why I blog

It appears that this blog, which I have always thought to have pretty low readership given the specialization of its topics, has received some recognition.  The Nursing School Blog has recently listed How We Cant Eat Anything in their "Top 40 Blogs for Crohn's Support".  How cool, and how humbling to receive such recognition!  It inspired me to expatiate a bit about why it is that I blog.

When I first began How We Cant Eat, it was intended to be a source of support and humor (amidst myriad complaints and woe-is-me's, of course) for other Crohns.  In particular, I had hoped to reach out to other Crohns and anyone with AI  Sidekicks (autoimmunity, not to be confused with artificial intelligence) who were pursuing a similar career path to myself; that is, Science.

During my period of darkness which began in August of 2009 (see archives), I had scoured any and all resources for proof that it could be done, this juggling of chronic health tempestuousness with the scientific research and graduate student lifestyle.  I found (at the time) no such accounts, and decided to create my own in the hope of attracting protagonists of a similar vein.  The accounts I did find, however, have been -- and remain -- extraordinary comforts and testimonies of empowerment (see "Crohnies and Foodies" and "Science Coterie" blogrolls, and here).

Today, my reasons for blogging have evolved slightly.  First of all, I'm actually about to enter into that mysterious land of pre-doctoral scientific research, and will be equipped to comment on the maintaining of balance.  Twoly, I hope to continue to contribute to the discussion of tips, successes and failures, keeping hold of a proactive state of mind and body, and obstacle negotiation methodology.  It has been hugely beneficial to me thus far, and I can only hope that readership and discussion will continue to grow.  Perhaps this recent link love from The Nursing School Blog will not only buffer readership of  How We Can't Eat, but through doing so connect its humble narrator to many more such catalogs of the journey of balancing AI Sidekicks with successfully (at least sometimes) chasing one's passions.

I love to write, I love science, and I love trouble-shooting.  The latter is a large part of my ruminations on Crohn's disease as well as research, and wh'ver the twain shall meet.  How We Can't Eat is also a juxtaposition of my entirely science/media oriented blog, How We Are Hungry.  I write in that blog purely for the pleasure of deliberation, to develop my scientific voice, and (pardon the blatant allusion) out of hunger for any extraction from the intricate puzzles of universe through the scientific lens.

Afternote: Please plug your blog if it does not already appear on either of my blogrolls!

Food of the Day: Onion

It has been far too long since I wrote about food...

Onions are supposed to be on the list of a Crohnie's worst nightmares because of their acidity and propensity to cause gas.

I have two secrets.  Although you definitely to not want onions anywhere near your gut during a flare, when the slightest irritation can cause a major downfall...

1)  Onions are infamous for their anti-inflammatory properties.  Namely, [Lanzotti 2006].  But of particular interest to me as a Crohnie was a study by Merhi et al of Paris and Tours, France, indicating that some of the thiosulfinates in onion (and garlic) inhibit the production of TNF-alpha.  Albeit this study used leukemia cell lines (U937, established from a diffuse lymphoma; NB4, isolated from a promyelotic leukemia) to implicate foods high in thiosulfinates as cancer fighters.  However, they happened to also suggest that thiosulfinates might be directly inhibiting TNF-alpha.  The U937 and NB4 cell lines were developed for their proliferative properties, and this being a characteristic of the immune system it is not inconceivable that a similar mechanism might be working in the intestinal cells overexpressing TNF-alpha in Crohnies.  Maybe I should go into gastroenterology research instead of neuroscience... I'm already proposing breakthrough studies.

In 1990, Walter Dorsch of the University of Munich claimed that another thiosulfinate (diphenylthiosulfinate) displayed anti-inflammatory activity greater than that of prednisolone (yes, the active metabolite of the infamous Prednisone).  Although Dorsch's group was also using leukocytes, the implication for general inflammatory activity is clear.

2) If you cook the onion, the acid content goes down considerably... 

