I lost my sense of smell yesterday
the disappointment of getting Covid for the 1st time, the recall of anticipatory grief, and a quiet, delirious hymn sing
Covid came to call this week. She brought ‘the throat’ and that incessant kind of low grade fever and headaches that Tylenol refused to help, all wrapped up in a heavy fatigue.
Most of you know exactly what I’m talking about. And many of you have experienced far worse and have your own stories to tell.
From time to time during the past few years, I’d tell my husband that I didn’t know anyone else who hadn’t had Covid. I’d been quite thankful and relieved (proud?) that I’d been spared because I’d been hospitalized with a couple of pulmonary embolisms (which felt like a heart attack) right before Covid came on the scene 4 years ago and I was concerned how my lungs would respond if I got it.
I was religious about vaccines and masks and all the things, ultra-vigilant to stay healthy, not only for myself but even more so for my Mom’s sake when she was alive.
But that’s a whole other story, a traumatic saga of anticipatory grief that left me with a shattered heart and sky-high anxiety from living on high alert for far too long.
It hit me yesterday that I had lost my sense of smell. And for some reason that’s really knocked me sideways.
I never imagined what it’d be like not to be able to … well … smell. I tried to inhale the scent of my favorite lavender lotion to be met with, well … nothing. It was a surreal experience. I felt a sadness wash over me that’s hard to put into words.
I opened the vanilla bean bottle and the same. Nothing. I headed downstairs and stuck my nose into the (unlit thank you very much) cranberry chutney Yankee candle. No dice. Brownies baking in the oven? Nada. His coffee brewing? Nope. Chicken and rice simmering on the stove? Zilch.
So it is what it is and all will be well, scent or no scent. A good night of sleep does wonders in recalibrating our thoughts. The writer of Lamentations reminds us that His mercies are new every morning (chapter 3). Ain’t that the truth.
But one thing I’ll remember is the night that my pounding head felt like a concrete bowling ball, the fever blooming, and all I could do to take refuge from Covid’s attack was to curl up with a cold washcloth on my face and sing very quietly in my soul. Every verse of every old hymn that the Spirit brought to mind. It was a sweet time for me, if maybe a bit delirious one. I felt deeply enveloped in the precious love of God and amazed at how good He was to bring those beautifully familiar words to me right when I needed to be focused on who He is … and not what I was experiencing.
‘All may change, but Jesus, never. Glory to His name.’
Linda
You can share your Covid stories with me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to listen. To commiserate. To encourage.
Bless your dear heart. I am so sorry. I do hope you are feeling so much better now. May Jesus lay His precious healing hand on you and restore everything you have lost. Love you, sweet friend.
I'm so sorry, Linda. I hope you're feeling better now. I had not had Covid, either, until January when I went to the ER for cellulitis and tested positive for Covid two days later at the doctor's office. Since I was only two days in and had other risk factors, he started me on antivirals. I don't know if it was that or I just had a mild case, but my Covid was basically felt like a cold. My husband caught it as well and had a much worse case than I did. I tried to talk him into asking about antivirals, but he didn't want to.
I didn't lose my sense of smell, but my tastes were off. Things that I normally like were revolting to me. But that may have been due to the three antibiotics I was taking for the cellulitis. They really did a number on my digestive system that took a long time and bunches of probiotics to get back into balance. I lost 15 lbs. in January.
Thankfully February has been better for us! I hope March will be better for you and your sense of smell comes back.
Barbara H.