Monday, 1 October 2012
Most of the time I don't think about my throat. It gets on with it's business with little or no concious interference from myself and I am happy with this arrangement.
However for the past two weeks I have had a chest infection that has giving me a hacking, booming cough that makes me sound like a Sea Lion barking for a bucket of fish. This has made my throat very sore.
Now instead of ignoring my throat I am thinking about it all the time. I never realised how often I swallow saliva but now I dread it, it seems to be every ten seconds I am swallowing the stuff. Why am I generating this much? It feels as though I am forcing a splintery wooden chair down my windpipe.
Being at work doesn't help as I am talking all the time while there, in between coughing my lungs inside out. I don't get ill often but when I do I turn into a quiet, shambling sorry-for-himself wreck who eats far too much comfort food thus adding worries about weight gain into the mix.
My body doesn't feel right and I yearn for the glorious, sun-filled days when I will feel normal again and can run around without wheezing and coughing until green phlegm detaches itself from my lungs and lands on my tongue like a nasty green oyster.
Yeah yeah, I know I am whining soft bastard and some of you reading this are facing truly frightening illness with a courage and fortitude that is admirable, while I have a minor infection that a course of antibiotics is already fixing.
Feel free to pour your scorn upon me, I can take it. Even though I'm poorly. Cough.