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smell
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2022-08-22
Sensory Roadblock: Unexpected Detriments and Benefits of Mask-wearing in Gathering Food and Information
During the pandemic, I opted to order all of my groceries online to be delivered. I have never been much of a take-out person and mostly cook at home, so I really love to pick my ingredients when grocery shopping. Missing the in-store grocery shopping experience over the past few years, I sometimes go out to gather my fresh foods, especially after the normalizing of social distancing and mask regulations. Though I still prefer to wear a mask, even when regulations are occasionally loosened, a sensory occurrence that I did not expect to miss or lack as a consequence of mask-wearing is the importance of smell in my food-gathering habits. Being able to check the ingredients for both flavor and freshness qualities by smelling them is such a natural instinct that most lifeforms use to find their food. I never considered myself someone who actively smells things very often, so this sensory roadblock surprised me, as I initially chose to go to the store to get better foods than those that had been delivered to me. I have often come home and found that the asparagus or meat that I had just bought had that unpleasant odor of food past its prime, even though its appearance and texture seemed just perfect. I also miss being able to smell the full intensity of the fresh-cut flower bouquets that proclaim the seasons when going out grocery shopping. This temporary lessening of sense-of-smell from wearing a mask has been a bit of a hinderance in such ways, but it has been beneficial in many others. For example, I have dust allergies and used to become very stuffy after visiting my library due to the book dust—especially since, as a history and art history graduate student, all the books that I want or need to check out are usually the oldest or dustiest ones! Not being able to smell or breathe-in these things has helped me dramatically in my experience of information gathering. I can now spend hours looking over books that I wouldn’t have thought of opening before and have found some wonderful sources for my research. Though of course many historical texts are fully available in online formats and an invaluable resource, I often feel the same way about visiting my library as I do visiting my grocery store—I hope to find something myself that might work even better for my own project, either culinarily or academically. -
2021-06-15
COVID-19, Masks, and Bleach at a Preschool
During the COVID-19 pandemic I worked at a preschool where I taught primarily 12-to-18-month-old children until they were ready to move onto the next class. The use of a face mask and rigorous cleaning methods were a constant part of my day for the entire time I worked there. Now, the memory of that time stands out to me the most through the feel of the mask on my face and the smell of the bleach that seemed to stay with me for days. The kids I taught were too young to wear masks (that was reserved for the two-year-old and up classes), but they did not seem bothered that the adults surrounding them wore pieces of fabric over their mouths and noses. For eight hours a day I felt the pull on my ears, the scratchy material against my nose, and the frustration of the mask muffling my voice when trying to get the attention of ten children in the classroom. Pointing out facial features like a nose or certain facial expressions like being happy or sad with a mask on became normal. More often than not, I would feel a small hand reach up and attempt (or succeed) at pulling my mask down which I proceeded to pull back on as quickly as possible while ignoring how good the fresh air on my face felt. Aside from the masks, the administration required routinely cleaning all toys used everyday with a high concentration of bleach. During nap time, the smell of the bleach filled the room as we cleaned all toys used that day, regardless of the duration of the activity. Even with a mask on, the smell lingered in my nose, on my clothes, and in the classroom to the point that I always felt that I smelled of bleach. When COVID-19 infection numbers were up in the local area or we had case in our school, the bleach concentration, as expected, went up and so did the smell. While I supported all efforts made at the preschool to reduce possible COVID-19 infections, these sensory descriptions illustrate the mental and emotional draining portion of the pandemic history. -
2020-09-01
Incense, Prayer, and Wool
One of the most profound sensory experiences I had over the course of the COVID-19 pandemic was the new yet comforting experiences that engaged all the senses of visiting St. Anthony the Great Monestary in Florence, Arizona. My first visit, I stayed for a long weekend. Visitors remaining at the monestary for more than a day are put to work on the grounds, aiding the monks in their daily work. I was put in the kitchen due to my previous experience in a commercial kitchen setting. The diet at the monastery is remarkably simple; a bean and rice soup, bread, and tangerines grown at the monastery. None of the smells of these foods were new or remarkable to me, but instead this provided an interesting aural experience. The monks pray constantly in everything they do, and kitchen work was no different. Low, repetitive Greek prayers were the only auditory input in the kitchen, aside from the hum of the dishwasher and the clinking of utensils against pots. Services