Working for a health company means that the people I work for value health on top of other things. After all, the subject of health is where we earn our keep. Birthdays in our company is not only cause for celebrations — celebrating birthdays meant you will be given a cup to take home to get your icky samples and you will be scheduled for your Annual Physical Examinations.
It’s a chore, but a must-do and you can’t wiggle out of an APE because HR will monitor you like crazy. When I was younger, I used to dread taking the annual physical — after all, you will be required to submit your urine and poop sample, you will get poked and prodded; your itty bits handled and mashed to check for signs of lumps and potential health problems. The thought of undressing in front of a stranger used to scare the hell out of me. I guess it is different when you get older and you want to make sure that the parts are still in tip-top condition. After all, getting sick is very expensive in the Philippines. Unless you have health insurance — incidentally, only 10% of the total PH population has one — a consultation, or worse, hospitalization is enough to put a drain in you or your family’s finances. Sad to say, in this country, there are even people who pass away without even seeing a doctor during their lifetime.
Turning another year older also meant that I am now subjected to the “Full Menu” — so aside from CBC Blood Test, Urinalysis, Chest X-Ray and Medical History Taking, I was also subjected to ECG and best of all, OB Gyne exam. It’s a bit disconcerting but something that has to be done if I want to live past the age of 50.
The results, sad to say, is heart breaking.
LOSING THE BATTLE AGAINST THE BULGE
In spite the fact that I hardly ate, that I have the appetite of a bird, I am sad to announce that it seems to be that I have lost my battle against my continued weight gain. I have already seen the signs but until I saw the figure (which is above 160lbs – my former weight), I have never been so disappointed and depressed.
I am now severely overweight. From my weight of 100lbs during university, my weight have tipped the scales so badly that I am now told that it is affecting my capability to breed. Apparently, the excess fat might be wrecking a havoc on my reproductive system. I am trying to make light of the situation because to mope about it is just useless and will just make me more depressed than what I normally am. I did not know how I get myself to fail this miserably. I am fat, childless and currently, miserably penniless. To mope about it will do nothing to get me out of this pit I have put myself into.
After I saw my new weight, I was immediately ashamed especially since the people who measured me were my officemates. Unlike other patients who were names and numbers on the appointment sheet, I was a person who worked with them and interacted at them. They knew of my struggle on infertility and the fact that I am now at my heaviest has validated my incapability to breed. Mostly, because I was fat.
THIS IS NOT A PITY PARTY.
I chose to relay my descent into FatVille not because I want you to pity me but because I need to see, in words, in black and white, how low I have come. I guess I needed the wake up jolt to see that I will never become a mother unless I do something about my body.
At the end of the day, no one is responsible with my health but myself. I was the one who didn’t took care of my body and now I am suffering from it. I am just glad that I was able to be see it before it was too late. I still have time, I hope.