I mentioned cilia a couple of months back, but it’s always good to repeat their mechanics, or in my case, the lack thereof. We have cilia throughout our body, but in the nose, they wave back and forth, pulling in odor molecules and sending them to the brain for processing. Cilia also aid in moving dust and mucous (my main nemesis) out of your body, sweeping them from your nose down through the throat and the rest of the GI tract, where they can be flushed out of your system.

My cilia do not work, so none of these processes happen naturally for me like they do for everyone else. This disorder is known as Primary Ciliary Dyskinesia or PCD. It’s very rare. In addition, out of all the patients with PCD, less than half can have what I do: dextrocardia and complete situs inversus (all internal organs are reversed), which is known as Kartagener’s Syndrome, making it even more rare (talking less than half of 1%).

These ‘odor molecules’ are basically stuck in my nose, let alone being sent to my brain, since my cilia are all tangled up and non-functioning. So I rarely have a sense of smell. I cannot smell gas, my food, or fresh-cut cedar wood (I tried last month to the disbelief of my neighbor—I had my nose right to the chunk of log he brought over. Nothing.) I also cannot smell if my dog gets sprayed by a skunk (I have a great story about this and will share it another time). However, I will add that I sometimes will catch a faint scent, but it’s rare and requires the right time of day, when I did my nebulizer, the weather, etc.—let’s say many factors have to be perfectly aligned. And many times, I have phantom scents. Four weeks ago, I could not stop smelling buttered corn! It went on for ten days. Ask Eric.

Anyhow, this brings me to my flowers. Some of you might've already seen my video about them a couple of weeks ago on Instagram or TikTok. I shared that my lack of smell doesn't stop me from growing and picking flowers and that I can see only the beauty with every stem I snip.

I took some pictures, as I usually do, of my arrangements because they bring me so much joy. Proud even. I also like sending the images to my mom. But while I was talking to my life coach, who is helping me meet some goals (this blog is one of them), I wondered why I treat flowers with such care even though I can't smell them. Yet I don't take care of myself very well because I'm so angry about this disease I was born with.

This is something I've been reflecting on deeply. Why do I show such tenderness to all my blooms, even some of them weeds in many cases, but struggle to extend the same kindness to myself? Why can’t I see the beauty in what I can do and what I have overcome?

But I'm learning. Like my flowers, I deserve care and attention—to be nurtured and valued by my own hands. It's easy to care for something external when not caught up in the frustration of my own limitations. This blog is a little part of that journey. It’s a step towards treating myself with the same admiration I give to my floral arrangements.

We all deserve to thrive and flourish.