When I started drinking this bottle on Sunday, I noticed a slight sore throat. Nothing to worry about, and certainly nothing to interfere with the lamb (actually, mutton) teginne and sour-dough pitta-bread meal that Claire had been intermittently preparing all weekend. As I had earlier bottled the Spiced Beetroot wine, leaving a generous helping for us, we did not finish the bottle and left it as a tasty snifter for the coming days. That night, though, I woke with the feeling someone was sawing into my larynx. And then the shivering began.
So, the week before Christmas has been mostly alcohol-free. Claire had one of the two remaining glasses on Tuesday whilst I was feeling sorry for myself in bed. I finished the bottle on Wednesday, again whilst feeling sorry for myself in bed. Though it helped me sleep between 7-10 p.m., I then lay awake most the night.
Being ill sucks.