[T]he way he treats his body, you’d think he was renting. ~Robert Brault

Dear Body,

We've been together a long time, you and I. We've made it through childhood which is miracle enough. Climbing trees, having spears thrown at me by my brother, riding bikes without helmets on gravel roads, inexplicable "spells", eating things no person should ever eat...it's truly a miracle we survived. We even made it through adolescence when I abused you the most. But now we're in our mid-30's and I honestly hoped we'd be at a place of peace and comfort by now. Even with the bouts of stomach pain that caused you to say, "Ouch. I'm not doing this anymore and I'm shutting down" I still thought we'd made it through that and were done with it. I made the necessary changes that you asked for. I cut caffeine out of my diet for you. I started taking 3 vitamins a day. I started exercising more. I even ran for you.

So why do I feel like I've been hit in the gut by a Mack truck? What are you trying to tell me? Are you unhappy? Have I done something to upset you? Is this punishment for something I've done?

I know I don't feed you the most nutritious foods, even though I think pizza encomapsses all 5 major food groups (they might not be real vegetables, but they simulate the real thing). I know I smoke too much for you and our bones are brittle as a result, but I'm trying to fix that!

What more do you want? I would donate my uterus to a woman in need if I thought that would fix the problem. I would stop eating altogether if that would help. But please, oh please, don't ask me to stop smoking or drinking soda (even though it is caffeine-free). It's all I've got left!

Just please stop hurting us. I can't take another "spell" and the pain is really starting to interrupt my day. When you start sweating & shaking because the pain is so intense, it's time to shout "UNCLE!"