were held in the early morning, around 3:00am. While making my way from the guests' lodging to the church, I heard a rhythmic wood-on-wood striking, reverberating across the monastery. I saw the source. A monk was striking a wooden board, suspended in the air by two chains, with two wooden mallets. This was essentially the call for the service to start. I later learned from another pilgrim that this practice was adopted by Greeks living in Ottoman-controlled Greece when restrictions on church bells were implemented. The service itself, too, was a sensory experience unlike any other. Sonorous Byzantine chants, clouds of aromatic incense, all lit by candlelight and a handful of small oil lamps. The sense of touch was also engaged; I felt the wool prayer rope in my hand, each knot a tactile counter for the number of prayers completed. Nearly every sense was full engaged in this temporary and much needed respite from the chaos of the outside world during uncertain times. -
2020-08-10
Smelling the labor shortage
Trash stinks. This fact is universally recognized, except, maybe, by raccoons and the like. Nobody likes to have trash around, let alone piled up and overflowing. And that's not something that most people have to really worry about. The – at least relative – cleanliness of the streets is taken for granted by the vast majority of people who are privileged enough to enjoy regular cleanup services. For most of my life, I placed my trash in a bag in a bin in my kitchen until it was full, or, if I made chicken for dinner, until I was done cooking. Then I took the bag out of the bin and out to the larger bin outside – out of sight, out of mind. When Sunday night rolled around, I emptied the kitchen bin one final time, took it out, and wheeled the larger bin to the sidewalk. It was empty when I woke up on Monday and thus began the cycle again. The city's sanitation workers faithfully took care of mine and everyone else's trash before the crack of dawn. But something changed one Monday morning in August 2020. I pulled in the driveway at 3:30pm after having just finished an exhausting shift at a coffee shop, where a third of my coworkers had called out sick over the course of that week. As I always do, I walked over to the bin, grabbed the handle, and started wheeling it back to its usual place by the back yard gate. It felt heavy. It wasn't full; I usually don't produce enough trash to fill it up every week. "Was today a holiday?", I thought to myself. No, it was just a regular Monday – as regular as any day could be post-March 2020. Maybe they were just behind schedule. I kept walking back to the back yard gate and. as usual, I spun the bin around intending to just walk away. Being clumsy, I managed to set it off its balance and knocked it over. Trash spilled onto the ground and one of the bags broke open. The smell of rotting eggshells, an old hunk of cheese I found while cleaning out my refrigerator three days prior, and the, er, soiled, cat litter wafted upwards creating a smoldering cocktail of aromas that left me coughing. I got gloves and a mask (something I never would have owned six months back) and cleaned it up – no big deal. Tuesday came and still there was no sign of the sanitation workers. Sunday arrived and again I wheeled the bin to the road; this time it was so full that the lid would not fully close. I assumed that last week's interruption of service was a one-off. As I got home from work Monday and saw the bin still full, I realized the degree to which I had been taking the trash service for granted. I wheeled it back to the gate, went inside, and opened up the news app on my computer. I stumbled across an article about the disproportionate affects of COVID-19 on essential workers. The lack of service was not a one-off, it was a problem. Recent photos of streets littered with trash and overflowing bins abounded when I did a Google search for them. I went outside to go for a walk. That smell – the cocktail of cheese, eggs, and cat litter – was now at my front door. Similar cocktails emanated from each house I walked past, each with their own garnish, so to speak. It was overpowering. It was the first time I had experienced the result of our modality of living in such a visceral, sensory way. But beyond my own discomfort and beyond the discomfort of my neighbors' similar experiences, that overpowering stench that saturated the air made me conscious of the people who clean it up for me every week. It made me conscious of the degree to which we as a society depend of them and people who perform other services we take for granted. It highlighted, in a very stark way, what our society prioritizes above the health of its people. The sanitation workers don't make very much money. They have to go to work, even if they are sick, because lack of guaranteed sick time even in the midst of a raging pandemic puts their lives at risk. Either way, their lives are at risk. -
2021-02-04
New tastes during lockdown
During lockdown, like many others I came in need of something to pass the time, and also like many I turned to cooking. It was something I already enjoyed doing pre-Covid, but had much less time for it. But during lockdown, there was substantially more time to put into trying new things. Trying all these new recipes became a part of my everyday life, ranging from fresh pasta, to chicken parmesan, to birria tacos. Almost all of these were new recipes to me, and the experiences and sensations that came with making them became a core part of what got me through lockdown. The smells of braising meat and stock simmering became something to look forward to each week. The new tastes and smells were something that brought the family together as we were all home, and cooking in our house is not a solitary affair. And each new dish only pushed me further down the rabbit hole of what most would consider way too much effort for a weeknight dinner. The photos attached are final dishes of Chicken Noodle Soup, Chicken Parmesan, and Birria Tacos, along with an in progress photo of the birria taco meat after braising. For recipes, refer to Binging with Babish on YouTube. -
