Yes, that is supposed to read the way it is written, I was NOT trying to write 'amnesia'. "Anosmia", as Google tells me, is "the loss of the sense of smell, either total or partial. It may be caused by head injury, infection, or blockage of the nose." That pretty little nose you see in my profile picture? Yes, it is only decorative in purpose, because I do not have any memory of sensing anything by way of that organ. Ok, I will not say that my nose is just decorative because it does help with holding up the specs that my high-myopic eyes need, it serves to humidify the air I breathe and keep out a bit of the dust.... Oh well, I just meant to say that I have not been able to smell anything for as long as I remember!
Legend has it that my Dad used to stuff my nose regularly with Vicks Vaporub due to my excessive affinity for all kinds of common colds that came my way. I must have been a serious sleep deterrent with my constantly stuffed nose! Anyway, according to the ENT my family took me to at the age of five, intemperate use of this topical ointment was the culprit. Henceforth, my Dad was very careful to rub Vicks only on the exterior of my nose when I continued my friendship with colds. There is no scientific evidence for the ability of Vicks to cause anosmia, so let me go on record here that I completely exonerate my father of any culpability in this.
The second and last intervention was in my early adulthood when another ENT took it upon himself to get me back my missing olfactory sense by any means possible. He made me take enough zinc tablets to galvanize a small ship and also did some cauterizing and left my poor burned nostrils stuffed with cotton wool for three days. Nothing came of it. Even today, smells are as complete strangers to this nose as ice is to the Sahara. I will not bore you with a list of smells that I cannot sense. The nearest thing I know to smell is when I paint my nails and I have a burning sensation when the nail polish is right under my nose, unlike my female relatives who can smell freshly painted nails half an hour after the fact.
What brought my attention back to my "disability" was a discussion in my writing group that is led by Dr. Manu Remakanth. He is currently conducting an online writing workshop with a series of videos, the first three of which have dealt with how to use the sense of smell and descriptions deriving from it in one's writing. One of the exercises that he gave us was to list some smells and the memories that were tied to them. As you can guess, I couldn't contribute anything to the subsequent discussion. Description of my anosmia led to people sharing that it could cause frequent hospitalizations and near-death situations. This led me to think how I have coped with my anosmic condition so far in my life.
I think one of the greatest aids in coping with a disability is having a good support group. No one in my family or among my friends has teased me or looked down upon me for my lack of smelling prowess. No one has played any pranks on me for the disability. I have always had people to smell things for me if I was in doubt of anything. My sister was always ready to conduct a sniff test of me or my attire. My sister-in-law and DH help me choose perfumes. My kids always smell food that is doubtful to tell me if it is still good or not. They can also tell me whether there is any smell of leaking LPG. My friends would walk with me past the Chem lab and tell me I was lucky that I didn't have to deal with the rotten-egg smell of hydrogen sulphide gas. They never said,"Oh poor you, because you cannot smell 'this or that'."
The second thing that has helped is counting the advantages that an anosmic nose gives me. To this day when I am talking to pregnant ladies who are complaining about the myriad smells that make them vomit, I am able to smile smugly and tell them no smell ever bothered me and I never had to vomit even once in both my pregnancies. If envious looks could maim, I would have to be carted around in a wheelbarrow by now. The same goes for when anyone in my family has stomach flu or such. DH gags when he is hit by the smell of vomit anywhere, while I can go in and take care of vomiting children and 'accidents'. Last August, when a stray dog died hit by a motorbike across the road in front of our house, it lay there festering for 18 hours and no one would go near it due to the smell. I dug up a pit in my upper yard, got my son to help me to carry the body and buried it. My son was heavily muffled up, even so he had to keep his face averted. I don't think I would have been able to do that if I could smell normally.
In fact, my sister-in-law (who is slightly hyperosmic) tells me that my anosmia might be a big factor in the success of my marriage because she usually flings away an item of clothing worn by DH and tells him, "It's a GOOD thing your wife cannot smell." And it is also a good thing that DH is a teetotaler, so I don't need to play detective with my nose to find out what he drinks. Taking things to another spiritual level, if the control of the senses is the sign of a good yogi, I have things quite easy. What with my faulty eyesight and my non-working nose, I only have three-and-a-half senses to control in the first place!
As far as the literary device of evoking memories and sensations by describing unique smells goes, both in the appreciation of this device and in using it, I am certain that my imagination can cope with it even without having experienced smells. For instance, a good writer can make a person who has never seen or touched snow feel it just by describing it. Similarly, I can model myself on several literary giants who have crafted wonderful olfactory pictures to create something unique on my own. Besides, I have a host of smell stories in my community that I can always borrow and improve upon! And if I am in doubt about the smell of anything, my sister-in-law is one of the best olfactory resource persons on earth. So I do not see the lack of the olfactory sense as a handicap in the literary field either.
No doubt I have missed a whole dimension of the physical world by not being able to smell. May be, by not having the ability to tie memories to smells, I have lost quite a few unique memories as well. But looking back, I can see that I have been immensely blessed in the disability that I was burdened with. So, if Mephistopheles himself were to come and offer me a good, perfectly working nose with retrograde effect in exchange for any of my other senses, or in exchange for my loving support group, I would give him a cold eye and a scornful lip and sashay away in absolute disdain.
