I talk about wee

I note I didn’t even bother with a title for my last post, which just goes to show what headfuckery giving up caffeine does for you.

Chaps, chaps, chaps. It was only for four days. Yet it felt like about seven lifetimes. Seriously, I think I’d rather have another hysterectomy. It was hella horrible. The main reason it was grim was that I had a migraine. A migraine that went on for about twenty years. There was vomit, and shaking, and splitting, splitting pain. As I haven’t had a migraine since the summer when my evil hormones were stopped at the point of entry, this was a shock to my system to say the least.

The good thing was that it made me grateful for the fact that now I only sweat and cry a lot, whereas before I would go blind, have splitting head pain and vomit a lot, plus sweating and crying. So all in all, hysterectomy for the win.

Some people, it appears, sail through caffeine withdrawal. When I spoke about it before I had to give it up, I had an even split of ‘ah, you’ll be fine if you just have decaf, it will fool your system.’ and ‘farkinell, have Jason and the kids got a safe space to hide in?’ It transpires that my body is not fooled by decaf, and took it upon itself to re-enact Renton’s come down from heroin in Trainspotting. So that was nice.

I’d be a shoe in for the part, if they ever decided to do an all female version.

Anyway. I had to give it up for three days prior to a twenty four hour urine test, and for the duration of the test. I also had to give up paracetamol and alcohol, which was not even funny. I also had to give up pineapple, aubergine, walnuts, peppers and tomatoes, but frankly, once you’ve given up drugs, drink and coffee, you might as well be dead, and throwing a no pineapple clause into things is neither here nor there.

Then there was the piddling into receptacles. I drink a lot of water. If there’s one sop to health I do try to adhere to, it’s keeping vaguely hydrated. I have a strange fear of becoming a husk. It might happen. So I am vigilant, vigilant about the water. They gave me a jerry can to pee into, and I could sense it probably wasn’t going to hold 24 hours worth of my wee, but you know, I nodded and smiled, and bought a plastic measuring jug from Wilkos with which to decant the widdle, because peeing into the neck of a jerry can is no fun, especially when you’re a swivel eyed, lunatic because of all the things you haven’t been allowed to have.

So I weed for all I was worth, and decanted, and weed and decanted and it was very boring and I was still feeling like shit, so I stayed at home, which was much less taxing than carrying around a giant jerry can swilling with pee that smelled like a field of rotting cabbage (ewwww) and your own personal measuring jug, so small mercies and all that. And lo and behold, by half eleven at night I had filled my can to the brim with life enhancing piss, and was clearly going to wee more. I thought about whether I needed to get an even distribution of wee, and whether it would be worth tipping some of the earlier wee out and giving a middle of the night, early morning wee a chance to be full of, or lacking in whatever the hell it is they’re testing for. Then I thought I’d probably end up pouring wee down my sleeve because I was tired and emotional and am always clumsy and really I just put the lid on and chucked the jug away and hoped for the best.

In the midst of all the Heart of Coffeeless horror I did think that as I’d got this far with it, I might give caffeine up for good, and power through and become a paragon of health. I thought it might help my blood pressure. One website I Googled on the second day of withdrawal, just in case I was actually having some kind of hideous seizure and mixing it up with caffeine withdrawal (I wasn’t) said quitting could bring blood pressure down. As we know, my blood pressure may rise up in the night and strangle me at any time, so I thought it could be good and healthful and new year’s marvellous to just keep on trucking with the no caffeine thing.

On Friday morning when I woke to the realisation that my jerry can was overflowing, my heart too, overflowed from the bed, took me downstairs and made me a cup of fully caffeinated coffee. I drank half of it, and frankly people, it was miraculous.

It was a bit like that bit in the opticians where you’re squinting into his weird goggle things, and he’s sliding lenses in and out of the frames and it’s all blurry, blurry, blurry and then suddenly everything is in crystal sharp focus and you feel amazed and euphoric because you can see, and it’s all very crisp. That. That is exactly what even half a cup of decent coffee does for me. I was all sharp and crisp and focused and I felt bonkers, but good bonkers, and like I didn’t want to kill myself/sleep for the rest of my life. So I’m back on it, and no more widdling into household receptacles for me, thanks.


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