Yesterday I had an appointment with a new Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor. I'd been to one before, a couple times, in fact. Once was the first time I investigated my lack of smell and taste, and the other was to dig a bit further into some of the symptoms that seemed to be reflux-related. After finally getting on allergy shots and getting the CT scan done of my sinuses, the allergist recommended I see another ENT. He would be able to read my CT scan and really dig into what might be happening. I knew the appointment probably wouldn't go well, but I honestly didn't expect it to go the way it did.
The beginning was fine. I went over my history, he looked in my nose, and finally explained my CT scan in depth. But then he had me do a smell test. It turned out to be 40 scratch-and-sniff questions--a series of four booklets with 10 questions each. I had to use a pencil to scratch a rectangle, smell it, then choose one of four scents. Even if I didn't know, I had to answer. Do you have any idea how demoralizing it is to have to guess on 40 questions in a row? To have to sniff something multiple times, hoping for just the slightest moment of clarity, only to smell nothing? By the middle of the second book I was practically in tears. Why? I don't know. After more than seven years of knowing I wasn't smelling, it just felt very "official" to know that I couldn't smell anything. Ironically, I guessed right on 13 questions, but it was still abundantly clear that something is very wrong.
After that, the doctor told me that based on what he sees in my CT scan, he would not expect the level of smell loss that he's seeing. In addition, if it was, the prednisone I had taken previously should have been sufficient to reduce the swelling to the point that I should have recovered some smell, and since that didn't happen, most likely this is not related to any sinus inflammation. Most likely it was a virus that came in and damaged the nerves, and it's most likely permanent.
I asked if there was anything else I could try. He talked about olfactory training, which is a new thing involving essential oils that I had heard about not long ago. He doesn't really buy into the theory--and I guess I don't either. He talked about a guy in Washington, D.C., one that I correctly guessed is affiliated with the Smell and Taste Clinic that I've come across in my many Google exploits since this started. He figures the guy is a quack, as he doesn't understand why--if he really did have some amazing method to fix these problems--he hasn't shared that with the world. Again, I sort of figured as much, but it just checked another long-shot off the list. I asked about things I had read about chiropractic treatments and acupuncture, but he referred back to the diagram he'd showed me of where the olfactory bulb is that holds the nerves that make smell possible, and didn't see how either of those treatments could impact that area.
So, I guess that's that, then.
Even though nothing had really changed when I walked out of that office, it took everything I had not to break down right then and there. Thanking the doctor, paying my co-pay at the desk, walking to my car, driving to a work errand I had to do on my way back, and even walking into the office to my desk and running into a co-worker...every moment was a struggle to not start sobbing. It felt pretty stupid given that my condition was no better or worse, but then I realized why. That appointment stole the last glimmers of hope I had to fix this problem. I never realized how impactful even a tiny bit of hope can be. The feeling of it being gone was horrible. It was so deflating. Still is, though I'm slowly recovering to normal operating levels, I guess, just because I have to.
I'm not quite sure where to go from here. I mean, I guess there will always be prayer and the hope that someday God will just have me miraculously wake up and be able to smell, but any practical option I had was pretty much shot down right then and there. Mentally, I'm not sure I can ever really stop trying. I guess now when I try something, I'll have a much lower expectation of it working. Nothing is supposed to work, so I can try it, but I need to keep my expectations in check....like, really in check. I can keep Googling in the event something new crops up. I can still try a chiropractor or acupuncture, as there are other things both of those things might address anyway, but I guess I have to figure out at what point feeling like I have to do something will outweigh the financial wastefulness. I read a first-hand account by a patient of that "quack" in D.C., and there was a drug that specifically seemed to help him. I have no idea if I will ever find a doctor that would prescribe it, but I guess it's something to keep in mind. With every failure things might get just a little more depressing, though, so I have to take that into consideration, too.
It was not a good day. Today was better. The reality of this is never really going to be okay, but it could be worse. The extra destruction of my sliver of hope was a tough blow to take on top of it. But I'm alive and otherwise mostly healthy. I have two kids, a husband, a home, a job, and a great family that supports me. Things aren't perfect and this diminishes the daily joys a bit, but I'm still very blessed. I still have to hope that someday a miracle will happen, but I just can't count on it anymore. I guess I just have to embrace the fact that stinky people don't bother me and my kids can't gross me out. Always a bright side, right?
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