I notice it first when I go outside for the first time in days to see if my roses are blooming, and notice they have no smell. Strange, they had smelled lovely earlier in the summer. What a shame, I guess autumn roses just don’t smell as much as summer ones do?
I go back inside and don’t think of it again until I’m unpacking groceries. I’d ordered only a few, thinking I’ll make chicken stock so I can make the homemade chicken and vegetable soup I’ve been craving since learning I have covid 19. I put chicken wings, carrots, onions and garlic next to my instant pot, along with some celery and thyme, and pull out a scented candle I’d included in my order. Just for a little treat. A little pumpkin shaped thing, purporting to smell like woodsmoke. I take the card stock seal from the top and sniff. Nothing. What a disappointment! But now I’m a little suspicious. I pick up another nearby candle and smell that, too. It has a scent, but more faint than it had been days earlier. I text Kurt, “I feel like my sense of smell is fading.” No response. I go into the kitchen to find something for lunch. The lentil soup in the fridge smells good. Ok. So it’s not totally gone. I heat it up and sit to eat. Delicious! Ok, at least I still have THAT. I go lie down
When I get up to make the focaccia I’ve been craving, there’s a package of chocolate chip cookies on the stove. I snag one as I’m putting the lid on the bowl of dough and turn to put it in the fridge, then stop. What do these taste like? I probe at the cookie in my mouth with my tongue. Is there no chocolate in this one? I grab the box and hunt for the cookie with the most chocolate chips in it and pop that one into my mouth.
Nothing.
Sigh.
I strain the chicken stock and put it into the fridge to cool. It’s so strange, I can feel the steam going into my nose as I sniff hopefully at it, but it might as well just be hot water. Kurt later assures me that it smells great, which gives me a really interesting mix of, oh good! And also, what the fuck. On a random inspiration, I try a tiny sprinkle of kosher salt, and can taste it. I try some hot sauce that I can’t normally taste anyway (too spicy), and can’t taste it (though it burns my tongue a little bit). Interesting.
I pour myself some leftover gazpacho for dinner and it’s the strangest eating experience of my life. Not to toot my own horn, but I make excellent gazpacho. Full of delicious flavor. This, though? It’s difficult to even think of how to describe it. It’s like it’s all wrapped in Saran Wrap or something. Maybe this is what it would be like to unknowingly eat a piece of bubble wrap? It’s basically just cold crunchy wet bits swimming in thick cold liquid. Maybe I’m about to become very aware of texture?
I text Palmer to tell him. “You’re behind the glass!” He says, referencing an episode of The Daily about people with no sense of smell that we had discussed in summer of 2021. I do some googling as I eat, and see that I’m likely to get these senses back in a few weeks, though it could be more like months, and in some cases, years. Oh, God, can I do this for years? I try a pretzel rod and it probably just tastes like salt but it’s so nice to have any flavor at all. I read that some people say temperature can make a difference, that hot or cold things can hold more taste than room temperature things. I try a strawberry fruit bar and can taste something! It’s mild, but it’s a flavor and I’m so happy. Green grapes from the fridge almost taste like normal. Hooray!
I grind unscented (to me) coffee beans and set a timer on the coffee pot—maybe this is when I start liking my coffee black? That would be kind of cool.
I do some more half hearted research and head to bed. NyQuil still tastes awful, so I guess there’s that.
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