blue artichoke

The guest beds at Gentleman Caller's parents' house are some of the most comfortable beds I've ever slept in. Dangerously comfortable. I always take my own pillow if traveling by car, because I'm persnickety about the size, density and firmness of my pillows, and I usually sleep extraordinarily well there. Somehow, though, I managed to get a crick in my neck on this last visit that considerably limits my range of motion. I bought a tube of Icy Hot at a gas station on the drive back to MO, and have been using it recreationally ever since. I'm not really sure that it is helping the crick, but I like the way it feels and I don't mind smelling like an old person. For the past two nights, I've been sleeping with Ben-Gay patches on my neck and shoulder. I can't tell if these treatments are helping; I still have a sore neck, but get increasingly more mobility as the days pass. I'm tempted to try covering myself head-to-toe with patches and cream. Bliss?