Senses: A Two-Way Street

I like to read the posts in ListUniverse... always a bit quirky and sometimes informative. Today's post was about the myth that there are only 5 senses, but the author cited this article in Wikipedia. According to this source, there are over 9. My first reaction was "great, more ways to feel pain." But on second thought, the road of pain travels both ways. One direction is misery, but the other leads to joy. For my own benefit, here are some examples of the joy of senses.

Sight: the opposite of sight is blindness, and some would say that the failure to see beauty is a form of blindness. Today, I choose to see and appreciate the color of the trees in my yard, even the leaves in the gutter; the sleek blackness of our new kittens; the way the wind tickles the pine branches of the blue spruce outside my window.

Hearing: the opposite of hearing is deafness, and as with sight, the same rules apply. Today, I choose to turn a deaf ear to the incessant barking of my dog (by bringing her inside) and hear instead the purring of kittens in my lap. Online radio saves me the onerous task of deciding what to listen to, and the music of the Baroque period seems to soothe my soul the fastest. Right now I'm listening to a station that broadcasts Baroque music 24/7.

Taste: the opposite of taste is ageusia, and I'm very thankful that I don't suffer from that. My mother does following a course of radiation therapy for oral cancer. While the cancer is gone, her ability to taste may be forever changed. Today, I can salivate over the anticipation of a feast on Thanksgiving. And I can hope that my mother will take some joy in it as well.

Smell: the opposite of smell is anosmia, and I am guilty of wishing for it sometimes. There is something about fibro (I've heard) that amplifies the smell of everything. I also have "phantom" smells, which means I smell things that aren't there. These are likely memories that are triggered by who knows what. So I smell perfume that isn't there among some unpleasant ghostly smells. Choosing to smell something pleasant is indeed a challenge for me. But I can smell a turkey. And for some odd reason, all the pets that truly "belong" to me have feet that smell like Fritos. No kidding. And smelling my pets' Frito feet makes me happy in a really odd way. Of course, there's always the smell of my husband, but this is a family show.

Touch: according to Wikipedia, "The loss or impairment of the ability to feel anything touched is called tactile anesthesia." Like with the rest of the traditional senses, those that experience fibro also experience an amplification of the sense of touch. Hair, armpits, skin anywhere, can be overly sensitive to the touch. But today, I am enjoying the feel of kitten fur, the warmth of a blanket over my feet, and the comfort of a heating pad.

More senses tomorrow, or at least soon.