Living in a partial sterile environment can lead to what I call "Smell loss" , kind of like memory loss. Things that one would smell here would be from those little alcohol pads they wipe your arm with right before stabbing your arm with a needle. You also can smell the food as it comes off of the elevator. After a while I have been able to tell what's on the tray prior to lifting the lid. The Respiratory personnel come in and will wipe down the ventilators with a wipe that looks much like a baby wipe. The difference is that these wipes have a pungent metallic smell that seems to never go away.
Then like all other health facilities there are those unmentionable sells that need no description. The things I miss are those others take for granted. The smell of Pine sol after Mom cleaned the kitchen. The smell of a campfire with all that smoke in your face. The smell of good old North Carolina red clay dirt. The smell of my paternal grandfather's Aqua Velva. My maternal grandfather's Redman. My Uncle Bobby's Kent Menthol cigarettes I would smell as he would cut my hair while I was screaming bloody murder at the age of 2. I miss the smell of my Dad's Brylcream and his famous Chili.
The smell of the woods during a summer rain. The smell of chlorine in a swimming pool would smell good to me right now. I can remember the smell of the soap bars my grandmother would put in the clothes drawers and the heavenly breakfast she and my grandfather would make every morning. The smell of freshly picked ramps and how they smelled on the stove in our ranger cabin at Mount Mitchell State Park. I worked hard to get those wild onions as I climbed down a cliff with our senior park ranger named "Poppy". From what I remember the Ramp only grows at 3500 feet in elevation and higher. It was well worth the effort as our dull hamburgers lit up with flavor. I miss the enchanting smell from the Tasty Bakery when as a policeman in Thomasville. I would stop in every morning at 4 am while my friends were making the day's supply of cakes, pies and cookies. You didn't need to eat there to gain weight, all you had to do was inhale those smells.
I miss the smell of the Banana/Apples that lay on the ground rotting near my grandfathers home in Montezuma, NC. They drew the attention of yellow jackets also. The smell of the ocean and the Bogue Sound at Emerald Isle, NC. The wonderful smells of a fall fair with all the onions, peppers, sausages, hot dogs, fried twinkies and popcorn that filled the whole area. I also associate certain smells with special places such as Kenan Stadium in Chapel Hill with the smell of the pines. The fresh cut grass at Forest Oaks Country Club the first morning of the GGO which is now the Wynndem Classic. The smell of canvas from 50 yr old Boyscout tents in the Scout Hut at Mills Home. The rich wood smell of a small country church. As you can see smells are like memories, you can get a whif of an old smell and remember the good old days. Until next time, stop and smell the Honey Suckle.
Stan The Ramblin Man
