When Jill and I collided, we were already avid coffee drinkers. W/in this delightfully caffeinated category, Jill leaned more toward the light, flavored blends. I favored the darker, single origins. Jill picked up Southern Pecan, while I sipped the smooth Guatemalan roast.
As both Jill and I have noted in previous posts (and conversations), when diagnosis struck, I landed on exercise and nutrition as the two main areas I intended to optimize to help defeat this disease. No fucking way was I going to sit on my hands and just let advanced medicine run its course. (B/c while medicine is (arguably) advanced, it ain't advanced to the appropriate levels.)
So, what we ingested as a family became a paramount concern of mine.
And while going vegan tended to grab the household headline, much of what we consumed was in effort to minimize the acidity inside our bodies. B/c where acid lives, so to can disease. Eradicate the acid; manage the disease.
Coffee is acidic.
So I cut out coffee and glommed onto green tea, verbally praising it's naturally nutritious and alkalizing qualities, hoping my girls would jump on the tea train.
Early on, Jill would raise her cup of coffee in my direction, supporting the decision I'd made for myself...just not willing to take the plunge herself.
But, after my
Holy shit did we go thru multiple teas for Jilly.
We explored innumerable flavored teas from Teavana, the Mighty Leaf, Bombay, freaking Celestial Seasoning. It was often one cup and done for Jilly.
"Ew, this tastes bitter," she'd squeeze out of her contorted face as if she were a three year old that just licked a lemon.
"Just drink it. It's good for you. It helps neutralize your body," I'd huff back at her.
"Fine. But just this one cup," she'd concede.
Miraculously Jill found a tea that she liked. But then she'd brew it, pour it, and proceed to leave that full tea mug somewhere in the house...untouched.
It's like she was fucking w/ me.
"Are you just messing w/ me w/ this?" I'd say to her, pointing accusingly at the mug.
"No. Why?" Jill'd respond flatly.
"B/c it's like you're toying w/ me. 'I'll buy the tea, brew the tea, and maybe put it up to my lips. But, I won't drink the tea. That'll show him.'" (Yeah, I know. I'm a lunatic.)
"Yes, Jason, that's what I'm doing," she'd calmly, but sarcastically throw back at me.
(Silver lining alert: Meanwhile, Ro picked up the tea drinking habit. To this day, I often wake to her having already brewed a pot of green tea, sipping from a mug, and burning thru her book of choice. It's as if she's practicing for old lady'hood. It's the best.)
The bottom line is that Jill made the effort to the right thing. Always.
Jill did the best she could. In every situation.
And so I find it ironic that I've (very hesitantly) picked up coffee again in recent weeks.
Not unlike Jilly's argument back to me, I find I'm drinking it out of necessity.
The reality is that my energy is shot. Ever since November 12, 2014, it's as if my body is trying to move thru water, but on land. It all requires extra effort. All of it. All the time.
If I don't ingest some liquid fuel, I'm dragging (at best) thru the day. And I cannot afford to drag. I don't get to drag. No drag.
So, w/ some reluctance and immense guilt, I find myself back on the coffee carousel.
I only hope Jill understands. I'm also doing the best I can.
J, J, & r