My Short-lived One-Armed Bandit Existence

"How did that happen?” “What did you do?”

I was met with these queries when I showed up in an international meeting with my arm in a sling. Okay, the sling was not the heavy-duty type – my arm was neither in a cast nor mummy-wrapped in several meters of bandage. I was wearing a very simple belt-like contraption, intended to keep my bent arm in place and prevent the inflamed area from being further strained.

Flashback. A few days before I was set to travel, my left arm was feeling a little sore. I didn’t pay much attention to it and in fact, went to the gym twice that week. I was however, very cautious and conscious to not lift weights, although I did a few machine exercises. A day before traveling, my arm was positively hurting. I was a little anxious, given that it showed the same symptoms of a condition I had several years ago. Back then, I literally couldn’t move my left arm – couldn’t twist, raise or bend it. Making a fist hurt and I learned to do basic functions like eating, taking a shower, and dressing up with just one hand. Thankfully, it was my right. “Calcified tendinitis”, the doctor told me then, a condition which refers to the build-up of calcium salts in a tendon, usually as a result of an injury, trauma or stress, leading to inflammation. Apart from taking medication for it (Bextra, which is no longer available), I had to go through two weeks of daily physical therapy, which included having electric current run through the affected area for about 20 minutes.

I did not see a doctor, which was quite stupid, actually. I figured, I’ll just take painkillers to ease the pain. The flight (13 hours to Amsterdam and another hour to Geneva, with two hours of layover time in Schipol airport) was uncomfortable, to say the least. I tried to distract myself from the pain by reading Norman Lebrecht’s, “The Life and Death of Classical Music”, while listening to Gautier Capuçon’s recording of Rachmaninoff and Prokofiev’s cello sonatas. The book is a fascinating read – it takes you to the innards of the classical recording industry, from the early 1900s up to contemporary times – but that’s another blog – if I get to it.

By the time I got to Geneva, which was at 10 in the evening, the pain signals from my brain went full throttle. I managed to sleep, albeit uncomfortably, but resolved that I had to get medical care the next morning. Just as well, because when I woke up, my left arm had gone on strike. By mid-morning, I texted my friend, Hendrik, who’s with the Philippine mission in Geneva assigned to the UN Human Rights Council. Hendrik belonged to Batch 12 of the Cadetship Programme for foreign service officers – the first batch for which ACHIEVE conducted a two-day HIV and Migration seminar-workshop.

Hendrik took me to the clinic, which was just a couple of blocks from my hotel. In all the years I’ve traveled outside the Philippines (since 1993), I’ve only been to a foreign clinic once (this was in the UN headquarters in Bangkok when I had tummy upset during a workshop – which I surmised later – was caused by indiscriminate popping of ibuprofen). ACHIEVE’s work on migration and health issues resonated so distinctly, especially with regards to access to health care of migrants and mobile populations. I single-handedly (no pun intended) validated some of the findings in our research, especially with regards to barriers in accessing health care/services. One is that many migrants don’t seek health care because of language/communication barriers. It was a good thing that the doctor could speak in English, and even though he was not very fluent, his diagnosis of my condition was comprehensible. Second major barrier is economic. Our NGO partner in Malaysia, Tenaganita, has said that migrants often have to pay first-class cost for third-class medical service.

The doctor who attended to me was quite helpful. The first thing he asked me was if I had health insurance. He examined my arm and said it was already inflamed. He then informed me that he would prescribe medication to ease the pain and stop the inflammation. Since I would be going home in five day’s time, he suggested that I should just do the proper medical tests and treatment in the Philippines, i.e., X-ray and blood test (to check for possible infection or uric acid build-up), as it would be very expensive to have it there. He did warn that if my condition did not improve within 24 hours, I should go back to the clinic. For that consultation, I paid 120 Swiss francs (US$114.00 or PhP 5,400.00), which I hope my travel insurance would cover. Having the lab tests would have cost me an additional 300-400 Swiss francs (US $280-US $380 or PhP 13,500-18,000)! 

The next two days, my arm was nestled comfortably in that sling. I must say, many of my colleagues in that meeting were impressed with its unobtrusiveness. And it perfectly matched the color of my clothes. My condition did improve because by the third day I could dress up using both hands (although still slightly pained). By mid-day, I was able to do without the sling; it was getting a tad inconvenient to move around with it. Yet, my arm was not completely functional. When Hendrik, I and our friend P.A. went out to have fondue for dinner that evening, I had to ask P.A to break my bread into pieces and cut the steak in small slices. On the fourth day, I could already clean my left ear using my left hand. I still couldn’t tie my shoelaces, though, so I had to forego using my sneakers, and consequently ended up buying a couple of black socks for my other shoe.

