Living with Anosmia: No Smell or Taste

The newest Covid-19 symptom is more serious than it sounds.

A loss of taste and smell. This is the strange new symptom that some diagnosed with Covid-19 are experiencing. Robert Roy Britt discusses it here.

My phone has been blowing up from friends linking me to articles about Covid-19 patients suddenly not able to smell or taste.

Because they remember all too well when this happened to me a few years ago.

While it might not seem like a big deal to lose those two senses (I mean, way easier than living without sight and hearing, no doubt), I spent three months spiraling into a depression, living in a world that I no longer understood.

The Back Story

I did it. I did what all moms dream of, but few achieve. I went away for four nights on a girls’ trip.

I escaped the whining, the tattling, the cooking, the homework, the monotony, the carpooling, the laundry, the fighting, and the relentless “MOMMY!”

I spent four days with the sun bronzing my skin, my toes in the powdery sand, sipping cocktails, reading novels, not Captain Underpants.

But I returned with a case of anosmia.

Anosmia is the complete loss of the sense of smell. It typically results from a head injury, a problem with the nasal passages, or a severe viral infection of the upper respiratory tract. -Medical News Today

Me? I had no head trauma (that I can recall) and I’m not really a sinus-y, allergy person. According to my ENT doctor, I flew home with a cold, and the pressure from the flight compacted the congestion high and tight, blocking my olfactory (scent) receptors. Great!

You subconsciously rely on certain places to smell as you expect. It brings an intimacy to familiar places and an understanding to new places.

I’m not going to lie, I spent those three months feeling really sorry for myself. I knew my sense of smell would return. The doctor said it could take up to three months.

I mean, just how compacted was this stuff in my face?

My doctor was right. Three months later, to the day, my smell and taste returned. Here is what it was like living with anosmia:

You Function With Only 3/5 of Your Senses

Let that sink in. Yes, I do believe that I would have received the sympathy I was seeking if I had lost my sight and hearing, but still.

We learn about our senses in Kindergarten. Why? Because they are important. All of them. It takes all five senses to experience the world around us.

Granted, you don’t necessarily taste every experience, but you smell your environment even when you’re not cognizant of it.

Right now, I am sitting writing this at my desk. I have a cup of coffee next to me. I just rubbed lavender lotion on my hands. There is a vase of flowers behind my laptop. I have chicken and garlic potatoes roasting in the kitchen.

However, with anosmia, I would smell nothing.

Close your eyes. You can get a feeling for what it’s like to be blind for a moment. Plug your ears. You can encounter the world with no sound. Both seem quite terrifying.

You Don’t Lose Your Sense of Taste, You Lose Your Sense of Flavor

I could distinguish between sweet, sour, salty, bitter and umami (savory) foods. But if you put a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth, I wouldn’t be able to determine its flavor.

Coffee tasted like a big, hot cup of bitter.

Chips were just crispy slabs of salt.

Hot sauce still packed a punch, but just in temperature.

Breads and pastas tasted like completely nothing.

Red wine still felt warm on the descent, but there was no difference between a Pinot Noir and a Syrah. I found myself more drawn to Prosecco or Champagne during my bout with anosmia. It was more three dimensional: I could see, hear, and feel the bubbles as I enjoyed a glass.

Cooking Became the Most Dreaded Task in My Life

I don’t love to cook. But I do it, several nights a week, to feed my family.

I love how the house fills with aromas: garlic simmering in a buttery sauce, fresh rolls baking in the oven, sautéed onions, and peppers sizzling in a pan.

I love trying a new recipe, watching my husband take seconds and sometimes thirds. It makes my begrudging efforts worth it.

But with anosmia? Cooking was not only unenjoyable but with me at the helm, it was downright hazardous.

I couldn’t smell if something was burning, so the smoke alarm became a common sound. I couldn’t smell rancid chicken or if the milk had turned.

I still, years later, have random spurts of sudden anxiety that the house is on fire and I can’t smell it. It’s almost like an anosmic PTSD.

When I was alone, I couldn’t tell if I’d properly turned off the burner and if gas was leaking.

I sat with my family and watched them eat the fruits of my labor, but the whole process leading up to eating filled me with anxiety and stress.

I Was Completely Unaware of My Personal Hygiene

You know that feeling when you just feel gross and need a shower? Well, I think that feeling comes from smell.

Because with anosmia, I always felt the same. My perception of my body scent was the same after the gym as it was after the shower.

I would lather myself up in the most delicious smelling soaps and shampoos, but I exited the shower feeling exactly like I did when I entered, just wet.

Deodorant had no scent. Perfume, lotion, hairspray, nada, zip, niente.

A world without smell and taste doesn’t seem like a big deal. It doesn’t require learning sign language or braille.

I could no longer smell the pits of a shirt to determine whether it should be hung back up, or thrown in the hamper.

I never had a bad taste in my mouth, so I often forgot if I’d brushed my teeth. I had to feel the bristles of my toothbrush to confirm.

Conversely, I was also unaware of the hygiene of others. I didn’t miss my husband’s farts, but I did miss the smell of my sweaty, stinky little boys when they’d come inside, red-faced and glistening, smelling of grass, earth, and childhood.

New research reveals the impact of smell loss. As many as one in 20 people live without smell. But until now there has been little research into the range of emotional and practical impacts it causes. The new study finds that almost every aspect of life is disrupted — from everyday concerns about personal hygiene to a loss of sexual intimacy and the break-down of personal relationships.

Surprisingly, I Did Have Food Preferences

You’d think with no sense of taste I would be guzzling down kale salads and salmon, or do Keto, or Atkins, or Paleo, or Mediterranean, or Zone, or vegan or intermittent fasting, or whatever.

