No coffee?

by | Nov 16, 2012 | Being Me, Blog, Turning 50 | 0 comments

“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.

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About Me

KarenHello and welcome.
I am often asked, “What is Pasta on the Floor?”
Pasta on the Floor is different for everyone. It is a recipe that tells a story and inspires them to try something new. For others, stories of family, joy, loss, and hope engage with them. This brings me a great deal of happiness. I do not take myself too seriously, so be forewarned the subject matter is open and truthful. In many ways, Pasta is a tale of life, and I think you will find familiarity and commonality as you scroll through these pages.

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