It has been barely a month since the doctor diagnosed me as Type II Diabetic.
So what has changed? No nothing, no vows, no promises, no diet rules, no exercises, no nothing. Somehow, I just got well from bed after a three-day struggle with what I believed to be complications. But I don't want to start this page with the uneasy sureness I just declared - that what kicked me down was really a diabetes complication.
I had always been allergic to temperature changes, pressure, and discomfort. I had always known that to be inherent to me way back since last month when I took the FBS test (Fasting Blood Sugar they say) with a rocketing 400 blood sugar level. Huh, that's great, I'm diabetic, I thought for a while. It was raining that time, so I had to get the result from a clinic downtown with great effort as I have to cross an alley while getting wet at the same time. Does the weather know that I'd be shock with my results and its delaying my knowing of it? Funny.
I remembered, back in 1996, it was my first year of work. I just graduated college and I'm starting the independent life. The first quarter year of my work was great. But the next months started my self-coined "suffericious" days of living. And I wanted to note that in "days" as opposed to "months" because it had been too frequent. My allergic attacks started and almost every week I had to ask my Supervisor to allow me to go home as I wanted to lay down at home and rest. She'll look at me with perhaps pitiful eyes as she examines my Uticaria Hives growing all over my visible skin (and more inside). The she'll say "Go Home!". Hospitals won't cure me, I always believe it. Public Hospitals in our region here in the Philippines are not places for resting but I believe to be places to catch each one's contagious diseases. I just don't want to spend with better hospitals offering great venue but for a very expensive price. I was too bankrupt those days and I don't want to start earning debits on my first job. I'd go home struggling with my capricious vomiting though sometimes I could not hold it and I would ask the taxi driver to stop for a while as I'll pour my guts out along the hi-way. Sick! I don't wanna recall those days but I had to. Sorry if you're havin' snack there. And did I ever tell you that home is about 18 kms away from where I work? Really sick.
I almost lost my job the following year. I was an employee characterized for being always absent, unresponsive, losing direction, and always getting out of work schedules. I was always less-compensated as everytime I had to go home, they deduct it from my salary, though sometimes, my bosses would give me more as I plead with pity. Sorry guy was I.
My health remained staggered in the following years and it gave me a break when suddenly this seemingly ill bedfellow of mine left me with good healthy days in the year 2002. No more vomitings, no more allergies no more dry guts, no more heavy heads. Thank God this is what I call life. I'd bet anybody would be willing to give half a luck for this. If only that sickness won't comeback. Actually I went to the doctor a few years ago and what she diagnosed of me was allergy (though at first she thought it was fungal infestation). I read aloud my symptoms - my allergies first appear as spots, then grows into large oval-shaped ruby-colored swells, no fluids; my breath runs too fast my heart can't race with its beats; my head grows heavy and I can't focus, like I was drug-heavy or shall I say High; my eyes get bloodshot and my face and lips swell; my fingers numb; my eyes get blurry; and I can't carry my body's weight. That's it, that's how I felt. And the doctors just listed Telfast or Virlex on an Rx and give it to me saying, "Allergies. You have Allergies." My God, that's it?
Now I'm more stable with a new job and new place, though it's still 18 kms away from home. My sickness got less in magnitude. After coming back in my stressful years of being unemployed, it seems that I have finally understood my sickness to be stress-driven. Last Month, I was surprised to find that my urine seems too clear. I asked for advice from a friend and he drove me to a clinic to get my FBS test. Ok, nothing to lose. The next day, I took the result and was shocked of the result. My sugar level went 400. That's high, I thought nervously but I kept it with me. I had to overwhelm my stress. Maybe this is what I was bringing with me all along. Maybe I was really in complications of being insulin resistant. So I took the doctor's advise - loss weight, change diet and exercise, Or else die. He really never said the last line. I was just jumping into conclusions. And what about my stress? He gave me things to divert my overweary mind. Take the music therapy. Yeah, why not? So I went buying that Nomad Muvo USB MP3 player and I'd go work and go home listening to music by Kula-shaker and Little Wing by Stevie Ray Vaughan. What a sweet life this is. It could be my best relief. And I almost forgot about what the rest of the doctor's prescriptions were - loss weight, change diet and exercise. Or else die.
Three days ago, I fell down to bed again. A lesson in life I should learn. The last line went into my head as if a CD running continuously - orelsedieorelsedieorelsedie...
I don't wanna die, not this way. I have to loss weight, change diet and exercise. Yeah starting next week when I get up well again. This time I have to make up with my constant losses. Anyone got an advice I'd be happy to hear though. In the meantime, I'd stay well and look for brighter stars ahead. No promises, only gains.
