The ghost of a tuna fish tried to kill me last night while I slept.
Most people think of acid reflux as a minor annoyance, and while you are awake, I would tend to agree. Having heartburn sucks, but at least you are awake, and aware of having it, and are most likely not lying down, and so you're slightly uncomfortable and can go take an acid reducer of some sort. But when you are asleep, acid reflux tries to murder the shit out of you.
Last night, I was happily dreaming about magical spit when all of a sudden, I was awake and terribly aware that I was dying. I sat straight up, flailing, as one will do when they are jolted awake by choking to death, and tried to breathe but my lungs just gave me a big "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUU" and would not inflate.
The following conversation was then had with my lungs:
Me: "Please, I need to breathe!!!"
My Lungs: "You should have thought about that before you filled us with stomach acid, you asshole!"
Me: "Yeah, I wasn't trying to. I'm not enjoying this any more than you are."
My Lungs: "Stop eating tuna fish for dinner."
Me: "Yeah, I'm right on top of that, Rose. In the mean time, could you let me get some fucking oxygen because I am dying here."
My Lungs: "Fine, if we must, but we're not kidding about the tuna."
And so, after probably only a few seconds that felt like way longer of desperately trying to breathe, my lungs began working again, and the ghost tuna was exorcised through a ritual of burping and puking that sounded like I had eaten a live velociraptor.
In case you are worried, I'm fine now, other than some slight lung-area pain and a major case of tuna-related PTSD.