| Wednesday, August 10, 2005 | |||
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Another myth busted. According to Jeffrey Kluger of Time Magazine, it is actually possible to be fat and fit at the same time. Apparently, being overweight may not be as dangerous as being inactive, according to Holter, Miranda, and Park of Time. We all know that inactivity leads to obesity, and obesity leads to a slew of other health problems, such as diabetes, stroke, heart disease, sleep apnea, joint problems, and even cancer. "It's not the number on the scale or the size of your khakis that will kill you, after all; it's the elevated blood pressure and cholesterol...that come with moving to the relaxed fit rack." (Time) Being fit and fat isn't quite as good as being fit and lean, of course. The fat itself, especially the 'visceral fat' around our middles which encapsulates our internal organs, releases inflammatory substances that contribute to diabetes and hypertension. Logically, the more fat we have, the more predisposed we are to cardiovascular problems and related diseases. The good thing is, exercise helps combat some of the negative effects of this fat, making it possible to attain normal blood pressures, normal cholesterol and sugar profiles, and even normal aerobic capacity. In layman's terms, that means that some active plus-size people out there might actually be healthier than slender and sedentary model-types. For someone who is active but has yet to lose a lot of weight (like me!!) that's really good news. Exercise Tips for the Oversized (From Time) SAUNTER OVER TO DOC EMER'S FOR THE 46TH MEDBLOGGERS' GRAND ROUNDS, AND SOME 40+ OF THE BEST HEALTH-RELATED POSTS AROUND. ENJOY!! Prescription (1) The bill
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| Tuesday, August 09, 2005 | |||
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There are many superstiitons about the Caul, which is actually just the transparent placental membrane which sometimes covers the head of a baby when it is born. In the Philippines, this is the prevailing belief: Babies born with a caul will manifest supernatural abilities and an open third eye (the ability to see ghosts). Many other cultures have attributed strange powers to this membrane since time immemorial. As the link shows, some seers practiced a form of divination with it, called Amniomancy. It was said that a caul could prevent anyone from dying by drowning, so they were prized by sailors all over the world. That cauls are considered lucky even among some superstition-scorning Christians is explained by the legend that even Jesus was born with one. Now, according to Medpundit, the Caul might very well turn out to have some miraculous properties after all; not by preventing drownings or bestowing magical abilities, but being the source of infinitely flexible stem cells that can turn into entire organs or tissues, thus sidestepping the issue of rejection which complicates transplants. Countless lives could be saved or improved in the future. This is certainly a viable option to all of us who strenuously object against the use of stem cells harvested from aborted fetuses. In a way, perhaps those seers and sailors knew what they were talking about after all. Prescriptions (4) The bill
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| Monday, August 08, 2005 | |||
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Now for something goose-pimple-inducing that doesn't involve Medicine...
If you answered yes to all of the above questions, you must have serious thrill issues. Most of the people I know who can say "I see...dead people" deplore their gift. But I know one person who would love to have a close encounter of the third kind with anything paranormal. That's unusual; I love ghost stories too, but put me face-to-face with a real apparition and I'd probably faint. On the other hand, Ian (not my Tomato) would probably thrust a hand out to the befuddled ghost and introduce himself. He was used to driving home very late in the evening. He lived a fair distance away from his girlfriend's house, and used a route that consisted mostly of dark winding streets. To keep himself awake and preoccupied, he listened to the news or sang along to the songs belting out from his radio. One night, he got home late as usual. The gate was open, but the front door was locked. He parked his car in the garage and knocked on the door. His mother opened the door for him, froze for a few seconds, then hustled him wordlessly inside.
