My friend's daughter had an operation last Monday. The weekend prior to that, I received a SMS from my project manager asking for blood donors for my friend's daughter's operation. My manager was also asking help in forwarding the same request to the rest of my projectmates. The blood type needed was Type O.
I am Type O (or at least, that's what I remember in the few times I had to go through blood transfusions in my youth). But then that doesn't help much. I would have liked to have given little Ysa some help in the form of my own blood, but I knew I can't. I knew as soon as I declared that I have SLE, and had asthma when I was a kid, my offer would be refused by the hospital (even if my friend agreed that I was no risk to her daughter). I'm not scared of being extracted with blood. If someone were to collect all the blood taken out of me each time I went for blood chemistry, he would've filled up one blood bag, or two. But t would be one bag full of the blood of someone who was sickly since he was a kid and still has a condition now fueled by corticosteroids. And though I'm not that aware if being sickly can be transmitted via blood transfusion, I knew there's something wrong in pursuing the idea further. So, I just contented myself with texting my friend that my blood was no good as he knew I had SLE, so I was thinking my prayers would be enough help instead. He just texted me in the morning after to say thanks.
After that, I had this down sort of feeling. A combination of frustration, annoyance, sadness, irritation, and guilt. Here I was, Type O, but then my blood would be surely be refused because of my condition. And this is my close friend we're talking about, whom I would really like to have helped out. It's a painful feeling that aside from forwarding messages to friends looking for possible donors and asking them to pray for the little kid, there was nothing more I could be of service of, even if my blood type matched what was needed. It's a sinking feeling actually, because this realization applies also to anyone who would need my blood donation. It could, God-forbid, be one of my relatives. And by that time, I'll still be willing to give it, but no medical institution will take it without reservation. Then again, this is just another thing I would need to get used to.
10.24.2006
Is My Blood Safe To Donate?
My friend's daughter had an operation last Monday. The weekend prior to that, I received a SMS from my project manager asking for blood donors for my friend's daughter's operation. My manager was also asking help in forwarding the same request to the rest of my projectmates. The blood type needed was Type O.
I am Type O (or at least, that's what I remember in the few times I had to go through blood transfusions in my youth). But then that doesn't help much. I would have liked to have given little Ysa some help in the form of my own blood, but I knew I can't. I knew as soon as I declared that I have SLE, and had asthma when I was a kid, my offer would be refused by the hospital (even if my friend agreed that I was no risk to her daughter). I'm not scared of being extracted with blood. If someone were to collect all the blood taken out of me each time I went for blood chemistry, he would've filled up one blood bag, or two. But t would be one bag full of the blood of someone who was sickly since he was a kid and still has a condition now fueled by corticosteroids. And though I'm not that aware if being sickly can be transmitted via blood transfusion, I knew there's something wrong in pursuing the idea further. So, I just contented myself with texting my friend that my blood was no good as he knew I had SLE, so I was thinking my prayers would be enough help instead. He just texted me in the morning after to say thanks.
After that, I had this down sort of feeling. A combination of frustration, annoyance, sadness, irritation, and guilt. Here I was, Type O, but then my blood would be surely be refused because of my condition. And this is my close friend we're talking about, whom I would really like to have helped out. It's a painful feeling that aside from forwarding messages to friends looking for possible donors and asking them to pray for the little kid, there was nothing more I could be of service of, even if my blood type matched what was needed. It's a sinking feeling actually, because this realization applies also to anyone who would need my blood donation. It could, God-forbid, be one of my relatives. And by that time, I'll still be willing to give it, but no medical institution will take it without reservation. Then again, this is just another thing I would need to get used to.
I am Type O (or at least, that's what I remember in the few times I had to go through blood transfusions in my youth). But then that doesn't help much. I would have liked to have given little Ysa some help in the form of my own blood, but I knew I can't. I knew as soon as I declared that I have SLE, and had asthma when I was a kid, my offer would be refused by the hospital (even if my friend agreed that I was no risk to her daughter). I'm not scared of being extracted with blood. If someone were to collect all the blood taken out of me each time I went for blood chemistry, he would've filled up one blood bag, or two. But t would be one bag full of the blood of someone who was sickly since he was a kid and still has a condition now fueled by corticosteroids. And though I'm not that aware if being sickly can be transmitted via blood transfusion, I knew there's something wrong in pursuing the idea further. So, I just contented myself with texting my friend that my blood was no good as he knew I had SLE, so I was thinking my prayers would be enough help instead. He just texted me in the morning after to say thanks.
