I think the universe hates me. Maybe I’ve done something in a past lifetime to deserve this fucked up karma or maybe in this lifetime. Maybe I killed too many boxelder bugs and ants and now I am being punished for being unkind to insects. I really hate boxelder bugs.

For the second time in my life, I have completely lost my sense of smell and taste. THIS HAS HAPPENED TO ME TWICE. TWICE!!!

If you’ve been following me for a while now, you know that in December 2020 I earned the badge of honor of catching the OG COVID-19 strain and lost my sense and smell completely. I was completely anosmic (no smell) for almost three months before developing parosmia (distorted smell). Since March of 2021, I have been on a slow non-linear winding road gaining and losing “safe” foods. It was until chemo that I had a huge break through and meat finally became edible! Not tasty, just edible. AND IT WAS GLORIOUS. I have learned to survive on pesto noodles and peach cups. I am the seagull of parosmia: a survivor and will try anything as long as it doesn’t kill me.

And here we are, four days into my second infection and I have lost my smell and taste. And I have cancer. Like I was told that chemo would rob me of my taste and smell, but chemo was kind enough to let me keep that small morsel of hope and joy. But COVID is a bitch. A fucking bitch. Fuck it makes me so mad that people don’t take it seriously. Honestly I feel like giving up. My health is so fucked right now. So fucked.

I want to sit in my pity party for a while and cry and be upset. This isn’t fucking fair. I was still a COVID longhauler when I tested positive on Monday for COVID. Like…. make it make sense. And if I have to start over with parosmia AGAIN I may just fully lose it.

I am too pissed off to suggest a song for you to listen to. No song of the day; just the sound of my tears rushing down my cheeks and me screaming into the void.

FUCK.