His throat was filled with something viscous, gelatinous ... it was blocking the airways of a throat already swollen virtually shut. He coughed and slapped the back of his neck, but the restriction wouldn't budge. He wondered in panic what would happen to all his love, all his dreams, if he fell down and died here? He didn't want to lose any of them ... but he couldn't breathe, couldn't get enough air through to his damaged lungs. His throat hurt so much, like he'd received a lancing blow to the trachea.