I Quit
Or at least, I intend to quit. Drinking Coke, that is. Again.

I tried yesterday, but I forgot. I went to buy my sandwich for lunch, with strict instructions to myself beforehand to not buy a Coke with my sandwich. But after the lengthy thirty-two second journey to the sandwich shop, I forgot to not buy the Coke.

And since I bought it, of course I had to drink it.

Even though I thoroughly enjoy the tasty Coke-a-licious beverage and I am thoroughly convinced I cannot live without it, my funky stomach would prefer to do without the caffeine and carbonation. It's been speaking to me quite emphatically about this lately. I fear I must listen and heed its bidding.

Many years ago, a doctor told me I had some stomach issues. He gave me some medicine and handed me a sheet of paper detailing a strict diet that I was instructed to follow. I had to immediately cut out all caffeine, which was the major component of the diet, as well as a major thing for me to do without. I was a slave to coffee and Coke, and at the time thoroughly believed that water was not a valid beverage, as it had no taste or color.

Also on the paper was a list of foods I was no longer allowed to consume: anything greasy or fried, anything spicey, anything acidic, and basically all foods that I currently enjoyed. Being a pizza-loving, constant caffeine consuming, spicey food-eating Cajun, and already too thin as it was, I was really unsure of what food items were left in the world for me to eat. Up until that point in my young history, I was made entirely of fried cheesy stuff, and/or Coke, tea, and coffee.

I feared I would have to subsist on lettuce and water alone. I felt empty inside.

The mean doctor with the crazy diet restrictions assured me that this was a semi-serious situation, requiring an immediate and drastic change on my part. If I did not adhere to the diet and the drugs, my next visit to him would likely be followed by an invasive surgical procedure.

So, to avoid that, I haven't seen him since then.

I also decided I had no choice but to immediately embrace the diet. I began eating salads (minus the tomatoes) and chicken (grilled, not fried like mama used to make). I managed pasta without marinara sauce. And apple juice, as an alternative to water. I took the medicine given to me by my doctor. I was determined to go by all the rules, averting a health crisis.

I immediately noticed a difference in how I felt. The most noticeable difference being the enormous, brain-searing headache I had for three weeks, due to the absence of gallons of daily caffeine in my system. I quit Coke, caffeine, and tea- cold turkey. No adjustment period. It had to be done that way. I was crabby and on-edge for weeks, much like a smoker while quitting smoking. People steered clear of me. It was for the best.

But once the headache subsided, I noticed that my stomach seemed much less angry with me. Pleasant, almost. Sure, I was hungry all the time, and losing weight that I didn't need to lose. I missed food. But, the sharp ever-present ache in my tummy had substantially reduced in intensity. I no longer felt nauseous for most of the day. I could eat, and keep what I ate with me. I determined this was good.

Eventually I ran out of medicine, but fearing that returning to the doctor for any reason whatsoever would give him an excuse to operate on something pertaining to me, I forged ahead without additional drugs. I kept to the diet. And I found that I continued to feel good. I was cured.

The diet and I continued on for two years or so. It was at least two years without any sign of caffeine in me. I didn't need it anymore. I could stay awake without it. I could function without it. And truthfully, I felt better without it.

Soon, I began incorporating some of my most favorite foods of yore into my diet again. I figured my compliance with the strict food-free diet had repaired most of the stomach damage, and gently I began to test the waters of normal food again. Mostly for special occasions with family and friends, as they ate like normal people. I, too, wanted to eat like a normal person. In moderation.

I don't remember the day or time that I had my first sip of Coke after the caffeine drought, but I do remember that it was good. I decided to allow myself a Coke on occasion, but not as a regular part of my diet, and still no coffee. One Coke a day at the most. This worked well for awhile.

Then I spent more time with family, who are a large group of people that ingrained in me the former belief that water is not a beverage, due to the lack of taste and color. It's a caffeine-fest when they're around. So I slipped up a bit, having a bit more caffeine than I probably should, but only when on vacation and with family. Otherwise, the rule was no caffeine while in the city where I live. I stuck to it.

Then I trained for a 100-mile bike event, so I was back to a high-carb, no caffeine, no bad stuff diet. I felt great. I missed food, but the trade-off of how good I felt more than made up for it. My stomach had to be cured, at this point. I knew it. I didn't need a doctor to tell me. I felt more than confident that my self-diagnosis was good enough.

No more stomach worries. . . until recently. I've been careless lately with my diet restrictions, pretty much ignoring the 'restriction' part of the whole thing. Lately the things I've chosen to eat and drink have caused my stomach to once again voice a loud opinion of protest.

There is pain.

So, I decided to once again start eliminating things from my eating and drinking repertoire, one at a time this time. Until my tummy doth protest at a more endure-able level.

Today I have had lunch, but no Coke. I calculate my headache should start in about ten minutes. And I should be unable to stay awake about five minutes after that.

But, to combat the headache, and the sleepiness, I'm assuring myself that I'm not quitting for good again. I think I've put off cutting back on certain things because with that thought came the fear that it would have to be forever. Another drastic change that I just don't want to do again.

But this time, it's just until I feel better.

Or tomorrow.

C.T.