DOCTOR POTATO

Saturday, August 06, 2005

FEAR FACTOR FOOD PART UNE

Think you can eat anything?

Think you've tried the most exotic food, from lamb brains to grasshopper legs?

Why don't you try the ultimate food trip...

Filipino Street Food

Tukneneng - boiled quail egg covered with orange-dyed batter and deep-fried. (Actually, I eat this. It's rather good, if simple. But you shouldn't eat too many, because that small yolk is still stuffed with cholesterol.)
Kwek Kwek - same as tukneneng, but this time it's duck egg dipped in spiced vinegar.
Day Old - deep-fried one-day old chick. (I think the sight of all those tiny deep-fried bodies is pathetic. I used to buy chicks for pets, at least before my dogs started eating them. Gross.)
Chicharong Balat - crispy-fried chicken skin (Just imagine the cholesterol and caloric content of this snack, knowing that skin is 100% fat. But hey...when I'm at KFC, I can't help eating every last crumb either.)
Chicharon - dried cow or carabao hide, boiled and deep-fried to a crisp (This is a sadly popular snack. My parents love this, so I snatch it away from them after they've eaten 1-2 pieces because they shouldn't be eating such unhealthy things at their age and cholesterol level. They're both from the health profession, mind you.)
Balut - boiled unhatched duck's embryo, sprinkled with a little salt/vinegar and eaten whole. Including the chick. (I think this was actually included in a Fear Factor Episode. I don't know what the fuss is all about. But my boyfriend doesn't eat the chick either, so I eat his for him. Weird. Baliktad na ang mundo.)
Penoy - unfertilized duck's egg, boiled (Tame.)
Goto - congee or rice porridge mixed with boiled tripe (The porridge, I like. The tripe, I detest. What is tripe anyway? Wait...I don't think I want to know.)
Isaw - marinated and grilled chicken intestines (I don't get this. Imagine, those intestines once contained that chicken's feces. I mean, how can you properly wash such teeny-tiny tubes? Who knows what residual bacteria might still be lurking in there! Hmm...refer to the part deux of this entry tomorrow!)
Adidas - chicken feet (Okay, not too hard to understand. Adidas is also included in Chinese dimsum, but that doesn't mean I eat them.)
Walkman - pig's ears (Okay. The street name at least is cute.)
IUD - chicken intestines (Yuck. How did this thing get that name? I really hope there's no connection whatsoever. I'd be glad if anyone could enlighten me about this.)
Betamax - cubed curdled pig's blood (You can eat this if you're feeling particularly vampiric. You can also eat Dinuguan, another favorite here, which is known otherwise as blood stew. I love Dinuguan. Yum.)
Baticolon - chicken gizzard
Atay - chicken liver (Tame. Found everywhere, especially in pancit (noodles).)

PASS BY AGAIN TOMORROW FOR PART DEUX!! BUT IT WON'T BE AS FUNNY AS YOU THINK...

By the way, if you want to brighten your day, visit my site Forward Fantasies. I'm sure my latest post has been emailed to you before, but it's so cute you won't mind reading it again ;)

renzguerra liberated at 08:25 am
Prescriptions (3) The bill

Friday, August 05, 2005

CONGRATULATIONS ARE IN ORDER

Okay. If you're not planning to read the admittedly LONG entry below, then I'll encapsulate it for you. It's about:

My nightmare
The fact that my brother, who is is a 3rd-year medical student in a prestigious university, is the tenth in his batch of 300 with a current grade satisfying the requirement for Magna Cum Laude
My request that you congratulate him so that he'll stop feeling so disappointed! Hehe, I'm doing everything to cheer him up.

Thanks! That's all. ;)

   I had a nightmare just before I woke up this morning. It felt so real that I woke myself up trying to take action.

