V Plus 731

At long last, here it is. Two years ago this morning, my journey with short-gut began. An hour on the bathroom floor, a quick ride to the emergency room, and two days later, I woke up in Pittsburgh and began the fight of my life. I'm reminded of a joke that my uncle told shortly after I woke up, after I asked why, o why, was I in Pittsburgh of all places: If you have a heart problem, you go to Cleveland; where else besides Pittsburgh would you go for a bowel problem? It brought a quick smile to my face (being from Cleveland, and as a result a Browns fan, we all hate the Steelers; and the entire city of Pittsburgh is thus guilty by association). As the next few days passed, doctors assured me that there was hope, because the small intestine continues to adapt for two years after a bowel resection. Two years.

In November 2007, November 2009 seemed a lifetime away. In a way it was: Waking up in a hospital. Seeing my extended family file through the hospital room to see me. Taking my first steps. Going home for the first time. Ten confirmed kidney stones. Two that were over half an inch in diameter. Six months of nightly TPN. Another month of TPN for five nights a week. Two blood infections. A commencement address. Moving to college. Coming home from college. Staying home. Two years of "unemployment" during the worst economic meltdown in 80 years. Voting in the presidential election. Seeing the first African-American President being inaugurated. Starting a globally-read blog. A healthy rotation of daily pills. It could easily be a lifetime's worth of events. But it was just two years.

It has been quite the journey, and I realize that it is far from over. While I was initially told that the small intestine adapts for two years after resections; some research shows evidence that it will continue to adapt for five years after resection. I will choose to believe five years is correct, since it is most convenient for my goals. In this case, my intestines are less than halfway to their fully-adapted selves. This would definitely be a good thing. After just two years of adaptation, I have finally started gaining weight, with a net-gain of 11 pounds since after my surgeries. In all, since 11/1, I am down 16 pounds. Little known fact about the small intestine: it weighs approximately six pounds. Therefore, I have just ten pounds left to gain to reach my 11/1 weight, discounting the weight of my lost organs. Granted, this will be a much different weight than it was before V-Day (V for Volvulus). Pre-V-Day, I ran about five miles after school everyday at cross country practice. My senior year I ran a 5k (3.1 miles) in the low 19 minutes consistently. I have said before, I was far from a dominant force on the course, but 19 minutes is respectable enough. Now, I haven't ran since ... well ... V minus 11. October 22, 2007: my last cross country race and the last time a ran more than a few paces. Probably the last time I was shirtless in public, but that's a tangent I simply cannot afford to carry out. Pre-V-Day I was the epitome of teenage health (not quite); now ... not so much. Yesterday, for instance, the fam and I went to my grandparents house. My twin cousins (born on V plus 18) brought large toddler legos. So naturally, I sat in front of the TV and built a castle. As anyone who has ever been to a family gathering with young kids can attest, this inevitable turns into a wrestling match. Being the oldest, I, along with my sister, are the targets for tackling. Luckily, only one of my cousins is older than four. So the wrestling was more keeping my 8-year-old cousin on the ground while my sister and I alternated picking up the young boys and girls and laying them across the 8-year-old. It was surprisingly entertaining. And I am surprisingly sore today. The point I am trying to make here is this: Pre-V-Day I ran 30ish miles per week culminating in a 3-plus mile race. V plus I am really sore after an hour or so of wrestling with four young children.

But two years ago, I would have done anything to have known that two years later I would be wrestling with my cousins in my grandparents house and be fully capable of holding my own.

Now for the bad news. It is possible that my absence has been noticed. I haven't posted in over a month, the longest lapse since this blog's inception. The truth is that it has become a bit of a burden for me. When I first started writing, it was a crutch, another time-waster to supplement my time on facebook during which I filled the time not being taken up by my social life. The last few posts, I noticed that I was becoming stressed about coming up with things to write about. I take this as a good thing: my health is more stable now than it has been since pre-V-Day. But the purpose of the blog was to alleviate stress, not create it. So I am officially saying goodbye. I don't think it will be forever. I foresee myself updating the blog when I reach various milestones that I deem worthy of a blog post. But this is probably the last time I will be writing a blog for awhile.

