I Detest the Stench of Coffee

I’ve worn a sweater, jacket, and light scarf over the past few days. Welcome to June. Last night, as I clutched my jacket closer to my body, I wondered if I should have worn something else, something thicker. I wonder if this is a manifestation of global warming.

Today is more of the same. It’s gray, cold though not miserably so I admit, and drizzling rain. Yay, hmmm, that didn’t work to lift my spirits. I dragged myself out of bed. On a day like this, I can’t help but wear black. I dragged myself to work.

On the way down to the parking garage, the elevator stopped on the floor below to let in a few people. Suddenly, I felt nauseous. The woman who decided to occupy the space next to me was holding a cup of steaming hot coffee. Nauseating coffee. Unbelievably nauseating coffee. As I wondered how much of the stench I could take before I spewed vomitus all over her white jacket and lime-green bag, another woman in the elevator pointed to the cup and stated “That’s what I need right now!” The woman “lucky” enough to have made her coffee rounds prior to work smiled and stated “Yeah, it’s French Vanilla” thereby beginning a conversation about french vanilla, hazelnut, Dunkin Donuts, and other coffee language among the occupants in the elevator.

Ugh! What is it with people and coffee?

I’m not a coffee drinker. I learnt very early as a child in Germany that coffee bonbons were not for me. Rarely, do I find the smell of coffee pleasing. There is nothing worse than waking up in the morning to the stench of coffee. There I said it. I’m the person who cannot eat the first few hours after waking up. So imagine how wonderful rounds are at work. Every doctor walks into rounds with a cup of steaming hot coffee! And I’m supposed to grin and bear it while inside my stomach is churning. As a medical student, when someone offered to make coffee rounds or looked to me to suggest I would offer myself up for the duty I would announce that I didn’t drink coffee. The response would be a round of  laughs. I had no idea I was a comedian. Invariably people would say, “well you just wait until internship/residency”. Well you know what? Internship, residency, and soon fellowship, are behind me and I did not morph into a coffee-dependent zombie. In fact, I didn’t even morph into a caffeine addict. Somehow I survived on shear will… and okay fine, if you insist, maybe some sugar.

Luckily for me, the elevator ride in the garage was a short minute or so. Once the doors opened, I made sure to make a dash out into the fresh cold breeze and took a welcoming deep breath of cold air!