So what has changed? No nothing, no vows, no promises, no diet rules, no exercises, no nothing. Somehow, I just got well from bed after a three-day struggle with what I believed to be complications. But I don't want to start this page with the uneasy sureness I just declared - that what kicked me down was really a diabetes complication.
I had always been allergic to temperature changes, pressure, and discomfort. I had always known that to be inherent to me way back since last month when I took the FBS test (Fasting Blood Sugar they say) with a rocketing 400 blood sugar level. Huh, that's great, I'm diabetic, I thought for a while. It was raining that time, so I had to get the result from a clinic downtown with great effort as I have to cross an alley while getting wet at the same time. Does the weather know that I'd be shock with my results and its delaying my knowing of it? Funny.
I remembered, back in 1996, it was my first year of work. I just graduated college and I'm starting the independent life. The first quarter year of my work was great. But the next months started my self-coined "suffericious" days of living. And I wanted to note that in "days" as opposed to "months" because it had been too frequent. My allergic attacks started and almost every week I had to ask my Supervisor to allow me to go home as I wanted to lay down at home and rest. She'll look at me with perhaps pitiful eyes as she examines my Uticaria Hives growing all over my visible skin (and more inside). The she'll say "Go Home!". Hospitals won't cure me, I always believe it. Public Hospitals in our region here in the Philippines are not places for resting but I believe to be places to catch each one's contagious diseases. I just don't want to spend with better hospitals offering great venue but for a very expensive price. I was too bankrupt those days and I don't want to start earning debits on my first job. I'd go home struggling with my capricious vomiting though sometimes I could not hold it and I would ask the taxi driver to stop for a while as I'll pour my guts out along the hi-way. Sick! I don't wanna recall those days but I had to. Sorry if you're havin' snack there. And did I ever tell you that home is about 18 kms away from where I work? Really sick.
I almost lost my job the following year. I was an employee characterized for being always absent, unresponsive, losing direction, and always getting out of work schedules. I was always less-compensated as everytime I had to go home, they deduct it from my salary, though sometimes, my bosses would give me more as I plead with pity. Sorry guy was I.
My health remained staggered in the following years and it gave me a break when suddenly this seemingly ill bedfellow of mine left me with good healthy days in the year 2002. No more vomitings, no more allergies no more dry guts, no more heavy heads. Thank God this is what I call life. I'd bet anybody would be willing to give half a luck for this. If only that sickness won't comeback. Actually I went to the doctor a few years ago and what she diagnosed of me was allergy (though at first she thought it was fungal infestation). I read aloud my symptoms - my allergies first appear as spots, then grows into large oval-shaped ruby-colored swells, no fluids; my breath runs too fast my heart can't race with its beats; my head grows heavy and I can't focus, like I was drug-heavy or shall I say High; my eyes get bloodshot and my face and lips swell; my fingers numb; my eyes get blurry; and I can't carry my body's weight. That's it, that's how I felt. And the doctors just listed Telfast or Virlex on an Rx and give it to me saying, "Allergies. You have Allergies." My God, that's it?
Now I'm more stable with a new job and new place, though it's still 18 kms away from home. My sickness got less in magnitude. After coming back in my stressful years of being unemployed, it seems that I have finally understood my sickness to be stress-driven. Last Month, I was surprised to find that my urine seems too clear. I asked for advice from a friend and he drove me to a clinic to get my FBS test. Ok, nothing to lose. The next day, I took the result and was shocked of the result. My sugar level went 400. That's high, I thought nervously but I kept it with me. I had to overwhelm my stress. Maybe this is what I was bringing with me all along. Maybe I was really in complications of being insulin resistant. So I took the doctor's advise - loss weight, change diet and exercise, Or else die. He really never said the last line. I was just jumping into conclusions. And what about my stress? He gave me things to divert my overweary mind. Take the music therapy. Yeah, why not? So I went buying that Nomad Muvo USB MP3 player and I'd go work and go home listening to music by Kula-shaker and Little Wing by Stevie Ray Vaughan. What a sweet life this is. It could be my best relief. And I almost forgot about what the rest of the doctor's prescriptions were - loss weight, change diet and exercise. Or else die.
Three days ago, I fell down to bed again. A lesson in life I should learn. The last line went into my head as if a CD running continuously - orelsedieorelsedieorelsedie...
I don't wanna die, not this way. I have to loss weight, change diet and exercise. Yeah starting next week when I get up well again. This time I have to make up with my constant losses. Anyone got an advice I'd be happy to hear though. In the meantime, I'd stay well and look for brighter stars ahead. No promises, only gains.
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