“You have to decrease your coffee consumption to two (2) cups a day”, said the cardiologist this morning. She obviously did not see the Starbuck’s Venti latte I finished in the lobby; or the free one waiting patiently for me on my Starbuck’s iPhone app. I thought I would use that one for the ride home.
“Define two cups”, I asked.
“Two eight ounce cups”, was the reply. Not good.
She told me I need to decrease my caffeine intake including tea, soda and chocolate. I told her she is basically removing from my diet any solid or liquid that is brown as well as my vices. And please do not suggest decaf or half-cafe coffee….it’s just brown water. I cannot even begin to wrap my mind around the chocolate piece of this puzzle. I confessed to having Mallo Cups in the freezer and my late night trips to the M&M jar. (I only eat the brown ones) She held her stance like Napoleon. (I like this woman).
So being the ever so pragmatic woman that I am, I decided on the drive home from the doctor that I should not begin this caffeine-less existence on a whim. I should plan it out; I should prepare; I should consume as much caffeine as humanly possible for the next two days and begin this life-altering change on Monday. Deal? Deal. Next.
Now at the same time she tells me I am dehydrated and that could be causing some of the issues I have been experiencing. Oh the joys of your 5th decade of life. “Drink” she tells me. “What?”, I ask, “more brown decaffeinated water and maybe throw in a seltzer.” Good grief.
This all started because I had shortness of breath when taking a Spin class. A Spin class with 12 and a 1/2 minute hill and the tension at about an 8+. Gee Whiz…wonder why my breathing was so labored? OK, and I did faint in from of Perreca’s that morning. I have changed inhalers twice, started and ended a steroid treatment and just intimidated the bejeezus out of the pulmonologist. Nice Italian guy, mother must have been a non-Italian. He caved too easy. I don’t do well with a doc like that. I need them to be strong and in control. This cardiologist has it even after I warned her she would not escape ‘the pen’ and this blog.
The stress test and echo-thing is scheduled. I have never understood the purpose behind these. Let’s take someone with a heart condition or breathing problem, push them to the brink and watch what happens. I can tell you what will happen, without MD after my name. That is probably why they do these in a hospital. I’ll be sure to get my hair done and my nails polished so when I drop dead there, I won’t look quite as bad.
My Italian “worry she-devil” is rearing her ugly head. That little mind bug has me needing open heart, or a transplant; quadruple by pass or a stint in a chamber or just plain flat out morto! She needs to find a new line of work.
Bright side: The Doc said nothing about Pinot Grigio or cheese and crackers so I am off to partake. Tomorrow morning I will brew that pot of heavenly coffee and put myself on a 2 day jag and caffeine buzz. You may find a kinder, gentler Karen on Monday or perhaps a suicide note, saying good bye to my family, friends, Dunkin Donuts and Juan Valdez the coffee guy.