Squirrel Radio: Birthday Banter and 21st Century Dating

Squirrel Radio: Intelligent Inebriates and Political Bullshit

Squirrel Radio: What the Fuck?!

Link to Universal Benefits of Exercise

Squirrel Radio: Star Spangled Kiwi

Squirrel Radio: To Exercise or Not to Exercise, that is the Question

Thought of the Day 18-Jul-15: I Could Be The One

I just seriously think everyone should see this video. Wow, just wow.

Squirrel Radio: First Episode!

Zombie Fingers Part II: The Last Piece of the Puzzle!

Today I mentioned my finger/anaemia issue to a co-worker that I only see on my Sunday shift. They took one look at my blotches and said, "Well Mate, you may be anaemic, but those spots aren't going to go away with vitamins. That's called Chilblains, I get it too [showed me their hands], it's actually really common. There's nothing you can do about it but don't worry too much, you'll only see it in the Winter." WTF?!

Apparently I should be wearing gloves 24-7

Two seconds on a Google image search confirmed their diagnosis, and once I read about the condition using the link above there was no denying that's what is ravaging my fingers. I wondered why the Virginian MD failed to mention this dermatological scourge, but I assume she thought the anaemia was related, if not the cause, so addressing that issue took precedence. Interestingly, all the information about this malady comes from sources outside of the US. It doesn't seem to be a popular topic there, probably because it can't be cured by something made by Pfizer.

So, Chilblains afflicts people with poor circulation and therefore experience frequently cold extremities. The majority of people get sores on their feet, but hands and even earlobes and noses are also common. Though my feet seem to be fine, my hands haven't been warm sine 2007 (seriously, that's when I broke my internal heater my burning off it's fuel source; aka, lost weight). I believe the most likely cause in my case is, again, poor nutrition; going back to my anaemia and related issues.

Anyway, something squirrely happens to the underlying vasculature when people, like me, have cold extremities and they touch something hot or otherwise warm up these areas too fast. When I read that statement I thought back to the first time I noticed my sore spots. I was in the lab at Hospira, and my favorite way to pass the overnight shift was to load and unload the dishwasher. The dishes that came out of this washer were no less than a million degrees, and since my hands were always freezing I loved putting them away fresh out of the washer. Coincidentally it was also dead Winter and I'd run out of Vitamin D pills, a disputed remedy for Chilblains. Interestingly, I'd been washing dishes for months in that lab, but never developed the sores until then. Flash forward to my NZ migration. I can pin-point the reappearance of the blotches and precisely two things come to mind: One, I had ran out of both my Vitamin C and Multi-Vitamins, and two, I had started doing a protocol for Total Ash almost every day. This particular protocol requires me to heat silica crucibles to 600C. I'd always wear an oven mitt when removing them from the furnace, but people marvelled as I frequently took them in and out of the 105C oven without any gloves to weigh them to obtain my result. Not to mention that since my hands are perpetually cold, I love to submerge them in hot-as water or just rest my hands on top of heaters, ovens and steam baths. I've even been known to place them in my toaster oven for a bit when I'm particularly desperate.

So, we've now identified the cause, what about the treatment? Amongst many debated remedies such as vitamins and ointments, the only real treatment for Chilblains is to stay warm and not allow the extremities to experience intense temperature fluctuations. What kind of fucking treatment is that?! It presupposes that I'm cold and/or have poor circulation by choice. If I stayed in an environment that was maintained at my optimal temperature I don't think I'd like my other companions, because surely I'd be in Hell. Shit, sometimes I actually think that my high heat tolerance means I'm the Mother of Dragons, or at least have Targaryen blood! I've said it before and I'll say it again, shedding my insulation and thus my ability to keep myself warm is the only thing I regret about losing weight. It was an unforeseen consequence. The only time I feel authentic internal warmth is after 15 minutes of high intensity cardio. It's no wonder I'm a gym-junkie! Anyway, the only remedy I plan to try is to stop picking up things that would melt the skin of an ordinary person and hopes that helps. 

On the bright side my outbreak, painful and ugly though it may be, is nothing compared to some of the more severe cases I saw on my image search. Be thankful that I didn't share them, but if I wanted to inspire nightmares, I could have shown some. Though images of Chilblains aren't nearly as bad as 'Black Hairy Tongue.' (Note: WebMD link does not immediately show a picture, give it serious consideration before actually looking at an image; it's impossible to un-see.) 

Thought of the Day 04-Jul-15: Zombie Fingers

A: Hi, I'm your diseased digit, can you please go see a doctor before I fall off?!

I'll be the first to admit that I tend to worry about shit that isn't really a big deal while ignoring signs of legitimate concern. See exhibits A and B, respectively. I had been trying to hold out for a Permanent Resident visa status so that my health insurance would kick in, but yesterday I finally gave in and had my slowly dying fingertips looked at by a doctor.  Suspecting I had contracted some sort of flesh-eating bacteria or fungal infection, I made the call when I noticed new spots on my other hand which meant it was spreading. I would never have guessed, not in a million years, the nature of the underlying issue.

B: If you're fingers look like this, it is NOT NORMAL!

After a 2 hour wait at an urgent care facility because my immigrant status does not allow me to schedule regular doctors' appointments, I was (embarrassingly) relieved to be called by a doctor with an obvious American accent. For some reason knowing that she was trained in the States (even in Virginia, Zing!), put me at ease. Also, becoming qualified to practice medicine in New Zealand as an immigrant is damned-near impossible, so I was fully confident in this doctor's competence, despite her Southern origin, haha. I immediately launched into the tale of my zombie fingers: The first appearance of these strange, red, sore, dry, hardened, blotches on the fingers of my right hand occurred about ten months ago in the US, shortly after beginning work in a chemistry lab. When I left that job and moved to New Zealand they went away, but reappeared about four months after taking up similar work here. Surely I had some kind of hand dermatitis, an allergy to a chemical ubiquitous in such laboratory environments; right? Wrong. 

