I Love Coffee!
Perhaps a bit too much.
I love coffee.
I’ve been drinking it nearly every day for over 40 years so I consider myself to be something of an expert. But, only about black coffee. I do not know anything about coffee drinks or what passes for coffee but is really sugar on steroids.
My doctor recently passed me a mandate: decrease the coffee intake or you will continue to have health problems you don’t like.
A cruel blow considering she had already limited my sugar, carb, and alcohol intakes. I know: I should find a new doctor and not tell them the truth.
Anyway, I have begun to question myself about what I love about coffee and if those same things can be found in decaf or even, perish the thought, in another beverage — non-alcoholic, unfortunately.
If I had my way, I would start the day with a couple of pots of coffee, followed by a period of abstinence for several hours, and then have a pot in the afternoon with a cup in the evening. I figure I need to slow down toward bedtime just out of principle.
Due to Atrial Fibrillation (AFib), I’m now facing a one-cup-of-caffeinated-per-day limit. Is it worth it to drink decaf or not?
A Different Perspective
I decided to try to think about this logically and make a rational decision instead of crying endlessly over no coffee. I’ve been crying for three weeks now because that’s how long I’ve been following the mandate after receiving it nearly three months ago. My doctor said something about bad behavior when I complained about an AFib episode.
I love the heat of the coffee, that warmth that infuses me each morning as I get a fresh cup. I feel a familiarity when I take the first sip, sort of like turning in the driveway at home — unless home is not a good place for you. Then, maybe it’s like leaving home each day.
This can be replaced by decaf since that, too, is hot. I have to give Decaf all the credit I can. Is warmth overrated?
I love the kick in energy I get from it. Yes, even after all these years, I still get a lift from the caffeine. Perhaps the time length of drinking it (and the amount) is why it takes me a couple of pots to get an energy boost.
Decaf does not supply this. I know they say decaf has some caffeine, but my body is not fooled by the minuscule amount. This is a feature I miss of “real” coffee. I time my one cup per day for when I need the most lift in the day.
Even the Bitterness
I love the bitterness of coffee. Weird, right? I’m also a dark chocolate fan — well, I would be if I were allowed to be — so for some reason I like the bitterness of flavor. It gives a fullness to the taste buds that other tastes do not provide. It’s a shock to the mouth, providing depth of character and development that something like a soda does not give.
Decaf can give bitterness all right: with a twinge of a mechanical taste if you choose to invest in the merest of commercially produced decafs. In other words, you have to buy decaf from a roaster to come close to the same quality of taste, not from your typical grocery store.
I love the tradition of preparing the coffee. There is something about setting up the coffee pot — getting the water, measuring out the coffee, starting the brewing — that lends itself to comfort. It’s a feeling of familiarity, of constancy which might be lacking in the rest of my world.
Decaf can provide this since I go through the same motions although with a different bag. I have to admit, there’s a feeling of disappointment which goes along with the change in bag. It’s a psychological thing, I’m sure. I probably need grief therapy.
I love sharing coffee. All four of my children drink coffee in one form or another. I’m very proud of their life choices. I enjoy when they come to visit, and inevitably, one of us will say, “I’m going to make coffee.” It’s a bonding experience.
No one really wants to share my decaf.
Reality Brewed
So, it looks like, logically, caffeinated coffee tops decaf quite handily. I like having a heart that beats in rhythm, though. Something about the fatigue and weakness puts a damper on my day.
We’ve had a good run, caffeinated coffee and me. Not everyone can boast of a forty-year union. I’m not completely divorcing from it now. Just slowing down the ardor a bit.
I’m going to look up the number for that grief counselor now.
C.J. Clinton is a psychotherapist who loves to share a cuppa. She lives with her husband and pets in Texas.