After that, I had this down sort of feeling. A combination of frustration, annoyance, sadness, irritation, and guilt. Here I was, Type O, but then my blood would be surely be refused because of my condition. And this is my close friend we're talking about, whom I would really like to have helped out. It's a painful feeling that aside from forwarding messages to friends looking for possible donors and asking them to pray for the little kid, there was nothing more I could be of service of, even if my blood type matched what was needed. It's a sinking feeling actually, because this realization applies also to anyone who would need my blood donation. It could, God-forbid, be one of my relatives. And by that time, I'll still be willing to give it, but no medical institution will take it without reservation. Then again, this is just another thing I would need to get used to.
10.14.2006
Lab Tests?
It's All Second-Nature To Me Now
If I got a peso for every laboratory test that I took since I was diagnosed to have SLE, I would have enough to buy my favorite mocha frapucchino at Starbucks, venti-size, for a week. During the early periods, when check-ups were frequent, I was just stuck at home siphoning the family money on medicine and treatment, it used to be a bother to me to go to hospitals and get my lab results. And I need to have lab results with me everytime I go to my doctor. Otherwise, it'll be just a wasted visit. There are some laboratory tests requested like thyroid profiles, and C-reactive protein, and x-rays over the years but always 3 tests have become a sort of "staple" for me everytime: complete blood count (CBC), urinalysis, and edema sedimentation rate (ESR). It used to be a pain getting these tests done -- the waiting, the cost, and later one the time away from either school or work.
Now, it's like second-skin. I go to the triage, present the request, get billed, pay, go to the medical technician, get my blood extracted, then go to the bathroom and collect urine. Sometimes I have to stifle a smile when I come across a grown man, much much larger than me, who can't even look at the syringe when blood is being extracted from his arm.
Now, it's like second-skin. I go to the triage, present the request, get billed, pay, go to the medical technician, get my blood extracted, then go to the bathroom and collect urine. Sometimes I have to stifle a smile when I come across a grown man, much much larger than me, who can't even look at the syringe when blood is being extracted from his arm.
8.25.2006
Thankful
I just turned 29. Who would've thought that that sick boy with that half-butterfly rash on his face and falling hair in that hospital bed last 1993 would make it this far? I sure didn't. Just when I think people wrote me off as some sickly kid who would burden his family indefinitely, I got back to school. I graduate with honors. I got into stable job(s). I got to go to the United States, Singapore, Thailand, and France. Who knew I'd go that far? I guess HE did.
Thank You, my Shepherd, for blessing me this much. I have walked in the valley of the shadow of death but then You annointed my head with oil, so my cup runneth over. I have doubted You so many times but You have been faithful all this time. May I live this life You gave me and use this third chance You gave me to live a life pleasing to You.
Hymn by Jars Of Clay
Oh refuge of my hardened heart
Oh fast pursuing lover come
As angels dance 'round Your throne
My life by captured fare You own
Not silhouette of trodden faith
Nor death shall not my steps be guide
I'll pirouette upon mine grave
For in Your path I'll run and hide
[Chorus:]
Oh gaze of love so melt my pride
That I may in Your house but kneel
And in my brokenness to cry
Spring worship unto Thee
When beauty breaks the spell of pain
The bludgeoned heart shall burst in vain
But not when love be pointed king
And truth shall Thee forever reign
[Chorus]
Sweet Jesus carry me away
From cold of night, and dust of day
In ragged hour or salt worn eye
Be my desire, my well sprung lye
[Chorus x 2]
Spring worship unto Thee
Spring worship unto Thee
Thank You, my Shepherd, for blessing me this much. I have walked in the valley of the shadow of death but then You annointed my head with oil, so my cup runneth over. I have doubted You so many times but You have been faithful all this time. May I live this life You gave me and use this third chance You gave me to live a life pleasing to You.
