I’ve never been afraid of sleep. It was always a welcome relief to be able to slip into oblivion every night.

But now I’m scared of sleeping. Last night I was up until almost 4am because I knew what would come when I tried to sleep.

The coughs are worse at night, when I’m reclining or in bed. And even though I’ve got antibiotics that have helped ease the coughing, each cough is now like a mini wrestling match between me and asphyxiation. Every time leaves me gasping for breath as if I’m breathing through Jell-O, or not even breathing at all.

The ironic thing is that I’m writing a story about a character who is afraid of sleeping. And now I understand him more than I ever wanted to.