For me, losing my sense of smell (anosmia) was one of the many consequences of my cycling accident. I didn’t notice I couldn’t smell straight away and when I did, it was soon overshadowed by the threat of meningitis (the ‘bad kind’) due to a fractured skull and a tiny puddle of CS fluid I left lying in the road that day. Much of the time after the accident is a blur but I have really strong memories of how some of the healthcare team responded to the anosmia- they weren’t trying to be unsympathetic but didn’t quite know how to respond to such a rare thing- and so the responses ranged from disbelief to mild amusement. I remember it hurt a little but, like them, my mind was more on the bigger picture then. It was only when I was beyond the crisis stage, bandaged up and home again, that the implications really hit home.
I was lucky to have fantastic friends and family around me during my recovery but most found it hard to understand the devastating loss I was feeling about losing my sense of smell – the disconnection from the world that accompanies the sudden loss of a crucial sense. Over time, I learned how to express what it was like in ways that helped my friends and family understand. If you have anosmia or know someone who has lost their sense of smell, I hope these three things I learnt might be useful in some way…
Three things to tell about anosmia:
1. “When I hug my partner or family, I can’t smell anything”
Most people know instinctively how important this is – the smell of a baby, a partner, a parent, a pet. We drink in their smell and ‘know them’. It is deep, primeval. When we are away from our loved ones or bereaved, we might smell their clothes – seeking a closeness again. With anosmia, that is gone. And it is profoundly sad.
2. “If I’ve left on a gas ring or there’s a fire, I won’t smell it”
Of course, we can have smoke alarms, have our gas cookers replaced (as I did) and take all precautions – but the fact is that the sense of smell is such an important early warning sign for these kinds of life threatening dangers. With anosmia we lose a safety mechanism and this can be frightening.
3. “I can’t tell if food has gone bad”
When I told people I had lost my sense of smell – and taste as a consequence- it was this loss of taste that most people connected with. Food lovers like me understood the devastation of not being able to taste food or savour a glass of wine. This was not true for everyone though- some people ‘eat to live’ more than they ‘live to eat’. What I found everyone could relate to was the anxiety of not being able to tell if that meat in the fridge was bad, the milk off or the fish spoiled. It’s another lost safety mechanism. And another thing to worry about.
For me, talking about these three consequences of anosmia were the most effective at helping friends and family understand more of what I was experiencing when I had anosmia. I suspect there are more. If you have tips or thoughts on what you think would help, please share them here. The more we talk, the more people will understand.
