About a month and a half ago, I heard the phrase no coffee, soda or tea addict wants to hear… “You have to give up caffeine.” What blasphemy! The love of all things caffeine was probably running through my veins before I was born, since my dad can’t quite make it through the day without at least a mug or two of piping hot, Columbian roast.
My gateway liquid drug of choice was almost certainly Diet Dr. Pepper. My first job out of college was at a small newspaper, and I didn’t have anything close to the typical 8-5 work day. Monday through Thursday, plus Friday or Sunday, depending on our schedule, I woke at noon, got to work at 4 p.m., copy edited and page designed until 1 a.m. (or later…thanks to presidential elections and printing problems), then went home and watched whatever programs happened to be on the few channels I had. Then I crashed around the time most professionals are putting their heels on or straightening their ties, and whisking their kids off to school. My vampire-esque routine had my sleeping patterns feeling like they were on a runaway train, so Diet Dr. Pepper soon became a frequent mixture in my life. And by frequent, I mean a 20-ounce before I even got to my job, one when I sat down at my desk, another with dinner, another after dinner, and on and on until the boss gave us the go-ahead to travel home. I might as well have had an IV of the stuff injected in my throat, or a barrel by my desk with a sufficiently long straw. I eased off it a bit when I changed jobs, (or really, was forced to change jobs. Our little paper shut down, and our team had exactly one-day notice. Nice) but I still had to have at least two sodas a day, a hazelnut latte or something equivalent to give me that perk-me-up I had come to expect for years. And by this time, so many new, sinfully delicious drinks had come out on the market…Diet Coke with Splenda, cherry Coke Zero, vanilla-cherry Diet Dr. Pepper…an addict’s greatest dream and worst nightmare all in the same sip.
But, as the saying goes, every good thing must come to an end, and that day for me was July 6. I wasn’t feeling very well a few weeks prior, and I kept getting these weird flutters, and later, thuds in my chest. I went to my doctor, who listened to my heart, and trying to suppress her concern said, “Um, your heart is skipping beats.” With that simple statement came weeks of X-rays, EKGs, having to wear a heart monitor, waiting for results, ultrasounds, more waiting for results, misdiagnosis, lack of sleep (I was terrified my heart would stop beating as soon as I shut my eyes), medication, and finally, a visit with a specialist that after the whole ordeal, basically told me I was going to be fine. I was having heavy heart palpitations, which she said could be a combination of factors, including my beloved boyfriend, caffeine. So, sadly, I had to break up with him.
It has been almost a month since our separation, and I’m actually feeling a lot better. My chest doesn’t feel like it has six boxes of Pop Rocks in it, and I’ve found a few alternatives when water just doesn’t cut it. Giving up soda all together will be my next big feat, as I’ve read that even diet drinks can cause weight gain. But alas, I think I’m getting a serious crush on Diet Sierra Mist with Ruby Splash. (Wink) At least it’s decaf!
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