My vital organs are on holiday.
It was meant to be a day of celebration.
I woke up with a left undereye that was twitching like a fish under a sashimi chef’s knife. It was to twitch like that for the entire day. And then my tongue felt like it was coated with flour and it was as rubbery as a cat’s. If I were flexible enough to reach down and clean my nether regions I’m quite sure I would. My throat was sore from coughing and as rusty as Bryan Adams with a sore throat.
Still, they were bearable. Until my migraine came back from the dead to visit. My head was pounding like a bear’s war cry and my eyes were tired from lack of sleep. I decided that I needed to eat. That was when I realised my taste buds have deserted me.
Everything I ate tasted like plain flavoured rubber. I had to heap chilli onto my noodles to make it edible. Yes, it filled my stomach, but it wasn’t enjoyable at all. For dinner, J made reservations at our favourite Japanese restaurant. I thought maybe a little bit of miso might excite my tastebuds into action. Unfortunately, even my favourite Anmitsu at the end of the meal failed to revive them. So yesterday, I had a miserable ‘taste’ of what it’s like for someone to lose her sense of taste.
It tastes bitter.