Anyway, I was classified as such mainly because I failed my blood test. I was anemic — that was a given. But I’d like to note that my blood chemistry has improved a lot. Still, not in the normal range but not anymore that bad that would bring the words “blood transfusion” to any respectable hematologist.

Another finding was that I had a high cholesterol — I was expecting that. But I didn’t expect that it would go through the roof. I failed in epic proportions. I mean it’s way high — steep, so up there. I compared my results with my other officemates (read : friends in the office) who are also in the same predicament but nobody could hold a candle on me. My count was even higher compared to the guy who is more than twice my size in terms of weight. I went to someone who I know would surely surpass my number because he wasn’t called the “(food) terminator” for nothing. But his cholesterol count was normal. What?!? I was stumped. I couldn’t believe it. The first thought that came to head was his results had to be rigged. Til he confessed that he was already on drugs (read: meds). So that leaves me —- Hail to the Queen of Cholesterol! =oP I am such because I am a premium card carrying member of the carnivore club who loves fried and fatty foods. I guess I have to re-evaluate my diet again. No more chicaron. Sniff, sniff. No more steaks. Waaaahhh! (Kill me now……… joke!) I think it’ll be harder for me to give up beef and pork compared to giving up rice. Just thinking about it makes me crave it more. (Note to self : EQ. Self-control. No to instant gratification. You can eat it again once your cholesterol is in the decent level)

Pounding another nail to my coffin is that they said I had an elevated blood pressure. But in my defense, I have white coat syndrome (sorry, not in the mood to explain this. feel free to google it. hehehehe). Though I have a family history on this on my mother side of the family.

Another exam I was expecting to fail was for my fasting blood sugar. Knowing my penchant for sweets, not to mention my Dad had diabetes (as well as all his siblings), I thought I was a goner in this aspect. But surprise, surprise, I passed with flying colors. The level was normal, as average as it could get and not a single sugar crystal in my urinalysis. Yey! And to celebrate my small feat, I ate ice cream, cake and chocolates as midnight snack at the end of that day. =oP

Earlier, I mentioned I was rated a class C. I thought I’d be one from a few who had this rating. But majority of the people in the office had it as its rating — around 80-85 percent. Only a handful got a Class A — physically fit. Some people who I knew to be health conscious or those who are young enough to be at the peak of their health got a Class B or C rating. They had findings in their X-ray, ECG, etc. What’s up with that? Either classification was that stringent or it was a ploy by our health card so that we would use it for further evaluation thereby gaining more income for them. Someone joked it was a strategy by management so that we wouldn’t look for another job because we deemed ourselves “unfit” for employment. hehehehe….

Anyway, that being said, I will be going to a doctor one of these days for proper meds to be prescribed, if needed. Hopefully, by next year I will be promoted to Class B —– or to the so exclusive Class A. One can dream, right? =oP

Yup, I’ve cut my own hair a few months back without any help from anyone. It was just between me, a fine-tooth comb, a couple of pair of scissors and my vanity mirror.

Last year, my sister-in-law’s hairstylist told me how to cut my hair into the style I wanted. It sounded and looked so easy that I thought I could do that. But I had my misgivings. Hey, we were talking about my hair here —- my so-called crowning glory.

Anyway, a couple of months after, I impulsively bought hair scissors. I couldn’t decide whether to buy the straight edge or jagged one so I bought both. Still, I didn’t have the bravado to cut my mane. I had to have a plan. I would have to cut in way that if things didn’t work out I could immediately go to a salon so that damage repair could be done — Plan B.

But it didn’t happen that way. One morning, after taking a shower, I saw the scissors I bought (still unopened, with price tag & all) on my dresser and said WTH, it’s now or never. So I started combing my wet hair then proceeded cutting it. My first cut was a big chunk— I mean the length was long — so there was no turning back. After 5 minutes or so, ta-dah…. my obra maestra was done. I had layered hair, not just on the end or at the back but all around. Not bad, if I do say so myself.