   I was half-asleep and the door was locked. Somehow, I could hear my brother anyway. He was standing outside my room, asking plaintively for a pair of scissors. That sounds funny now, but it didn't then. I don't know what he wanted the scissors for, but he sounded terrified and pitiful, as if his life depended on it. The horrible thing was, I couldn't move. Have you ever fallen asleep and had a dream in which you had fallen asleep and was dreaming?
   Anyway, I couldn't move, but I panicked so much that I eventually wrenched myself awake all at once, with the intention of running to the door. I was halfway to my feet by the time I realized--to my great relief--that I was dreaming after all. I was so glad when I realized that my brother was perfectly ok.

   All this must make you think that my bro is just a cherub-cheeked little boy. He's not. He's 23 years old, and a third-year medical student at one of the most prestigious medical schools in the country. But he's one of the sweetest, kindest, funniest, most religious, most intelligent, most talented, most everything people I've ever known.

   I'm not biased because I'm his adoring and protective older sister. I both pity and envy the girl who finally hooks him. Pity, because Mom examines all his prospectives with a magnifying glass, and uses his attributes to judge them, which immediately neutralizes about 90% of the female population. Envy, because there aren't many other guys out there like him.

   I was thinking about what brought on that nightmare, and I realized what it was. Yesterday, he texted my mom that he was just tenth in his batch of 300. His grades are above that required for Magna cum laude. He was so disappointed, and he was afraid that my parents would be disappointed too.

   Weird, you say. Disappointed? Well, it's like this. Our late paternal grandfather was sixth in the Medical boards, and was one of the most successful GP's in the Visayan region. I mean, he stored money in boxes, or at least until he entered politics with that rock-hard integrity of his and lost most of his fortune to the opportunist masses. My dad was eleventh in the boards, second in the General Surgery boards, and first in the TCVS (heart surgery) boards. I was fifth in my graduating batch and fifth at the boards (Don't ask about what came after; I'm still testing the troubled waters of residency and trying not to get dragged down by lack of self-esteem).

   Hence, my bro must feel that he should get at least the fifth position in his batch too. He's not even done yet! He has half a year to go. He feels like he has the world on his shoulders, trying to live up to everyone's expectations. Believe me, I know exactly how that feels like.   I've been through that. I'm still going through that. It's not good. It can be downright depressing.

   There comes a certain point in which the exact ranking doesn't give a true picture anymore. Then, it depends on whether the professor who taught your class was good at lecturing, whether he gave good grades, and whether he gave fair tests. Of course the composition of the class matters, too. It won't help you if you studied yourself to death for a difficult exam while everyone else around you just cheated. It's not fair, but it happens (You know what my brother does? He doesn't give in. He just prays to St. Jude 6 times a day for help, and asks us to donate eggs to the St. Claire church for petitions. He's such an angel). It matters too whether you had access to the best references, the most patok sample exams, and the most dedicated transcribers of notes.

   There are just so many factors to consider. You can't standardize everything. As far as I'm concerned, my brother's doing better than anyone else before him in the family has ever done. I might have folded under all that pressure. But he's still soldiering on.

Thankfully, my parents and relatives, even our family friends, know this too. They've been sending my bro the warmest congratulations, hoping to cheer him up. I texted him last night, but he hasn't answered yet. I hope he realizes that I mean it. I'm so proud of him. He's my idol.

Hey, why don't you congratulate him too? You can comment/tag, and I'll pass the message along. If you want to tell him yourself, email him through here. I think it would mean a lot to him if he realized that people understand what he's going through, and that he has every right to be proud of himself. He's worked so hard for this, even to the detriment of his health. He barely eats or sleeps anymore, and we worry about him to death. It's only right that he should feel good, not disappointed.

renzguerra liberated at 10:04 am
Prescriptions (3) The bill

Thursday, August 04, 2005

DIRTY DOES IT

     I've recently learned something very interesting.

   It's not good to overprotect little children from dirt.

   Why, you ask? Because it might actually predispose them to getting asthma.

