I see the irony in having no taste. Even before the Coronavirus robbed me of my ability to taste pretty much anything that isn't spiced up to the eyeballs or made entirely of sugar.
It was just about three years ago when my only bout of Covid 19 didn't kill me, like I had feared, but just hung around like a really bad cold for about a week - then the aftermath because of my other underlying health conditions. The thing is my ability to taste and smell obviously disappeared when the virus hit me; you could have shovelled any old shit into my gob the first couple of days I had it, not that I was eating much, bit I didn't notice it until the memory of things' tastes disappeared.
The first time I really noticed it was when I couldn't smell a flower, but the wife could. Over the next couple of days it was a realisation that I didn't think for a second would be permanent that made me feel okay about it. It wasn't like there's anything I could do about it. "Doctor, I've got no taste." "You need a fashion consultant not a doctor. Now stop wasting my time with trivial things." It's not a thing medicine really knows how to treat, as far as I can ascertain from reading up on it.
Anyhow, it's actually something you learn to live with - seriously; you know which foods will allow you to taste something and I like eating. Salads work particularly well, because of the different textures (and salad dressing). It's the loss of smell that has been both a blessing and a curse. Apart from not being able to smell food, or when it's burning - which opens the door to a much more horrible scenario; I can't smell spring, or summer or autumn even winter, cold clean air is lost on me, senses wise. Flowers, perfume, herbs, petrol - nope. Diesel smells like burnt camphor; because I do smell somethings, although 'smelling' is maybe more a sensation that lingers, if you can imagine that. I have anosmia, parosmia and euosmia, these being changes to way things smell, nasty and nice.
The blessing is things like not smelling the collective arses of the inhabitants of the house, mine included. I don't smell farts. I can't smell shit - which opens the door to a much more horrific scenario - and therefore I can't smell rotting things or gas, but fortunately I can smell smoke, but not as you do. It's smoke to me but it smells of something that I don't remember smoke smelling like. Most unpleasant odours you all suffer, I don't. I don't think the wife would let me leave the house if I personally smelled, so I'm coping with it...
Sometimes it comes back. Don't get excited. If the sense returns, it's for maybe 20 seconds and then it's gone. I can smell a rose, sometimes, but once it registered, it's like it's locked out from then on. So it's a mixture of pleasure and crushing realisation, because I miss it.
But, you know, this is supposed to be an upbeat piece about the irony I mentioned right up at the top is that I have no taste. I have been accused of having lousy taste, questionable taste, if you can think of a derogatory taste example I've probably been accused of it and my artistic tastes have avenues which most others find unfathomable. And I've been told I have no taste.
I've never been quite sure what that specific accusation actually means. The 'sense of taste' search doesn't really deal with 'that' taste. I type in 'I have no taste' and there's nothing existential there.
As I've gotten older and I hope a little wiser, my tastes, whatever they are, are not things I shy away from. Each to their own, but get a laugh from it if you can.
The taste I'm talking about are things like music, film, art and anything else you would include. I've been accused of having no taste and to be fair I don't really understand the term because of course I have I just have tastes that don't suit some people. It's actually a personal slight whether benign or humorous, not an all encompassing suggestion - chacun à son goût, as the French say.
Once at a pub quiz, a guy who is a few years older than me, said, "I listened to that record you put on Facebook. What a load of rubbish." And then he burbled on about some other things I'd put up, basically saying he thought my music taste was shite. I find it quite funny now. I'm eclectic. It's great.
I spent ages working and reworking this original closing paragraph, however I did it felt like I was saying to you that having no taste is a thing that makes me sad. It doesn't. I hope it comes back, I suspect it won't. Like blood pressure tablets, inhalers and other meds I take to keep me young, it's something you learn to live with. I could be dead, I wouldn't taste fuck all then!
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