You can break with habits, so instead of ordering the pasta or the fish of the day at my favorite Italian restaurant I ordered ossobuco with risotto tonight. Halfway the ossobuco I got the hiccups.
In my case, this is not your average hiccups, it's more like an allergic reaction, it starts with the hiccups and it ends with coughing up slime or at least slimy substances. In the late spring of 2019 I thought I was dying of the hiccups.
But now I felt more ashamed. While I had locked myself up in the bathroom the nice maître d' knocked on the door and shouted: "Mr. Grunberg, can we do something for you? Do you need a glass of water?"
I was dying, water wouldn't postpone death. But after twenty minutes or so I felt ready for some fruit salad.
It wasn't my time yet, I had a few more things to do.