Pray For My Palate

I knew I had the China Virus when I woke up with no smell or taste in November.

Two months have past. I still haven’t regained use of my taste buds or fragrance sensors.

The only way I’m able to smell is by lowering my nose into a container of spice and inhaling deeply. Even then I’m only picking up a faint sensation. I can’t smell strong alcohol. Today, I was sniffing a bottle of Scotch to try and jump start the snout, and it was like apple juice.

So, the fun has been let out of eating. That’s a bummer, but it’s not the end of the world. What feels like the end of the world is that I cannot enjoy cigars. Not really anyhow.

Fine cigars are my anchor of evening relaxation. Smoking aged tobacco is a spiritual and wholesome fellowship with nature.

At least it was until the China Virus killed my face holes.

The nicotine euphoria of a cigar is still a good nightcap. And if I close my eyes and really search for the flavors notes, I’m sometimes lucky enough to pick up some light wood or a dull earth. But the complexity, the richness, the sweet release of the retrohale – dead.

I’ve been smoking budget cigars everyday. Why waste $15 sticks on a comatose tongue? So, each day I walk past 150 premium cigars aging and looking delicious in my cedar box humidor. I’m reading stories of supposedly permanent China Virus-related taste and smell loss.

Please pray for my palate’s safe return.

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