Feel the Burn

It's official. Alberta is killing me. 37 years of wonderful good health marred only by infrequent and delightfully blurry bouts of rampant alcoholism, and Alberta takes that all away with four little letters that sound more like a wart than a stomach condition. After months of suffering through heartburn and lack of sleep and voluntarily giving up coffee, chocolate, sugar and beer and everything else that makes life worth living, I am being assessed for ... GERD. (That means heartburn from Hell, the acronym really doesn't make sense to me either.) 

Remember that time when you woke up from a good night's sleep after a night spent munching nachos and sipping beers with friends, did some yoga and then had a cuppa joe with your bacon and eggs? I hate you.

I am now that annoying person in restaurants who orders a salad, hold the dressing and everything else that essentially makes it salad and not just a plate of what amounts to very expensive grass. "I'll just have a bowl of leaves with a glass water, thanks." 

Giving up coffee in the mornings was the hardest. Giving up a beer on the weekends was also the hardest. Giving up everything that could possibly cause the slightest shift in my pH  also made it possible to sleep at night without wondering if I'm having a heart attack so I guess that's the silver lining. 

This actually looks soothing.

Thank heavens I don't have to give up sushi because, once again thanks to Alberta, I already have.