Minnesota Prairie Roots

AT 7:11 PM TUESDAY I TEXTED this to my oldest daughter: Do not forget you have super sensitive taste buds & lick an envelope flap. Really bad idea.

I was the one who forgot, not her. I was the one with the hypersensitive taste buds. I was the one who grabbed my bottled water and ran to the bathroom to repeatedly rinse the strong taste from my mouth. I was the one with overly-active taste buds, just another of the many sensory overload symptoms I’ve experienced following a virus in early January.

Of all the past and present symptoms—from imbalance; short-lived vertigo (only when prone): ear ringing, popping and pain and feeling of moisture in my ear; sensitivity to light, sound, smell and touch; feelings of ice water coursing through my body; feeling like I’ve been slapped on the face; headaches; and more I’m likely forgetting right now—this taste issue proved particularly challenging. It landed me in the ER one Thursday afternoon recently with swelling of my tongue and lips and a feeling of my throat closing. That’s scary, darned scary.

WEARY OF OATMEAL

Thereafter, for the next week, I could eat only bland foods and only small amounts. Oatmeal. Graham crackers. A blueberry proved too intense. So did a grape. It tasted awful. In five days, I lost nine pounds. Not a weigh loss program I recommend. Anything I ate caused an allergic reaction, but thankfully not enough for a return ER visit.

I couldn’t brush my teeth because my taste buds couldn’t tolerate even a non-flavored toothpaste. Toothpaste set my mouth afire. Eventually, after contacting my dentist’s office, I tried baking soda. That tasted like someone dumped a load of salt in my mouth.

JUST WANTING TO BE WELL

To say it was a hellish week would be an understatement. I was scared. Frustrated. Anxious. Wanting answers and hope. More than once, Randy heard me state, “I just want to feel better.” He was patient, encouraging, supportive, as he has been through the past six months of multiple building symptoms.

Back at the end of May already, I noticed toothpaste seemed especially minty. I told two of the doctors I was seeing of this occasional taste oddity. That went nowhere and perhaps I did not push the point enough. And then came that Thursday afternoon ER trip and my taste buds run amok.

TIME TO CALM THOSE NERVES IN MY BRAIN

It was at my ER follow-up visit with my primary care doctor that I found hope in a physician with deep compassion and care. I could see both in his eyes, hear both in his words. He pledged to try what he could to help me. He prescribed a medication to help calm the overactive nerves in my brain which control the senses. After one dose, I was already feeling relief. My taste buds are back to normal. I can eat without feeling like the food I just put in my mouth is starting a fire. No more throat, tongue or lip swelling. If it continues to work, and I have no reason to think otherwise, then I am grateful.

A THEORY, GUESS OR WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT

This is all a bit of a guessing game, a try and see what works process. Even my family doctor’s diagnosis of peripheral sensory neuropathy seems a best guess. The sensory part fits for sure. His theory is that the virus I had in January was COVID, even though I self-tested negative twice for the virus. Those home tests, he said, can be inaccurate if the tester doesn’t quite do things right. I am beginning to believe more and more that he’s right, that I am experiencing post-COVID symptoms.

PHYSICAL THERAPY CONTINUES

I continue with vestibular rehab therapy to retrain my brain to compensate for the irreversibly-damaged 8^th vestibular nerve in my right ear. That nerve controls balance. My initial diagnoses of vestibular neuritis and Meniere’s Disease (due to hearing loss caused by a virus in 2011) remain.

All of this is a lot. These are diseases that I must learn to live with and manage. I have good days and bad. But I am determined, working hard at therapy, getting out and about to build up my sensory tolerance. A recent attempt to dine out at a restaurant proved overwhelming. But I managed a dental cleaning with a sensory accommodating hygienist. A trip to a big box store nearly proved too much given the music, the people, all the visual stuff. I managed an outdoor concert with an ear plug in my good ear. I struggled to get through a meeting with a financial planner when I had to listen closely and engage in conversation. I am beginning to understand my limits, yet try to push myself just over, to challenge myself without experiencing full-blown symptoms.

WITH GRATITUDE

Onward I go. I want to pause and thank you, my dear readers, for your ongoing encouragement and support. I’ve needed both, welcomed both, felt so very loved. I am grateful. I told Randy, “I have the best blog readers!” You are. The best.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling