When I got out of college and had my first awful job, I developed acid reflux induced by stress. It manifested, as these things do, as terrible midnight heartburn, followed by a low-grade, constant stomach ache.
My doctor handed me about two dozen little sample bottles of Nexium (his partner was nailing their pharma rep, and consequently had an overstocked closet.) and in a few weeks it was no longer a problem.
In my last year of NCEE, the same thing happened. Stress spike, awful heartburn, eventual tummy awfulness, doctor, drugs, relief, new job, asymptomatic.
While I’ve been having some stress-induced acid reflux of late, I am quite surprised to learn that one trip to Nashville’s Hattie B’s hot chicken has accelerated what was once a six-month cycle.
So, while the hot chicken has left my system, it did leave behind what I can only classify as a nuclear wasteland of frayed digestive nerves that may leave me horizontal and in the fetal position for the rest of the day.
On a side note, Hilton totally failed me on the antacid front. Their little pantry had only Tylenol, and the front desk guy was clueless about local amenities. I did find a CVS south of the hotel, and managed to squeak in ahead of their closure for some heavy duty antacid, but the damage is done here, people.
Worth it, probably, but ow.