When Scents Go Strange

For most of us, smell is a qui­et com­pan­ion. It tells us when the cof­fee is ready, when the bread is gold­en, when the lilacs are in bloom. But for some, espe­cial­ly after COVID, smell becomes a trick­ster. Familiar aro­mas turn sour or metal­lic. Phantom odors linger for days, even when noth­ing is there.

I know this first­hand. Though I recov­ered from COVID years ago, only recent­ly did my sense of smell begin to play tricks on me. 

Coffee no longer smells like com­fort; some­times it smells like chem­i­cals. A phan­tom scent of smoke or rot can hang in the air for days. It’s unset­tling, and at times isolating.

I first noticed it in April of last year. My wife and I were in Nashville, Indiana, to relax and view the total solar eclipse. It was a won­der­ful trip; the weath­er coop­er­at­ed, and we had a clear view of the total­i­ty. But some­thing weird hap­pened there.

While in a gift shop, I noticed a pow­er­ful, floral/perfumy smell, appar­ent­ly ema­nat­ing from some scent­ed can­dles. I don’t like those kinds of scents any­way, so I decid­ed to wait for Jen out­side. But the odor did not sub­side. I kept smelling it for the rest of that day. Everywhere we went, that strong smell fol­lowed me.

I men­tioned to Jen that there was a strange, strong flo­ral scent all over town. She gave me a puz­zled look and said she didn’t smell any­thing unusual.

Later, it hap­pened again, quite ran­dom­ly. I would detect an odor in our house, but no one else did. Then I began to notice that famil­iar foods often tast­ed dif­fer­ent. Not bad, nec­es­sar­i­ly, just dif­fer­ent. Most of what we call taste is actu­al­ly smell; we real­ly only taste with our tongues five things: salty, sweet, bit­ter, sour, and uma­mi (savory). So I assume the odd tastes are actu­al­ly part of the olfac­to­ry (smell) sense. 

Doctors call these con­di­tions paros­mia (dis­tort­ed smells) and phan­tosmia (phan­tom smells). They’re increas­ing­ly rec­og­nized as long-term effects of COVID, appear­ing months or even years after infec­tion. Scientists believe the virus dis­rupts the del­i­cate wiring of our olfac­to­ry sys­tem, and as nerves regen­er­ate, they some­times misfire.

Coping in Daily Life

Here are some tips I’ve learned that have helped me. 

• Safe foods: Bland sta­ples like rice, pas­ta, and cucum­bers often taste more “nor­mal.”
• Cold over hot: Heat inten­si­fies odors, so chilled meals can be less distorted.
• Reset scents: A whiff of pep­per­mint oil or cit­rus peel can help ground me when phan­tom smells intrude.
• Olfactory train­ing: Sniffing four dis­tinct scents (rose, lemon, clove, euca­lyp­tus) twice dai­ly is a sim­ple exer­cise that may encour­age recovery.

I haven’t tried the last one yet, but I have found that sniff­ing pep­per­mint oil helps quite a bit for me. 

One oth­er impor­tant detail needs to be dis­cussed. Phantosmia can some­times be a sign of stroke. For per­sons at risk of stroke, or if expe­ri­enc­ing oth­er con­di­tions such as headaches, mem­o­ry prob­lems, seizures, or unex­plained mood changes, one should seek med­ical atten­tion to rule out a stroke. 

Why Share This?

Because smell is tied to mem­o­ry, joy, and com­mu­ni­ty, los­ing or dis­tort­ing it can feel like los­ing part of your­self. But talk­ing about it helps. Others in Winchester and beyond may be liv­ing with the same strange sen­so­ry shifts, won­der­ing if they’re alone. They’re not. I can tes­ti­fy to that.

I’ve learned that recov­ery is pos­si­ble, though slow. Many peo­ple improve over time, and research con­tin­ues. In the mean­time, we can sup­port one anoth­er — by shar­ing cop­ing strate­gies, by lis­ten­ing, and by acknowl­edg­ing that even invis­i­ble strug­gles deserve compassion.

If you’ve expe­ri­enced paros­mia or phan­tosmia, I invite you to share your sto­ry. Together, we can turn these strange scents into a reminder of resilience, com­mu­ni­ty, and the pow­er of hon­est storytelling.