AN APPLE A DAY KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY…if aimed right!

Poor diet…could be; living with my dad is like living in campus hostels! You basically live hand to mouth and more often than not eat junk. Don’t get me wrong, the old man doesn’t starve us or rather he doesn’t intend to. Let me try and make you understand. First of all, he knows diddly squat about how a kitchen is run or food preparation.

Me: Dad, there is no flour to make chapattis

Dad: what about those ones?

Me: those are self raising flour…

Dad: it says wheat on the packet, why can’t you use it?

Me: they have baking powder in them 

Dad: well, you are not going to bake the chapattis. What difference does it make?

Me: *face palm*

Imagine dealing with that on everything about everything. Secondly, he thinks we are all crooks; always trying to swindle money for food to fund airtime and imbibe in alcohol and genetically modified foods (KFC). Consequently, the kitchen budget is tight. Whoever’s turn it is to ask for money should have thoroughly prepared to be subjected to the third degree and a budget review that could put the Ministry of Finance to shame. Not forgetting to mask items like Royco and pilau masala as soap and any other “sensible” items as a must-have because my grandmother cooked for him scrumptious healthy meals without those “unnecessary embellishments that lack nutritional value.” You can never hear the end of that one! Lord, December cannot get here fast enough for my mother to come save us from this spices Nazi!!

Menstruation…

Before I forget to let you in on what am blogging about. I suspect I am anemic again (it’s that word again that worries me) hence attempting to carry out a clinical diagnosis based on signs and symptoms and possible supporting factors.  I am aware that medical students are inclined to hypochondria and self diagnosis is prone to error therefore potentially dangerous and frowned upon by physicians. I just don’t want to leave my cocoon for non prescription medication. Don’t look at me like that, wouldn’t you want to be sure before you pay consultation fee of Ksh. 500 for stupid Paracetamol!

Aaarggghh!!The horror..the horror!!

Where was I?  Oh menstruation! “Each month, the blood sheets down like good red rain ~Erica jong.” Well, that can’t be good if your BMI is already slightly underweight. This brings me to the psychological exploitation bellied by false advertising. Sanitary towel companies leave a lot to be desired when they deliberately omit the ugly truths about the “time of the month,” which is EVERYTHING about the process. Cramps, bloating, fatigue, change in sex drive, breast tenderness, nausea and mood swings.  I am yet to meet a woman who is “happy always” and “free” to choreograph dance moves with foreign synthetic fibers stuffed between her legs.

Parasitic worms…as horrifying as the thought is wriggling, fornicating and ferocious intestinal parasites may have possibly inhabited my gut.  That would explain the sporadic hunger pangs, pica and insomnia. Talk about uninvited guests at every meal!  They gobble down everything I eat, with or without Royco and have the nerve to wait until it’s all nicely digested before helping themselves to the finer stuff like vitamins, minerals and simple sugars! Like all ungrateful guests they most surely defecate all over my gut, secrete toxins and invite all manner of pathogens to this unsanctioned bash. In the event I do have worms (which you know euww!), I expect to soon be grunting and gnashing my teeth in the toilet with no result from my rear end. In the lucky event the aforementioned grunting yields fruit, the resulting stool is nothing to write home about. This will also demonstrate my grasp of concept in microbiology unit...which is a good thing.

In retrospect, I would much rather prefer leeching intruders in my gut than a malignant “blood eating” tumor or a primary immunodeficiency. Anemia is more often than not a symptom of an aggressive underlying ailment or body deficiency. I have to admit that its dumb being a sitting duck waiting for the weekend so that Wolf can kiss it away whilst possibly endangering my health and wellbeing.  In as much as self diagnosis is inexpensive and convenient, it’s better to be safe than sorry so here is to paying Ksh. 500 and then some for de-wormers and Ranferon…ALBEIT GRUDGINGLY!