The blog will still be active though. So if any reader has a question or comment on which they would like the Intestineless Wonder's advice, post a comment. I will receive an e-mail notification. The comment won't be posted unless I give it permission, so if you don't want it published for all to see, just stipulate that in your message. I will do everything I can to get back to you in a timely and efficient manner and with as much information as I possibly can.

This blog helped me a lot since February, and I am eternally grateful for the safety it provided me. A long-running joke in my family is that we have our "happy places" when we are really uncomfortable (one of my young twin cousins prefers to hide underneath the nearest desk). Well, for the last nine months, this blog was my happy place. When I was alone in my dorm room, sitting on my dirty, smelly futon wishing I had something to do, I did have something to do: I could share my thoughts and feelings with my faithful Wondeaders. So I would like to thank you for your support, convincing me that this was worth it. That I was worth it.

It has been two years, and at the same time it has only been two years. It has been such a long time, and yet, if feels as though it just happened. Two years. It was the unreachable summit. The day that never comes. V plus 731. And here I am standing on field of battle surrounded by fallen foes, and I am victorious. (Note: by "fallen foes," I am of course referring to various obstacles that I have had to overcome in the past two years, mentioned and unmentioned earlier and in previous posts)

To all those suffering with short-gut, I hope I can shed some light on this rare, virtually unknown disease. Know that you are not alone in your battles. It is not hopeless, although I know at times it may appear to be so. I hope this blog helps you find your way. It certainly helped me find mine.

Sincerely Yours, now and always,

The Intestineless Wonder

"One of the Most Intelligent and Humorous Responses to Date"

Friends, bills in your wallet, hairs on your head, pixels on your TV screen, and inches of your intestines all have one thing in common: you can never have too many. Initially, I've been under the impression that probiotics also fall into this category. But now I'm not so sure. After starting a new dosage of probiotics I go through the same cycle: bloating, discomfort, gurgling, frequent trips to the throne room, you get the idea. After four to seven days, the symptoms subside. But with this latest dosage, I have not yet returned to my awesome self. It has been two weeks-ish since I started taking the powdered form of the probiotics with the 0.9 TRillion live bacteria, but I haven't normalized. So I'm beginning to think that a TRillion bacteria might just be two much of a good thing. The last few days I have dropped back to just half a packet per day (450 Billion Bumbling Bacteria). We shall see if this helps in the coming days.

So I am taking English Composition II this semester. I took AP English my senior year, and I got a 4 on the AP English Language test, which allowed me to test out of English Composition I. Now, Ohio State may have the dumbest rule about testing out of freshman English, which I did thanks to my 4. At OSU, if you test out of freshman English, you still don't take sophomore English until sophomore year. Essentially they say, "Wow, you're so good at English you tested out of this class. Why don't you stop writing any assignments at all for a year and then come back and see how good you are." Well the joke's on them. My first writing assignment was to select an essay that we read on family values and write a summary, analysis, response to it. The first paragraph summarizes the essay, the second paragraph analyzes the writing techniques used, and the third paragraph is my response to the essay. Well, I hated every single anti-establishment, uber-liberal, anti-religion, anti-traditional family essay in the family values section. That is, all except for one: The Man Date, by Jennifer 8. Lee (Yes, her middle name is 8). It was about the rules and all-around uncomfortableness surrounding one-on-one, heterosexual male bonding that does not involve business or sports. I wrote my essay in about 40 minutes while watching the Titans-Steelers football game. My goal was basically to give him the impression that I am going to do everything possible to write humorously and give my personal twist on every topic I write on, while also following his prompts. I also wanted to see how he would react to what I wrote, as in how much he would let me get away with. His comments at the end of the essay went like this: "An excellent paper. I think you had one of the most intelligent and humorous responses to date. Look forward to your work this semester. A." In other words: "You are the greatest writer in the history of America. Write whatever you want for the rest of the semester, and I'll love it blindly." Ever since he has greeted me at the beginning and end of every class. We had another essay due last week. It was a short research paper about a topic of our choosing about family values again. In the two papers, I have referenced Seinfeld, the NFL, the Office, the Brady Bunch, and Two and a Half Men. Our third paper is due on Friday. The goal is to get a How I Met Your Mother reference in some how. I have a few ideas.