   If you want to read the technical version, click the link which leads to a page by the Cleveland Clinic,    Basically, what that gobbledygook says is that early in life, all people have white blood cells that have the capacity to differentiate either into infection-related white cells (TH1) or allergy-related white cells (TH2). When a child is exposed early in life to allergens--or in practical terms, allowed to get muddy in the backyard--his body tends to produce more TH1 cells than TH2, thus decreasing the chances that he'll become allergic to anything later on. Asthma is a form of allergy, so children who are brought up in excessively clean households are more prone to develop them. There are actually new studies that show this.

   Case in point: moi. I am the firstborn daughter to a doctor and a nurse who wanted several children, so they were understandably overenthusiastic when I arrived. That they overdid the hygiene thing is an understatement. They would only handle me after washing first with Lysol. Every surface I touched was first similarly treated.  They rushed me to the hospital at the slightest little cough.  My pediatrician must have thought they were nuts. The result? I have asthma until now, and am allergic to NSAIDs and related drugs. So though the "hygiene theory" is still just that--a theory, I'm already convinced.

   When I have kids of my own, I'm going to let them sleep with puppies. Well, okay, maybe not that far.

renzguerra liberated at 10:19 am
Prescriptions (2) The bill

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

THAT'S AB-SOLUTE BULL

Good day, people! Here are a few very relevant and helpful mythbusters for the figure-conscious which I got from the magazine Cosmopolitan. I thought of this post last night, because Tomato and I went to Fitness First gym for possibly the last time. We'll be transferring to the Pinnacle Gym by next week. Why? Well, first of all, Fitness First is rather expensive. And secondly, we had a big fight with the management! Want to know more about that? Well, read the following first, and see if you don't learn something new!

BULL: You can spot-reduce your stomach.
THE REAL DEAL: Ab exercises will strengthen and tone your muscles, but you need to incorporate cardio into your routine and change your diet if you want your steel tummy to show.

BULL: The greater the reps, the greater the rewards.
THE REAL DEAL: After 15-20 sit-ups, you begin pulling on the back of your head, whcih can cause neck strain, and using momentum instead of your abs. Focus on form over number of repetitions.

BULL: You need to workyour abs every day.
THE REAL DEAL: Like any muscle, abs need alternate days off to regenerate. Plus, you'll be less likely to burn out if you take a break.

   Didn't I tell you that you'd learn something new?

  Anway, I'd first like to greet everyone a good day. I'm so happy to see that quite a few of my friends--plus some honored guests--have dropped by. Hello to Shin-Shin who's in Canada, and Julia who's somewhere in the Philippines!  Doc Emer also tagged me. You should go see his top-ranked blog, Parallel Universes, if you want more serious insights into the world of Medicine in the Philippines.

  As you can see, I'm dressed quite casually, and am just spending the whole morning bloghopping and writing entries on my gazillion blogs. That cute poodle is the closest approximation that Yahoo avatars has of Zooty, our mixed mutt, whom we mated for the first time with a Japanese Spitz yesterday. The poor thing was whimpering and crying all day. I hope she gets better soon. And I hope she gets pregnant, too!

   I promised to tell you about what happened at Fitness First. Well, to put it simply, they charged us twice for the same two months. One thing I can say about that gym--they do everything in their power to make sure that they don't get stiffed. Well, in this case, it backfired on them. When I was terminating my contract, a lady at the counter--Carrie--told me that my mom's credit card had bounced, so we consequently owed them two month's gym fee. She even called my mom to tell her so, coz I wouldn't believe it. Mom philosophically wrote a check for almost 5k, a not insignificant sum.  Mistake number one.

   Imagine mom's surprise when her bill arrived and showed that the fee for those two months had been debited after all! She got so mad.  We brought up the matter with Carrie at once, who didn't seem sorry at all when she apologized for the oversight. She promised us that she'd attend to the matter before i left the gym, which at the time was only three weeks away.

   Well, two weeks passed, but nothing happened. Every time we followed up with Carrie, she only gave us a commiserating smile, and said that it was out of her hands. Mistake number two.

