Recovering Catholics have the best stories. Claire, you're funny.
Good news/bad news: My appetite is back.
On any given day, I have the appetite of a Nordic lumberjack. A maternal family trait. I recently heard a recording of an uncle who recounted serving in the Pacific during WWII. Suffering seasickness, he was told to keep eating and drinking through the nausea to ward off becoming weak. He excelled at it. My takeaway from this story was "we Duffeks can eat even lousy food anytime, anywhere, under even imminent-death conditions."
With that in mind, I feel sorry for Jujy having to skip eating, as you do, before surgery. Hope her surgeon had a good breakfast though.
Well, I can't talk about smells, since they are all intangibles to me. I opened a new package of coffee this a.m. and could detect absolutely nothing. This is the longest I've gone without wearing perfumes since I started on Basenotes.
In answer to your thoughtful queries, my friends, I can cheerfully report that my lungs are making less of a one-man-band sound at the end of each exhalation and more of a kitten-down-a-well "mew, mew, mew" descending echo.