Dr. Daisy Mae took my hand, turned it over to look at my fingernails, then asked me to looked up towards the ceiling as she inspected the white areas of my eyes. She then asked me if I was a vegetarian, to which I proudly proclaimed "hell no." Yet with 100% certainty and without hesitation she stated that I was anaemic. Uh, no, sorry; she must have thought she was talking to someone who did not meticulously analyze and plan everything they put into their body, taking in the perfect portions of protein, fat and carbohydrates to keep their preciously well-oiled machine in ship-shape. That is the person I am. Not too mention the fact that the primary sign of anaemia is fatigue and lethargy, qualities I disdain above all others, and had certainly never experienced. Shit, I'm a bundle of energy at the worst of times, if I'm anaemic now and correct the issue, I may well spin off into outer-fucking-space!

After hearing her out and seeing the images of anaemic fingernails (see below), however, the evidence was irrefutable. Dr. Miss Virginia went on to explain that the patches were caused by a lack of oxygen to my extremities; my fingertips were, in fact, becoming necrotic and the tissue was dying which in turn causes soreness from inflammation. Awesome. That's also about the same time I realized that both times these red spots materialized were instances when I went off my otherwise extremely faithful regimen of abundant vitamins (both multi and extra vitamin C). The most recent lapse being that I had run out of my US supply and I simply refused to pay the exorbitant price of vitamins in New Zealand. Well guess what the current treatment was to be? A daily high potency multivitamin as well as an iron-vitmamin C combo supplement. Over $100 bucks later I just hope they kick-in in time to stop my fingers from craving brains.

My nails have looked like this for a very long time; how could I have known?

Imagine my shock when I saw (what appeared to be) my nails on an anaemia diagnosis website.

More concerning, though I may eat plenty of iron and other essential fuels thanks to my fastidious eating habits, that doesn't necessarily mean my body is absorbing them. Thus, this anaemia is likely a sign of a bigger issue, but that investigation really will have to wait until I have insurance. I suspect that the ultimate diagnosis will also link to both my chronic constipation and struggle with low blood sugar levels. Clearly, my body is not properly absorbing or responding to nutrients.

So, not consciously realizing that this news affected me on any real emotional level, my flatmate made the observation that I was acting a bit more abrasive than normal. And oh the beauty of my filterless mouth, speaking the truth that had been eluding my Mind until I heard its own words: "I don't want to be anaemic! I do everything right, eat all the right foods; so why is my body still broken?! I lost weight to be healthy, yet ever since I did my body has been in a slow decline." Sad though it may seem, this is how I view my current situation. 

In comes the difference between knowing versus believing. I know I am whole, I know I am a good person with good intentions, that my Body is not completely failing me; but I don't believe it yet. Hearing this medical report reminds me that I am very much fallible, and it's frustrating. Another reminder that I can't control how my body processes what I eat. Still, I'm grateful that I don't have a flesh-eating bacteria. It's also easier to accept given my naturally optimistic tendencies. My one glimmer of hope is that this anaemia, which has been longstanding without my knowledge, has been causing other issues that I did not attribute to an actual medical problem such as moodiness and persistently cold extremities. As such, the treatment may bring relief of ailments I didn't even know existed, realized only in their absence. Yes, that is where I will place my focus, because choosing the positive isn't always easy but it is certainly better than feeling sorry for myself. I am no victim, it doesn't suite me; I'm going to take my supplements and use the iron to kick this anaemia in the nuts!

Thought of the Day 02-Jul-15: Conjuring The Patronus

While talking to a dear friend and colleague yesterday I made an analogy that I thought so fitting that I feel compelled to share the notion in hopes it can empowers others. This friend and I relate on the topic of anxiety and depression and as they'd recently needed to alter their neuropathic pain medication recently, they experienced a bout they described as 'thinking its never going to get better.' That definitely hit home with me.

There were three times in my life when my chronic anxiety led to perpetual panic and, effectively, nervous breakdowns. I wrote about finding ways to deal with these episodes previously, and hilariously I might add. So, as we discussed this bleak sentiment and the sheer horror, terror and hopelessness that it manifests, an image immediately came to mind that was perfectly fitting. I said, 'it must be what it feels like to be around a Dementor,' and she agreed as we giggled about being dorky Harry Potter fans. I sincerely hope that many people who read this article don't understand what I'm attempting to describe, but most Humans feel this way to some extent or another at some point during their life. Those plagued by chronic emotional disorders certainly know it all too well. It's the feeling that the clouds above are so thick that the sun will never shine again, or an endless darkness that will never lift. It's a though happiness has never been felt before, nor will it ever be felt again. Worst of all, there seems to be no way to improve or alter this forlorn state. Unmitigated destitution.

Ooooohhhh, scary!

Naturally the next step, taking the Harry Potter theme a step further, is to ask: What is my Patronus? Who or what can I think of or remember during those times of utter darkness that will begin to gleam some light through? How can I tap into my inner power to blast away that fog and kick that Dementors ass?! I know my answer, but everyone needs to have an answer for themselves. It may take some trial and error to discover the answer, yet evoking ones' Patronus is perhaps the most beneficial practice one can do for emotional fortitude.

Rrrahh, badass!

Happily I could actually feel (my ability as an Empath, a future article I'm currently working on) the positive energy begin to flow back out of my friend as their medication began to work again and the fog began to clear; resetting to their natural optimistic state. And though for some medications are an essential tool that their Patronus wields to defeat the Dementor that's upon them, that foundation of positive energy that one can conjure despite the negative forces surrounding them is crucial to their emotional stability and state of happiness in this world.