Speaking of the NFL (go back, you'll find it), I have always been a Browns fan, except for the three years that they did not exist, and my fandome was in a brief state of limbo. I have never, EVER seen a football team as wonderfully awful as the 2009 Cleveland Browns. They are terrible. They are simply awful. Take away a Josh Cribbs kick return and a garbage touchdown in Week 1, and the Browns have scored just 15 points. Five field goals. In 12 quarters of football. If you aren't a Browns fan (lucky you), they drafted Brady Quinn out of Notre Dame a few years back, and that year Derek Anderson went to the Pro-Bowl. Ever since that season D.A. has been awful. This year Brady won the starting QB position. He has not been good at all. So Mangini decided to put D.A. in for the second half this week against the Ravens (the team formerly known as the Browns), and he promptply threw three interceptions. I was embarassed for them. So I have made my final decision on the matter. I am now a Titans fan first and a Browns fan second, instead of the other way around. You may be thinking, "Hey wait, the Titans, like the Browns, are 0-3." There's a difference between the two records, though. The Browns have been outscored 357-29 in three games. The Titans have lost their games by 3, 7, and 7 points. They are close games. And with Chris Johnson they are exciting games. So go Titans.

Speaking of football, the Zips football stadium is fantastic. InfoCision Stadium at Summa Field is a total gem. It's beautiful. Really. Well, at least it was. We in northeast Ohio have been having our yearly early fall wind storms the past day or two. Every year, usually during the last few weeks of September or early October, we have this weather pattern that rolls in with hurricane-force winds and rain. It marks the end of summer and the beginning of pre-winter. You're probably asking yourself what this has to do with the stadium. Well the eastern edge of the stadium is a seven-story facade that contains the press box and all of the private seating areas. The prevailing winds, in northeast Ohio, come out of the east and slam right into this facing. Long story short, the D, I, U, and M blew off the face of the stadium. It now says, "InfoCision Sta." I find it humorous that the school spent millions of dollars on this stadium and the sign isn't even strong enough to make it through the first season. You would think that the designers would have thought to make the outdoor northeast Ohio facility weatherproof.

The football team at Akron is not the football team at Ohio State. They are not the pride of the school. The pride of Akron would be the men's soccer team. The #1 nationally ranked men's soccer team. While I was there, my high school's soccer teams were very, very good. The men's team won a state title, and the women's team won a national (yes, national) title. I went to many of the big games. I don't know much about soccer, but I like it a lot. Being the sports connoisseur that I am, I am pretty good at picking up rules governing a game by watching for a short time, which is what I've done with soccer. I've simply watched and learned. I think I've picked up most of the basics, but few of the subtleties. Anyway, the Zips men's soccer team is the best I've ever seen play. They dominate every game I've been to. The problem with soccer, though, is that the score doesn't always indicate how dominant one team may have been over the other. For instance, a few weeks ago, the Zips beat the #6 ranked Indiana Hoosiers 1-0. It sounds like a close, competitive game. It wasn't. The Zips controlled the ball for nearly the entire 90 minutes. Needless to say, I missed the only goal. That's right. The Zips had a penalty kick, were setting up, I looked to my left, and the student section erupted in cheers while the team chased the Walsh Jesuit-alum who scored up and down the pitch (that's right, WJ-alum scored the one and only goal and I know that the soccer field is called a "pitch"). Wednesday night the Zips play the Buckeyes of Ohio State. I'll be there to watch Akron once again destroy the Bucks.

If it isn't obvious, I'm not really sure what I should write about sometimes. This post was mostly a self-indulgent, journal/diary entry. I haven't had a post in almost three weeks so I feel it is necessary to post something. But I don't always have material. I am simply going by the thought that something is better than nothing. Feel free to comment or e-mail me with any questions or comments you may have.

