The moment we die, we surrender the shell that is used to carry our mind and soul to the ravages of decomposition. The body's own enzymes immediately begin to digest surrounding tissues and bacteria in the gut and skin and begin the process of purification.

According to Wikipedia, an unembalmed adult body buried six feet deep in ordinary soil without a coffin, in a temperate climate normally takes ten to twelve years to fully decompose. A dead body immersed in water skeletonizes four times faster, eight times faster when the brain and soul transportation vessel is exposed to air.

A Wikipedia search reveals that the average human body, consisting of about 100,000,000,000,000 cells, has about ten times that number, 1,000,000,000,000,000 (one quadrillion) microorganisms in the gut. Bacteria make up most of the flora in the colon and 60% of the mass of feces.

When we die this army of bacteria quickly invades our bodies but when we are alive our gut is a battleground. The fortress of our body is on constant alert, fighting back these bacteria and rebuilding any part of our defense system that is compromised during the battle. Our intestine is lined with sticky mucosal cells. I like to think of these cells as the moat that fortifies our castle. Behind the moat lies several layers of epithelial cells, the wall around the castle, and hiding on the castle walls, inside the moat and scattered among the invading forces of bacterial is our Gut Associated Lymphoid Tissue (GULT). These GULT are the gorilla fighters of our fortress, giving up their lives for the better good of the whole. The harmful bacteria, like nomads hungry for land and power, have one goal, to get to the oxygen rich cells inside our bodies. Once the bad bacteria breach these protective barriers they are free to march throughout our bodies, via our blood and circulatory system, invading other organ defenses and fortresses along the way.

Last Saturday my fortress was invaded. The warning alarms of my body sounded in the form of pain. I didn’t panic, confidant that my troops would make short work of the rogue marauders. It wasn’t until Tuesday morning that I began to doubt the strength and stamina of my intestinal troops and my son drove me to Arrowhead Emergency Hospital where I was subjected to hours of BDSM type activities (I’ll spare you the details), all while dressed in nothing but a flimsy, backless, pink and blue nightie. Once everyone that worked in the ER had a good look at me, inside and out, I was admitted “for treatment and observation”. The war was on and the battle was named “Acute Diverticulitis”. The efforts of my hard working but fatigued intestinal troops were augmented by antibiotics, the mustard gas of bacterial infections. The warning alarms had been quieted by morphine, and I was placed on a liquid diet. Breakfast, lunch and dinner consisted of ONLY beef broth, Jello, water and decaffeinated tea. Each time my meal arrived, I thought of former POW Senator John McCain, sitting in a cell at the Hanoi Hilton in Viet Nam.

Today, nearly a week after the invasion began, I live to tell the story. The pain alarms are quiet and the battleground has been cleared of debris and dead soldiers. In the coming months more BDSM type activity will occur as professionals in medical practice thoroughly inspect the battleground and sweep for hidden land mines. The attempt on my life was narrowly avoided and the processes associated with mortification and purification, reserved for the dead, appear to have been arrested.