That didn’t deter me from shopping though – I got the three C’s: chocolates, cheese, and classical music CDs. It goes without saying that I got owls too (one was a Swiss-made locket – something similar to what I got in Kobe many years ago).  Speaking of CDs, there’s a tiny shop under the Gare Cornavin train station which has a very extensive stock of classical and jazz music CDs. And some come as low as 4.90-9.90 Swiss francs (US$4.65-9.40 or PhP 220.00-420.00). Not bad at all! To think that classical CDs sold commercially in the Philippines is as common as seeing a barn owl in one’s backyard. Don’t ask me how many CDs I ended up hauling – all I can I say is that the inflammation in my left arm was not a major deterrent at all.

I am writing this blog on the flight back and oh, it’s great to be able to type with both hands again. Tomorrow, I shall see the doctor and will subserviently succumb to whatever treatment he/she prescribes. In the meantime, let me listen to a scratchy Al Jolson recording.

P.S. I went to the doctor today. He asked me to get an X-ray of my left shoulder/arm and a uric acid exam (although my blood chem test results last April showed normal uric acid levels). So I did both. He told me to continue taking the anti-inflammatory medicine and see him next week (which might be a little problematic as I am going up to Baguio for a vacay with my office, yey!).  Only then will I know if I have to go through physical therapy for it. Best thing about the check-up today -- my HMO covered everything. My uric acid result was normal (in fact, low-normal) but the impression in my Roentgenological findings (okay, that’s the X-ray report) read: Peritendinitis calcarea.

There’s still one pleasure I’m deprived of: being able to scratch my back with unbridled abandon.

 

From: http://www.ajronline.org/cgi/reprint/133/6/1139.pdf

Calcific tendinitis of the flexor carpi ulnaris presents a characteristic radiographic appearance of amorphous calcification near the pisiform. This calcification frequently is associated with acute symptoms and may be related to certain occupations and hobbies.

There are several synonyms for this inflammatory condition. They include penitendinitis calcarea, peniarthnitis calcarea, calcific tendinitis, calcific bursitis, and calcareous tendinitis and bursitis. The exact etiology of these calcifications is uncertain. They may actually represent a common soft tissue response to a variety of insults. While clinical symptoms occasionally date back to a specific event, a definite history of trauma usually is not elicited. Calcific tendinitis does seem to be related to certain types of activity, such as sudden repeated motions, and it may be associated with certain occupations and hobbies such as typing, golfing, or violin playing.

Clinically, this inflammatory reaction causes severe localized pain, tenderness to palpation, limited motion, swelling, redness, and increased warmth. There may be proximal extension of redness and swelling, but usually there is no local adenopathy, toxemia, or fever. Treatment is the same as for any calcific tendinitis or bursitis and includes analgesics, anti-inflammatory agents, heat, local anesthetic and/or steroid injection, mechanical disruption or aspiration of the calcification with a needle tip and (rarely) surgical excision. The relief afforded by these measures is thought to be due in great part to the release of tension within the area of calcium deposition with subsequent dissemination and absorption of the calcium salts.

 

 

Labasan, Keluar, Salida, Ausgang, Sortie, Exit -- to Where?

On May 22, 2009, MTV Pilipinas held the MTV “Exit Concert” at the MOA Concert Grounds. Exit stands for “End Exploitation and Trafficking”, a global campaign against exploitation and trafficking (mainly of women and girls), supported by USAID. As I’ve articulated in previous occasions, I have issues regarding USAID’s perspective and responses related to trafficking.

Indeed there are many women and girl children who are trafficked into sex work or bonded labor by unscrupulous and intricate networks of traffickers. They get physically abused, sexually violated, psychologically tortured and financially deceived. There are many documented stories of girls and women who survived to tell the tale of their ordeal. Because trafficking is more often conflated with sex work or prostitution, many of these raids and rescue operations are done among sex workers. While there is a need to seriously address the issue of trafficking, several women’s organizations and sex-worker groups, particularly in Thailand, Cambodia and India, are also saying that a clear distinction should be made between trafficking and sex work, as not all women who enter prostitution or sex work are trafficked. Some of them do so at their own agency and that they are not coerced into becoming sex workers. In fact, I’ve met some of these women and on these superficial interactions, they appear very steadfast and resolute in their decision to enter sex work. Who am I then, to challenge a very personal decision? In the same vein, it cannot also be denied that the women who are trafficked into sex work, are subjected to the worst imaginable abuse and exploitation. How then does one navigate these two extremely conflicted positions and contribute to the cause of ending exploitation of women – regardless if they were coerced or chose to do sex work?

But that is not what this blog is about. And just for the record, I don’t have issues about sex work being recognized as ‘work’.

I went with my friend, Patty, who’s here from the US on a Fullbright scholarship. Che, a friend who works in IOM (International Organization for Migration), a partner of USAID in anti-trafficking efforts, facilitated our entrance. As someone working on HIV and AIDS issues for the last 10 years, I’ve never gone to any MTV AIDS Summit (mainly because of travel schedules). Thus, I had no pulse on what the atmosphere in an MTV Concert would be like, and save for the warnings about how ‘jologs’ it would be, I decided to brave it anyway.