It was only on the following night, while he was driving home, that his mother texted him the explanation for her weird behavior. Upon opening the door for him the previous night, she had seen a lady with an open umbrella standing by his car. The lady was quite distinct, from her face to her dress. Then, she had disappeared. His mother was quite convinced that he had brought the ghost home with him. In his car. Needless to say, no amount of singing or listening to the news could prevent him from nervously checking his mirror every few seconds that night. (As told by my Tomato himself) Prescription (1) The bill
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| Sunday, August 07, 2005 | |||
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A doctor, like any other human being who works for a living, deserves just compensation for his services. However, how much he should actually receive has always been a matter of controversy. There is no set standard which dictates how much a doctor should charge, so professional fees are pretty much arbitrary. The doctor can set them himself, factoring in his education, expertise and experience. Or, he can go by the standards of his colleagues, so that there is a semblance of fair play in the neverending competition for patients. But what exactly does "just compensation" mean? What else is someone supposed to factor in when computing the professional fee? How about improvement in the quality of life? How about the increase in the patient's lifespan? Are those ineffables considered too? The factor that definitely shouldn't be considered is the doctor's current financial status. The fact that he is building his house or dead set on buying a BMW shouldn't reflect on the patient's bill, right? Of course. But there are some supposedly professionals out there (who took the Hippocratic Oath along with the rest of us) who must think otherwise, judging by their actions. I know of a cardiovascular surgeon who had a patient referred to him by a general surgeon. For simplicity's sake, let's call the TCVS Dr. Lopez, and the GS Dr. Del Monte. The two doctors had been classmates back when they were still in Medical school, and were ostensibly friends. The patient, a retired seaman who had been experiencing intensifying chest pains, turned out to have advanced Coronary Artery Disease. He had savings from his lucrative former job, but the brunt of the expenses would be shouldered by his company. Dr. Lopez gave him the less expensive package at the hospital anyway, seeing that the patient was elderly and had no close family. The operation was a success. The patient was soon feeling perfectly healthy and pain-free. Grateful and delighted at the impeccable service, he asked for the bill so he could settle it and give the receipt to his company for reimbursement. Oddly, Dr. Del Monte asked his friend how much the package was, saying that he wanted to collect the money himself. Dr. Lopez gave a figure of 200,000 pesos, which was a fair price considering that this already covered the hospital fees for ten days' confinement and the fees of three other prominent consultants. A few days later, Dr. Del Monte approached Dr. Lopez again and gave him the 200,000 pesos in cash. He then asked for a receipt in return. For 350,000 pesos. Dr. Lopez was nonplussed. Why was he going to sign out a receipt for 350,000 when he had only received 200,000? That was not part of the deal. He asked for an explanation, which Dr. Lopez initially refused to give, saying that it was irrelevant. Finally, at Dr. Lopez's insistence, the whole story came out. Del Monte had charged the patient 350,000. Upon receiving the full amount in cash, he had then given the 200,000 to his friend and pocketed the rest as his 'professional fee'. Lopez was stunned. His 'friend' had not done anything to earn that extravagant sum. Del Monte was a general surgeon, and had not assisted in the patient's management in any way. He didn't even visit while the patient was in the hospital convalescing. Further questioning disclosed what Lopez feared. Del Monte was in the process of buying an expensive car which he didn't quite have the funds for. Perhaps he wanted the money for down payment. Of course, he wouldn't admit to such a thing, but he wouldn't explain why would charge so exorbitantly, either. Lopez maintained his stand. He would not issue a receipt for 350K when he had not received any such money, even for the sake of friendship; not because he was afraid of being caught, but because it was the wrong thing to do. He would not help perpetuate such an unethical practice. The comical thing was, this reasoning never occurred to Del Monte until Lopez spelled it out for him. Del Monte thought that his friend was refusing him out of either cowardice or spite. When he learned that it was out of integrity, he sputtered and completely lost wind. Evidently, he thought that most of his friends subscribed to or tolerated this form of self-enrichment, instead of doing honest work. He was wrong. To shorten a long story, Lopez never acquiesced to Del Monte's demands. He wrote a receipt for 200,000 pesos only. The GS eventually had to sign out his own receipt for the 150,000 pesos that he had pocketed, making his greed perfectly clear. As expected, the company did not reimburse this additional expense. The patient returned to the TCVS, fuming at his attending physician's treachery and hinting darkly of reprisal. Lopez never heard anything more about it after the last check-up. He hasn't heard from Del Monte since, either, after the latter suddenly and mysteriously left the country. So, on whose side would you be on? Would you have two different answers depending on whether anyone could hear you or not? It's easy to side with justice on the abstract. But if you were in the same situation, and you had to consider such factors as friendship, loyalty to the profession and your colleagues, maintaining appearances, and the possibility of a suit...it's nowhere near as cut-and-dried. That Dr. Lopez chose the right path anyway is a testament to his values, and a lesson to all of us who are striving to uphold the respect which comes with being called "Doctor". Prescriptions (3) The bill
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Hi again! Find out exactly why those weird-sounding Filipino street foods merit a warning of 'eat at your own risk':
Prescription (1) The bill
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| Saturday, August 06, 2005 | |||
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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
PASS BY AGAIN TOMORROW FOR PART DEUX!! BUT IT WON'T BE AS FUNNY AS YOU THINK... Prescriptions (3) The bill
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| Friday, August 05, 2005 | |||
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Okay. If you're not planning to read the admittedly LONG entry below, then I'll encapsulate it for you. It's about:
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. Prescriptions (3) The bill
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| Thursday, August 04, 2005 | |||
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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. Prescriptions (2) The bill
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| Wednesday, August 03, 2005 | |||
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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! Didn't I tell you that you'd learn something new?
Prescribe! The bill
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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. Prescribe! The bill
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Blogroll Me! ABOUT ME: ![]() Just trying to: ![]() 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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