2021-09
The comforting smell of cardamom and cinnamon on a Sunday morning
One of the most defining characteristics of my quarantine has been learning how to bake. After a year and a half, I am finally comfortable kneading, proofing, and baking. I have learned the tell-tale signs of under-proofed and over-proofed bread by touch (slightly indent the bread with the end of your finger and how the dough springs-back will tell you all you need). I have learned to listen for the hollow sound of fully cooked bread. However, one of the greatest joys I have found with baking is filling the house with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, and cardamom on a Sunday morning with my slightly adjusted cinnamon roll recipe from our well-used Betty Crocker’s 1961 New Picture Cookbook (it was my mum’s before me). My family is Scandinavian, and the smell and taste of cardamom is ever-present in Scandinavian baking. Kanalsnegl, klejner, and fødselsdagboller are all delicious Danish and Norwegian cardamom classics. But Betty Crocker’s cinnamon rolls are also highly popular in my house. From this, a fusion roll was born. On Sunday mornings, the house is filled with cinnamon and cardamon of these classic buns. The Betty Crocker recipe calls for two teaspoons of cinnamon filling, but I sub one teaspoon with cardamom. I also add a pinch of cardamom to the butterscotch topping. In a time of stressful uncertainty, the smell of freshly baked rolls with cinnamon and cardamom is like wrapping up in a comfortable blanket. I have attached the recipe if you want to try this sensory smell experience, too. -
2021-10-17
Fish Food
Since the Pandemic began and I was moved to remote work I have been spending more time than ever in my apartment. I bought some house plants to liven up my humble abode but they are easy to care for and don't do too much other than exist. I was looking to get a pet to occupy some of my time but unfortunately my building does not allow for cats or dogs, so I went for a fish friend as the lease was ambiguous towards fish. In college my roommate had two fish tanks and cared for them very well. The fish were always big hits with house guests and caring for them seemed easy enough. It was with this in mind that I purchased a male betta fish, which I named Tarzan after the drug smuggler Ludwig Fainberg from the documentary "Operation Odessa" which I highly recommend. However caring for a betta fish is not as simple as I initially thought. Yet with the help of the internet and all its wisdom I was able to do enough research and find exactly what I needed to make my tank as comfortable as possible for Tarzan. I purchased a five gallon tank along with, a filter, a heater (betta fish like it warm), gravel, a background poster, a pagoda, live plants, a net, a gravel pump for cleaning, ph chemicals, a large moss rock and of course fish food. He gets fed twice a day, once in the AM and once in the PM. The tank needs to be cleaned at least once a month and the filter is changed during that process as well. Every time I crack open his food my nose is greeted by a distinct fish food smell that is unmistakable and equally unpleasant. While I do not think that it would be impossible to care for Tarzan if I was still going into the office every day, it is definitely easier now that I am home more often. Cleaning the tank takes about an hour and can get smelly at times depending on how long it has been since its last cleaning. Without the current work from home situation brought on by the pandemic I would not have considered owning any type of pet that I would have to care for on a daily basis. The average lifespan of a betta fish is between three to five years, hopefully with enough care Tarzan can live to the full five and see the other side of the pandemic. -
2021-10-15
The Love of Candles
Before 2020, I hardly ever burned a candle. My parents had forbid it, convinced me or my siblings were going to forget about it and burn the house down. My dorm room had extremely strict (and understandable) rules about open flames and heat sources. It wasn’t until I had graduated college and moved back into and then out of my parents’ house that I was free of these regulations. Even then, though, it never occurred to me to buy candles. My favorite scents were often nature-based and could easily be experienced by visiting the ocean, or the forest, or the occasional bakery. It wasn’t until the pandemic, when I was living in Ohio without being comfortable traveling to the ocean, or to the forest, or in public at all, that I turned to candles. Soon one impulse purchase of a sea salt and balsam scented candle turned into a constant hunt for all of my favorite scents, to bring me to places I didn’t feel safe or responsible traveling to. My collection grew rapidly, and for the past year or so I’ve had a candle lit in my home almost every day. I never thought something a simple as a $7 candle I found at TJ Maxx or Bath & Body Works could bring me so much peace, calming my need to return to my favorite far-off places until it is once again safe to do so. Don’t get me wrong, candles still can’t compare to the real smells I adore, but even a weak imitation is better than a scent-less longing. Even though I’m currently residing in Ohio, I can use candles to feel connected to my home state of California, or my favorite places to visit, bringing comfort and familiarity in a time that is anything but comfort and familiar. My bank account may not be happy with me given this new habit, but it’s a price I am willing to pay. -