Later, yo. -IW

Does All This Weight Make Me Look Fat?

You may remember that a few weeks before my freshman year of college ended, I wrote a blog effectively jinxing the freshman fifteen (and by effectively, I mean ineffectively). For various reasons it didn't work, and I was as low as I had been when I returned home in the middle of June. And it stayed that way until just after my final (knock on wood) kidney stone annihilation procedure. Then, my weight jumped two pounds and plateaued for a week and a half or two weeks. Then it jumped another two pounds and plateaued again. In all, I have gained 8 pounds since the middle of July. I know what you're thinking: "What the what?!" It's true, though. 8 pounds in just under two months. Four of the last five days have been my four heaviest morning weights since my days on TPN.

I've been reflecting upon this weight gain for a while now (just under just under two months). I know that it is partially because I am home. I am home, eating good food prepared with a short-gut diet in mind. I am home, eating a lot of good food prepared with a short-gut diet in mind. But I've eaten good food before without results like this. I think, nay, I know it's something else.

It has been 22 months, and one week, since my resection. I remember being in the ICU in Pittsburgh, and the surgeon told me that the small intestine continues to grow and adapt after a resection for two years. Well I am on the eve of my two-year anniversary, a day that once seemed so unreachable, and yet, here I am. My doctor at the Cleveland Clinic told me that some research suggests that the small intestine will continue to adapt up to 5 years after a resection. Thinking about this, I think I finally figured out why I am gaining weight. My intestines finally woke up. They realized that there was no way we could get by weighing as much as Babe Ruth's bat. And the window for peak adaptation was approaching. I am guessing that peak adaptation occurs between 2 and 5 years after a resection. It's just a hunch. I could be wrong (although, I rarely am). But I think the scale is currently speaking for itself.

8 pounds. It doesn't sound like much, but it is. I can feel those 8 pounds. I can feel it when I get up in the morning, when I walk around campus, and when I am reheating dinner late at night. I feel like I am getting closer to the pre-11/2 me, again. I am standing up straight when I walk again. I am holding my head at a confidently high angle again, high enough to suggest that I am quite certain of how awesome I am, but not so high that you can be sure this is the message I am trying to send. And I have my crooked, pre-11/2 smile back, complete with both dimples on my freshly plump, yet not bloated cheeks. All in all, I have my swagger back ... well, almost. Another 20 pounds or so, and I'll have it all the way back.

The campus I am walking around, I feel compelled to add, is the University of Akron. It's only the third week of class, but I am 100% certain that I made the right decision to transfer. In terms of professors: at Akron, they are there to teach me; at Ohio State, teaching me was time that could be better spent doing their own research. In terms of on-campus food: Akron has a Subway; Ohio State didn't. In terms of people: yesterday I was in the library doing a little homework in between classes, and a friend of mine that I used to work with happened to walk in and sat down; at Ohio State, I saw a few friendly faces around my floor, and that was it.

Sure, the University of Akron football team is no Ohio State Buckeyes. I mean Akron lost to Penn State last week. It's not like the Buckeyes lost to the Nittany Lions- oops. Well Ohio State was closer to Penn State last year than Akron was this year. Akron lost 31-7. The Buckeyes were never embarrassed by that much- oops.

Sure, OSU has the legendary Horseshoe, but Akron has InfoCision Stadium which will host its first game this Saturday. This first football game on Akron's campus since 1940. Since then the Zippers have always played at the Rubber Bowl (basically a less flashy, less well-known Horseshoe with a less-successful team). But this is a state-of-the-art facility, being called "a gem." Plus, I get in free. I paid about $150 for football tickets last year. And I was four rows from the top, behind a support beam, and not in the student section. This year, if I get there early enough, I could be in the first row right on the end zone line in the student section with the rest of the AK-Rowdies. And that's exactly where I plan to be.

