In most things I'm easy to please. I don't send food back in a restaurant. I prefer coffee with cream but can drink it black. I can listen to all kinds of music, I like watching all kinds of sports, and just about any wine is fine with me.
But when it comes to my pillow, I'm ridiculously particular. It's got to be fairly flat and fluff-able. Foam is a no-no. Firm pillows or pillows with too much stuffing give me a headache. I have been known to put a pillowcase on a hotel bath towel rather than use the fat pillows on the bed.
And I have no warm feelings for a pillow that has absorbed too much body heat. I am constantly flipping my pillow over in search of its cool side.
For my recent hospital stay, I was thrilled when the nurses told me it was OK to ask my husband to bring my pillow from home. The pain medicine helped me sleep that first night, but for the rest of my hospital stay, having my own pillow was a bigger comfort.
I was starting to think maybe it's time for me to grow up and improve my pillow tolerance, but then my older sister came to visit for a few days. I couldn't help but smile when she carried in her pillow from home along with her suitcase. Some comfort items are just worth hanging onto.
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