2020-11-26
A New Sense of Taste
The memory I related is about the difference in taste and smell before I had covid versus after. It is still altered in some ways and did not return as it was before. I still find it jarring eat something that I used to love only to find that it tastes different and I no longer like it. -
2021-10-03
The Scents of a Homecoming
My maternal grandfather passed away late last year amidst a relatively heavy pandemic lockdown, and our family has since tried to fill in for him in caretaking for my grandmother. If he could have asked something of us, I know it would have only been to look after her. He was that kind of man. He didn’t need for anything for time with his family and friends, and his utmost concern was her welfare, even when she angered him. Recurring and cyclic apprehension and uncertainty over transmission rates, long-term vaccine efficacy and inoculated antibody generation have forestalled several attempted return trips to my hometown. Data-driven doubts have eroded my wife’s confidence that our collective vaccinations will protect her aging parents from life-altering illness and death have prevented her from traveling with me, even though she wont readily admit that outside our home. In addition to everything else the pandemic has altered or taken from us, it’s also complicated my family’s efforts to care for each other. My grandmother turned 86 recently, and her birthday was also their anniversary. They would have been married 63 years this month, and we wanted to make sure the day didn’t pass like any other lonely Tuesday since his death. My cousins and I put together a birthday dinner at the best restaurant in town, and I traveled back to New Mexico for a week to visit and help where I could. The trip turned out to inspire a self-reflection on the power of scent in my life, emotions, and memory. *** I drove straight to my grandmother’s home on Blodgett Street. I pushed the front door open, and an unpleasant stink hit my nostrils. Throughout my life, that home had particular smells that transitioned over time. Everyone in my family but the children smoked cigarettes while I was growing up, and it wasn’t unusual for a blue-gray haze to hang in my grandparents’ home during family holidays. It wasn’t uncommon for their 1000 sq. ft. home to sleep ten or fifteen people when we had something to celebrate or grieve. Ashtrays often overflowed if late night poker games grew too intense to step away from the dining table. I recall one Thanksgiving from my early childhood in which heavy cigarette smoke obscured my view of the backdoor while I stood near the front door. Even through those early years, I associated their home with the smell of sweets. Baked goods, chocolate cakes, snickerdoodles, and sugar cereals, although I’m now surprised any of us could smell anything. I never ate Fruity Pebbles anywhere but their house. Word reached my family in the mid 80s that hotboxing the house was bad for everyone’s health, and they began smoking outside. Grandad hated that; he’s the one who paid off the mortgage, so he oughta be able to smoke wherever he damned well pleased. Still, he took it outside for the grandkids. Since they stopped smoking in the house, and especially since they quit smoking fifteen years ago, I associated their home with a particular and pleasant fragrance. I never placed it, and I’ve never smelled it anywhere else. It wasn’t solely the scented wax my grandmother leaves on warming plates for too long, which are almost always homey food scents, like apple pie. The scent of their home welcomed me back to a place I am unconditionally loved, missed, and wanted. My jokes always hit, my cooking never failed, and everyone was always glad to see me. They were also glad to take my lunch money at the poker table, which I imagine might have contributed to my perpetual welcome. As of this trip, that unique aroma is gone, replaced by a light odor of stale animal waste. My grandmother took in a low functioning chihuahua about three years ago, and the dog is slowly and thoroughly ruining all the flooring surfaces in her home. It won’t housebreak, and it’s incapable of turning right. Seriously. The dog might be a reincarnated Nascar driver. It only turns left. When it’s excited, anxious, fearful, doesn’t matter. The only emotional arrow in its quiver is a left turn, and the only dichotomy is the circumference. The dog can run around the whole room or spin in place, but only and always left. Lefty shit on one of my most important and reassuring emotional stimulants. ** I also stayed with my parents, who live across town, and we share a love of food, especially comfort food best consumed with big spoons or served in casserole dishes. Because we’re New Mexicans, that means a heavy dose of Hatch green chili goes in everything produced in our kitchens. Throughout the week, my folks made all the staples for fall: red beef enchiladas, fire roasted salsa, smoked burgers, and green chili chicken stew. While I associated backed goods and