Allergic to Coffee

I’ve worked in coffee shops and in several restaurants where everyone was enjoying a cup of Swiss Mountain blend, or Mocha Java, or any of the fifty million other named coffees. So, was it the inhalation for up to twelve hours a day for ten years the culprit, or was it just a fluke? I just know I’ve never liked the taste of black coffee and according to my father, a crazy landlord who didn’t use sugar for sweetness; but a cube of sharp cheddar, and the many coffee drinkers I know, you’re not a coffee lover until you can drink a cup with nothing added without cringing. I knew that I was not that girl, but I loved the aroma of certain brands hitting that sweet spot on my “Olfactory system.”

Prior to actually finding out I was allergic; I found out that coffee has the exact opposite effect on me as others drink it for.

Being stretched too thin; between three part-time jobs, two young boys in Albemarle County schools, an older son in Greensville County; and the biggest kid of them all, a sixty-three-year-old frail but determined to remain independent mother who keeps signing herself out of Nash General in North Carolina which is three hundred miles away.

This one Friday evening after working the night before; me and the two young ones attempted a three-day-weekend stay at grandmas. My youngest had asthma: we did a breathing treatment before the trip, and I should have turned around when he threw up all down his sweater but NO. We stopped in at my mother-in-law’s home for quick visit, something told me to ask her to watch the boys but I didn’t want to impose. After a conversation turned into a nap, I gathered the kid’s things and went to moms.

Hoping to get through the weekend with only one ER visit. We hadn’t been there but one hour before he was wheezing from Gray-ghost, my childhood pet, a cat. His inhaler wasn’t doing a thing for him so, back downtown to the ER for ex-rays and the medical grade treatment when we left the sun was rising. I called mom to see if she wanted breakfast from our favorite place and she said, “I’m cooking now, it’ll be ready by the time you all get back.” That was going to be a highlight for the boys all three eating at the table with grandma and me. After breakfast the boys played catch outside. Lunchtime was a challenge again, while they are I helped mom with as much cleaning and errands as possible on a Saturday, not knowing how long before the next ER trip was away. Buying as much time as I could by keeping them in the car and running the heat, I the next ER trip would be on the way back to Charlottesville. When we left GMH, it was 12:15, Sunday morning, a quick fill-up, snacks, and a cup of coffee from the Quick Pick before getting on I-95.

None of that regular coffee. I went for what I knew, Hazel Nut, eight ounces will do just fine, and added ice not to burn my mouth. We set on the bench had a hotdog each you know the three for 99 cents, the boys had a .25 cent bag of chip, and juice boxes; with the $5.79 of gasoline, my last $10 until payday was well spent.

I have done this drive a million times and nobody was on the road late night, so I didn’t have to worry about crazy tailgaters, or the zip in or the lane changers, that wants to be the first there passing everyone just to be at the next traffic light when I get there too. I remember saying something like this to keep myself awake. I part a crack in my window also but there is a stretch of road between the Louisa county line sign and where I ran off of the road before I woke back up. By the grace of God I didn’t hit anyone or flip the car with my children in it.

Have you ever heard something so crazy from the lips of another individual, ever? Here’s how it was discovered. One of the so very frequent hospitalizations for a urological issue, kidney stories, systematic bladder or UTI, one of those pesky sidelining misfits that bother me when things are going way to smoothly for the universe. When I am having to much fun living and loving life at that moment; my left side will begin to burn. I keep ready all of the life sustaining medication I need daily at arm’s reach of my bed, so someone can be directed to what I need quickly, since March 17, 1998; my medical team has taught me to be ready for anything and everything.

Coffee poisoning wasn’t on my radar, given the fact that I love the smell of it brewing but never liked the taste; maybe the instant kind in the red and white square cans, you know the General Mills International flavors, the stuff closest to hot chocolate. I never understood how people couldn’t function correctly without a cup of Joe to jumpstart their daily routine.

Wow, I have given you every thought about coffee I have ever had and still haven’t told you how I discovered my allergy to the universal pick me up for everyone else in the world. I was having one of those preordered hospital breakfasts that you expect to be what you requested, how stupid of the patient, right? Also, I talk way too much always. If I expect hot water for the tea bag on my tray and the smell of coffee doesn’t fill the air when the lid is removed, a reasonable person will proceed under the assumption that it is hot water, right? Well, neither of us realized the difference until I started having chest pain, my heart rate was through the roof, and I was two thumps away from the widow maker, I believed. My usually extremely low blood pressure was reading 175/89, it was pounding like a triple triton in my head and so loud I couldn’t hear what the doctor was saying they needed to do for or to me. It’s a good thing I didn’t because I passed out and when I woke up, I had been sedated and had a tube in my nose going to my lungs, on a ventilator, and my family asking what happened.

The doctor told my family that I had to be intubated because I wasn’t breathing well when they arrived in the room from an allergic reaction of some kind and that I will be monitored and moved to the MICU: Medical Intensive Care Unit; not that dietary almost killed me.

Basically, the already strong coffee plus a too long steeping tea bag created the perfect hotshot that would have taken me out had it happened somewhere else; not likely to happen ever again though. It made me realize that I can’t assume people will get my breakfast order right and I need to be aware of what I am consuming. From that day forward, I only order bottled water and drink mix packages from dietary.