During this latest escapade wherein H.B. has switched his career to film making and is now diligently and scrupulously working on his first grand production, his brother, h.b. (hungry brother) is inhabiting our guest/lego room... and kitchen.  And yes, I am talking about the next generation of Coen Brothers.

h.b. is a fine chef, and has graced us with several superb meals thus far in his stay, not the least of which being Onion Soup.  He bought 8 giant onions -- never before had I seen so many in a kitchen at once -- and sauteed/wilted them down to a meager pile of oniony goodness.  It is thoroughly embarrassing to admit it, but I was like a small child watching cotton candy being made.

Two quarts of chicken broth and a generous splash of red wine later, we were pouring this most amazing olfactory treat over toasted french rolls and Gruyere (my "Gruyere" was, of course, grated soy cheese).

I survived this meal with zero ramifications.  Zero.  Finally, one of these drugs is doing something right.

 

Can anyone tell that I've been reading a lot of Alison Weir lately?

Tofu, Squash and the Microbial Squadron

In the quest to ween off of the short-term friendly diet base of breads and rice, I am finding two things:

1) My allergies dictate that a myriad of exceptions from the rules be formulated, and

2) These diets -- particularly the ones that are based on moving away from modern food-preservation and agricultural technology -- are far too nit-picky for my stress level.  That is fantastic for people who can and/or need to be that scrupulous with what they put into their bodies (often Coeliacs and Rheumatoid Arthritics, both malabsorption-centric), but not for me.

Current quests: 

1) to replace most rice noodles with various stringed squashes, and

2) replace most breads with tofu.

Current obstacles:

1) If my SBFT results come back rampant with strictures, I will not be able to eat stringed squash, and

2) tofu is "illegal" on the SCD diet (my guiding reference).

Current absurdities:

1)   Spaghetti squash is high in complex carbohydrates.  Why is it on the SCD diet if this is so?  Because these complex carbohydrates are not starches (2), the favorite sustenance of the microbial squadron.  Therefore, spaghetti squash is excellent for the SCD diet, but not so excellent for me... in terms of making it through my system, rice noodles are better.  Sacrifice the carbohydrate eradication or risk intestinal rupture?  This is going to involve a very slow process of replacing carbs with fiber one food at a time; elsewise, my poor brain will not be able to suppress the hormonal onslaught of PPR-bred anxiety.

2) The reason that tofu is illegal on the SCD diet is because of the ambivalence of its carbohydrate content.  Apparently, no one has bothered to figure out what carbohydrate prevalence results from the fermentation and processing of the genetically manipulated soy beans that beget tofu.  My condition at the moment is more defined by "solid substance sensitivity" than by my concern for entirely starving out the microbial forces in my gut (see above).  Therefore, the carbohydrate content of tofu being so minimal as compared to its protein and fiber content -- even as its carbohydrate chain specificities are unknown -- I will allow it.  I simply can't afford to eliminate everything by-the-molecule, only to reduce.  Baby steps.

Additionally, screw complete elimination of rice because if I cannot eat sushi once in a while life is just not worth the hassle.

Statement of Purpose

Today, following a morning of writhing on the bathroom floor and an afternoon of walking around PSU's farmer's market in the South Park Blocks, I finalized my SOP.  The following are a compilation of my recommendations for aggressively tackling this process.

1) Choose your layout strategically.  I had two separate drafts in front of me this evening.  The first was a statement by chronology, the second, a statement by subject.  Print out a draft, cut up the paragraphs, have a seat on the living room floor and rearrange your topics until they become more adhesive.  In my case, things were made much stronger by topical layout.

2) Show your SOP to your letter of recommendation writers. Your letters should fill in the blanks that your SOP doesn't expatiate.  My boss, for instance, included an anecdote about my being singled out by the benefactor of one of my undergraduate research grants at the reception following my presentation (which I did not know she was attending!), and that this woman is now a friend of mine.

3)  Keep the intro short and powerful.  Honestly, three sentences introducing your unique passion, your resolve and perhaps a plug for the program are all you need to be epic, here.


