Over the past twenty-four hours, I’ve tossed into you two cups of coffee, seven pieces of buttered bread, two bowls of kidney-bean chili, three baked potatoes, three cream-filled Swedish candies and four fat Vitamin C tablets.
Stomach – I know you hate me for this grave misdemeanor. You have my heartfelt apologies. It’s term exam week, you know, and during times of stress I’m prone to emptying the refrigerator. Not that that’s any excuse.
You are the most stubborn, the most volatile of my organs. You never put up with any of my sh!t, and you let me know exactly when enough’s enough. We’ve been through a great deal, you and I. From my Technicolor vomiting to various grumbling pains. Thanks for sticking it through.
Intestines – you have never given me any cause to complain, save for a few minor episodes. Your versatility is probably a trait I inherited from my father’s DIGESTIVE SYSTEM OF STEEL. Thanks for continuing to do your job.
Pancreas & Liver – the both of you have been a very regular pair, especially you, pancreas. I apologize for the times my sugar intake spikes – thank you for not breaking down on me. Liver, I know you must be worried about my ever approaching adult age. I promise I will not destroy your tissues by pumping you with alcohol.
Lungs – ah, my versatile, quiet lungs. The pair of you have never, as long as I can remember, stopped my breath or abandoned me for whatever reason. Thank you for being more trustworthy than my sick brother’s darkened asthmatic lungs and the sooty lungs of my dead grandfather.
Kidneys & Bladder – I know I never drink enough water. Thanks for not bitching incessantly about it. I’ll do better, soon.
Heart – the most peaceful memory I have of my childhood: leaning over the chest of a friend, brushing away strands of hair from my face, touching my cheek, my eager ear, to her waiting skin, listening to the beat of her heart. Sometimes I can hear your rhythm in my temples, you, who are letting me know that I am still alive.
Brain – you are the most difficult to thank. There’s so much. But I’d like to thank you for storing everything that means something to me. I’d like to thank you for not freezing up on me during math exams, even when I got only six hours of sleep the night before. I’d like to thank you for helping me pick out words and lay them on pieces of paper. I’d like to thank you for making me.
So. Thank you, all of you. I hope we will be together for a long time.