Why I Will Never Drink Red Wine AgainPosted: February 2, 2014
Last winter, my husband and I took a mini-vacation at a B&B. This was an exciting get away for us because it was the first trip since our honeymoon that only involved the two of us.
Our B&B was a renovated Victorian house in a small tourist town. Breakfast would be delivered to our door every morning and we would spend the rest of the day exploring the downtown area. Plus, part of our room package came with a bottle of red wine. Now, I don’t like the taste of any kind of alcohol unless it is cut by serious amounts of sugar. Consequently, I almost never drink any sort of alcoholic beverage. Why spend $10 on a milkshake with liquor when I can spend $4 on a plain milkshake? However, I was determined to make our vacation a classy experience. That meant I had to have a glass of wine.
My first sip immediately proved immediately that I found the wine disgusting. But since I was going to have a classy vacation, I kept sipping the wine. My husband finally noticed after half a glass that I was making weird faces and commented on it.
I finally finished my classy glass of wine and went to bed.
About an hour later, I suddenly woke up because my esophagus felt like it was on fire. I took a drink of my water hoping that I was simply thirsty. It didn’t help. After a few minutes, I realized that the burning in my esophagus was actually heartburn (I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had heartburn–that’s why it took me so long to figure it out). I poked my husband awake and asked if he had any antacids. Unfortunately, he had forgotten to pack them.
I tried to ease the heartburn by sipping some milk. It didn’t help. In fact, the burning increased and I started gagging over the toilet. So not classy.
I finally stopped gagging but the heartburn continued. Exhausted and in pain, I started crying. My husband finally asked:
So that’s why my husband wound up going to a gas station at 11:30 at night. So not classy. It’s also how I learned that you can get heartburn bad enough to make it difficult to swallow the next several days.
Finally, it’s why I promised myself to never, ever drink red wine again, no matter how classy I want to feel.