    Anyone who knows me personally also knows my mother. Losing all patience, she called Carrie up personally and bawled her out over my cellphone. Not content with that, she asked for the number of the main office at Makati. Poor Carrie, who understandably did not want any trouble, tried to talk mom out of getting the number, saying that she'd take care of the matter herself, but mom wouldn't give in. Finally, Mom did get a number, but it was a faxtone. Mistake number three. Strike out. Mom wrote a very irate and explosive letter and faxed it to the main office. The next day, she somehow got the real number and called Makati. By then, everyone there knew her or of her. The manager assured her that Carrie had been reprimanded, and that our complaint would finally be duly processed.

   Well, that finally ended things, except that we're still waiting for our refund. What happened to Carrie? Well, we don't see her around anymore. She may have been transferred, suspended, or even laid off altogether. One thing I know for sure: she's not going to forget me or my mom for a very long time.

renzguerra liberated at 11:35 am
Prescribe! The bill

TWENTY THINGS I LOVE ABOUT TOMATO

I've been mentioning the Tomato for a little while now. Unfortunately, I can't say his real name because he's a little paranoid. Anyway, this is just a little meme to show you why he rocks my world.

1. The way he looks at me with his limpid eyes and slowly flaps his long, thick eyelashes, knowing perfectly well that it makes him look irresistible.

2. The way he calls me when he's out somewhere driving, and belts along to that lovesong bellowing out of his car radio.

3. The way he pauses after each exercise, after each stretching session, and just before changing outside the locker room in the gym so he can hug me and kiss me on the forehead.

4. The way he calls me when he's on his way to my house to ask if he can buy me anything.

5. The way he lifts an arm up to my chin when he's driving, so I can nuzzle his hand with my cheek.

6. The way he buys me small but thoughtful things, like that poster of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

7. The way he buys DVD's and audio CD's and offers them to my dad, who is a a techno-freak.

8. The way he buys kakanin and traditional Filipino food and offers them to my mom, who loves such stuff.

9. The way he often calls home to make sure that his mom, niece, and nephew are all right.

10. The way he falls asleep on the sofa while watching DVD's with my family, because he has to wait until 11 in the evening so he can fetch his sister from work. And that's when he has classes the following day, and has to wake up at 5 a.m. at the latest.

renzguerra liberated at 11:34 am
Prescribe! The bill

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

THE ULTIMATE CURE FOR HICCUPS

   My dad reminded me of the quaint way mothers here stop their babies from having intractable hiccups.

   They stick a small piece of of wet cotton on the baby's forehead.

   I'm not kidding! And the astonishing thing is, my dad says that it actually works. Not because of some complex mechanical reaction, either. Just for the simple reason that the baby gets distracted, and it concentrates so much on its forehead that it forgets all about the hiccups.

   I have no idea if this is true. But it's as good an explanation as any.

   Hey, if you don't believe me, you could always try it ;)

   My avatar right now shows me wearing pink pajamas, and almost blending into an all-pink bedroom. My room doesn't look like that, but my old one did. All flowers and baby pink, as if a three year-old girl slept there.  The color made me feel like curling up in a fetal position and sucking my thumb. My new one's theme is mint-green; not because it's my favorite color, but because my dad didn't like the look of PURPLE. He tried it first, but had it repainted almost immediately over my protests. He said the room looked stuck in the season of Lent.

   Actually, what struck me about the pink background was its messiness. And that...I can relate with. Just ask my mother. She'd be glad to tell you how I leave everything in the state of calamity.

   Why am I wearing a scarf, do you ask? Because the aircon's too strong, dammit. But I can't do anything about it, because I'd rather be cold than hot. Whatever.

   It's only 11:30 in the evening, and I'm already sleepy.   Unusual for a night owl like me. I guess it's because of the prospect of having to study. Having submitted the requirements this afternoon, I've become irrevocably bound. Now, since reading my medical books is once more a chore and not something I actually want to do, I expect that I'll be procrastinating like crazy again. Like now.

renzguerra liberated at 09:23 pm
Prescription (1) The bill

MOMENT OF TRUTH

Well, it's the moment of truth.

