My Best Friend, Gaviscon

You know the acid reflux is bad when you all you have to holler is, "Gavi" and your husband goes galloping for the nearest bottle of antacid, strategically placed every 7 feet through out the house. Another indicator is when you ponder why they don't sell it in handy 2 litre versions. If my kid comes out with a suspicious minty smell and an aversion to chalk, I might feel a bit guilty.

One of my favourite things about the burning, biley burps are their propensity to happen mostly in the middle of the night. I don't think this is fair. I have finally fallen asleep, I am in between my every 45 minute pees and my hips haven't started to ache yet, when I am jolted awake by bile defying the laws of gravity by flowing up and out of my nose. The only slightly funny thing is that it is reminiscent of the time in grade 12 when I was throwing up Rockaberry Cooler and someone made me laugh and it came out of my nose. Side note-we were discussing this the other day at work- anyone else find it slightly weird that coolers were sold in 2L plastic pop bottles? Does anyone else beside high school kids purchase coolers in that quantity? Hmmm...I wonder who their target market was?

Anyway, along with the feeling of burning stomach acid in your sensitive nose tissues, it often tries to find it's way into your lungs leaving you choking mid-sleep, which is always a joy. Your immediate reaction is of course to sit up, but in the last week or so, I have found popping quickly into the sitting position is taking a bit longer than usual. So while I am frantically pushing myself up, hoping in vain that a stray abdominal muscle or two will help heave my monstrous gut into a vertical position, I am trying not to perch too precariously near the edge of the bed because if I tilt too far to the side, I am going over. Iain's hand automatically rises to pat my back (he can do this without even waking up) and after a good cough, a couple of wheezes, a glug of Gaviscon and sometimes a brushing of the teeth if it was an especially good mouthful, it is time to try sleeping again. I usually perform this act for the amusement of the cats three times a night.

All is not bad with the acid reflux. It also "prevents" me from doing some of my favourite tasks, such as sweeping the dirt into the dustpan, scrubbing the tub, picking up dirty clothes or cleaning up cat puke. Iain especially enjoys putting my socks on for me after a good meal - at least I have been able to clip my own toenails. I have been wondering if I can get my hands on one of those claw-like things city workers use to pick up garbage to assist me.

Acid reflux, yet another trial in the quest for motherhood (and apparently the real fun has yet to come).