The aroma of salmon on the grill tickles my nose, my mouth waters in anticipation of a fine dinner to come. When served, my eyes hungrily take in the moist pinkness striped by a hot grill, the flakiness revealed as I separate the first bite from the serving. Then I close my lips over my fork and tenderly munch on the succulent treat.
But the salmon taste I remember so well is not there. Replacing it is a peculiar flavor bearing only a distant relationship to what I expected seconds earlier. A blanket of disappointment settles over me as anticipation gives way to the startling reality of yet another unexpected taste.
These sensory tricks began shortly after Diagnosis Day. My “mouth tastes” change from time to time without correlation to other changes such as medication, amount of sleep or diet changes. An early “mouth taste” was salt. Food and drink did not dissipate or mask the extreme saltiness of everything I ate. This effect gradually disappeared, to be replaced with another “flavor.” Several cycles of taste distortion have come and gone since then, each one unique.
Previously, food was a major pleasure for me. My appetite was robust, my imagination fired by recollections of superb meals. Now the idea of food is often repellant, or triggers nausea. Nevertheless, I eat more, searching for a flavor that matches my expectations and memory. To date, I have avoided weight gain. As food begins to taste better, that may become a problem, but for now, the search continues.
Until next time, bon appétit!
Copyright 2008
www.lindalater.blogpost.com
Posted July 24, 2008
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