Lemons & Peppermint & Monkeys

For a couple of weeks, every time I inhaled there was a strange indiscernible scent that seemed to be made up of pipe tobacco, children’s socks (after playing outside on a cool summer’s eve) and something that was a slightly burnt/acidic chemical.  Every time I inhaled–no matter what time of day or night, I was plagued with this scent; it became a little maddening. This scent translated to taste which resulted in Diet Pepsi tasting like a horrible mix of chemicals; which also happened with other foods that contained chemicals (nitrates too).  Needless to say, my diet is becoming very ‘clean’–I love the taste of milk and water.
     Earlier this week I had cut up a bag of lemons, left the area and when I passed by the container I smelled a whiff of lemon.  I stuck my schnozzola in the container but couldn’t smell a thing.  Today, when I drew a peppermint spa bath, I was amazed that for several seconds I could smell the refreshing scent, but it didn’t last. Several times this past week at work, colleagues have commented about overwhelming scents of: bacon, air freshener and scorched brownies, but I didn’t smell a thing.  However, I am hopeful, in the message boards I’ve read, this is the road to recovery.  The scent du jour is a warm, sweet vanilla cream, which is nice, but a bit weird when it intermingles with the taste of pollack, pizza or potato soup.  
     When I couldn’t smell anything, I entertained the idea of a smelling nose dog.  Then I had a lightbulb moment that would help my cause and catapult my ‘favorite aunt’ status to the number one position for a long time: a service monkey!  He could use those opposable thumbs to give me an ‘up’ or ‘down’ based on the smell, or clean out the fridge or take out the trash (or do my nails).  I planned to make him a really stylin’ ‘service vest’, not so glitzy that he’d be embarrassed to go out or  vengeful and give me the incorrect signals so I would end up drinking ‘cottage cheese milk’, but stylin’ so he’d want to go out, and maybe a jaunty little ‘service hat’ to add to his look.  Then I read what service monkeys do for people confined to wheelchairs, and the monkeys are pretty pricey and they aren’t allowed by food because it’s too much of a temptation.  Yikes–anosmia, dysosmia, phantosmia and parosmia seem trivial when compared to quadriplegia or paraplegia.

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