Over the last couple of days, a sore throat had me down for the count. I could barely talk, my body ached, and every time I swallowed, it felt like someone was twisting a knife in my throat. I buckled from the pain. If it weren’t for a love of stuffing my face, and I probably wouldn’t have eaten.
And there was no escaping it at night. The constant pain of swallowing wouldn’t let me sleep. I put a towel on my pillow, hoping that I could drool all night long instead of swallowing. My autonomic nervous system didn’t allow it, probably ’cause it doesn’t want me to drown in my own spit as I sleep. Continue reading