The final point I'd like to discuss tonight is perhaps the most important to those living and dealing with short-gut. PROBIOTICS. Live bacteria that I have been taking to deal with SIBO. I have been taking VSL-3 which costs $50 per bottle containing 30 doses. My mother, ever the frugalista, has found a way to get -wait for it- two months worth of doses at - wait for it - four times as many live bacteria for - wait for it - $40. I'll give you a minute to let that sink in ... ... ... That's right. Eight times as much for $10 less. The probiotics she found are in powder form that need to be mixed with a non-carbonated beverage. One dose of this is nearly a trillion (with a "TR") live bacteria, swimming eagerly in my Powerade Zero, ready to take on the bad bacteria in my small intestine. I know what you're saying: "What the what?!" She took the prescription to the pharmacy, the pharmacy filled it, and she paid $40 because insurance covered the rest of the cost. The same insurance company that told her on the phone that it didn't cover this medication because it "isn't a necessity." Well joke's on you Anthem Blue Cross/Blue Shield, we only paid $40. Deal with it.

That's all for now, but expect a post about how awesome the game is this Saturday.

Go Zips! -IW

Author's Note: I will, as soon as I return from InfoCision Stadium, change into my James Laurinitis jersey and scarlet hat, and plop down on the couch to watch Ohio State return the favor to the men of Troy. Go Buckeyes!

I'm in Love with my Car

So for a while now, my car has felt dangerously close to falling apart every time I have driven it. A few months back, my mom needed to borrow it. When she was done she said she would never get in it again until we had it repaired. I drive a 2001 Oldsmobile Alero. It's dark blue, and one of the coolest affordable cars in America. It looks fairly nice, aside from the inexplicable rust on the right front edge of the hood. And the right mirror is missing the right half of where the glass is. And the horn no longer works (that's a funny story). And the driver's seat no longer moves up and down as it is supposed to (or at all).

Anyway, the problem was that every time I would step on the break pedal the front of the car would violently shake, the pedal would thump and pulsate against my foot, the breaks would squeal, and it felt as if the car would never, ever stop. So naturally I drove it to Cedar Point last week with a few friends. I know that sounds irresponsible now but last week we knew it would be fine to make the hour and a half, all highway drive. While Subster and I were driving up there, though, three dashboard lights spontaneously lit up, in addition to the light that has been on for weeks (Service Engine Soon). The three that lit up were Service Vehicle Soon, Anti-Lock, and Trac Off. I had Subinator look through the manual to see what danger we were in, but it said we were in no danger at all - except we no longer had anti-lock breaks and slip-resistant drive. It was a dry day, so I decided we would be fine, and we made it there and back alive and without any accidents.

But since I will be commuting to school everyday this year, I figured I should take it in to make sure it is in good enough condition to drive, have it put in good enough condition to drive, or make the decision to trade it in, pray it qualifies for cash for clunkers, and get a better car. The mechanic eventually found that the dashboard was malfunctioning, I needed new Tye rods (sounds made up to me), and - o yea - the front two rotors were completely destroyed. Sounds simple enough. So he fixed it. Then it turns out the right front bearing (made up?) was malfunctioning and that is what caused the lights to come on. Then it turns out the same thing was happening to the left front bearing. This means that - here's the funny part - as long as the breaks have felt bad, the front tires have been in severe danger of freezing - spontaneously not turning anymore, to the mechanically un-savvy. Good thing I didn't take this car on a 3-hour road trip last week.

The important thing, though, is that now we really know that the Alero is in not just good condition, but great condition. That's coming from the mechanic: "once we fix all of this the rest of the car is in great condition." And it passed its E-check today, too, so it's environmentally acceptable! Woohoo!

The Alero lives on. Which is great, because I love my car. I really do. Even though before a cross country practice senior year, I went to my car and saw my rear view mirror dangling from the wire for the light, because it decided to come unstuck from the windshield. But I fixed it (twice). And even though the Walsh Jesuit sticker is peeling off of the back window. And I love that I have never washed it while it's been "mine" (since December 2, 2006). Through the WJ renovation construction, and cross country, and three northeast Ohio winters. And even though nobody but Subakkah understands the allusion made by its name, Mr. Fahrenheit. Or few understand the allusion made by its shortened name, Mr. F.