Hymn by Jars Of Clay
Oh refuge of my hardened heart
Oh fast pursuing lover come
As angels dance 'round Your throne
My life by captured fare You own
Not silhouette of trodden faith
Nor death shall not my steps be guide
I'll pirouette upon mine grave
For in Your path I'll run and hide
[Chorus:]
Oh gaze of love so melt my pride
That I may in Your house but kneel
And in my brokenness to cry
Spring worship unto Thee
When beauty breaks the spell of pain
The bludgeoned heart shall burst in vain
But not when love be pointed king
And truth shall Thee forever reign
[Chorus]
Sweet Jesus carry me away
From cold of night, and dust of day
In ragged hour or salt worn eye
Be my desire, my well sprung lye
[Chorus x 2]
Spring worship unto Thee
Spring worship unto Thee
6.18.2006
C Reactive Protein
When I was having my laboratory examinations done at Medical City a few weeks ago, I was surprised to see another item in the lab request. My doctor apparently added another extra item to my usual lab tests. I don't usually pay attention to what is written there, because after so many years, I got used to the fact that it usually contains the usual things: Urinalysis, Complete Blood Count (CBC), and Edema Sedimentation Rate (ESR). Now, there's a new line there, a more expensive line. It was "CRP". At first I thought it had something to do with the heart ( a Cardiac something exam ). It was expensive, more pricey than the other tests for me at about one thousand four hundred pesos. When the results came out, I already got the name of the expensive test: C - Reactive Protein. When I had my monthly check-up, I asked my doctor what the test is all about.
She said it's a measure of system inflammation. Hm. I thought that ESR was the measure of inflammation (by the way, all my labs are normal). She said that ESR goes beyond normal when inflammation like rheumatism occurs. CRP, on the other hand, becomes abnormal when the inflammation is due to infection. So it is possible that my ESR could be normal but my CRP isn't. But then again, as my doctor said, there's more analysis to be done than just looking if it's beyond the normal levels. Problem is, my doctor requested it again for my next check-up. Looks like its another two grand plus plus for lab results next month. *Sigh*.
She said it's a measure of system inflammation. Hm. I thought that ESR was the measure of inflammation (by the way, all my labs are normal). She said that ESR goes beyond normal when inflammation like rheumatism occurs. CRP, on the other hand, becomes abnormal when the inflammation is due to infection. So it is possible that my ESR could be normal but my CRP isn't. But then again, as my doctor said, there's more analysis to be done than just looking if it's beyond the normal levels. Problem is, my doctor requested it again for my next check-up. Looks like its another two grand plus plus for lab results next month. *Sigh*.
4.21.2006
Stop The Oil, My Doctor Says
My blood test results came back and I just got back from my doctor. My Triglyceride indicators are higher than the normal standards. My doctor says this is just a function of the diet. She's recommending that I eat more inihaw and nilaga. Hm. Life without delicious oily foods. Sounds bland.
4.16.2006
Losing It ( My Appetite, That Is )
I think I'm having eating problems. For the past few weeks, my appetite's been off. I've been eating little. I'm not really the hearty eater. And I really am a picky eater since I was a kid. But lately, I've noticed that I'm eating less than usual. My appetite isn't that good nowadays. It's like I either feel like I'm full or I don't have the desire to eat.
On workdays, I really don't eat exactly at twelve noon. I usually wait for the crowd at the microwave oven to thin out before re-heating my packed meal. But even then, I just eat because it's time to eat lunch and I want to get it over with. Not that much gusto there. And I usualy have leftovers, even rice.
The only time I felt so hungry and ate "voraciously" was last week. I just finished working on a production issue ( it was already past one ) and I felt famished. I didn't have packed lunch then so that meant it was a choice between KFC and Chowking. I finished a merienda-sized fish tausi and beef siomai for lunch. I think on that same day going home, I had the urge and bought a Spanish sausage bunwich while waiting in line at the shuttle terminal.
During weekends, when I usualy wake up late, I miss meals. Well, not really miss them, but I don't eat on time. I have a slow breakfast at about nine, and lately it's just been on sandwiches or some non-rice dish like pansit bihon because my mother noticed I don't have the liking for rice and viand lately. This leads me to to have lunch at around two and that's if I do have the appetite for it. Sometimes I opt out and have merienda later.
The craving for any kind of dish isnt' there anymore. When out in malls, I get enticed by pictures in menus and posters but that's just about it. If I do order something, be it because of visual stimuli or just because I have to eat based on the time, I don't usually finish it at all. There're usually leftovers which would have been good if I had a doggie bag with me and if I still had dogs. The one that gets me by on weekends are ice cream sandwiches. Yup. Ice cream on monay bread or pan de sal. I usually finishe two to three of those. That, plus fruits.