sweets with my grandparents’ home, I’ve always associated the aroma of meals with my parents, and especially the foods that take a day or two to get just right in a crock or stockpot. Bubbling green chili anything reminds me of the best parts of my childhood, and I have no unfond memories or emotions associated with it. I never caught a beating over the dinner table, never fought over a kettle of green chili. Comfort foods have historically made all the hurt and misery of the outside world go away. That’s their magic, isn’t it? No matter what the day and the world brought to your doorstep, the right foods and aromas improved everything they touched. ** As such, the consistent and predictable wonderfulness of my parents’ home helped buttress my emotions and the loss of the Blodgett Street Scent. The disappearance of that emotional, olfactory experience altered my perception of the trip. I regarded its replacement as a bellwether of things to come, a foreshadowing of my grandmother’s seemingly imminent decline into managed in-home care. My concerns over what the light stink meant conspired with her increased hearing loss, the occasional repeated story, and the often-repeated questions to erode my confidence in her long-term stability. Although she’s now 86, she remains independent and self-sufficient. There’s nothing she can’t accomplish on her own with enough time and naps between exertion. I think I’ve taken that for granted, though, and I should begin managing my expectations. Thanks to a left-leaning chihuahua, I have to confront my grandmother’s increasing fragility and forthcoming dependence. I regret having never attempted to define its source ingredients, although I doubt I could recreate it at any other time or place. In the meantime, I need to get her out of the house long enough to have the flooring scrubbed and sanitized. If you’re in the market for a left-loving fecal factory, please inquire within. -
2020-05-12
Smell and taste disorders during COVID‐19 outbreak: Cross‐sectional study on 355 patients, Dell’Era, Valeria ; Farri, Filippo ; Garzaro, Giacomo ; Gatto, Miriam ; Aluffi Valletti, Paolo ; Garzaro, Massimiliano, 2020 (Hoboken, John Wiley and Sons, Inc. Head & neck, 2020-07, Vol.42 (7), p.1591-1596).
2. Description: Among the most commonly observed effects of Covid-19 on patients are deteriorations (temporary or permanent) of taste and smell (Dell’Era et al. 2020, p. 1591). During the Italian Covid-19 outbreak in 2020, Novara University Hospital conducted a cross-sectional study examining the extent of smell-and-taste related disorders among patients confirmed to have contracted the virus. Results from the study suggest that an overwhelming share of patients experience sharp alterations in both senses, the severity of which differs from subject to subject. While extreme symptoms disappeared a fortnight after subjects participated in the study, a portion of respondents reported lingering sensory effects resulting from the virus (Dell’Era et al. 2020, pp. 1591-96). -
2020-07-22
Chile wants Covid-19 sniffer dogs to help reopen public spaces
Police dogs in Chile are being trained to sniff out Covid-19 in humans, with hopes that they will facilitate the reopening of busy public spaces including malls, sports centers, bus terminals and airports this fall. The so-called "bio-detector" dogs are expected to complete training by mid-September and will be deployed to places with high concentrations of people, according to the Chilean police. -
2021-05-15
South Africa Trains Dogs to Detect COVID-19 at Airports
In South Africa, a private security company that deploys dogs to sniff out illegal drugs and explosives at airports now is teaching the canine corps to detect COVID-19. Romain Chanson checks out the situation for VOA in this report from Johannesburg, narrated by VOA’s Carol Guensburg. -
2021-07-01
A New Normal
The COVID-19 pandemic came upon our lives in what seemed a very sudden fashion, forcing us into quarantine and changing our habits. Almost suddenly, the noisy, bustling streets became empty. The sounds of cars with people commuting to work disappeared. The friendly faces I’d see at work would be traded for a face on a screen. Remaining at home gave me both a sense of security and a feeling of isolation and loneliness. During brief outings to get necessities at the grocery store, it became odd to see each other with our faces covered. There was a feeling of unease as we made our way through the aisles, doing our best to remain six feet apart. Many times, I often felt disconnected, and initially a little wary of others. Were they infected or asymptomatic? Was I? I missed seeing my friends. I missed the shared meals we would have in a busy, noisy restaurant. I missed the smell of coffee brewing at my local coffee shop while I typed away on my laptop. So many experiences that we took for granted, disappeared in an instant. Over time, this way of living became our new normal. The scent of hand sanitizer and antibacterial cleaner became a regular part of my life. Hearing the regular news reports on the rising death toll was devastating. The feeling of the mask on my face as I made brief forays out into society gave me the comfort in knowing I was protecting others in case I was an asymptomatic carrier. I still shudder at those who express the sentiment that the masks were a form of oppression. I viewed it as a small sacrifice for the benefit of the many. As we appear to be a downslope to overcoming the virus, I recently remarked to a friend about how it now feels strange to think about “getting back to normal”. Our normal has undoubtably changed. And many of us have changed with it. -
