I’ve run over 5,000 experiments on my own body.
That’s not hyperbole. That’s actual data. Every meal is an experiment. Every Creon adjustment is an experiment. Every vitamin change is an experiment.
For 14 years, I’ve treated my body like a laboratory. Hypothesis. Test. Observation. Conclusion. Adjust. Repeat.
Because when you have half a digestive system, nothing works automatically. You can’t just eat and assume your body will handle it. You have to test. Track. Optimize.
I’ve become my own research subject. My own scientist. My own data analyst.
Some people think this sounds exhausting. It is. But it’s also the only way I’ve stayed alive and functional for 14 years post-Whipple.
Welcome to life as a walking science experiment.
Experiment #1: How Much Creon Do I Actually Need?
The hospital said two pills per meal. That was their hypothesis.
I tested it. Took two pills with scrambled eggs. Observed the results. Bloating. Undigested food. Failure.
New hypothesis: Three pills per meal.
Tested again. Still bloating. Still failing.
Four pills. Five pills. Six pills.
Finally, at six pills with scrambled eggs, my body digested the food properly. No bloating. No symptoms. Success.
Experiment concluded: I need six Creon pills for scrambled eggs with butter. Not two. Not three. Six.
That was experiment number one. I’ve run thousands more since then.
The Scientific Method, Applied Daily
Every meal follows the same process:
Hypothesis: This food at this portion size with this many Creon pills will digest properly.
Test: Eat the food. Take the pills. Wait.
Observation: How does my body respond? Bloating? Cramping? Nausea? Normal digestion?
Conclusion: Did the hypothesis hold? If yes, add to safe list. If no, adjust and retest.
Iteration: Try again with modifications until I find the optimal combination.
This is science. Real science. Applied to my own body. Every single day.
Variables I Track
Every experiment has variables. Things that change. Things that affect the outcome.
Here are the variables I track for every meal:
Food type – protein, carbs, fat content Portion size – small, medium, large Preparation method – grilled, baked, fried, raw Creon dosage – number of pills taken Timing – time of day, time since last meal Stress level – high stress affects digestion Hydration – water intake before and during meal Sleep quality – poor sleep affects digestive function Exercise – physical activity level that day Other medications – anything else I’m taking
Ten variables per experiment. Sometimes more.
That’s why I track everything in spreadsheets. Because you can’t identify patterns without data.
Failed Experiments
Most of my experiments fail the first time. That’s normal. That’s how science works.
Failed experiment: Raw broccoli with 6 Creon pills. Result: Massive bloating, undigested vegetable matter in stool. Conclusion: My body cannot process raw broccoli regardless of enzyme dosing.
Failed experiment: Ribeye steak with 10 Creon pills. Result: Severe cramping, nausea, food sitting in stomach for hours. Conclusion: High-fat cuts of meat exceed my digestive capacity even with maximum enzymes.
Failed experiment: Running 3 miles on an empty stomach. Result: Complete energy crash, needed to sit down halfway through. Conclusion: Exercise requires pre-fueling. Body cannot access stored energy efficiently.
Failures teach you more than successes. Failures tell you the boundaries. The limits. What your body absolutely cannot do.
Successful Experiments
Some experiments work perfectly on the first try. Those become permanent parts of my protocol.
Successful experiment: Scrambled eggs with 6 Creon pills. Result: Perfect digestion, no symptoms, good energy. Conclusion: This is a safe meal. Repeat indefinitely.
Successful experiment: Taking magnesium before bed. Result: Better sleep, fewer muscle cramps, improved recovery. Conclusion: Add to nightly routine permanently.
Successful experiment: Eating small meals every 3 hours instead of large meals. Result: Better digestion, more stable energy, less bloating. Conclusion: Change meal timing permanently.
When an experiment succeeds, it becomes a system. A repeatable protocol. Something I can rely on.
The Control Group Problem
In real science, you have a control group. A baseline to compare against.
I don’t have that. I can’t compare my half-functioning digestive system to a normal digestive system because I don’t have access to a normal digestive system anymore.
So I have to use my past self as the control. What worked before surgery? What doesn’t work now? What’s different?
It’s not a perfect control. But it’s the best I have.
Long-Term Studies
Some experiments take years to show results. These are the long-term studies.
Long-term study: What happens if I take vitamin D consistently for five years? Result: Vitamin D levels stabilized. Bone density improved. Immune function stronger. Conclusion: Long-term vitamin D supplementation is essential.
Long-term study: What happens if I avoid all fried foods for a decade? Result: Digestion improved dramatically. Fewer emergency bathroom trips. More stable weight. Conclusion: Fried foods are permanently off the menu.
Long-term study: What happens if I exercise consistently for three years? Result: Energy improved. Sleep improved. Digestion improved. Overall health dramatically better. Conclusion: Regular exercise is non-negotiable for optimal health.
These studies require patience. You can’t rush long-term results. You just have to keep tracking and wait for the patterns to emerge.