I wouldn't have made this a big deal by blogging about it, but I noticed that I really am not eating well. Well, that, plus I think I'm getting thin. Correction, thinner. That would be good news to someone who's not as slim as I am. I'm already a toothpick as it is. To get any thinner would make me a matchstick man made flesh, er, made bone and skin to be exact. But then again, with my appetite not cooperating in making me eat more . . . .
I wonder if enrolling in gym classes could help? Hm.
On workdays, I really don't eat exactly at twelve noon. I usually wait for the crowd at the microwave oven to thin out before re-heating my packed meal. But even then, I just eat because it's time to eat lunch and I want to get it over with. Not that much gusto there. And I usualy have leftovers, even rice.
The only time I felt so hungry and ate "voraciously" was last week. I just finished working on a production issue ( it was already past one ) and I felt famished. I didn't have packed lunch then so that meant it was a choice between KFC and Chowking. I finished a merienda-sized fish tausi and beef siomai for lunch. I think on that same day going home, I had the urge and bought a Spanish sausage bunwich while waiting in line at the shuttle terminal.
During weekends, when I usualy wake up late, I miss meals. Well, not really miss them, but I don't eat on time. I have a slow breakfast at about nine, and lately it's just been on sandwiches or some non-rice dish like pansit bihon because my mother noticed I don't have the liking for rice and viand lately. This leads me to to have lunch at around two and that's if I do have the appetite for it. Sometimes I opt out and have merienda later.
The craving for any kind of dish isnt' there anymore. When out in malls, I get enticed by pictures in menus and posters but that's just about it. If I do order something, be it because of visual stimuli or just because I have to eat based on the time, I don't usually finish it at all. There're usually leftovers which would have been good if I had a doggie bag with me and if I still had dogs. The one that gets me by on weekends are ice cream sandwiches. Yup. Ice cream on monay bread or pan de sal. I usually finishe two to three of those. That, plus fruits.
I wouldn't have made this a big deal by blogging about it, but I noticed that I really am not eating well. Well, that, plus I think I'm getting thin. Correction, thinner. That would be good news to someone who's not as slim as I am. I'm already a toothpick as it is. To get any thinner would make me a matchstick man made flesh, er, made bone and skin to be exact. But then again, with my appetite not cooperating in making me eat more . . . .
I wonder if enrolling in gym classes could help? Hm.
3.25.2006
A Visit To The Eye Doctor
After 4 years, I went back to the nearby Optometrist in town to have my eyes checked. I actually have been just wanting to change the frame of my glasses. There, I was told that my astigmatism shooted up, which was not normal. The optometrist said that astigmatism usually declines as the years pass. Then again, this is me we're talking about. I've given up on being "normal". Thus, my left eye now has a 200 astigmatism while my right eye has 150. All in all, both my eyes are over 300 in grade. The good thing about it is, I think I found a good pair of frames that will make me look like I'm not wearing glasses ( from afar of course ). And the optometrist recommended that for those kinds of frames I use Airwear lenses: 43% lighter than normal plastic lenses, 10 times stronger though, and made from material used for space helmets and aircraft windshields. It also cuts 100% UV and absorbs 100% of UVA and UVB radiation from sunlight. Hell. At least that's what the brochure says. All this for a whooping X,XXX pesos. I should be getting my new eyes next weekend. Oh well. Thank God for medical reimbursement benefits.
3.03.2006
Getting Too Old For This
I just saw my doctor this morning, CBC and Urinalysis lab results at hand. She wasn't really happy. That meant I left her clinic with prescriptions similar to what she gave me last time. That meant no decrease in dosage for Prednisone and Azathiophrine for me. There were no decreases, only additions. Now, aside from the usual requests for CBC and Urinalysis, I have to take tests like Cholesterol, Triglyceride, LDL, HDL, and, what's this written on the prescription, ACT? She told me for these tests I have to fast for 10 hours before the (blood) extraction. *sigh*. Her reason? "You're not exactly 21 anymore so you should be checking on these things also. Then when I complained about my head hurting on my eyes, she recommended I do treadmills in the gym. Imagine me, doing treadmills. That would be a sight to see. She said she's thinking that my head hurts because I have so many things on my mind ( how she knew that, I don't know. She must have a spy on me in the office ) so I need to release it via running or moving. Oh well. We'll see. I'll do anything to keep out of the hospital.
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