Losing my sense of smell at 19.

I was 19 and going through the check out at the supermarket with a friend- when we got outside she remarked to me how badly the reusable bags that the lady before us was using smelt of cat urine. I hadn’t smelt a thing. She couldn't believe it, how strong that smell was, and yet for me- nothing! From then I tested more things and - nope, not a whiff of smell.

A doctor diagnosed allergic rhinitis, inflammation of the upper passages of the nose; air simply couldn't get to the sense organ parts of my nose. Six months of desensitisation injections returned my sense of smell, but it was different, somehow tuned more to the negative odours of mould and rubbish and off milk and body odour. The system seemed to return to our primitive and primary use of smell as a danger signalling sense. To appreciate beautiful scents took unnatural concentration and without giving it much thought, the pleasures of scent were relegated in importance in my life; the visual, tactile and auditory experiences filled their place.

Exploring the world of perfume and the essences of plants, trees and flowers has been a re-education in my sense of smell. Like a neuroplasticity exercise, reading journals and books on perfume and scent had heightened my abilities even before delving into perfume composition. My everyday experience of walking past gardens and sitting close to the earth had new complexity as my perceptivity was heightened and more brain connections were made to reinforce the experiences.

My nose is now a business asset, one frequently decommissioned for weeks at a time as we trudge through day-care borne respiratory illness in an ever-revolving fashion. The faculties of sense of smell are so delicately influenced by our environment and illness that I now treasure the days that I can sit with my samples and appreciate the bouquet in front of me.