2020-04
Clean Hands and Empty Spirits
This story is a small snapshot into how I felt mentally, and smelled, heard, and touched physically during April 2020. It talks about how the smells and noises around me at the time contributed to my worsening mental state and the feeling of hopelessness. This is important to me because it was this time that I learned that I am mentally stronger than I think and that I can get through rough patches with the help of my husband. It was not a fun experience, but I grew from it. -
2020-10-28
Pierogis and Kielbasa: Sound and Smell During COVID-19
Before the pandemic and the subsequent lockdowns began, hearing or seeing a loved one seemed almost a certainty. Although I worried for the safety of all my friends and family, I was most concerned with the well-being of my aging, immunocompromised grandmother. As a daughter of Eastern European immigrants, she was accustomed to eating ethnic Polish food. Throughout my childhood, she would kindly make pierogis and kielbasa sausage for me and my sister. The savory aroma of pierogis and kielbasa sausage cooking in sauerkraut inundated the senses. With the onset of the pandemic, however, my life, as with so many others, changed. Unfortunately, my grandmother is not accustomed to using video-chat services; however, hearing her voice over the phone or social-distancing on her porch allowed me to maintain contact, hear her voice, and smell the wonderful aroma of the food she always made for me as a child. Although momentary, the loss of hearing my grandmother’s voice as well as her delicious food made me realize how important it is to cherish the connections you have with your loved ones. During a time of uncertainty, tragedy, and disconnection, a loved one’s voice (as well as the food they make) can provide an emotional uplift. -
2021-01-16
Texas family without sense of smell escapes house fire
WACO, Texas -- A Texas family suffering the effects of COVID-19 is safe after their home caught fire, and they weren't able to smell the smoke. Fortunately, a fourth family member, a 17-year-old girl, was able to alert her three relatives and get them to safety. The one-story home caught fire in Waco Friday morning with four people inside. Three people at the home where Bianca Rivera lives lost their sense of smell due to the virus and were oblivious to the danger that was consuming the structure. The teen told KWTX-TV she smelled something burning around 2 a.m. "I started smelling burnt plastic, and that's when I got more alert and ran outside of my room," Rivera told the station. "I couldn't even pass the hallway because it was filled with so much smoke." "I would just do whatever anyone else would do for their own family," Rivera told KWTX. "I just wanted to get everyone else safe and alive that's all I wanted that's all I wanted was to keep everyone alive. I don't really count myself a hero." The family members escaped with their lives, but weren't able to save much else. The Red Cross and other relatives are helping the family as they recover from COVID-19 and a destroyed home. -
2021-02-04
The Emotional Toll of the Loss of Smell
When weighing the various outcomes of contracting Covid-19, the loss of smell seemed rather low on the list. Smell always ranked rather low in the hierarchy of the five senses. Sense of smell was always the go to answer in the childhood ice breaker “if you had to lose one of your five senses, which would you choose and why?” The lowly sense of smell seemed the least important. And in the Covid-19 experience, this strange symptom seemed to pale in comparison with being put on a ventilator, going in a coma, or losing one’s life. However, this article on the emotional impact of losing one’s sense of smell is a reminder that the aftermath of Covid-19, and the very ability to smell, is more complicated than one could imagine. As numerous survivors attest, the loss of smell is disorienting and depressing. It is not simply the inability to taste food, or coping with ordinary smells that are now offensive. Scents are tied to our memories, and many survivors relate losing their sense of smell to losing their sense of self. As this article explains, many survivors are turning to smell training in hopes of regaining a part of themselves that many of us never gave a second thought to prior to this pandemic. -
2021-01-24
Welcome to My Non-Smelly World
I am currently in the midst of a once in a lifetime experience that I never thought would occur. First, allow me to lay the foundation for this submission. I was born with a condition called Isolated Congenital Anosmia. In laymen's terms, I was born without a sense of smell. This is a rare disorder that affects between 1%-5% of the overall population.