It's cool though, because it's my car. About 7,000 miles of the 104,700 are mine. It's been to Cedar Point twice under my watch and it rained on both days. It made countless 2-mile drives to and from Acme grocery store during junior and senior years. It was the car I learned to drive in, the car I first drove myself to school in, and the first car I drove after my surgeries. It sat in the driveway, neglected, for nine months while I was in Columbus, getting only a few trips around the block to keep the engine "fresh." But, hey, it still gets more attention than the Expedition (Anybody want to trade for an Expedition?). It's my car, and it's awesome.

Don't forget to donate to the Intestineless Wonder Super Awesome Jet Ski Relief Fund for America.

Drive Safely and Buckle Up -IW

Spare the Rod

I had my latest biannual appointment at the Cleveland Clinic last week. It was just a routine check up to make sure I'm still doing alright, adjust some medications, and collect a $25 co-pay. The first thing my nutritionist said when she walked in was, (I'm paraphrasing here) "Wow, look how awesome you look!" It's amazing what four pounds and a summer's worth of sunshine does for a previously pale, sickly looking teenager. Currently, our biggest foe is still the SBBO (Small Bowel Bacterial Overgrowth). As you may remember reading, a few months ago I began taking one dose of VSL-3, a probiotic meant to fight the SBBO. It began to help a lot, but I never really got to enjoy it because shortly after that I began my war with kidney stones (stone free for over a month!). For the past few week, though, I have been able to enjoy all that the probiotics have done, which includes cutting down on the persistant gurgling noise, stomach discomfort, and all-around horribleness that comes with the Short-Gut experience. My nutritionist has recommended that I double my intake of the VSL-3. It is now up to 500 billion good bacteria per day. 500 billion. Billion. With a "B".

I haven't yet noticed a lot of difference, but my expectations are pretty high. This VSL-3 stuff has helped so much, and that's with just one dose per day. The bottle says that a patient can take up to 4 doses each day (that would be an even trillion). That's a lot of good bacteria. I will know when it starts working when I have significantly less gurgling. I like to think of the gurgling as the battle cries of the two bacterial armies, a microscopic, less Scottish William Wallace shouting to the hills: "they may take our lives, but they'll never take our FREEDOM!" (Translated from: brrgullahgabrgrburlagehdaahhh").

And now William Wallace's army will be twice the size. And if they should fail, his good friend, Delios will be right behind, preaching: "The enemy outnumber us a paltry three to one. Good odds for any GREEK (Greatly Reduced, yet Effective Eliminator of Krap). This day we rescue a world from stomach discomfort and bloating and usher in a future brighter than any we can imagine. Give thanks men, to our other GREEKS and the brave VSL-3! To VICTORY!"

If Delios' speech is not quite inspiring enough, perhaps V will do better. "We're oft to blame, and this is too much proved, that with devotion's visage and pious action we do sugar on the devil himself." (Quoting Hamlet, of course).

William Wallace, Delios, and V. A more powerful leadership force has never been assembled. Fictional? Sure. Effective? Totally.

Switching modes for the rest of the post, the fam and I had our semi-cation over this past weekend. I call it a semi-cation because, while it was our vacation this year, we simply spent the weekend at my grandparents' lake house while they were at my grandfather's -0th high school reunion. It was wonderfully relaxing. We played a round of golf at the nine-hole course, grilled steaks one night, and played cards. But then we realized something. Swimming in a murky, seaweed-filled lake with no goal is not much fun. We need to upgrade our frisbee and splash balls for a more age-appropriate toy. So if any of you would like to donate to the Intestineless Wonder Super Awesome Jet Ski Fund for America, please leave your e-mail address and I will contact you. Jet skis are expensive people, so don't be afraid to be generous. It's not just for me, it's for America.

A special Happy Birthday wish goes out to my cousin Kyle, who turns 8 on Thursday. Hi Klye!

-IW

P.S. Those speeches may have been loosely based on similar speeches from Braveheart, 300, and V for Vendetta. Don't tell anyone.

