In the fall of 1999, I woke up with a strong metallic taste in my mouth.
It
didn’t matter what I ate — sweet, spicy foods or plain white rice — the
aggravating sensation of iron filings wouldn’t leave. Internet searches
proved pointless. Doctors told me they hadn’t heard of metal mouth, my
nickname for it, and told me to get an upper-GI endoscopy.
Before
my taste went south, I had asked my doctor to test my blood for
hepatitis C. Why request the test? I can only guess. I had recently
undergone surgery, and while in the hospital I had heard of hep C, which
can cause a host of serious liver problems. Had hypochondria set in? I
really don’t know.
Labels: Personal Stories