Day four and my head was still hurting. My wife suggested I go to the doctor, and much to her surprise, I agreed.
The doctor ran a battery of tests on me, checking my ears, eyes, throat, heart, blood pressure and even sent me for an MRI. After everything, nothing could be found that might be causing my headaches.
As we sat in the examination room, he asked, “So, do you drink coffee?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“How long you been drinking coffee?”
“Since I was nine or so.”
“How many cups a day?”
“Two to three.”
“How many have you had today?”
“Wait here. I have an idea. I’ll be right back.”
Less than two minutes later he entered the room and handed me a paper cup with hot coffee in it. I was certainly puzzled as most doctors warn folks my age to cut back and her he was giving me coffee in his office.
“Lean back and relax,” he said, “I’ll be back in half and hour or so.”
As he left he switched off the overhead lights. I sat there and sipped my coffee, enjoying the nature light coming from the window.
As promised, the doctor returned, “So how are you feeling.”
“Much better! My headache’s gone. What did you put in my coffee?”
“Nothing,” he responded, “I had a hunch after our conversation that you might be suffering from caffeine withdrawal. You should go home and double-check the coffee can – I’m betting its ‘decaffeinated.’
My wife was already gone to work as I pulled in the driveway. I hurried inside to the kitchen and pulled the can of coffee from the shelf and looked it over.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I mumbled as I saw the word in bright yellow lettering ‘decaffeinated.’