4) Every paragraph should relate back to your research interests, experience and future.  Don't talk about what a passionate, hard worker you are; show how you are and what you've done.

5)  Read out loud.  Seriously.  All of the errors that your eyes didn't catch will be like fresh wounds to your ears.

After five drafts, I am finally proud of my self-representation.  I struggled more with this essay than any other I have written in my life. 

Food of the Day: Egg

Ladies and gentlemen; after a thoroughly embarrassing evening of nibbling on sweet potato while the rest of the Family inhaled this delicious smelling Italian sausage spaghetti that Charlie's mom made, I officially hate this disease.

It is one thing to have to insult your immediate family by not partaking in scrumptious meals - in fact, mine has always been particularly patient- and quite another when the family is your boyfriend's. This is the second time they have met me. During our first trip down here in March, I was also ill. I was eating solid food, but very carefully. Charlie's papa made some amazing beef stew our first night here and I was mortified to have to refuse it. Mortified. Last night, this feeling was revisited.

This agitation never occurs among my friends, my immediate family, but the plaguing fear of Charlie's family resenting me for weighing on his life and requiring special treatment destroys me. These are particularly kind people, bear in mind, and my abashment is probably quite unfounded. Nevertheless, I am a guest in their house making demands for accommodation, unable to enjoy their food and likely being less than thrilling company in the meantime (I was so distracted by embarrassment last night that I hardly spoke during supper).

In honor of this profound motivation to begin adding to my dietary melange (potatoes, rice noodles, rice cakes, refried beans), our Food of the Day is the EGG.

In 1939, Tiselius and Eriksson-Quensel published an in vitro digestion of egg albumin in crystalline pepsin. Their results suggested that egg whites digest in an "all or none" fashion, unlike the usual graduate process of digesting most foods. If a Crohn's gut were anything like a petri dish, this would successfully dissuade me from attempting to ingest it tomorrow. I also learned that this anti-digestive factor in raw egg white is destroyed during heating. Score!

Eggs stimulate less secretion of gastric juice than meats, and also leave the body sooner; doubly enticing for a Crohnie. Soft-boiled, poached eggs and shirred eggs are the easiest forms of digestion, while scrambling slows down the process [Anthony Basser, Diseases of the stomach and upper alimentary tract]. Basically, the longer the eggs are cooked, the harder the albumin (anti-digestive factor in whites) protein becomes and the more tedious is digestion. It follows that adding butter or oil to the preparation process also markedly slows digestion.

Tomorrow, I will be ingesting a poached egg.

...but it wanes

Two things happened today:

1) My boss mentioned how awful his GRE scores were and that he didn't think he could get into Stanford's program today. He then commented that many people who he deems scientists worth training apply to OHSU with scores barely breaching 1000.

2) I tried to eat some rice and nearly died.

My reactions to these things were as follows:

1) Inspired by my boss's honesty, I went home and did another practice test using scratch paper this time instead of trying to train myself for speed by doing everything in my head. 20% improvement. :) My boss's vitiating of the general GRE was inspiring. This is a man who I respect a great deal; it is exceedingly rare to find in one person a great scientist, mentor and boss. So I have decided, with the help of his accidental encouragement, to concentrate on my health and let the test go what way it will. If Stanford refuses to interview me because my algebra and vocabulary analogies are mediocre, it is truly their loss. Well... and mine, because I would miss out on their Masters of Medicine program... but mostly theirs. The 20% improvement is also very settling.

2) I'm fucking sick of Ensure, broth and emulsified cracker. So I attempted the unthinkable: Jasmine rice. Five minutes later, I repented. Very, very desperately. To the gods of Kobol.

On a more relevant note, Dr. S got back to me today and said exactly what I expected him to: if I'm not getting any worse, stick to the prednisone and try to tough out the lack of diet. Prednisone doesn't work at the same rate for all flares. I am hoping that if I shift my concern away from the GRE (having accepted its overly dressed self-importance) and focus on staying happy and calm, I will sooner be able to enjoy such tasty things as... potato!

drug malaise + studying

I woke up today in a bent of depression. I've missed three days of work, all spent in a blur of drugs, pain and sleep. With the stimulatory effects of prednisone now battling the suppression of the oxycodone and promethazine, I find myself in a limbo of consciousness where I can neither sleep or focus in an adequate way.

