is a way of opening the world. The paragraph above? You all knew exactly what I was talking about. You all saw those images in your mind, could smell that scent. You all have memories or stories around those scents and millions of others. Every person has a smell. Every home has a smell. You judge a person right away based on their smell. You may not think you do, but subconsciously we notice and we either approve or disapprove. What perfume a woman wears tells us a lot about her, if she has money or not, if she wants to stand out or not, and sometimes if she can smell it or not… What scents do you keep in your house? Why? What are you saying? What do you want others to know just by the smell of your rooms? Or do you actually think about it?

Smell is tied to memories. The scent of a new born baby after a bath. The scent of rain in spring as you walk out to the bus stop and try to avoid the worms on the pavement. The smell of bread baking in the oven. The smell of your dad’s deodorant after a shower. The smell of your grandmother’s White Diamonds perfume. The smell of your friend’s boyfriend as you both smell his hooded sweatshirt during early morning bible study because nobody at your school smells that good… I still remember the way the NICU smelled when I visited in 1998. It had that stale, but clean generic smell of a hospital, mingled with the sweet, subtle fragrance of a baby’s bath and diaper wipes and formula, and the even more subtle hint of burnt something as the machines whirled angrily in their protection of the precious charges they bore.

Smell is tied to emotions. The same candle that sits in my mom’s kitchen sits in my bedroom in my apartment because it smells like home. The subtle smell of coffee takes me to the place I feel most myself, my grandmother’s house, and I smile every time. The smell of warm popcorn makes me hungry. The smell of pine makes me sad unless it’s December. The smell of sandalwood makes me lonely.

An interesting experience happened a few years ago when I was living and working in Cincinnati for massage therapy school. I had lived there as a kid and gone to all of pre-school and elementary school during our time there. We had this principal at my elementary school. She was awesome. Tough, but kind. She always wore the business-suit combo of the 90’s, but she made it work. Her hair was the blonde version of Sally Field in Steel Magnolias, but with more body. She was a tan woman, with bold lipstick, white teeth, and she was just so pretty, even for an older [ish…. I have no idea how old she was, I was a child, everybody is old by comparison] woman. And she had this smell. It was a sweet smell, but with deeper, bold edges to it. And it had that faint hint of alcohol that told you it was a perfume as opposed to a detergent or lotion. No idea what it was, but she was the only woman on earth who smelled that way. And because I liked her, and she liked me, it was a good smell.

I was working at my part-time job one day, minding my own business, when I smelled that smell. It had been at least 10 years MINIMUM since I had smelled it. But I automatically was taken back to that elementary school and that office and that principal. Just for kicks, I looked up from my work and looked intently at all the customers. Lo and behold, there she was. Sans 90’s business suit combo, but same hair, same tan, same face, and, apparently, same smell. I smiled to myself, remembering how much I liked her and how nice she had been and how awesome little me thought she was. It wasn’t possible to talk with her, and I had no intention of approaching when she was surrounded by family. But that was a signature experience for me. I hope someday I see her again and I can tell her about that, especially now. I wouldn’t have seen her had I not smelled that scent again. And maybe she’ll tell me what it is. But I kind of hope she doesn’t. The mystery, the signature, would be lost if someone else could capture it.

And that would ruin the magic.

Smell is magic. It really and truly is. How can something we all experience every day be so without description? How can it make us remember in the way that nothing else can? How can it trigger emotions and memories, speak words we can’t say and help us understand what is not said?

How can losing something we can’t describe and don’t understand and take for granted be so hard to describe and be so very overwhelming?

Magic, I tell you. Just plain simple magic.

And the more I learn, through reading and experience, the more magical it is.

Here’s hoping I get that magic back into my life. I’ll never take it for granted again.

High: The spice of my Spanish rice last night was spicy enough that I could feel it. I’m learning that I need to describe things better—I can feel spice, taste salt, taste sweet, feel tartness and mint, etc…

Low: Remembering what smell was like is fading. I can’t remember as clearly anymore. The scent/taste of my current nothingness is beginning to take over, and that’s really hard.

High: One of our doctors tried to play a prank on me with gag breath mints. Joke’s on him, it didn’t work. I told him I might have been sucking on Tylenol for all I knew. But my colleagues were not so lucky. Apparently, onion ring flavored breath mints are quite disgusting. In case you were curious.

People keep telling me they think I’m getting better. I’m glad they think so. But all it takes is for one of them to make me smell something for me to assure them that smell is not getting better. Yet. I always add in yet. Because there is always hope, even if they say there isn’t. What is getting better is my ability to understand and describe things. I am adapting. I am learning. So, really, I am getting better. Just not in the way they mean. But better is better, right? Of course, right.

