As I sit at my kitchen table with my steaming cup of substitute, let me say that I have had only one cup of coffee in fourteen days. No caffeine in thirteen of fourteen days. I miss it. I love coffee (not enough to marry it, mind you, our relationship knew no bounds). I had a map in my head of where every Starbucks was between Sacramento and Portland.
Pero, Roma, Rooibos, Postum (screw you Mr. Coffee Nerves), none of them are substitutes for coffee: Joe, Java, Arabica, French Roasted nirvana. I’m jonesing for Coffee; you know what I’m saying?
Also on the dietary no-no list are fatty foods like potato chips and French fries. In fact, to know what I can and can’t have, make a list of all the foods you love—chocolate, coffee, rich desserts—and cross all of them off your list.
Oh, and one more, to make matters even more dismal, I’m not allowed beer (no alcohol) either.
I hope my stomach appreciates the sacrifice that I’m making for it.
Skål.
Nullius in Verba 
NOT ALLOWED BEER? WHO IS THIS QUACK?
I’VE NEVER HEARD OF SUCH A THING.
IT’S AN ABOMINATION AGAINST NATURE, THAT’S WHAT IT IS.
NO BEER?
I’M SHAKING. CAN YOU SEE IT? SHAKING, I’M TELLING YOU.
GOD BLESS YOU, MY SON. YOU ARE A STRONG SOLDIER.
find another doctor, that’s what I say.
I know. I know.
What does he expect me to help slake my thirst at dinner?
Hmmmm?