I did not have a good night last night, waking up in the early hours coughing, unable to swallow, and I couldn’t get my breath.
Hubby always keeps a glass of water by his bedside, so after slapping me on the back a few times, we cleared whatever had lodged itself in my throat and I was able to drink.
Choking, or the sense of it, sends me into a panic as I choked on a fish bone as a young child and the frightening experience stayed with me for over 10 years. I wouldn’t eat fish at all, apart from fish cakes which are nearly all potato or perhaps a fish finger until my late teens, though these days I am content to buy fish and probe through the flesh making sure there are no bones present.
At grammar school, the bullies on the bus grabbed hold of each end of my scarf and pulled, cutting off my airway and sending me into a panic attack. It wasn’t until I almost passed out that my sister eventually stopped laughing with them and intervened.
As a result, I cannot bear anything tight around my neck, even a jumper has to have a cowl neckline, and if anyone puts their hands on my throat, I freeze.
However, there is another slap on the back for a completely different reason today:
The gates are almost finished!
We’ve had a few teething problems lining them up, but they have all been sorted out now and we are more or less ready to add the necessary furniture to finish the job.
Our drive is not straight, but then we already knew that, but we didn’t realise the extent of both the angle going away from the house and the downward gradient towards the road.
Hubby has done a smashing job, and after some extremely complimentary comments from our neighbours and other people in the road who have been watching our progress, he is adamant that he will not be making any for anybody else!