* I rarely volunteer that I cannot smell as it involves laborious conversations answering questions as to why and how it could have happened, what foods I can taste, or if I am sad or angry that I have this condition. People are well-meaning, but it gets old repeating this conversation multiple times, so I avoid it like the plague. Wait. Too soon? My preference to keep this close to the vest changed with the arrival of COVID-19. Those who have still not regained their smell after recovering from the virus are now temporarily just like me. It is surreal. Not so secretly, I admit I feel a tiny bit of satisfaction that they are experiencing a glimpse of my day to day life. As a result, I am now feeling the odd desire to tell anyone and everyone about my condition. I feel compelled to share advice and comments with this segment of society while wearing a hat bearing the words, "Welcome to my world!" Also, ideas of creating a Zoom course titled "How to Survive the No-Smell Apocalypse!" frequently come to mind. I can include concepts such as enlisting close friends or neighbors whom you force to smell your house before having people over, obsessively take the garbage out since you do not know if it smells, or the joys of surviving a dutch oven with zero consequence. Also, I will share my list of candle scents that anyone would enjoy smelling in your home. Hint: There is only one, vanilla. Trust me. I have tried them all using my family as guinea pigs. Finally, I feel like the art of 'fake smelling' is underrated and must now be remedied for society to interact with some sense of normalcy during this otherwise chaotic time. I will demonstrate the proper and accepted social reactions when smelling various odors such as used diapers, spoiled foods, lotions, perfumes, or (insert all world smells). The creme de la creme is learning how to emote false elation at the announcement of another semi-annual Bath and Bodyworks candle sale or when Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Lattes come around again. The ability to avoid drawing attention to yourself via 'fake smelling' cannot be underestimated. In conclusion, this pandemic has provided a unique opportunity for others to experience life through my nose. It is not something I would ever wish permanently on others, yet knowing that it is a temporary condition, I have found it to be a bit of respite in a dark year full of so many unknowns. Now can someone confirm whether my Jeep honestly smells like stinky teenage feet or if my husband is messing with me again? *Disclaimer: This measurement may not still be accurate but comes from articles and journals I have read over the years. -
2020-11-10
Made the worst discovery of my life
Woman works with covid patients and wakes up one morning to discover she can no longer smell. In the video she goes around the house trying to smell different items. Her face becomes more distraught as she realizes she is not smelling anything. This is a popular Tic Tok video type right now. Many people's first sign that something is amiss is the loss of smell and taste. -
2021-01-14T18:43:30
The Sounds, Smells, and Experiences of a COVID Graduation
As the year 2020 ushered in my family and I had many events we were looking forward to, one event was my son’s high-school graduation. Once COVID hit his ceremony got postponed, and then it was turned into a drive-thru graduation ceremony. I felt happy my son’s graduation ceremony was still happening, but sad for both my son and me too. Since, my son would miss out on the traditional aspects of a high-school graduation ceremony, and I felt sad for myself because I did not get to attend my own high-school graduation; so it had meant a lot to me to see him experience what I did not get to at a traditional high-school graduation ceremony. On the day of my son’s drive-thru graduation ceremony, I was driving and my hands were dry and slippery from the hand sanitizer, I constantly put on for protection from COVID, both factors therefore made it hard to focus totally on the visuals of the event; and also impacted my ability to get a lot of video and pictures at the event. These circumstances I feel made me fixate on all the sounds and smells just as much as the visuals in front of me while experiencing the graduation. While waiting in the car line to get to the graduation stage the graduation speeches were streamed from a local radio station. The speeches I heard given by chosen student speakers referenced at times the sadness they felt due to the senior events cancelled due to COVID. When usually speakers at graduations express sadness, but the class of 2020 had a unique sadness and that is the effects COVID had on their senior year. As my son and I approached the commencement stage we both put our masks on, the smells of my car were replaced by the stale air I breathed within my mask that I had become all too familiar with since the start of COVID. My son got out of the car to walk across the commencement stage. The sounds I heard from the car were kind of distant, and made me feel like I was watching the ceremony from a different location. At the end of the day, while watching my son walk across the graduation stage, all my feelings and different observations before the event subsided and I felt nothing but proud of my son. Along with I felt grateful for the people who put together the graduation, for some of the unique sensory experiences I may not have focused on as much in pre-COVID times, and for the event since it could have been canceled because of COVID. If anything COVID implications provided many unique aspects to my son’s graduation ceremony that may come to give more meaning to it in the long run then a traditional graduation ceremony. The video clip I submitted is one of a few captured memories I have of the graduation; and it’s an example of the distant sounds of the graduation I heard while viewing it from my car. -
2020-12-24
COVID Smells
