I was born without a real sense of smell. I used to joke that my Mom had an amazing sniffer and a horrible memory while my Dad had a horrible sense of smell and an amazing memory. I got jipped because I got the bad nose and the bad memory.
I didn't realize how many things smelled until I lived with a roommate who commented on smells she loved. Most people don't talk about their love for so many smells.
Rain smells?
Dirt and grass? Are they good or bad smells?
Skunks and Tuna Fish doNOT smell the same to everyone? (They do to my dad and me. I only know it is a skunk if I'm on the road and tuna fish is in the kitchen. If there was ever a skunk in a kitchen, it would entirely throw me off).
Flowers, however, I knew smelled. I've just never smelled one. Sometimes I ask people to describe smells, but usually it just falls flat. I'm okay with it because I've never known anything different.
Some say it's a blessing and others call it a curse. Some may add it to my list of disabilities. I just call it a lack of whiff-ability. However, apparently there is a legitimate medical term for being born without a real sense of smell. A sickness led me to a fantastic ENT (and office staff) who led me to the real term:
Congenital Anosmia
{Side note: Now that my face has changed, it's harder for me to feel how much my sinus infections have progressed. Recently I could feel a sinus infection coming on and unsuccessfully tried getting in with my family doctor. I didn't want it to progress quickly and follow the same path of Urgent Care doctor--> minimal prescription--> "wait a week"--> admitted to the hospital with a failed lumbar puncture and 4 days of IV steroids/antibiotics, like last time. The increase in pressure is also much harder on me with anesthesia dolorosa. Thankfully, I got in with a wonderful ENT (and amazing nurses/assistants) and got it cleared up quickly. My first visit was a bit of a blur. I had flashbacks from waking up in my surgery because I did a CT scan before I met with the doctor. I cried silently and swiftly wiped away my tears. But I couldn't stop shaking. It was hard to focus on the doctor. He showed me I have a deviated septum and even though he didn't mention surgery at all, my mind immediately went there. Nooooo. I also mentioned that I didn't hear as well out of my right ear after my surgery. I didn't delve into the details, because honestly I just wanted to leave the office (PTSD).
Immediately after my minor brain surgery I felt like an ice pick was being shoved down my ear. I couldn't hear as well and always felt like I needed to pop my ear. When I'd visited the Urgent Care for my cough, the week after surgery, she mentioned that I had a Eustachian tube dysfunction and it should return to normal after my sickness passed. (The next week I had developed pneumonia, UTI, and a sinus infection, which led me to a relaxing, extended stay at the KU hospital. At the time I only knew I had a cough and couldn't tell the other infections spread. I get sinus infections several times every year, but all I knew after the surgery was that I coughed and passed out a few times. Oh, and I was slowly being tortured to death. But the regular ol' sinus infection wasn't anywhere near my radar).
My sickness passed, but the need to pop my ear lasted for about 6 months. (It popped for a minute or two on the airplane in March, but didn't last). In that amount of time my hearing has come back, but not fully. I worry with MS exacerbations that new issues become permanent disabilities. I always have buzzing/ringing in my ears (19 years) and when my MS gets worse, my hearing can come and go or the ringing increases significantly in either ear. However, since my surgery it is primarily in my right ear.
Thankfully my incredible ENT scheduled a hearing test and a follow up. Even though I struggled a bit, it was nothing compared to the first visit. I met some awesome workers and found that my left ear is EXCEPTIONAL and my right ear is VERY GOOD. Both are in great range, but my right is slightly less perceptive. My right ear used to be my better ear, but because of my MS and worse neuralgia on that side, it is the one that reacts worse. My pains have simply increased and it's just a small part of it all. Nevertheless, I found out my deviated septum is not significant, it isn't related to my lack of smell, and there's a name for my sad lil sniffer.}
Are side notes allowed to be that LOOOONG?
Lately I've been a bit obsessed with BUTTERFLIES. I've joked that I'm in my cocoon phase. I started as more of a caterpillar. Too many rolls and at first glance it looks like I have a few too many legs (with my walker). And then my failed little surgery put me in a dark place with a whole lot of transformation. I haven't escaped yet or risen in the least. But, I like the idea that I can morph into something beautiful. Eventually.
I can't smell the roses and I've been forced to STOP more times than I'd like to count. But at least I can look for the roses and find the incredible creatures God had created as a reminder that darkness lifts, beauty prevails, and we will eventually rise.
Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.