I decided that now was an opportune time to play around with that psychological rule of learning: if I attempt to study when high, will I then have a better chance of performing decently if I have to take the GRE under-the-influence. Oddly, this served to alleviate the depression instead of exacerbate it. Hilarious relief.

My point of struggle in studying is with reading comprehension. I find it stupid that the single test parameter that got me recruited for TAG (talented and gifted students) and advanced course placements is now my downfall in standardized testing. <takes a minute to giggle with disturbing hysteria>

The disappointment in this activity is that I can't see straight, so not only am I trying to focus on content/context... but on reading the words themselves. It is deliciously pleasing, however, that I'm managing to do just as well if not better whilst high than I do when healthy. I think a great deal of this success should actually be attributed to my newfound ability to hold testing tips in my mind while "assisted".

For instance, my reading comprehension tricks are to mine the first third of the passage for main idea and purpose, then answer the first questions which usually pertain to what the author would say about such and such and what is the purpose of this passage? I then return to the passage when the questions become detailed. I paraphrase each following paragraph keeping track of target words. From there, I can detect the fishy answers in the remaining questions by the way they fit into the main ideas and paraphrases, and easily identify the correct answers based on how they relate to the target words or paraphrased paragraphs. Granted, I have not used these tricks yet while sober, but it is comforting to know that they improve my malaise performance.

18d to the GRE

Tuesday morning: Boost, 6mp, levisin, peppermint pill, probiotic.
Tuesday afternoon: Boost, ginger pill, levisin.
Tuesday evening: baked potato, peppermint pill, minus a cup of blood.

Symptoms: nausea (the kind that you get high in the stomach when you vomit nothing but bile for hours on end), fatigue, pain (stomach and intestinal), diahrrea, blurred vision, and an insane craving for Chinese food.

Well, I haven't studied for two days and I'm feeling anxious. But not enough to try to study between running to the restroom every ten minutes. I think I'm still on the right track, though. It can be done. I keep having to remind myself that the reason my scores aren't improving on the practice tests is because I'm not focusing and my attitude is, "I'll do better when I'm more alert"... as if magically I'm going to be more alert and less nauseas 18 days from now.

I plan on taking the practice exams in sections from now on (still timed) instead of all together. This should help the maintain focus. Should. I have no interest in masking this - it's fucking hard. The material is simple, but the task of focusing and blocking out the pain and the malaise and exhaustion is... well, exhausting. Honestly, my motivation to do well at this point is so that once it's overwith I can meet with my prospective mentors in California the following week with pride and purpose.

I'm finding the confabulatory prognostication of failure and defeat to be more harmful than helpful, as usual. Therefore, my goal for the next three weeks is to concentrate on what I'm doing now, and agree with myself that if I study assiduously, the outcome of the test will be indicative of that. Baring in mind that I am not a genius, and, in fact, have other qualities that trump that quality, I can be content with an above-average score... which is usually where I fall academically.

Speaking of research experience (which is my second most attractive scientific asset), I'm actually writing this at work. Truth be told, when my boss is out of town and my coworkers don't even see fit to come in, I have no quams about sitting here writing for the bulk of my time. I feel no obligation to perform above and beyond when my boss is not here. So I'll write, I'll get the critical parts of protocol done, I'll read some journal articles, I'll run to the restroom about twelve times, then I'll catch a bus home and hopefully be able to study a bit during the ride... and not have to get off the bus and waddle to the nearest public restroom and finally find one only seconds before... you get the idea.

This is a bit how my internal pep-rally goes:

I am not an academic prodigy, but... I have intelligent creativity, tremendous work ethic, astronomical ambition, indestructible curiosity, a history of begetting and carrying-out great things, and a unique ability to write and communicate that almost zero scientists that I have met can challenge.