A.Word.A.Day -- AWADmail Issue 1139

Ten years ago my right vestibular nerve was removed because of a schwannoma. My left vestibular nerve is usually very good at keeping me balanced, but with mono hearing it’s a challenge to identify the source of a sound. With two ears I had stereo, but with one good ear, when I hear a strange sound I have to spin 360 deg. to try to locate its source. The most recent episode of confusion occurred when I thought my brand new washing machine was making a clatter, but it turned out to be the lid of a pan simmering on the cooktop in the kitchen. It took me ten or fifteen minutes to sort that out because I couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from.
-Carol Bobb, Whangarei, New Zealand (carol.lew xtra.co.nz)

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The sense that I’ve been missing since 1991 because of a car crash is my sense of smell; I have anosmia. No one can tell that I have anosmia by looking at or listening to me but it can have significant impact on my life. The thing that first made me know that I have it is that the flavor of my food and drink was greatly reduced or in some cases removed altogether. Flavors are primarily sensed as aroma, especially coffee: I have no idea what “flavor” of coffee I’m drinking ... it all tastes like coffee. I can’t smell the aroma added to natural gas, which could be fatal to me, but I also can’t smell skunk, much to my delight. I have to pay close attention to the expiration dates on food because the smell test is meaningless. I recently found out that Ben of Ben and Jerry’s has anosmia which partly explains why their ice cream has such intense flavors. Adjusting to anosmia wasn’t terribly difficult for me but sometimes I’m overcome by an intense wish that I could once again smell the personal aroma of the ones I love ... probably the biggest loss from my lost sense.
-Don Fearn, Duluth, Minnesota (pooder charter.net)

After a brain infection two years ago, I’d wake thinking “Where did I put that?”, referring to my left hand which seemed to be just something attached to me, but not of me. I’d often find it on top of my head or pinned under my back.
-Melinda Gordon, Chicago, Illinois (melingo live.com)

I inherited two very influential genes from my father, a retinal disease called Retinitis Pigmentosa and another unnamed trait, that of extraordinary hearing. The former has now left me with very little remaining eyesight, yet my hearing is what I call my superpower. I once astonished an audiologist when she realized I was able to hear tones slightly higher than a dog whistle. I hear all manner of things most humans can’t hear. Several years ago, my guide dog and I were waiting to be served in my local post office. A woman stood at the wicket, counting her change, and I heard a coin fall to the ceramic tile floor. When she made no effort to retrieve it, I said, “Excuse me, but you just dropped a dime.” The woman glanced down, picked up the coin, and when she spotted me and my guide dog, she asked the obvious question: “how did you know it was a dime?” My answer was just as obvious, at least to me. “It sounded like a dime.”
-Bob Berrigan, Alexandria, Canada (sleetburger bell.net)

An acquaintance of mine is hyperosmic. One day during the pandemic he posted, “Dear anonymous fellow commuter: You didn’t brush your teeth this morning, and you think that because you’re wearing a COVID mask the rest of us in the subway car couldn’t tell. But I could. Trust me.”
-Bryan Todd, Lincoln, Nebraska (bryansink yahoo.com)

Over the course of having five babies with smelly diapers, who became “Mom, smell this!” kids and then sweaty hormonal teenagers, I became microsmatic on demand. They grew up a long time ago, but I can still turn off my sense of smell when needed.
-Mary Treder, Puerto Peñasco, Mexico

I use the Columbus school of typing’s method: discover and land on. 😂
-John Chamberlin, Falls Church, Virginia (jbcblues gmail.com)

Proprioception disorder is not uncommon in veterans. The VA is just starting to study it re repetitive motion/impact, chemical/parasite/disease-induced neurological damage.
-John Craw, Glenford, Ohio (thecrawh gmail.com)

I’m an avid birder by avocation, and, based on the comments by other birders I’ve got exceptional hearing (esp. for a 64-year old who did listen to his share of very loud rock-n-roll in the teenage and young adult years). On the other hand, and especially subsequent to what was a very mild case of COVID, my sense of smell and taste has significantly diminished; I don’t notice at ALL what my wife says is the whiff of cat urine in the room where we keep our feline companions’ litter boxes. Spicy or flavorful foods seem a bit blander than they did. That could be an effect of age, or an after-effect of my otherwise mild COVID case. I suppose that’s a fair trade-off: I get to practice my avocation equipped with one heightened sense, and DON’T get bothered by the unavoidable after-effects of having three cats in the house!
-Marc Chelemer, Tenafly, New Jersey (mc2496 att.com)

My son is autistic. I am neurotypical and I had to learn a lot about neurodiversity. One of the first things I learned was that we have seven senses: the usual five plus vestibular and proprioception. Autistic people often process sensory information in different ways. The world can be too loud, too bright and too overwhelming. My son’s practical issues with proprioception became evident when he was learning to write. He was not getting feedback from the muscles and joints in his fingers about how hard to press and repeatedly broke pencil leads and tore through the paper. He had occupational therapy for years to help him with this issue. Other autistic people need a weighted blanket or other forms of deep pressure to calm their nervous system and be able to sleep.
-Tracy Blues, Cape Town, South Africa (blues.tracy gmail.com)

I am an endodontist, specialising in root canal treatments. In this field we need specialised proprioception, working with our two fingers as we are unable to see what we are doing! Even eye and brain surgeons can “see” what they are doing with special instruments. Although we use magnification to see a lot of what we do, the most important part is near the root tip, and there we work by feel, and are unable to see, which I believe is unique to our surgical specialty.
-Carlo Castellucci, Hong Kong, China (carlocastellucci yahoo.com)

My superpower, which involves touch, sight, smell, and taste, is rearranging leftovers to fit more in the fridge no matter how little space seems available.
-Brenda De Silva, Port of Spain, Trinidad (bjtcdesil gmail.com)

From birth, I have had trouble with depth perception related to extremely poor vision in one eye. I developed lots of unconscious coping strategies along the way. For instance - I only realized in my 50s that I always walk close to a wall, or touch objects with my hands as I walk by them. This was noticed by a balance therapist, not me! Now in my mid-60s, I have lost most feeling in the bottoms of my feet, so my brain no longer receives that essential balancing information anymore... falls are more frequent, and completely unexpected. I’m upright and walking... then I am on the ground. Yikes. How do I deal with this? With a great deal of humility (not my superpower), and a robust sense of humor!
-Lori Kohler, Thomasville, Georgia (kohlert2 gmail.com)

I first learned the word proprioception 60 years ago in an introductory biology course in college. As my professor explained, it is,”knowing where you are relative to yourself and your surroundings.”
Now, with diabetes and the attendant peripheral neuropathy, my sense of it is diminished. I have a hard time with walking and with balance (a cane has become my companion), and items slide through my fingers and fall to the floor because I fail to realize I don’t have a grip. Proprioception has shifted from an autonomic, taken-for-granted background sense to a trait that constantly needs to be taken into consideration for my every move.
-David Hoyler, Lee, New Hampshire (dwhoyler yahoo.com)

Our book group just finished reading Maggie O’Farrell’s memoir “I Am, I Am, I Am”. In it she describes the long-lasting effects of a childhood bout of encephalitis, which left her with cerebellar damage, including a lot of damage to her proprioceptive ability. She bumps into things, can’t reliably touch her thumb to her nose, and has a poor sense of how far to reach to grasp something.
-Judy Purvis, Durham, North Carolina (judypurvis921 gmail.com)