Yet another tale of woe

Yesterday morning I had a doctor’s appointment because I’ve had a sore throat on and off for about the last month. It’s the only real symptom I’ve had, but if you google “chronic sore throat” enough times it’s easy to become convinced that death is imminent and now would be a good time to stop doing the 30-Day Shred because what’s the point? Everyone knows there will be no swimsuits in heaven.

It didn’t help matters that I’m in the throes of a particularly foul case of PMS which has a tendency to heighten my already heightened sense of paranoia.

The ENT looked, appropriately enough, at my ears, nose and throat and declared that I have acid reflux. This is particularly disturbing because P has been telling me for years that I have acid reflux and I’ve repeatedly told him that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. It’s totally normal to cough for thirty minutes when I lay down to go to sleep at night, I’ve been doing it for years.

It just dawned on me that I’ve written about skin cancer, multiple doctor visits, and acid reflux all in one week. When did this turn into a letter from your Ma-Maw? Next thing you know I’ll be giving reports on how bad the food was at the last funeral I attended.

On a positive note, my rheumatism has hardly bothered me at all and my dentures finally quit rubbing the inside of my gums.

Anyway, I happened to sell medication for acid reflux back in my drug rep days so I knew exactly what he was about to tell me. Avoid spicy foods, red wine, tomato sauces, and coffee. Also, chocolate.

Sure, that’s going to happen.

When I’m dead.

And then just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, he asked, “Do you drink a lot of Diet Coke?”

“Well, usually just one a day.”

(That sometimes turns into two or six depending on the proximity of a Sonic)

“You should definitely cut that out. It’s about the worst thing for you.”

“Okay, I guess so.”

But what I wanted to say was “Why don’t you just cut off my arm instead? It would be less painful.”

How am I supposed to quit you, Diet Coke?

More importantly, how am I going to survive the summer without you?