Have to submit my requirements this afternoon, the damn S2 to follow.

Hoping that I'm making the right decision. I've wasted enough time casting about for which hospital to apply to. Well, at least a lot of my friends will be there. We can suffer and learn the ropes together. The more, the merrier.

By the way, good luck to all my friends who will be taking the Philippine Medicine Boards this August 21, especially Nishi, Miggs, HB, Jeff, Qrix, and all my other intern friends--I can't name you all! I miss you!! God be with you!

renzguerra liberated at 01:42 pm
Prescribe! The bill

Monday, August 01, 2005

AIRHEAD

   Okay, here's another urrrm...I can't think of another word for it, ridiculous medical myth which I came across while I was still a fourth-year clerk.

   Our wards had rotating ceiling fans for ventilation. Our patients couldn't choose which beds they'd end up in, so it was a toss-up whether the fans reached them or not.

   I had one patient, a 12-year old girl, who unfortunately got the brunt of the fan on her face. Afterwards, I noticed that she always had a towel wrapped around her head. When I finally asked her mother why, the mother replied, "Para hindi mapasukan ng lamig ang ulo niya. Baka kasi magka-headache siya."

   To all ye non-Filipinos, her premise was this.

   Cold air can enter your head and cause headaches.

   The other patients and their accompanying relatives nodded seriously, as if this was common knowledge. Instead of cracking up on the spot, I patiently told them that no such thing would happen. Of course, the mother didn't believe me. She kept her daughter's head wrapped up anyway. Just in case.

   Okay. I'm not going to try and find out where she got this idea. I'm not even going to elaborate on why it's not possible in the first place. I'm just going to say this once.

   Cold air cannot enter your head and cause headaches by doing so.

   Enough said.

renzguerra liberated at 09:25 am
Prescribe! The bill

HE OF THE ROCK-HARD PRINCIPLES

Okay, this post has nothing to do with medicine, so indulge me.

   I would just like to congratulate my Tomato, who was given the award of Reporter of the Year by the Volunteer Group Against Crime and Corruption. Of course, I'm prouder than proud. The awarding is supposed to be this week at the Malacanang palace itself. He keeps insisting that it's no biggie and not even prestigious, but I know better. I've already asked permission from my mom to let me attend. Think I'm going to spend some time tomorrow rummaging around my closet.

   Thinking of a nice gift to celebrate the occasion. What do you give a really cute reporter in a top newspaper who's more often than not on the front page (he had two articles there today, one of them was the headline), and who just received an award for uncompromising integrity?

   Hmmm, think hard, think fast.

renzguerra liberated at 09:03 am
Prescribe! The bill

DAMN BUREAUCRACIES

   Right now, I'm engrossed in gathering the requirements for my Internal Medicine residency application. It's a great big hassle, especially nowadays that we don't have a driver.  Our driver, as some of you might know, recently underwent a CABG (a coronary artery bypass graft), because he was on the verge of a heart attack. My dad did the operation, and nearly financed the whole thing, too. Anyway, he says that Mang Nelson has to rest for about six months after the operation. That's, like, two months away, which is precisely why I'm stuck in the house. My friends keep telling me that I have to learn how to drive so I won't have to depend on anyone, but it's not like i can drive either of our cars, which are both SUV's. My dad keeps telling me that I can drive the Trooper. Duh. I don't even want to know how much that would cost me if I so much as scratched it.  If I got a car to use as a practice vehicle, I'd prefer that it was small, second or third-hand, and cheap.