Patty and I arrived late – and so we missed Kamikazee, Parokya ni Edgar and a few other bands. I would have wanted to see Jay Contreras flinging his wild hair, gyrating with wild abandon and screaming at the top of his lungs, “Wala, wala, wala namang napala!” Rico Blanco was on to his third song when we got in, and yes, I surmised he had already performed his gem of a song, ‘Your Universe’.

It was an eclectic crowd – but majority were young people (which is a good demographic target for the cause). Teenage girls in their short minis (which reminded me of 70’s fashion) and scrawny teenage boys in their skinny jeans sauntered around the sprawling concert grounds. It was a very relaxed and breezy atmosphere at the back, where Patty and I decided to nest. In contrast, the area closer to the stage was filled to capacity -- of sweaty, sticky bodies.

Several acts followed Blanco: some were more memorable than others. Itchyworms, a band I’ve not really followed, sang their catchy tunes. Pupil, and its perennially stoic frontman, Eli Buendia, tried to “warm up” the crowd. Spongecola also did their bit, including a performance with Gary Valenciano. Gary then performed his own set. I'm not really a fan of Gary V, but if there’s one thing that can be said about him, it’s his staying power. He was already ‘Gary Valenciano’ in the 80’s – and 25 years later, he is still strutting his stuff. Moymoy Palaboy’s performance was a happy distraction. There’s something lovable about these internet sensation dudes from Pasay. You take them as they are, like you take on street food – raw, in your face, and natural. Their rendition of Teeth’s Laklak, to the tune of Rodel Naval’s “Lumayo Ka Man Sa Akin”, was downright hilarious.

Just when I was wondering where the girls were – in a concert that seeks to protect women -- a girl-band named Duster burst in. Okay, pardon my ignorance, but I’ve never heard them play so I was kinda trying to place their music. I suppose if you have Myrene Academia (Sandwich bass player) spearheading the band, then maybe they are on to greater heights. That night, they also had award-winning music video director, Marie Jamora, on synths, which I thought was cool. I think they projected well – the lead singer has a Bjorkish appeal sans the weird outfit. Next performer was Kitchie Nadal who played her popular soap opera ditties. At some point, I thought she was more interested in throwing away those pink EXIT bracelets than singing. By then, Patty was already lying on her back and inching closer to dreamland.

By now, I need to interject that the band performances were broken by spiels of the concert hosts, Kat Alano (who spoke fluent Tagalog) and Epi Quizon. It was good to hear that the messages centered on prevention of trafficking in general, covering both sex trafficking and trafficking for bonded labor. All throughout the show, they kept stating that it is okay to pursue dreams, to go abroad for work, but care must be taken in realizing these plans and dreams. ‘Be informed’, ‘know your rights’ -- were the core messages that resonated throughout the evening. Whether these messages would be taken to heart by the audience, remains to be seen, though. MTV is hugely popular among young people, so it is a good avenue to raise the level of awareness of these dudes on these issues.

I must also say that by then, my butt and lower back were positively hurting from sitting too long on the concrete grounds. There was only one act left and it was the main act I had wanted to see. They had to be the last, which I suppose, proves that they are the biggest act in the local band scene today.

And it seemed surreal – people who were slouching down and lying on the ground -- all got up on their feet in unison when the opening strings to “Hallelujah” played.

To say that Bamboo is an energetic performer is an understatement. He leaps, kicks, punches the air, stomps his feet, bangs his head, and traverses the whole length of the stage. And the voice does not fail, not even once, unlike other local vocalists who perform miserably when live (will not name them, though). The crowd roared louder when they played a Rivermaya favorite, Elesi. By the third song, Bamboo was already sweating profusely (and he would, until the end of their set). You gotta give it to this guy – he really gives his all – and the same goes for his bandmates. Their latest anthem, Kailan was followed by the progressive ditty, Tatsulok, a song that Buklod or more specifically, Noel (Cabangon), used to sing in the rallies I attended way back in the 90s. Sounds like it was eons ago. So for Bamboo to put their imprint on this political classic that calls for a reversal of the prevailing socio-economic order, is something to crow about. It was great to see versatile sessionist, Wowie Posadas, doing keyboards for Masaya and also hear, albeit briefly, bassist Nathan Azarcon’s solo. And the last song they performed was Nopyi, the ultimate antidote to that major earworm sung by the famed pugilist that is currently plaguing the airwaves big-time (I don’t even know the title but the irritating chorus goes like this, ”Pilipino, Pilipino, Pilipino ang lahi ko”). What else can I say, six songs later, the crowd is thoroughly energized and invigorated. I am happy and so is Patty, who now lists Bamboo as one of her all-time favorite Pinoy musicians.