GERD, Anyone?

GERD is just indigestion, isn't it? Or maybe GERD is the same as agita. When I was a kid in the seventies and eighties, my grandfather would get indigestion from eating too many hotdogs, and my grandmother would get agita from my grandfather's indigestion. There was always plenty of Tums and Gas-X on hand. And Rolaids, which has such a cooler name than Tums. But then again, I thought Ford was a much cooler name than Carter, so what did I know? Maybe that's why five year olds aren't allowed to vote.

So what exactly is GERD? I'm closer to 40 than 30 now, old enough to experience these problems for myself, but I'm not sure how to kvetch correctly. Problems! Oy, my problems! I won't go into them now because I'm sure you've got enough problems of your own. Well, OK, maybe I will, but only a little. Should I just make a list? How about just this week? OK. If you insist. Altitude sickness, how's that? Or maybe it was just dehydration, but probably a combination of the two. Maybe food poisoning and lactose intolerance, too. Maybe all of the above! The symptoms? No, I don't think you want to hear them. There might be children listening.

I should get on the phone with my grandparents and interrogate them about their symptoms. The conversation will probably go something like this:

Me: Grandma, I want to talk about human digestion.

Grandma: Wait...let me put grandpa on the other line. Morty! Pick up the phone! It's Tony!

Grandpa: Tonymaboy! Where are you? Mongolia?

Me: Yes! I'm on a farm in the middle of Mongolia. It's very dirty here and full of flies. All I've eaten for days is dairy and mutton and goat. I have a headache and, I think, GERD.

Grandma: Oh, GERD! Mine has been acting up too lately, but I take those generic Pepcid you brought from China last time you were here. I still have at least 200 pills left.

Me: Oh, good. And I had altitude sickness. It was awful! I won't even tell you the details. But I want to ask you about heartburn and...

Grandpa: Mongolia! Do they have bagels and cream cheese there? Let's open up an Ess-A-Bagel in Mongolia - I bet we'll make a killing!

Me: Wait...I mean, what's the difference between GERD and indigestion? How about heartburn? What about agita?

Grandma: Oh, agita. Morty's mother used to get agita all the time. Remember, Morty?

Me: So only Jewish people can get agita??

Grandpa: How about knishes? I bet those Mongolians never had a decent knish in their life! A hotdog cart with knishes, that’s all we need to get started...

Grandma: Morty, what are you talking about with the restaurants again? We're not opening up any restaurants here or Mongolia or China or anywhere else!

My grandparents are very old now, but they've still got enough energy to get the gastric juices churning. Grandpa's skinnier, and dreams of hotdog emporiums in Beijing and knish shops in Ulaan Baator have replaced his late night binges. Only his physical appetite has diminished. And the endless discussions about food are still there, only altered slightly: Morty, just drink half a can of Ensure, what can it hurt?

At some point in the conversation, my phone would die or the signal would cut out and I'd be none the wiser. The acids from my stomach are still creeping up to the back of my throat where something, thank god, blocks them. It burns, and the red wine doesn't help, but a few more sips probably won't hurt. After all, I need something to complain about. Rolaids, anyone?