The Replication Crisis
In science, other researchers try to replicate your results. To verify they’re real. Not flukes.
I replicate my own experiments constantly. If scrambled eggs with 6 Creon works once, does it work every time? Or was that a coincidence?
I’ve eaten scrambled eggs with 6 Creon hundreds of times over 14 years. Same result every time. Perfect digestion.
That’s replication. That’s proof the protocol works consistently.
If something only works once, it’s not reliable. If something works 100 times in a row, you can trust it.
Confounding Variables
Sometimes experiments fail and you don’t know why. There’s a confounding variable you didn’t account for.
Experiment: Grilled chicken with rice, 8 Creon pills. Expected result: Normal digestion. Actual result: Cramping and bloating.
Why? What went wrong?
After investigation, I realized I’d eaten at a restaurant. They’d cooked the chicken in butter. Extra fat I didn’t account for. Needed more Creon.
The confounding variable was hidden fat. Once I identified it, I could adjust.
This happens constantly. Something goes wrong. You investigate. You find the hidden variable. You adjust.
Peer Review (Sort Of)
Real science involves peer review. Other scientists check your work. Make sure it’s valid.
I don’t have formal peer review. But I have something similar. Other Whipple patients.
I share my experiments online. Other patients try them. Report their results. Sometimes my protocols work for them. Sometimes they don’t.
That’s useful data. If my scrambled egg protocol works for ten other Whipple patients, it’s probably sound. If it only works for me, it might be specific to my physiology.
Community feedback is my version of peer review.
The Ethics of Self-Experimentation
Normally, human experimentation requires ethical oversight. Institutional review boards. Informed consent. Safety protocols.
I’m experimenting on myself. I’m the researcher and the subject. I give myself consent. I accept the risks.
Is that ethical? I think so. It’s my body. My choice. My health.
But I’m careful. I don’t do anything dangerous. I don’t test extreme interventions. I make incremental changes and observe the results.
Slow, methodical experimentation. Not reckless self-harm.
What the Data Reveals
After 14 years of experiments, the data reveals clear patterns:
My optimal Creon dosing is 4-10 pills per meal depending on fat content.
I function best eating 5-6 small meals per day instead of 3 large meals.
Raw vegetables are impossible for me to digest. Cooked vegetables work fine.
High-dose vitamin supplementation prevents hospitalizations. This is consistent across years of data.
Exercise improves everything. Energy, digestion, sleep, mood. All of it.
Stress directly impacts digestion. High-stress weeks require 20% more Creon.
Sleep quality affects absorption. Poor sleep means worse digestion the next day.
These aren’t theories. These are facts. Backed by thousands of data points collected over 14 years.
Living in the Lab
Most people eat without thinking. They wake up. They’re hungry. They eat. Their body handles it.
I can’t do that. Every meal requires planning. Calculation. Observation. Adjustment.
It’s exhausting. Some days I resent it. I just want to eat like a normal person without turning every meal into a science experiment.
But this is my reality. My body doesn’t work automatically. I have to manually optimize everything.
So I do. Every day. Every meal. Every vitamin. Every variable tracked and analyzed.
Because the alternative is constant health problems. Hospital visits. Crisis management. Feeling terrible.
I’d rather run experiments and feel good than ignore the science and feel like garbage.
The Experiment Never Ends
I’ll be running experiments for the rest of my life. My body will keep changing. Aging. Adapting. And I’ll need to keep adjusting my protocols.
What works at 44 might not work at 54. What works in summer might not work in winter. What works under low stress might not work under high stress.
So I keep testing. Keep tracking. Keep analyzing.
The experiment never ends. The data keeps accumulating. The optimization continues.
What This Means for You
If you’re post-Whipple, you need to adopt an experimental mindset.
Your body is unique. What works for me might not work for you. You have to run your own experiments. Collect your own data. Find your own optimal protocols.
Stop guessing. Start testing. Track everything. Look for patterns. Adjust based on results.
Treat every meal as an experiment. Treat every symptom as data. Treat your body as a laboratory.
It’s more work than just living. But it’s the only way to optimize health when your body doesn’t function normally.
Become your own scientist. Run your own studies. Trust your own data.
The Lab Coat I Never Wear
I don’t wear a lab coat. I don’t work in a laboratory. I just live my life.
But mentally, I’m always in the lab. Always observing. Always collecting data. Always analyzing results.
My body is the experiment. I’m the researcher. The spreadsheets are my lab notebooks. The meals are my trials.
Five thousand experiments over 14 years. And I’m not stopping anytime soon.
Because this is what it takes to thrive after a Whipple. Not just survive. Thrive.
Science. Data. Optimization. Repeated endlessly until you figure out what works.
Welcome to the lab. Population: me.
And maybe you, if you’re willing to do the work.
When you’re ready to start your own optimization experiments, the Complete Whipple Survival Guide has tracking templates, experimental protocols, and data analysis guides.