So close I can...taste it??

You know, I have had many colds in my life.  I have been an allergy sufferer since I was old enough to say the word allergy. I am the queen of sinus headaches. None of these things are new to me. And on rare occasions, I have a cold/allergy attack/sinus infection that is so harsh that I lose my taste for a day or two. And those two days are the longest, most miserable days, with time spent willing myself into breathing, tasting, or smelling anything. Then, magically, I take my medicine; drink plenty of fluids, rest until I can’t rest anymore, and my taste returns. The world is right-side up once again.

So. WHY ISN’T THAT HAPPENING NOW?!?!?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But seriously. It has been almost FOUR MONTHS since I have smelled or tasted. And at first, it was annoying. Then I actually went through a small phase of anger. And now? Depression has set in. Y’all, I’m serious when I say I am actually really, really sad about this. I am a southern girl. A big, hearty, sassy southern girl who was raised in a family where Sunday isn’t Sunday without roast beef, and chicken isn’t chicken unless it’s fried. Raised to know that when I go to a restaurant and order a sweet tea and the waitress says, “Is Unsweet okay?” then I assume there is a conspiracy theory taking place and I must vacate immediately.

Being diagnosed as diabetic this past year, I certainly have already come to terms with my eating habits. I’ve learned that no, drinking a pitcher of sweet tea on Sunday to wash down momma’s apple pie is no longer a past time I can enjoy. But I CAN still eat, I can still enjoy my momma’s cooking, and I can learn to control my portions. All of this I have done, like a champ! I am the portion control queen now. I read every label of every food I eat to determine what a proper serving is. For example:

1        1. Did you know that a serving size of Doritos is 11 chips? ELEVEN!! Hahahahahaha No, seriously. They put it on the bag y’all.

2   2.     A proper serving size of pasta is 1 cup, COOKED. Not an entire plate full, covered in parmesean and mozzarella and meatballs. Nope. Just one little scoop basically.

3   3.  I can have ONE slice of pizza and it’s 30g carbs. That’s half my allotted carb intake for an entire meal.

Now yes, I realize that the items listed above are all carb heavy no-no’s, so I eat them few and far between. But those are the types of food I have to measure. I mean, there really is no need to measure out my grilled chicken and broccoli,  just eat the crap out of it and assume you just lost a pound (if nothing else you’ll lose a pound in tears when you cry an hour later  because you’re starving. Preach. #reallife)

So yes, I’ve changed my relationship with food. I’ve lost 40 pounds, and since I’ve been pregnant I’ve lost 7 more, and that is awesome! But now, for four long, dreary months, in addition to my nice portion controlled eating, I have completely lost all sense of taste and smell. So the few, small enjoyments I get from food are now gone. Just…gone. And I am sad.

I am still having cravings. I am fully convinced this child controls both my appetite and my food selection, and I will never believe otherwise. When I am opposed to eating something, it goes from, “That doesn’t sound good right now” to simply seeing a picture of said food and going, “HOLY MOTHER OF….*gag*”. 

My cravings work the same way. I go from, “Hmm, this sounds good for dinner babe!” to “STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING RIGHT NOW AND DRIVE TO KROGER AND BUY MY GRAHAM CRACKERS OR I WILL SUFFOCATE YOU IN YOUR SLEEP” 

So imagine what it feels like to bite into said food, and get no satisfaction. I get no, “Mmm that is SO good! Just what I wanted!” and instead am left with, “I’m sorry, I just drank a glass of water and it tasted exactly the same as this cheeseburger, so I’m going to go cry now.”

And when I say I can’t smell, I truly mean I cannot smell. I have shoved my nose into bottles of hot sauce, containers of Vick’s Vapor Rub, and jars of Cayenne pepper. Nothing. Not even a good ol’ fashioned eye watering.

The other day I spent a good long while making a nice yummy fall dinner for my hubby and I. I made Perogi casserole and Apple Spice Cake. I let it simmer in the crock pot all day, and when I got home from work all I wanted was to walk in and be hit in the face with that slap yo’momma amazing smell of Fall goodness. Nothing. If I hadn’t personally turned on the crockpot, I would have had no idea that there was even food in my house. So you can imagine my disdain when my hubby later dubbed this as the best dessert he has ever had in his life and how he wants this to be fed to him before he dies, and all I could do was sit there and sip my water and nibble on the apples that tasted like…well, water.

I’m not seeking advice from anyone, because there is none to be given. My OB/GYN and the head of Neurology at UK have both concluded to shrug their shoulders and tell me to hope for the best. I have an appointment with an ENT in three weeks, but don’t hold much hope in that appointment. ALL natural remedies have been tried, multiple times, many of them daily. When I say ALL, please believe me that I truly mean ALL. Unless there is some magical unicorn out there who delivers 47 essential oils on a stick coated in cayenne, glued together with Vicks’s, administered via neti pot, and delivered by dancing jalapeño peppers, then I have no interest in your shenanigans. 

I write this post, simply put, to be a big baby. I am just ready to stomp my foot on the ground and kick and scream and throw my taste tantrum because I am frustrated. I want to TASTE. I want to SMELL. But I know, I knoooooooooooooooooooooooooow. I am mommy. I have to take one for team ninja baby. I have to be strong. This, too, shall pass. The Lord is my Shepherd. But I WANT TO TASTE!!! It has been MONTHS. I don’t even remember how bad my dogs smell, or what my own perfume smells like, I’ve never smelled my new tropical fruit shampoo, and I’ve never tasted the new apple spice cake recipe. I don’t get to hug my hubby and smell his cologne, or even just walk outside and smell the rain. It is a lonely, devoid place, and I am sad. I am already sad because what if it doesn’t go away and I don’t even get to smell my sweet little baby covered in baby lotion and smelling like a tiny little dream?

Ways to kill a southern girl one day at a time:

1     1. Take away her taste and smell.

 2. End of list.