Here’s a snippet from my new book, Season to Taste by Molly Birnbaum: “[Smell] doesn’t involve category or generality. Smell is such a different sense, because the molecules come into the body, and then they go out. You experience it immediately by its nature. To describe a smell, words are abstract. Smell is so particular—it’s the most particular configuration of molecules that makes coffee or body odor or acetone. No wonder it’s figurative most of the time.”

So true, my friends. So true. Read the book. It's amazing. And no one is paying me for saying that.
But maybe they should...

I'm Going On An Adventure

It is in my nature to make things seem like less of a problem than what they are, that everything is all right, that I’m fine, that no one needs to worry. I get it from my parents. We’re of the “I can do this, it’s my problem, push through” mentality. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think it’s quite a good thing.
The problem comes when others assume that because we are dealing with this, because we seem to be “handling it so well”, that it’s not actually a problem.
That is not the truth.
As it is with most things in life, our struggles are personal and internal. No one can see them or know of the battle that we wage through them. It’s true with everyone and every problem, no matter what it is.
I had someone say to me recently “You can’t smell anymore? Oh, that’s not that bad.”
Now, I’m not one to broadcast problems or to dramatically wallow for the public in my despair—at least I hope that’s how I come across, it’s what I aim for, at any rate—but that just got to me. Not that bad? Because I can smile and laugh about it? Because the jokes are funny now? Because I’m not locking myself in my bedroom and refusing food or friends?
This is HARD. I don’t want to make it seem worse than it is, because, yes, it could be worse. Just about anything could be worse if you think about it long enough. But one of my favorite people on the planet once said, “Nothing is so bad that whining about it won’t make it worse.” So I don’t whine about it. Well, unless you’re my mom [Sorry, Mom!], in which case you know you’re about to be sainted anyway, so it’s not so bad.
But just because I keep my hard moments for private times, because I still smile and push through, because I am trying to make the best of it, does not mean this is easy.
I’ve lost one of my senses. For whatever length of time God sees fit. Only He knows when/if it will be restored to me. Not even my doctors can tell me that. Could it be worse? Of course! But does that mean this isn’t hard? NO! This is hard. This hurts sometimes. This is sad sometimes. This really sucks sometimes.
But I am choosing, for the most part, to not dwell on those things. Because it could get to me. I know myself well enough to know that I could easily get carried away in how overwhelming this is and letting myself go to dark places AND STAYING THERE would be very detrimental to trying to live in my new world. I’m allowed to have my emotions, good and bad. We all are. What matters is where we choose to live. How we choose to spend each day. And I am not talking about residential markets or extracurricular activities.
I choose not to live in a dark place. I choose light. That doesn’t mean there aren’t clouds. Sometimes light is work. I choose to spend my time learning about the new me, my “new normal”, rather than mourning for what I used to have and be. Doesn’t mean I don’t have moments of regret or pangs of longing. I just don’t stay there. I can’t. I want more than that.
I want more for me.
I have a life to live, we all do. And we deserve to live it. Not just endure it. But LIVE.
Could it be worse? Absolutely. I know very well that I am blessed beyond measure and in the grand scope, this isn’t much at all.
But understand this: Just because it could be worse does not mean it isn’t hard.
It is.
I called this blog “Scentless Adventures” because I want to see this as an adventure. Our lives are filled with adventures, if we will consider them as such. But what adventure, in any story, started out because of something awesome? Most of the time, it was something bad that needed to be fixed and one person was brave enough, bold enough, or sometimes unlucky enough, to step forward and say “I’ll try.” And there are bumps in the road, bruises that we receive, thunderstorms and fire-breathing dragons and sometimes flying monkeys. When the adventure is over, when victory is had, does everything go back to the way it was? No. It can’t. Everything is different. Including the hero. But that adventure, that problem, has been conquered because of the change.
It takes time, it takes learning, it takes those bumps and bruises and storms and fire-breathing dragons and flying monkeys, it takes work and effort and bravery to change. To adapt. To become strong enough to vanquish whatever battle we face.
What adventure is successful if the supposed would-be hero decides to do nothing except cower in the face of the path before him? What victory can be had if he or she sits down and cries “It’s impossible, I can’t do it”? What change can come, what improvements can be made, if that person doesn’t move? So the choice we have is to be the hero and face it, or sit down and wallow. The fear is the same. The uncertainty is the same. The task is the same. What is different is what we do about it.
Be the hero of your adventure. Dark moments will come, and you are allowed to have them. But don’t park yourself within the darkness and say “This looks like a good spot to stay.” Get out of them. Ride them out. Realize that what you are doing is hard, and you are not weak for feeling that way. Then pick yourself up, get back on the road, and say, “Okay. What’s next?”
This is hard. I have a lot of fear and uncertainty. But I also have hope. Hope that this won’t be so weird someday. Hope that I’ll learn how to love my new life. Hope that maybe this won’t last forever. But even if it does, I have hope that it will be okay.
There’s a lot still to learn and experience, and that is both exciting and scary. Adventures are both exciting and scary. This is my adventure. And I’m hoping that when it’s all over, when I have conquered this mountain, He will be proud of the warrior I’ve become. And so will I.

