Olfactory memories

We were busying about the house Saturday morning, preparing to host a retirement party for one of my co-workers that night. I had just gone outside and started setting up chairs and tables when a scent caught my attention. I paused and sniffed around and then went back to what I was doing. But no, that scent. What was that? I walked over to our bedroom window to see if it was open. Was something coming from inside? It was a fresh scent. Clean. I was feeling something churn inside me. Maybe someone nearby was doing their laundry. Suddenly I could not rid the picture from my mind of the two nightgowns I wore when I got home from the hospital. They were the same nightgown, but one was pink and one was yellow. I was flooded with the feeling of being incredibly weak and sick. What the heck was going on? And where was that scent coming from? I went inside to investigate.

"What is that scent?" I asked Jeremy who was scrubbing out the toilet in our bathroom.

"What scent?"

"The one in the guest bathroom. What is that?"

"Oh. That's the Febreeze," he said. I walked into the bathroom and took a deep breath. Yep. That was it. Mystery solved. I went back outside, but I couldn't go back to work. I sat down on the bench by the fountain and closed my eyes. I could see it all. I could see myself in the bathroom after my surgery. I could see myself emptying my ostomy bag. The smell from the bag was horrible. They made special drops you could order from the ostomy supply companies to try to help with the smell. I didn't think they worked so well. We used a lot of Febreeze back then, apparently, though I didn't remember that until that day.

I began to sob. I went back into the bathroom where Jeremy was, my face scrunched up in sobs, "That scent took me back. I'm so thankful I don't have a bag anymore Jeremy. It was horrible. I hated it. I'm so thankful," I told him. He wrapped his arms around me and told me he knew.

Sunday morning we took Django for a walk. "I'm still prepared for you to end up with an ostomy again Abby," he said.

"I know Jeremy. I am too. But for now I'm going to enjoy the time that I don't have one." It's not something we talk about a lot. But it needs to be said from time to time. We need to prepare ourselves mentally for it so it doesn't devastate us if it happens. And it won't devastate us. I just have this feeling though, that that part of my life isn't over. Maybe that's lingering fear talking, I don't know. Maybe it's my body telling my mind something the rest of me doesn't know yet. Maybe the feeling will dwindle with time. But for now, it's where we are.