special needs parenting · Uncategorized

A Tale Of Crappy Coffee (and other gross injustices)

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I am a coffee snob.  Not a latte or some kind of adulterated coffee, just a really good, smooth, rich cup of regular coffee, and it has to be fresh and hot.  My keurig is probably my favorite earthly possession (although it’s in fierce competition with my bed). I use the refillable pod, because landfills are gross, and my two cups a day are a treat of unquantifiable value.  From the second I sip my last drop I eagerly anticipate the next morning’s brew (of course after indulging in sleep in my luxurious bed).

So here I am, stuck in the hospital with my kid.  It’s not exactly a vacation here, the bed is torture, the shower is mediocre, and the cafeteria charged me $10 for soup and a salad (is this not the most outrageous thing ever?  I’m stuck here with my kid and a simple, healthy meal is exhorbidant).  But all of that I can abide.  At least my soup and salad were of good quality and nourishing, it’s the coffee that stirs my ire.

I’m sure that not everyone loves their coffee so much that they quote “Song of Solomon” to it in the morning, but I do.  I sometimes prepare the pod in the evening so that I can enjoy the aroma in anticipation of our morning love affair, a little java foreplay, if you will. But I’m not about to just drink it for my addiction, oh no.  I plan ahead, waiting for the optimal moment in which to sit down with my coffee and enjoy the intimacy of a girl and her brew.

So I’m away from home, from my luxiurious mattress, my husband, children and dog.  I’m sleeping on a medieval rack, paying out the nose for a light lunch, and cleaning up ungodly volumes of vomit.  I can live with all that, but I can’t live without decent coffee.

I don’t know who it is who decides how to vend coffee in children’s hospital, but sir or madam, if you happen upon this, please, consider the injustice of that Folger’s abomination in light of my plight.  I long to give good care to my sick child, with only one caveat; my coffee.

So now to decide how to launch my crusade.  Go Fund Me to fund ethically traded, real coffee in every children’s hospital in the U.S., or a Move On petition to mandate that hosptials provide it for us, or possibly just opening a kiosk on each floor here asking only good will offerings.

I am not yet sure how I will proceed, so stay tuned, this woman is on a mission.

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3 thoughts on “A Tale Of Crappy Coffee (and other gross injustices)

  1. I recently found your blog and have enjoyed your writing. I’m also a mom, a runner, have a son with a chronic illness, have 2 german shorthaired pointers and a longtime love affair with coffee. I also go to bed thinking about how good the coffee will taste in the morning. At our children’s hospital, the coffee on the floor is awful, but there are two Starbuck’s just an elevator ride away. I’m always so thankful my son is old enough that I can slip away long enough to get a cup.

    Liked by 1 person

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