If A Fight Is What You Want, A Fight Is What You’ll Get!

Dear Body,

I know that you are currently under the weather, so I apologize in advance for where this letter is headed.  Please know that I appreciate all that you have done over these past 35 years, but your level of performance is completely unacceptable.  You have consistently neglected to perform at the level we discussed, and resisted all my attempts to help improve your performance.  Despite my offerings of prayer, exercise, meditation, medication, nutritionists, additional sleep, and much more, there has been very little change in your performance. 

My expectations of you have been reasonable, because I only asked you to do what normal bodies do.  I simply wanted you to eat, sleep, grow, heal, and all those other standard things.  Normal bodies properly digest meals, rather than become violently sick from “healthy foods”.  Normal bodies age on schedule, and don’t develop arthritis or osteoporosis before 60.  Normal bodies grow and develop, rather than shrink at a moments notice.  I think we can both agree that you have failed at being normal. 

When you failed to maintain your proper body weight, I offered 6 mp but you refused to accept this help.  In fact, you took my attempts to help as a challenge, and decided to fight even harder.  Your response was so vicious, that it took 40mg of prednisone daily for almost two years before you finally agreed to stop fighting.  When you finally stopped fighting, I thought you learned your lesson so I removed the prednisone.  You made me pay for that decision by seeking revenge using mouth sores, chronic fatigue, and inflamed joints.  As a peace offering I gave you Remicade, and committed to only use prednisone as a last resort.  You were happy with my offer, or so I thought, and agreed to perform at the expected level.  For three years you performed better than before, and actually met my expectations.  So, you can imagine my surprise and disappointment at your sneak attack this week. 

Your decision to wage a surprise attack before my NYC trip, was a real low blow.  That attack was petty, cowardly, and upset me more than anything you’ve done before.  But, while I found your sneak attack frustrating, I am actually glad you did it.  That one cheap move exposed the hidden war you had waged against me, that I would’ve missed until it was too late.  See, you had gained my trust by accepting the Remicade and repairing 35 years of damage.  But now dear enemy, I have come to realize that we are not, nor will we ever be friends.  

Given your recent actions, I believe we are at an impasse and running low on options.  It is painfully clear that we are well beyond me asking or encouraging you to perform.  You are aggressive, resistant, and will only conform once completely broken down.  I admire your persistence, but not enough to tolerate it.  So, tomorrow you will receive your usual breakfast of one glazed donut, a bottle of water, and the six prescriptions you are accustomed to receiving.  For lunch you will have plain mashed potatoes, bottle water, and the two mid-day prescriptions you love so much. For dinner, you will receive a special treat…a surprise I call the “Double Header.” You can expect to receive those hospital graham crackers that you love but are always unable to find in the store, your precious Remicade, and a new goodie that I will hand deliver at home. That goodie’s name is Methotrexate and I hear she’s a real fighter.  

Please know that this is not personal, but your underperformance has become intolerable…and quite frankly pissed me off.  It’s clear you want a fight, and I’m game. 

5 thoughts

  1. You just have to stay strong and keep winning the fight let the meds as well as the illness know am running this race and i intend to win this race yet again so you go about your life like you need and want to do and keep it moving and always remember Shit do happen


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