My family had been fortunate to avoid COVID 19 for ten months. However, in December 2020, that changed. My symptoms began with a minor headache which, on day two, morphed into a minor cough. I was fortunate to never be hospitalized, but on day three, my experience underwent a strange and unexpected change. I began to smell the strong smell, of what could only be described as ammonia. I was once a cat person, and remember the smell of cat urine on a carpet or furniture if left untreated. This smelled exactly like that. My first reaction was to inquire of my family, and no one could smell it but I, which only served to make the experience all the more strange. When everyone can smell the same smell, it’s one thing but when only you can smell it you begin to questions your sanity. The smell of ammonia was strongest outside and somewhat subdued when indoors. It lasted for one day and was gone the next but it was strong to the point of discomfort. -
2020-10-27
The New Smell of Walmart
Walmart. Not known for being the cleanest and best smelling place on Earth. In the past, I’d walk in and there would be always be an odd stench. One that smelled of old moldy bread and burnt bacon. However, I was very used to the smell given that I’d usually stop by here once a month after lacrosse practice to pick up gatorade for the following practices. Once COVID-19 struck. Walmart’s smell has changed significantly. The employees are constantly cleaning, wiping down registers, mopping the tile, and spraying down the carts. Now a distinct smell of bleach fills the entire store. The mask that I wear in the store isn’t enough to block out the strong smell of bleach. It’s so strong that it stings my nose. I hope that the smell of bleach can die down and oddly enough return to the regular old smell. -
2020-07-15
Food Creations During Quarantine
Pre-Quarantine, there was the opportunity maybe once a week to cook something extravagant for dinner; it was always a treat coming home from work and having the house already filled with some aroma that made instantly remember just how hungry I was. As quarantine limited both other responsibilities and the opportunity to go out to eat, the chances to experiment became more frequent. My grandmother had previously run a restaurant years ago, so this became my opportunity to sous chef and learn some of the tricks of the trade. The infrequent aromas of 2019 were replaced by the almost daily culinary adventures that we went on, be it cooking, baking, or anything in between. For myself, and so many others, baking definitely become a type of release to combat the mood swings and general boredom that quarantine offered up on a daily basis. For my cooking escapades, I would usually stray towards the foods that offered comfort, either through their taste or through their smell. Not being restricted by a mask indoors made the simple act of inhaling that much more enjoyable. There was something that was comforting about having those smells wafting through the house, almost a sense of nostalgia not so much for pre-quarantine but for childhood maybe? -
2020-10-13
Muted Sense of Smell
COVID-19 re-created a living paradigm I had experienced living in Japan for many years of wearing a mask in public, usually on public transportation or during flu season. Although I did not wear it all the time, when I did wear it my sense of smell would of course be muted, or I would smell my own breath. It would also bring to my attention what I perceived others would smell when I spoke with them making me more self-conscience of my breath (and increasing gum and mint purchases). Although I found it uncomfortable, I would deal with it for the short periods of time it was necessary. When the COVID-19 government responses in the US required the use of a mask in public, I found myself back in unpleasantly familiar sensation of having to wear a mask, but now one made of cloth, since disposable paper ones were hard to acquire or reserved for health care workers. Of course, said mask has been washed and dried with perfumed detergents further muting the sense of smell. What also made it worse was the fuzzy lint strings that existed on the inside of any mask (cloth or paper) that would tickle the nose and inducing a sneeze, unleashing a round of stares from strangers nearby. Overall, I have grown used to it, but the behavioral shift in wearing, washing, gathering, and staging of a mask that has become a norm, and so has the muted sense of smell. Sometimes a blessing and sometimes a curse. -
2020-10-12
Loud noises and Quiet Cooking
There are two things that have marked this pandemic for me: sound and smell. He sounds of slammed doors from a very bored, angry, unsure ten-year-old boy and the smell of my late-night cooking. As a 10-year-old, he felt set adrift, when schools closed, and he couldn’t go play with his friends and they couldn’t come here. How do you explain the concept of pandemic to a kid without scaring the crap out of them? Because he was slamming the door to his room almost anytime he was spoken to, the dogs, of course, had something to say about it, because, well, they’re dogs. So, most of the day, there was slamming doors, constant barking, yelling (him), more yelling (me), crying (mostly me) and just really wanting some peace. So, I began to cook. Stock, one of the first things I learned in culinary school. Tomato sauce. Pasta. Cookies. Bread, and no, I didn’t get on the sour dough band wagon. And I would do this late at night. When it was quite and cool. Filling the house with the rich smells of food. Meals that have been frozen, stock that has been frozen or canned, cookie dough stashed away to make cookies later. I could think while I cooked. It was and is, my de-stressor. The picture is of one of my creations – “Ravioli Lasagna” – basically, using fresh ravioli (this is ricotta and spinach) as your lasagna “noodle”, layered with marinara, mozzarella and sweet Italian sausage.