   Anyway, I'm still missing the S2 license, which would allow me to prescribe regulated drugs. I don't know why the heck I need it in the first place, except that it's listed in the requirements. As a first-year Internal Medicine resident, I don't expect to be prescribing such things for years yet to come. But, there you go. That damn S2 is causing me more trouble than all the other requirements combined.  Because of it, I have to get my TIN (Taxpayer's Identification Number) ID, which, of course, I never applied for. That means that we had to drive about 20 kilometers away to the Bureau of Internal Revenue (this is a considerable distance when we're talking about the traffic in Manila), wait for more than an hour while the government employees took their sweet time getting back from lunch, only to be told that I couldn't get an ID because I had to update my registered-bloody-address. So the guy there gave me two forms, and told me to fill them up and give them to the BIR at North Quezon City. Fine. So we drove all the way back and proceeded to the establishment in question. And what happened? The--fortunately--nice lady there told us that we'd done it wrong; we should have had the three--not two!--forms processed back at the Manila BIR before submitting it to the BIR at South Quezon City.   My blood started to boil. That was definitely not a good day.

   Anyway, that task finally got done. I handed the whole thing over to my helper because I didn't want to go through that entire hassle again. Thankfully, she survived this time, although we've been told to wait 3-5 days for processing before I could apply for my ID. Fine. I can still wait. The hospital I've been applying to doesn't even know the deadline for the residency application, which is a good thing, because that must mean it's still far off. I sure hope so. I haven't studied yet, and that fact is finally beginning to worry me. I should have at least a month left. That's enough.

   My next stop tomorrow: the compulsory urine drug test, which I could not take before because I had been taking slimming pills which could turn out false positive and give me a bad record at the Department of Health. Great. I'm so excited.

renzguerra liberated at 01:37 am
Prescription (1) The bill

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All About Me

DOCTOR POTATO IS IN!
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ABOUT ME:

Age: 26 (Biological); 23 (Real daw)

Occupation: IM Resident

Subspecialty: Cardio or Endo

Appearance: Look at the Avatar ;)

Just trying to:

Introduce people to the wacky world of Medicine in the Philippines

Correct some common misconceptions about medical stuff

Blog about life in general

Visit my other pages

I Live: long and prosper.
I Work: Awww...do I have to?.
I Think: therefore I get headaches.
I Laugh: even when I don't get the joke.
I Hide: and Seek.
I Write: when I'm bored/inspired.
I See:...Dead People?
I Sing: in the shower.
I Can: cross my eyes.
I Can't: whistle.
I Watch: Disney.
I Daydream: in church. I can't help it!.
I Fall: when my heels are too pointy.
I Want: potato chips. Lays, Sour Cream and Onion.
I Cry: when I chop onions.
I Read: the instruction manuals that come with gadgets.
I Love: Tomato.
I Sometimes: talk to myself. Joke. Oh, wait...
I Fear: Doctor Go.
I Hope: to be him someday. Another joke!
I Quit: and so did three others....
I Miss: College.
I Forgive: mostly everyone, except Kris Aquino for publicly confessing she had an STD.
I Drive: a red Mazda 3. In my dreams.
I Dream: when I sleep. Duh.
I Remember: when I had a smaller waistline. *sigh*
I Don't: have a sense of direction.
I Believe: that I should be in Hogwarts.
I Know: who was killed in the Half-Blood Prince.
I Hate: Snape.
I Feel: restless.

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AUTUMN

Mountain splinters courting
butterflies
down blood-strewn folds,
shivered mirrors--

A shadow birthing
reflections
of herself carved cleanly
under nestling leaves,
dancing smears--

Fire sweeping
what fickle sky kisses
gently
in cold embrace; gently

reminding
this whispered beauty like
a dream
fading, to blackness deep soon
fading.

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Reminder to Self When Writing...

Kapag pinag-sama ang Patatas at ang Kamatis, ano ang katumbas? Gulay ba? Hindi yata bagay kung sa pagkain. Pero kung sa totoong buhay, aba...hindi yata puwedeng magkahiwalay!!

When: In about two or three years.
Kids: Maximum of two.
Cars: Two to three, an SUV for him and a car for him.
Pets:

He wants a St. Bernard. I want a Shih Tzu. Let's hope the former doesn't eat the latter.
House:

Decorations:

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