Thanks, Sam

guilty as charged

One of my earliest symptoms of Sjogren's showed up as a decreased acuity in my sense of smell. When I say that I don't smell well, people look sideways at me and take a step or two backwards, so I have learned to phrase this symptom pretty carefully. Also called hyposmia or anosmia, you can read more about it here. 

Sometimes my broken sniffer works to my advantage, like the time we drove through the countryside after a skunk had left it's mark. I was blissfully comfortable even though John was rolling up the windows and holding his nose. 

Other times, this is a real problem. Take our latest dinner party, for example. Eight of us had settled in around our dining room table for good food and good conversation. We had finished the main course when I noticed everyone's eyes widen. My guests looked around at each other, then at me, who was blithely sipping my after dinner coffee, unaware that a seriously stinky smell was permeating the room. 

Several people shoved their chairs away from the table and began excusing themselves when I got a small whiff of what was undeniably a Sammy toot. I grabbed the edge of the tablecloth and looked down by our feet. There he was, my Sam, comfortably settled under the table, happily flatulent. 

"Wait - oh my gosh - that was Sammy!" I protested as windows were flung open, Sam banished to the basement, and everyone burst into laughter. 

I think that some of them still believe that I was the stinkee.