Smelling Burnt Toast
Hi ho, MMMLOGerinos!
Okay, you've got six shopping days left. Six days to ultra-max the credit cards to create enough new debt to worry the Federal Reserve and bring smiles to corporate America's board members. But if it makes you and the fam happy for a cheery moment, what the hell.
On to more important stuff . . .
I have a very advanced and sensitive sense of smell. A couple of weeks ago I smelled burnt toast a couple of times when there was no reason, even in our neighborhood where there are often strange and exotic foreign aromas wafting over the fences. The DH, who can smell very little, said he couldn't smell toast, burnt or otherwise. And since I'd also been having an odd intermittent headache on the left side of the top of my head, I thought I should do a bit of investigating and indulge in the time-honored pastime of the matriarchal part of the family. I Googled "smelling burnt toast." Oh. My. Shouldn't have done that. Did you know there are thousands of references to smelling burnt toast? And neurologically speaking, none of it good. So, in view of my possible brain tumor, onset of epilepsy or migraine headaches, I did the only thing I could--I called my mother.
Mother is a great repository of medical knowledge. She has eighty years of often lousy health to draw from and is ever ready with a diagnosis and a huge dose of fear. Of course she'd heard of the smelling burnt toast not being a good thing, but she couldn't readily put her finger on the root cause or treatment. I didn't share with her what I'd discovered on the web as I didn't want to fuel that particular OH MY GOD fire. She wanted me to get myself in for an immediate neurological workup. I told her my gyn or my dermatologist didn't do that but I would discuss these symptoms, if I still had them, during my annual visits next month. That seemed to satisfy her for the moment and our conversations moved on to other topics such as her making her special Christmas fudge, which she hated to do because she would eat it and shouldn't because she's diabetic. Yeah??!!
I called the next expert in the family, my sister. Her answer was, "Never look up a medical symptom on the internet. It's just too scary." And we moved on to discussing our Med cruise next September. She rang off with a laugh about my smelling burnt toast. Ah well.
As luck would have it I didn't smell anything that wasn't "there" until Saturday when the DH and I went for breakfast at the Yankee Grill in Renton. Nice food and we always enjoy it. However, I kept smelling burnt toast. I began to worry until I saw them bringing out the food trays with, you guessed it, stacks of very dark toast. Yay!
There are certain angel theorists who say that the fragrance of roses accompanies angelic visitations or the Virgin Mary. And I got burnt toast . . . what's that about?
Ciao, ciao, Mmmmmmmmmmelinda
Okay, you've got six shopping days left. Six days to ultra-max the credit cards to create enough new debt to worry the Federal Reserve and bring smiles to corporate America's board members. But if it makes you and the fam happy for a cheery moment, what the hell.
On to more important stuff . . .
I have a very advanced and sensitive sense of smell. A couple of weeks ago I smelled burnt toast a couple of times when there was no reason, even in our neighborhood where there are often strange and exotic foreign aromas wafting over the fences. The DH, who can smell very little, said he couldn't smell toast, burnt or otherwise. And since I'd also been having an odd intermittent headache on the left side of the top of my head, I thought I should do a bit of investigating and indulge in the time-honored pastime of the matriarchal part of the family. I Googled "smelling burnt toast." Oh. My. Shouldn't have done that. Did you know there are thousands of references to smelling burnt toast? And neurologically speaking, none of it good. So, in view of my possible brain tumor, onset of epilepsy or migraine headaches, I did the only thing I could--I called my mother.
Mother is a great repository of medical knowledge. She has eighty years of often lousy health to draw from and is ever ready with a diagnosis and a huge dose of fear. Of course she'd heard of the smelling burnt toast not being a good thing, but she couldn't readily put her finger on the root cause or treatment. I didn't share with her what I'd discovered on the web as I didn't want to fuel that particular OH MY GOD fire. She wanted me to get myself in for an immediate neurological workup. I told her my gyn or my dermatologist didn't do that but I would discuss these symptoms, if I still had them, during my annual visits next month. That seemed to satisfy her for the moment and our conversations moved on to other topics such as her making her special Christmas fudge, which she hated to do because she would eat it and shouldn't because she's diabetic. Yeah??!!
I called the next expert in the family, my sister. Her answer was, "Never look up a medical symptom on the internet. It's just too scary." And we moved on to discussing our Med cruise next September. She rang off with a laugh about my smelling burnt toast. Ah well.
As luck would have it I didn't smell anything that wasn't "there" until Saturday when the DH and I went for breakfast at the Yankee Grill in Renton. Nice food and we always enjoy it. However, I kept smelling burnt toast. I began to worry until I saw them bringing out the food trays with, you guessed it, stacks of very dark toast. Yay!
There are certain angel theorists who say that the fragrance of roses accompanies angelic visitations or the Virgin Mary. And I got burnt toast . . . what's that about?
Ciao, ciao, Mmmmmmmmmmelinda
posted by MMMelinda at 8:36 AM
