wayfaringwordhack: (hellville)
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Night before last, I started to suffocate in my sleep. My dream changed radically to one where my throat was swelling closed and me thinking I had perhaps taken a pill that I was allergic to. I jolted awake, wheezing and barely able to breathe. Heart racing, shaking in fright, I was finally able to suck in enough air and cough away whatever was obstructing my throat.

Last night, I woke up at 1:30, seized by the urge to vomit. I made it to the bathroom in time and spent the next half hour heaving up my guts. In my usual melodramatic way, I thought I was going to die and prayed that it would not be so. I don't much like the thought of being found dead in front of a puked-in toilet.

Needless to say, I'm still alive, but I'm more ready than I can convey to get just one decent night's sleep. I think that won't happen until Wednesday night when I'm back in Aussillon, France, tucked into Julien's old bed at his mom's place. This is not how I wanted to leave Mayotte, but...

Vive mercredi!
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