The other night I dreamt the house was on fire. I sat straight up in the bed and like a blind person groping for a fire extinguisher my hand fumbled about the bedside table knocking stuff over until…
Ahhh, I found it! Gaviscon.
One swig of the cool-minty-green liquid and the fire was out. At least for the moment.
If you haven’t already guessed, yeah I have that insidious, nasty acid reflux! The term even sounds caustic. Acid. Reeee-flux.
This condition has been a bug-a-boo for me on and off most of my adult life. It was for my dad too.
Thanks Dad! (God rest his beloved soul.)
Lately the fire in my esophagus has been of the three alarm variety.
Why am I telling you this?
If you think it’s because I’m over fifty and over-fifty people talk about their ailments all the time (even though we do), that is not the reason.
Here is the reason:
Won’t you join me over on Recharge Wednesday to hear the reason why…