Definitely my sight. Then I would still be able to hear music and sing and play the piano. I could get a seeing-eye dog. I love golden retrievers. This would work out great.
Po doggy picture from here.No.
Definitely my hearing. I could then still see the beauty of the world. I know sign language. I'd be set if I lost my hearing. Yes, I'd like to go deaf please if I'm going to lose one of my senses.
It never entered into my preconceived notions of all that is sad, and romantic, and tragic in my highly vivid 16 year old imagination to lose my sense of taste and smell.
And that's where I'm at. It's hardly romantic. And it all started last July.
It's not completely gone. not yet anyway.
On my best smell/taste days, I can detect about 25%. But on most days 5-10%. Some days there's nothing there at all.
Yesterday was one of my good smell/taste days. And while babysitting two toddlers I learned (while changing them) that they had Rotavirus. It is extremely pungent. I was like, "What the heck? Why do I have to smell this of all things?"
It took a few minutes to decide to bother their mother and inform her in case she wanted to call the Pediatrician before they closed for the day.
And it took me another few minutes of observing her daughter talking sweetly and quite closely to Peach and my twins drinking out of her children's sippy cups to help me make the decision to send them home. RIGHT THEN.
I felt really bad about sending them home a half-hour early. Her hubby is deployed and this is why I take her kids on Monday afternoons-- to give her a break. She felt bad that her kids likely contaminated mine. She couldn't know, ya know?
I, however, have had the pleasure of at least four bouts of Rotavirus run through our family and I know how to recognize it.
Anyhow, last night at about oh, midnight, I had a meltdown. I was confused and overwhelmed and downright annoyed that I had to add sanitizing the toys and everything in the living room and dining room on top of everything else that overwhelms me.
I lamented to Danny about my nose and its state of affairs. I even told him,
"If you decide to remarry after my nose offs me, pick a wife that is highly organized and efficient."
All I got was a mumbled,
"You're not gonna die." *zzzzzzzz* *snore*