Hungry, Hungry Kiddo

Greetings. Today, I'm going to focus completely on Short-Gut and how I deal with it. First off, my case of SG is not nearly as bad as most. During my initial surgeries, the surgeons were able to salvage a little bit of every section of the small intestine (there are three) and most importantly the ileo-secal valve (that's how it sounds but, in all likelihood, is not how it's spelled) which keeps partially digested food in the small intestine until it's ready to enter the large intestine. Many people who had bowel resections lose this and that is the reason why they require frequent trips to the restroom. My parents and I have always said that as bad as everything was when this all started, from when I first went into surgery to when I finally came out, everything went right.

So on a daily basis, I eat a lot. Very frequent meals. But meals nontheless. They aren't huge meals, but they're definitely more than a snack. And I thought, I know I've said that before on the blog, but I doubt my point has been made. So today I give you A Day in the Menu of the Intestineless Wonder. This particular menu took place on Tuesday, July 21, 2009.

Breakfast: 3 egg omelet with ham, cheese, green onion, white onion, and tomato; two pieces white toast with (I Can't Believe It's Not) butter and (Sugar-Free) strawberry jam; Activia Light Vanilla yogurt; 100 calorie Little Debbie brownie.

Lunch: Taco Salad - ground beef, cheese, tortilla chips, lettuce, tomato, green onion, light sour cream, fat free Catalina dressing, hot sauce.

Second Lunch: 3 pancakes with light syrup.

Dinner: Macaroni and Tuna Salad - Macaroni, tuna, mozzerella cheese, hard-boiled egg, green onion, special sauce (light Miracle Whip, ketchup, and milk); two slice white Italian bread with (I Can't Believe It's Not) butter; three cookies.

Second Dinner: Cheeseburger - homemade hamburger, swiss cheese, light Miracle Whip, ketchup, wheat bun; handful of regular potato chips.

Third Dinner: Pizza flavored Lean Pocket; handful of regular potato chips.

Fourth Dinner: Taco Salad again.

Late-Night Dessert: Rootbeer Float - two scoops sugar-free vanilla ice cream, diet A&W rootbeer.

Beverages: 32 ounces of Powerade Zero (I prefer blue, because we all know blue flavors are the best in all brands of sports drink); 12 ounces of Diet Rite soft drink; 12 ounces of skim milk; 12 ounces of Diet Sunkist Lemonade (it sounds weird but it tasted delicious); 20 ounces of Vitamin Water 10 (they don't have blue).

As you can see, it's an extensive menu. Keep in mind, too, that I am a bum. Which means I wake up at 11:30 and go to sleep at 1:30. Which means I ate all of this in 14 hours. On most days I only have three dinners. I'm not exactly sure why I felt the need for a fourth on Tuesday. But that night I weighed more than I have since May 2008, and ten pounds heavier than my average weight just a month ago. It seems that the good home-cookin' is helping the cause. All of the meals I eat are made with the leanest meat my mom can find at the store and all "light" or "fat-free" ingredients. The most important part of a delicious meal, though, is the fresh vegetables. They turn an egg and cheese omelet into a southwestern omelet, nachos into taco salad, and a hamburger into ... well, a more delicious hamburger.

Keep Eating. -IW

Good News

So last time I posted, I was one day away from what I now know to be called a lithotripsy (that's how it sounds, but perhaps not how it's spelled). Basically they were going to send sound waves at my kidney to break up a large stone. I expected to be in a lot of pain for a long time, mostly because that's what usually seems to happen, and my urologist said I would be. I was obviously in pain the day of the surgery. I felt like I fell into a doorknob or something. It was really sore, but it didn't look like a bruise. It was more of a scrape. I was scabbed for about a week. Initially the scab was a little larger than the size of a coaster. The day after the surgery, I felt virtually no pain at all. A little soreness but nothing else. The next three days or so I felt as if I was passing kidney stones. But the percocet mostly killed the pain, and I have been pain free since then. Believe it or not, I think it is safe to call the surgery a success! Good news for me ... and my urologist.

