It was a Monday evening, six weeks ago, when it first hit me that I had completely lost my sense of smell. A friend had bought me some new perfume, and I sprayed a liberal amount on my wrist to check it out. Nothing. I pinched the bridge of my nose, then blew it, hard, then took a deep breath through my nostrils, but still there was nothing. “I haven’t smelt anything for a couple of weeks,” I told my friend, only realising that was the case in that moment.

Had I lost my sight or my hearing, I would have been aware immediately, so how was it that I was not even properly conscious of my lack of smell until the moment with the perfume?

Smell is the neglected sense, and yet so important. You really don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. Unless you work as a perfumer, or a wine taster, it’s not like you rely on it for work. I have long had problems with my sense of smell. I suffer from allergies, and also have dodgy sinuses. On a few occasions, when they have caused me pain, I have been offered a minor operation that might correct them, but there is a small chance that such surgery can go wrong and result in the patient losing all sense of smell on a permanent basis.

As I stood in my friend’s kitchen, covered in perfume, I wondered if this was it for ever, that I would never smell anything again.

Next stop Google, to see if losing all sense of smell can indicate a more serious problem. Of course it could. After I had stopped panicking about brain tumours, I focussed on the possibility that I had a sinus infection. Most people who lose their sense of smell regain it after a time, but some never do. The smell receptors can also deteriorate with age – half of those over the age of 60 lose at least part of their sense of smell and taste. The condition is known as hyposmia. Occasionally the smell does return but in a distorted way, so that everything smells bad. This is known as parosmia.

Although medical advice suggested a visit to the GP if smell does not return in a week or two, I could not face it. Having read about referrals for CT scans to look for blockages in the nasal passage, anxious, hypochondriac me wasn’t at all keen.

Over the next six weeks I found myself in situations where smell was being referred to constantly. A friend had what she thought was blocked drains in her home, and asked if I could be in when the plumber arrived as she was away. I arrived at the same time as the plumber, and found him holding his nose behind a tissue, telling me the smell of dead rat was overpowering. I smelt nothing, and, being phobic of rats, tried to feel relieved. I could not.

Food became boring fuel, and wine lost its appeal (I still persevered, however – just bought the cheaper plonk). I was due to write a food review of a Lebanese restaurant, and had to focus on the colours and textures of the food.

That night I woke after a bad dream and walked all through the house checking that the fire alarms worked. If not, how would I smell the smoke if there was a fire?

I was given a bunch of flowers by a neighbour for feeding her cat, and burst into tears when she told me she hoped they made my house smell like spring.

When putting on clean clothes, after a shower during which I couldn’t enjoy the smell of soap and shampoo, I worried in case they were somehow contaminated by a bad smell – what if one of the cats had sneaked in and slept on the laundry?

My lack of smell became almost obsessional. I had panic attacks, feeling claustrophobic and cut off from the world.

Then one morning, having dreamed I could smell coal burning in a stove in the house I was born, I woke up and literally smelt the coffee. I had guests staying and they had got to the bean grinder before me. It was glorious. I must have looked mad, running around the house, smelling flowers, clothes, cough medicine, Deep Heat back pain treatment. All smelt glorious.

One week later, I can still smell and taste, although not all the time, and sometimes faintly. But the dread I had during those smell-free weeks was that if I never smelt again, how would I ever recall key moments in my life? How would I remember Charlie perfume along with my teenage years? Would memories fade along with my ability to experience the joy of a unique scent?