But the truth was, the comfort foods that I used to turn to still brought me comfort with anosmia. And I needed comfort more than ever.

I became comforted by how food looked, how it felt in my hands, and how it felt in my mouth as I chewed. It was a different type of comfort, so I was able to have more willpower with tempting foods.

We went to a communion party a few days after developing anosmia. There was a huge spread of baked ziti, pizza, chicken, lasagna, and a salad. I was hungry, so I loaded my plate up with everything, minus the salad.

It was then I realized that I was craving comfort, not necessarily nutrition.

Restaurants Became Pointless

Not like this will matter currently to the anosmatic Covid-19 sufferers since restaurants are all closed, but they were open when I had it. And, it was summertime so life was buzzing and social.

The only plus about restaurants with anosmia is that it got me out of cooking.

My husband and I went to a restaurant. He asked if I wanted to share an appetizer. I told him I’d have a bite of whatever he chose because it doesn’t matter.

And that’s the thing. . . it really didn’t matter. I didn’t care if it was wings or sushi, I only felt the texture. This made choosing my own meals tricky. I didn’t want to spend $30 on an entrée that I wouldn’t even taste, but I didn’t want to just have wine and the breadbasket.

I usually ended up with a hearty soup, because soup in itself is an experience. It’s steaming. There’s the process of scooping, blowing, slurping. It can take as long to eat as your tablemates’ entrées, and I’m quite satisfied when I’m done without being unnecessarily stuffed by a bellyful of tasteless gorging.

Nobody Can Truly Sympathize

Close your eyes. You can get a feeling for what it’s like to be blind for a moment. Plug your ears. You can encounter the world with no sound. Both seem quite terrifying.

A world without smell and taste doesn’t seem like a big deal. It doesn’t require learning sign language or braille.

I didn’t have to rely on others for my physical safety. On the outside, it really didn’t have much effect at all on my day to day life. Which leads me to. . .

We Don’t Realize How Much Smell Affects Our Experiences

I realize that those with Covid-19 induced anosmia can’t really experience much right now anyway due to the lockdown, but who knows how long it will last for them?

It’s nothing that I can pinpoint, but it dominated my life.

It’s not a thing; it was a lack of something.

When you go anywhere, scent is the first thing that hits you: your house, your car, your bed, the outside, the bakery, the movies, the gym, the library, the pizzeria.

You subconsciously rely on certain places to smell as you expect. It brings an intimacy to familiar places and an understanding to new places.

While I couldn’t smell anything, something in my brain knew it was lacking a signal. My brain knew that my world was not being completely experienced.

It left me feeling almost loopy, distant, and melancholy.

It Decreased My Libido — A Lot

My once healthy sex life became a mere afterthought. Desire was never on my mind. My husband had to remind me that it had been a while. I simply didn’t want it. Or need it.

I couldn’t smell my husband’s scent, so I didn’t lust after him.

I couldn’t taste the taste of his skin or his mouth. It was like I was having sex with nobody.

Research does show that those with anosmia do suffer sexually. There is a link between desire and odor.

This created tension in our marriage. I felt like I was failing as a wife and that he was constantly disappointed with my unhappy mood and lack of sex drive. It created a new distance, a disconnection that had never existed in our marriage.

All I wanted was sympathy for these symptoms invisible to him, yet all I felt was shame for disappointing him.

Smell and Taste Are a Huge Part of Social Interaction

You don’t realize how much smell and taste come up in conversation until you can no longer contribute to the dialogue.

Topics such as new, trendy restaurants, recipes, and coffee shops.

I was in my hair salon (and smelled nothing when I entered) and I heard various people discussing the fragrance of a new product line. I saw an employee walk by with take-out food and the stylists’ stomachs started growling.

But, I was undoubtedly disconnected. I was disconnected from the life I used to live because this world was now different.

My husband texted me asking what I wanted to do for dinner. I was offered a glass of wine and asked if I preferred red or white. I used to have a preference, but I just replied, “Whatever’s open.”

Our town’s farmers market began, so the topic at Little League was everyone’s favorite vendors and what goodies they sell. I tried to contribute with humor, imitating a Debbie Downer voice. But honestly, I felt like an imposter. An outcast.

I Can See How Anosmia Can Lead to Depression

Although I knew my anosmia was temporary, I struggled to see the bright side.

For some people, the diagnosis is permanent if the olfactory nerve is damaged. Others can be born with it.

Anosmia affects a person’s ability to enjoy food and drink and may result in decreased appetite, weight loss, and too much added sugar and salt in the diet. In severe cases, anosmia can lead to depression. It an also interfere with personal safety, limiting the ability to notice smoke and potentially harmful chemicals and gases.

I felt fleeting moments of resentment, isolation, and desperation. I had moments of panic like, “Holy s****, what if this is permanent?”

But, I was undoubtedly disconnected. I was disconnected from the life I used to live because this world was now different.

My brain (lacking two senses) interpreted the world differently. And it wasn’t as colorful, or even meaningful.

Any loss takes a period of adjustment: losing a finger, a loved one, a head of hair.

Anosmia is a loss, no matter how you slice it. For the most part, I accepted my loss, as I knew it would return. But some moments I did get stuck in denial or anger.

So, was the girls’ trip worth it?

It depends if I’m asked in front of a screaming child, or a platter of tacos.

Emme Beckett is a Top Writer in Parenting. She has been featured in The Bad Influence, The Haven, Fearless She Wrote, The Ascent, Live Your Life on Purpose, The Post-Grad Survival Guide, Home Sweet Home, ILLUMINATION and A Few Words.