Showing posts with label sinusitis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sinusitis. Show all posts

Sunday, November 17, 2013

I'm Smell Blind



Several weeks ago, I realized I couldn’t smell. It wasn’t something I really noticed until I visited a fudge shop in Helen Ga. Helen is a quaint German town nestled in the GA mountains, where else would you go for Oktoberfest?
I was very excited to visit with my family and as always, our first stop: the fudge shop. The small shop was lined with people and we squished our way in. My sons wife, Tamara, grabbed my arm and says “Oh my God! It smells so good in here!”
I sniffed.
“I don’t smell anything.”
She looks at me like I’m crazy. “You can’t smell the cocoa?”
“I can’t smell anything.”
And for the first time, I bought no fudge. Not even a sample, I didn’t have the craving for it.
Since then, I began to ponder when I had stopped smelling. Everything smells like normal. All the time.
How long has this been going on? All the times I had sniffed my laundry, or previously worn clothing and came away satisfied. Now I wonder. Did they stink? Do I stink?
Showering has become an obsession for me, as well as doing laundry.
Cooking is a challenge. I have to constantly watch the stove because I can’t smell when the food is close to being done or burning.  
Walking the dog has been a pleasure. Picking up poop is no problem without the odor.
The hardest part I guess is my family, they are constantly “testing” me.
From holding fresh bags of coffee under my nose, to steaming cups of herbal tea. No. I don’t smell it.
No fresh baked cookies, or bacon, or the gift on the floor the dog left.
My helpful friends: “You know that’s a sign of Alzheimers.” If I didn’t have sinus problems, I would be more worried. Even after sinus surgery several years ago, I am still snotty.
One side effect is I have no cravings for food. I don’t smell the awesomeness of food, so I am eating less and only when I am hungry. Best diet ever.
The downfall, walking through the mall looking for Christmas gifts. Choosing scented candles by color or description. My son likes cologne and I can’t smell them. I can still picture the blank stare I have received from the sales clerk armed with a spray bottle when I informed her I was smell blind.
The term smell blind is not my own, it is a quote from the movie “Walk Hard.” My son declared me smell blind when I relayed my odd symptoms to him. In a crazy sort of way, it fits.
Is this permanent? Too soon to tell, but apparently, many people have this problem. Some have never been able to smell.

Maybe we should start a club.