What’s Missing

This probably should have been a “Sunday Story” – but here we are on Monday, and I have a story to tell.

Testing

I’ve never tested positive for Covid.  But, I’m a sixty-five year old “retired” guy, so I don’t necessarily take Covid tests often.  Jenn and I don’t intentionally “isolate” ourselves, but we aren’t out in the “workplace” every day, and we can go days without direct contact with other people.  So if we don’t feel good, we just hang out at home.

But somewhere in the last few months, Covid must have come a-calling.  January neither one of us felt very good.  We both took several Covid tests, and were negative each time. But we both felt lousy.  I can tell you the two days I felt good from New Year’s to the end of the month. We thought it was just the typical winter cold or flu.  There was a lot of NCIS and Law and Order SVU on TV:  and we spent most of the month by the fire in our lounge chairs.

So why do I think we had Covid then?  

What’s Missing

We have five dogs.  Five dogs means that there is a lot of “poop” to pick up in the backyard, several days a week.  And that’s my job, the “poopologist” with the special tools and bucket, gathering up the poop.  The dogs think they’re very important, as I gather all their poop, and they get all excited while I’m out there.  But, since January, I do notice a big difference.

I can’t smell poop.

In fact, I can’t smell the coffee in the morning.  I don’t smell the rain coming in, or the steaks on the grill, or the diesel fumes of the truck in front of my Jeep.  For a man who has prided himself on an acute sense of smell (the result, of course, of a “prominent” nose); it’s gone.  The only thing I think I smell – dust.  You know that smell when you first turn the heater on in October, that smell of cooked dust coming out of the ducts?  I smell that, all the time.  

I was a track coach, and I got really used to the smell: old shoes, moldy sweats in the locker room, and sweat soaked athletes after a tough workout.  I’m still track officiating, but there’s no smells there – at least that I can smell.

Smell, by the way, is closely associated with taste. Half of the “good part” of eating, is smelling the food being prepared, and getting that anticipatory “sniff” just before a bite hits your mouth. I can still taste, some, but without smell it just isn’t the same. How bad is that? We had scrambled eggs and sausage yesterday for “Sunday” breakfast. I had a bite, then went and got the “hot sauce” out of the refrigerator. I never use hot sauce, at least, I never used to use hot sauce. But I did yesterday – maybe I lost some of my sense of taste as well.

Brain Fog

Not being able to smell is actually annoying.  But last week I had a different symptom, which was a lot more concerning.  I woke up one morning, and my brain just wasn’t working.  I struggled through the morning “ritual”:  feeding the dogs, cleaning up the kitchen, putting the dishes away.  Then  I sat down in front of the computer, and put the dreaded “blank page” up on the screen.  Nothing happened – I couldn’t form a thought on paper.  It wasn’t like being hung over – hangovers make you feel bad, but don’t stop you from thinking how bad you feel.

 I went to the hardware store – and couldn’t remember what WD-40 was called (it’s a penetrating oil).  Instead I asked for 10W-40; that’s a motor oil for the car, and Steve at the store looked kind of incredulous as he pointed out the entire wall with the 24” letters saying “MOTOR OIL”.  

And then I went to Kroger’s – and I had “one job”:  get macaroni and cheese.  Jenn loves it, and we buy it all the time.  And the key is to buy one that doesn’t need milk, because we generally don’t have milk around.  I spent ten minutes examining boxes, discovering which of the several versions of Kraft Mac and Cheese didn’t need milk.  Finally, I figured it out – then still ended up buying five boxes that needed milk.

When I came home, I found myself missing words I needed, unable to find the right ones to explain what I wanted to say.  Again, I’m sixty-five.  Did I have a stroke and not realize it?  But all of the “physical” signs were fine so I did what any good “Dahlman” does when something isn’t working right.  I went to bed.

Testing-Testing

A couple of hours later I woke up, and everything was normal.  Every word was there when I needed it, the blank page on the computer screen wasn’t insurmountable, I knew the difference between penetrating oil and motor oil and Kraft Mac and Cheese with and without milk.  

Another Covid symptom is called “Brain Fog”.  I get what that is now.  For one morning in April, my brain was definitely more than fogged.  It was what my mother would have called a “pea-souper”.  But a few hours later, I was functioning fine, at a track meet, every event and action in place.

So now I wake up in the morning and do a “mental agility test*”.  As I prep five dog bowls I think about my personal “challenge”:  name the nine members of the Supreme Court, the original five Rolling Stones, the Christmas flowers I can never remember in December, and the name of the Republican Congressman who represents us in Washington. Oh, and the two vegetables I always struggle with – broccoli and brussels sprouts.   If I can do that, then there’s no “fog” going on today.

I took another Covid test this morning, while I was writing this essay.  It’s negative, and it’s out into the world for another track meet in the rain tonight.  But somewhere in the past few months, in spite of three Pfizer shots and months of mask wearing, I suspect Covid found its way in.  My symptoms aren’t a huge deal – but I hope they sneak out soon, the same way they slipped in.

(*Answer key for the “test”: 1 – Thomas, Alito, Gorsuch, Kavanaugh, Barrett, Roberts, Breyer, Sotomayor, Kagan; 2-Jagger, Richards, Woods, Wyman, Watts; 3- Poinsettias; 4- Balderson; 5-broccoli is the “tree”, brussel’s sprouts the lettuce head.)

The Sunday Story Series

Author: Marty Dahlman

I'm Marty Dahlman. After forty years of teaching and coaching track and cross country, I've finally retired!!! I've also spent a lot of time in politics, working campaigns from local school elections to Presidential campaigns.