“Tip your server. Return your shopping cart. Pick up a piece of trash. Hold the door for the person behind you. Let someone into your lane. Small acts can have a ripple effect. That’s how we change the world.” ~ TinyBuddha
I keep trying to capture this scene on Limestone Street of First Presbyterian’s steeple, but I’ve yet to catch a shot I like. To be fair, I haven’t tried more than just walking by, so there’s that. Anyway, since this is not a shot I like, I’ll talk about my experience of having no taste or smell – the classic Covid-19 symptom. It’s not like when you think you can’t taste and smell when you have a cold. You can still taste and smell, it’s just that everything tastes and smells worse because of the congestion. My experience with Covid-19 is the absence of the ability to smell and taste – bad, good, or anything in between. I hadn’t noticed these senses had gone AWOL until Tuesday morning, three days into my fever. I’m not sure when I lost them. The last thing I remember sort of smelling was mom’s pot roast and potatoes on Sunday evening. It’s a very interesting sensation and not as freaky as I’d imagine it would be. I can tell when something is too salty or sweet, not by taste, but by how it feels in my jaws. I was craving a cheeseburger one day, so mom brought one for me. It was delicious, at least I think it was. It was as if I could really taste the cheesy, greasy goodness, but in reality, I couldn’t taste any of it. I could sure tell when I took that way-too-salty bite, though. That’s when I realized some of our taste must be related to memory, and some of it, like my reaction to that bite of extreme salt, really is a muscular reaction. I felt my jaws clench. On Thursday, I had a tiny piece of cheesecake. I began to salivate. I didn’t know I salivated when I ate sweets, but apparently, I do. Maybe we all do, I don’t know. Today, a week since I came down with a fever, I caught a whiff of the garbage when I took it out. This evening, I had pizza. I could smell the onions but couldn’t taste them, but I could taste the sauce. Seems a bit random to me, though food scientists could probably explain it. In any case, now, I’m looking forward to smelling the first fresh-cut grass of spring. I’m confident I will. I wouldn’t want to be one of those poor folks that never regain their sense of smell and taste. It gets a bit boring after a few days, although I absolutely do not miss the smell of the litter box. Nope. Don’t miss that.
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