I am anosmic. The word is Greek and
translates to “without smell”. Anosmic is the term used to
describe people who have no sense of smell. For a long time, I
thought I was born anosmic. I hadn't been completely convinced of
this fact, because I do have the memory of one single odor. It is
the smell of cherry cough syrup. That's probably not the best memory
to hold, but it is the only smell that I do think have. Given the
fact that I recall this smell, it is possible that I had a sense of
smell at one point in time. When did this change? I do not know.
How did this change? I have a theory.
I don't know when I discovered I have
no sense of smell. I don't even know when I came to recognize the
fact that I lacked a sense other people had. What I have, instead,
are three stories about my sense of smell from my childhood. I also
have my experiences living without this one sense and the
interactions and complications that I have run into with this smell.
And, I have my own personal response to common questions or
statements I hear.
My earliest memory involving the sense
of smell is a very short picture. I remember having a set of scratch
and sniff stickers. The stickers, I believe, were fruit shaped. I
tried scratching them and sniffing them. I didn't notice anything
different. I tried other stickers and came to the same conclusion.
My mom, I believe tested them and confirmed they did actually work.
I tried again and gave up. In my childlike mind, I could not grasp
that it was me, not the stickers that were broken.
My next memory has a little bit more
detail to it. I was in the fifth grade in Mrs. Murphy's class. The
class was studying the five senses. I remember volunteering to the
class that I had no sense of smell. Mrs. Murphy actually tested this
in front of the class. I was blindfolded and different foods were
held beneath my nose. I couldn't even tell that something was
underneath my nose, let alone identify a smell to them.
My other memory is more of a story. I
was a teenager and I was vacuuming the living room. My mom came
racing into the room in a panic. And had me shut off the vacuum
cleaner. I had no idea what the alarm was about. Well, as it
happened, the rubber belt to the vacuum cleaner had slipped loose.
The vacuum cleaner was creating a lot of friction on the rubber,
making the entire house smell of burnt rubber. My mom, realizing I
had no idea this had happened, turned to me and said, “You really
don't have a sense of smell, do you?”
The last story is important, because it
is an echo in my life. Smell is both a major part of our world, and
something overlooked. On one hand, I'm lucky with my disability.
The impairment is both minor and inobvious. People can be horrible
or idiotic when dealing with people with disabilities. I have
witnessed first hand on numerous occasions the offensive behaviors
from members of our society. I've been lucky in that I've never had
to experience those behaviors. On the other hand, my disability has
the drawback of being both minor and inobvious.
My mom's statement is a perfect example
of the minor drawback. She forgot. Everyone forgets. My sister
over Christmas, who has known me for her entire life, forgot.
Everyone forgets that I have a sense of smell. I absolutely hate
having to remind people. If I had a five dollar bill every time
someone asked me, “What's that smell?” I'd own my own personal
elephant with a private elephant trainer.
People forgetting I don't have a sense
of smell isn't that big of an issue. It certainly isn't my biggest
annoyance. That is reserved for people who are trying to sell
products with an odor to them. You might find these people annoying
too, but take this from the stand point from someone without a sense
of smell. Imagine walking into Best Buy and having a salesperson
shove a DVD within inches of your face. Now imagine going into
Target and having a salesperson spraying jets of mist in your
direction that only make your throat choke.
You see, there is something I didn't
know about my sense of smell. Smell comes from two sources. There
is the olfactory gland and the nervous system. The olfactory gland
processes the smaller odors and transmits the signals to the brain.
This gives you the different scents you come to know. The nervous
system gets larger particles and transmits directly to the brain. My
olfactory gland does not work, but my nervous system does. For me
smell functions like this. Air is clean and crisp or air is thick.
Candle stores, perfume shops, and those annoying “smell this”
vendors don't produce positive smells. They make my breathing clench
up.
FAQ Time!
First common statement: “Can you
taste food?”
Answer: Yes. I can taste food and I
enjoy a wide variety of foods. Most of what makes my food experience
different from yours, is your ability to smell the seasonings and
spices of the food. I can taste some spices in my meals, but not all
of them. Which, in my opinion, tells me that some spices don't
actually add taste to food. The reason why your food experience
changes when you're sick, is because you are used to having the smell
and taste blend together. I am not.
Second common statement: “That must
be nice, not being able to smell XXXX.”
Answer: Thank you for pointing that out. I
never realized that before that moment. Yes, the world has a wide
variety of smells that are horrific, or at least I'm told. At the
same time, I'm missing all of the smells of the world that aren't
horrific. And, if that isn't enough, smell can invoke memories.
That's something I'll never, ever be able to do.
Third common statement: “Are you
sure?” or “How do you know?”
Answer: Yes, I've gone 33 years of my life and
just haven't sniffed the right odor yet. There is no response to
this question and yet I hear it a lot.
