Preparation for the surgery
It all started before the surgery. When my surgeon told me I would have to give up coffee a few weeks before, I somehow accepted that. Coffee consumption was off-limits. I got it, the caffeine can hinder healing, so it would be very advisable to do that. Well, easier said than done.
When I started the pre-op diet, I had to start the caffeine detox. Ok, let’s do it. Holly Molly! I was taking two cups a day for a very long time. As long as I can remember. It seemed like not so much. But I can tell you the physical dependence is genuine.
The first week
First of all, the morning without the coffee smelling nicely seemed weird. But well, what could I do? Second, I never thought that I was so hooked on caffeine. It was the first day at 9 am and I was half asleep, tired as hell, my head was starting to hurt for some reason. This was not good. And during the day it got pretty nasty.
At the end of day one I had to take a pill. My head was occupied by millions of gnomes trying to dig out my brain out of there. And I was so tired that after “lunch” I was about to fall on the writing desk and fall asleep. It was crazy.
Days two and three were the same. Extreme headache, I was hoping to die before lunch and I was barely functioning during the afternoon. I remember people talking to me, me watching them and the words were coming some time later. It was hard to process them. I was glad it was Friday and I could switch off my laptop.
Things got better maybe day five. Well, perhaps because I was hating protein shakes and veggies, my attention was focused elsewhere. At least the caffeine withdrawal was over. I was still missing my coffee, but at least the physical response was gone.
After the surgery
I was told no coffee for three months. Well, it was not the best, but again, I had different problems, so I didn’t mind too much. Still, it was quite long.
Then my nutritionist cleared me to have one cup a day. I remember that day. Oh my god, it was like a festive day. I took out my special cup, prepared my coffee as usual, well, a little weaker, just in case, and put it in front of me. It smelled heavenly. The color! It was perfect. I took a sip… and it was clear to me all of a sudden that it was a very direct NO!!! from Mr. Stomach. He had another plan. I ended up spitting it out before puking it.
And then I tried every single month till month 10. Yes, you hear it right. My stomach, the boss, was strictly against digesting coffee. He didn’t want it no matter how much I tried. It was such a strong reaction every time that only sipping it and having it in my mouth, my stomach was revolving, growling, and telling me directly: if you swallow it, you will see it again right away. Don’t you dare!
It got better finally
I have to admit I became somewhat scared of coffee. I had trouble eating as well, so I was focusing elsewhere, but still, my desire to have a coffee to calm myself down was very strong. I wanted it but my stomach didn’t. It was a love-hate relationship. And Mr. Stomach was winning.
The day I was able to stomach down the first cup, I didn’t feel the joy anymore. I was half scared, half anxious. But it went down reasonably well and I didn’t have any excess acidity after, so it was ok. Still, it felt kinda weird.
Help! I am hooked again!
What happened next is history. Coffee slowly came back into my life and I was going back to a cup a day at first, then I added the second one after lunch, and before I knew it I was taking some five coffees a day. I was tired, I couldn’t eat much, I had food intolerances, so I substituted everything with coffee.
Yes, I am admitting freely my addiction transfer happened here. Coffee took over my life. At least I was able to function. It was hard, but I was trying even harder. Obviously, things couldn’t go on like this for long. I realized pretty soon what was going on. And I did my very best to cut down a little.
I got better
Still, now I have my three coffees a day and I am not going down anywhere soon. It is what it is. It might be a good idea to cut it a little more down, I know it. But as it is not causing me any problems, I don’t have reflux because of it, I keep doing that. Yes, I make sure I am drinking enough fluids. Coffee dehydrates. This is crystal clear to me.
I have to admit that the caffeine withdrawal was something I was not prepared for. It was harder than I thought and it was a real blow. Well, at least I know.
I didn’t sign up for this
But the time I had to wait to get back to my beloved coffee, was something I seriously didn’t sign up for. It was frustrating, it was making me angry and desperate. I was tired, I was craving and I couldn’t. At some point, I simply gave up.
I know that some programs allow coffee all the time (lucky patients). Well, I just had to listen to my stomach, the boss. I had no control over when I was able to drink some coffee. My stomach didn’t want it, I had to obey. Technically I could, practically it was a whole different story.
What was your story about coffee? Could you drink it all the time = were you the lucky ones?