Now on to more mundane matters of the short-gut variety. While I was away at school, and even the first few weeks of my summer at home, I usually got a stomach ache late in the evening, after dinner. Being a nineteen-year-old boy who tries to be perceived as normally as possibly, when I eat a meal, I eat larger portions than, say, my mother or sister would eat. And I always, of course, cleaned my plate. But for some reason in the last few weeks, I have found myself eating dinner, reaching the point where I feel content, and, instead of cleaning my plate on principle, I have been leaving food on the table. I must say, I have felt better at night. The grumbling that used to be a staple of post-dinner relaxation has subsided, allowing me and the fam to focus on what's really important: whatever we are watching on TV. Ha.

I have also been having other positive reinforcement lately. Since going down 20 1/2 months ago, my doctors have advised me to keep on eye on my weight. I lost about 25 pounds in the two days following the vovulus. In the six months after, I gained 20 pounds with the help of the Leash. In the two months after coming off TPN, I lost those 20 pounds. I have been almost completely level since then. Not losing any, but certainly not gaining. I was always slightly below the nearest 10 pound mark. Every once in awhile I would venture above that level for a day, maybe two, but would quickly drop back to where I was. But get this, it has now been over a week since I was below that mark. Which means, I think I may be gaining a little weight. Knock on wood.

My family says I look better too, even since coming home for the summer. They say my face looks fuller, and I am standing up straighter. The posture is one thing that really bothers me. Growing up, I was always the short one. Always. I was 5 feet even on my first day of high school. Naturally, I always wanted to be taller. This resulted in tremendous posture throughout my entire life. I was always doing everything I could to appear taller: back straight, shoulders back, chin up. But after my abdominal surgery, my abs were incredibly sore. So I slouched. Back hunched, shoulders rolled forward, elbows back. I have made conscious efforts to improve this for the past year, which is when I really started to feel a little normal again because I no longer had the catheter in my chest.

In sporting news, the Indians are a poor excuse for a baseball team. That's not so good news.

My sister and I are going to the midnight showing of Harry Potter tonight at the local cinemas. I remember the first time I became aware of the Potter series. I was in fourth grade: ten years ago. The fourth book had just been released, and I was just reaching the reading level necessary to read the early books. I read the first four in the summer between fourth and fifth grades. When the fifth one came out, I read it in about two weeks. Then the sixth one came out. For some reason I bought it, but never read it. I'm not sure why. Then it came time for the seventh book to be released, so I needed to read the sixth one. I read it in three days. In the town just north of where we live, they had a big Potter-themed festival culminating in the midnight-release of the seventh book. A few friends and I went. It sounds kind of lame, but it was so much fun. I got home around one in the morning, sat down, and read about 200 pages. That day, my mom, sister, and I were driving to Chicago for a softball tournament my sister was in. I finished the book during the six-hour ride. That was the summer of 2007, so I was in between junior and senior years in high school. So, yea, I read the seventh book in a twenty-four hour period, not to brag or anything. Ha.

I guess the point is, I've been a Harry Potter fan since I was in fourth grade, which was ten years ago. Since I am 19, that is more than half my life. And the final movie isn't set to be released until 2011. Which will make me 21. And I will be as pumped as ever to go watch a movie about wizardry in the fantasy world created by J.K. Rowling. And let's face it, it won't be released in 2011. It will be pushed back at least until the summer of 2012, which means I will be 22. I can't wait. Although, I would be more excited if there were another book in the series than I am about the movies. Not that the books are great literature. Trust me, they aren't. They're just creative, interesting, and engrossing. I doubt that a hundred years from now Harry Potter will be a staple in high school British Literature courses. But maybe that what they said a hundred years ago about Frankenstein and Dracula. "They're entertaining stories about monsters, but I would be surprised if they last past our generation."

Other good news about the new film: the Vatican approves of this one because one of the major themes of the final episodes is the good should and will overcome evil. So even though Rowling never hints at the existence of a transcendent being, Hogwarts is no longer a home to sinners destined to walk the primrose path to an everlasting bonfire. So good news for Harry and the lot of them. And good news for those who have heard the Good News: we no longer have to confess to enjoying a work of fiction that is not supposed to be real at all. I think that's about all I have to say for now.

Until next time, mischief managed. -IW