High: Everybody was complaining today about the painting going on in the building because it smelled so much. I didn’t smell a thing. It was great.

Low: Peanut butter. You would think it would taste more like nuts, which I can still enjoy, in a weird way, but it’s not. It’s thick and gunky and has a nutty-like grit of flavor, but all in all, it kinda made me nauseous. I’m thinking of having a moment of silence for that one.

High: I’m expecting some new books any day now that are specifically about smelling disorders and recipes for those who struggle with them. I’m excited to learn more about the “what” I’ve got and the “how” to enjoy it more!

Heavy stuff today, and I’m sorry for that. It just needed to be said. I promise to keep those days minimal, because nobody wants to hear that. Here’s a fun factoid that I picked up from the excerpt of one of the books I’m getting: people with smelling disorders generally have to watch out for 3 things. 1) Decreased appetite. [Check.] 2) Weight loss. [Check.] 3) Too much salt and too much sugar in the diet. [Holy crap…..check….] I didn’t even think about it, but #3 was TOTALLY happening to me. It makes sense, salty and sweet are two of the only things I can tell about foods these days. So I eat a lot of it. Whoops…. Here’s to learning about other stuff I can go for so I don’t end up a scrawny diabetic with high cholesterol!

Air and such

Okay, let’s have a chat.
Adaptation is not an easy thing. I don’t care if it’s moving somewhere, dealing with an injury, or losing a sense. Everything is weird and just when you think you’ve got it, something else changes and it’s weird again.
I spent 10 days out in fresh air and experiencing the world in a brand new way, and it was invigorating and refreshing and awesome. Strange, but awesome.
Back to the grindstone today, and, to be expected, I am experiencing some new things. But not so refreshing.
We’ve talked about how I’ve gotten more sensitive in other respects because of the adaptations, but here’s one I didn’t expect.
Air. I have had to adapt to air. Because air doesn’t smell now, all I’ve got is the texture of the air and the temperature of it. And let me tell you, my sinuses and head are going crazy today. The air in my office is as stale as old bread, and I had no idea it was like that, let alone that it would bother me. But it does! I have had a headache all day [don’t get excited, that’s not for pity] and I couldn’t figure it out. Then I went outside to get something from my car, and ohhhhhhh the air felt so good. It tasted good [weird, I know], it felt good in my nose, and breathing it was just so good. And my headache was gone.
The moment I went back inside? Stifling, hot, pressure, nasal passages closing up, and headache came right back, sinuses blaring like foghorns.
Truly, the most bizarre realization ever.
Oddly enough, walking up to the pool deck didn’t affect me at all. Not particularly thick or muggy, but it didn’t take the headache away. Didn’t hurt as much, but not refreshing. I don’t know if it was the circulation at our pool, or what, because the pool in Austin didn’t affect me at all, but the pool at the fitness center at Lake Lure was bad.
Also the bus ride last night wasn’t super fun. Until he turned the air on and I had a nice blast of cycling air in my face. I’ve been told this makes sense, because even though I can’t smell, I still have my sinuses. I don’t even know what sinuses do, so that doesn’t help me overly much, but apparently it’s good I have them…?
So maybe I need air circulation or fresh air? Or maybe today’s just a strange day. Who knows. But air texture is an interesting new development.
High:  I’m getting better at flavors. It’s not the same as how it used to be, and that’s all fine and dandy, but if I can make differentiations in this new way? That’d be great.

Low: Stale air just makes the nasty smell/taste I live with [a sort of chalky, bitter-ish nothing] more pronounced. It’s awful, cuz everything has that taste/smell and no one needs more of it.

High: That first breath of fresh air this afternoon. It was seriously one of the most heavenly things ever. Maybe I’m getting an all-natural high off of nature?

So let’s see what tomorrow brings. And remind me to tell you what happens when I’ve had caffeine. Wowzers, that's fun when your senses are weird...