An Open Letter to My Stomach

Dear Stomach,
We’ve been together since that crazy day in the 4th week of conception. You were developing inside of me probably before mom even knew she was pregnant! Those were some crazy times I tell you.  It’s almost as if we were meant to be together from the beginning. In fact, I actually believe God created you unique to me and with a specific purpose, mostly for digestion and absorbing things like b12, and for all that, I am grateful. We’ve been through a lot together, had lots of “firsts”, and we’ve traveled all over the world … remember that crazy day in Antigua when were were told by a local Guatemalan not to eat at that stand, but you and Steve did it anyway? or how about that crazy fruit food people like Andrew Zimmer describe smells like, “dead bodies”? Delicious!

It never fails, but along our crazy adventures we’ve had some incredible and crazy meals. Thank you for putting up with the abuse of exotic foreign cuisine and endless numbers of food challenges. Sure they were painful, but you handled it like a champ. There was never an “all you can eat” that you didn’t view as a challenge. Except for the 911 Chicken Challenge, which I promise we would never do again, there was no spice you turned away from. Regardless, whenever we got sick, I always knew that we were in it together. I’m sorry that things like pie crust and artificial grape flavors we can never eat again, but you live and you learn. If we’ve learned anything, no matter how good it was, it’s never good coming back up for a victory lap.

Over the years I’ve seen you grow up to maturity. You started off the size of a pistachio and today you are bigger than my fist. All that said, today after almost 30 years together, it’s time to call it quits because you’re killing me…but literally, you are trying to kill me. For all those times we’ve said, “it’s not you, it’s me”, this time, it really is just you. While it hurts me in more ways than one to do so, I’m breaking up with you. Don’t cry, it’s going to be OK, you’re moving on to a better place and in time I’ll learn to live without you. You’ll enjoy the life of research at a top class facility, and who knows, you may even unlock the cure for stomach cancers one day. Things won’t be the same for a while, but in time, we’ll return to a new normal and I will go back to what I love, my family, my church, motorcycles and triathlons. I believe we’ll be just fine. Thanks for all of the memories and digestion these three decades, I’ll never forget you. Cheers.

Love,

Steve