My wife Jack showed up early last evening from Vancouver ─ or was it late afternoon? ─ just before I had yet published the day's post here.
What a fabulous supper she made! I ate so well ─ my first meal of the day!
Around 8:00 p.m. she announced that she was going out to pick up her 19-year-old son Pote from work over at Guildford. By then it was miserably cold again, with our local streets packed hard with frozen snow, and the ice from melted snow.
I can barely stand how pampered her two sons are. My mommy never had to go driving anywhere to pick me up at the age of 19. I walked. And back then, there was not the convenient ease of busing that there is today.
And as I feared, when she returned an hour or more later, it was with Pote's girlfriend, too.
Jack wasn't home for much more than a half-hour before it was evidently time for her to leave again to return to Vancouver ─ I had been expecting that she would be spending the night.
It would have been better for me had she stayed.
Had I been sensible, I believe that it might have been possible for me to get to bed ahead of 11:00 p.m. But no. The crassly base element within me took charge and I sat in decadent waste here at my computer, not getting to bed until 1:46 a.m.
There is far too much that is toxic about my life here, constrained and isolated like a caged animal.
At least Pote's girlfriend did not spend the night ─ perhaps they only needed a 'quickie.' While I was sitting here in my resistance to bed, I heard him take his older brother Tho's car and drive off with her, later returning by himself.
Somehow, I slept unusually well. I slept soundly until I became aware that it was brightly daylit outside. A check of the clock revealed it to be 7:52 a.m., if I am remembering correctly.
There would be little snow melt today ─ it was too cold for that. I attempted some further shoveling of the icy mass clinging to the driveway, but gave up after a short while. There needs to be some warming of the concrete to loosen the hold of the ice.
I will give it another go soon ─ it is 3:07 p.m. at this moment. Perhaps there has been some melt in the steady sunshine by now.
I never put in the amount of work that I should have at the new post I commenced on Sunday at one of my six hosted websites ─ my start at it was just too late into the morning. But confounding my work was the fact that when I logged into my WordPress dashboard, I saw that there were updates ─ including a latest version of WordPress.
So I installed it ─ and then discovered that the idiots who devised the new version forgot to include the means of full-justifying the text in the editor field.
Now I have to manually place the 'full justify' coding myself throughout the post as I add content.
For anyone who doesn't know, text that is full-justified is how I like my posts in this blog to appear ─ the sentences stretch evenly right across a page. It is the format used in newspapers and magazines.
While I was working, Pote gave me hope of having some of the day to myself when he took off in Tho's car just ahead of 11:00 a.m. ─ "Please, let him be going to work," I hoped!
But early into the noon-hour, he was back ─ with his girlfriend.
They were soon in bed.
However, they have since risen and have now (3:10 p.m.) taken off in Tho's car. My hope is that Pote has to work this latter afternoon and into the evening, and that the pair have not just nipped out for some junk food or something similar.
I do not want them here. I feel foul enough.
But on to something else now.
As I have often explained in recent posts, my wife Jack had gone back to Thailand to visit her mother and other family in Nong Soong, which is very near to Udon Thani.
She left Canada ─ not late the evening of October 24 as I had thought ─ but on a 1:30 a.m. or so flight early October 25. She returned the early evening of November 21.
I got confirmation from Jack last evening that she and some of her family and friends did indeed take free passage on a train from Udon Thani in order to be present for the viewing of their late King Bhumibol Adulyadej's funeral urn in the Grand Palace in Bangkok.
The Grand Palace was made open to the public early the morning of October 29 as this BBC.com news account tells: Thai King Bhumibol: Mourners allowed into Grand Palace.
Jack never made it into the Grand Palace, despite standing in line since something like 6:30 a.m. The doors were closed to the public with many apologies at 8:00 p.m.
But at least her mother was able to get in.
I believe the viewings would resume the next day, but Jack was no longer interested in standing in another line-up.
As I also correctly surmised, volunteers had set up a great encampment of tented facilities to provide free provisions for the thousands who had assembled.
I have previously posted quite a few photos that Jack had taken on that day. I will now post some more of the area where provisions were being provided for the people:
I cannot quite make out if these three people in the next photo are part of Jack's group or not ─ the angle is too extreme for me to be sure of any identification:
I am unsure if the chap at the bottom right corner is part of Jack's group or not ─ he has some vague familiarity to me:
Everyone here are anonymous to me ─ unless otherwise stated:
And so the photos go ─ this will have to do for today's post.
There doesn't seem anything scary about this headline and very brief article, does there?
Heck, it might even appear to be good news for type-2 diabetics!
However, read past the light saccharine treatment given in that brief announcement and have a look at this report:
Xultophy's makers, Novo Nordisk, have their own November 21 press release: Novo Nordisk Receives FDA Approval for Xultophy® 100/3.6 (insulin degludec and liraglutide injection).
But scroll 'way down that page and take a gander at the risks and warnings ─ most folks would probably have skipped that part.
Apart from kidney failure and pancreatitis, they admit:
...May cause heart failure in some people. This can happen even if you have never had heart failure or heart problems before. If you already have heart failure, it may get worse....
Really? If it can cause heart failure in people who have never had heart problems before, then how dense does someone have to be to not realize that if heart failure is already present, it might get worse?
Anyone considering Xultophy really ought to study this report at DailyMed.nlm.nih.gov. After all, not many doctors have the time or inclination to read that stuff, either. They just rely on what the drug-sellers tell them.
But it's your life at risk ─ not some busy doctor's.
It certainly stands to reason for me that a senior with Alzheimer's disease who suffers a hip fracture would stay in a hospital longer than someone with no cognitive impairment.
Nevertheless, that finding was amongst those uncovered in a study of benzodiazepine users with and without Alzheimer's disease.
As the article I linked to at Wikipedia says, benzodiazepines are prescribed for people because the drugs are "useful in treating anxiety, insomnia, agitation, seizures, muscle spasms, alcohol withdrawal and as a premedication for medical or dental procedures."
This is a report on the study:
Folks with no cognitive impairment have enough trouble coping with the effects of such drugs ─ no one has any business prescribing them for someone with Alzheimer's disease. It's just a lazy, shortcut means of keeping that person sedated until he or she finally dies and is no longer a bother.
Once more, we can turn to the Health Sciences Institute (HSI) for a deeper and more realistic look at that study's results:
As is warned, even the non-cognitively-impaired can have their thinking seriously affected by these medications. And the ugly truth is that just suddenly abstaining from them is dangerous, since they are addicting.
What do we get ourselves into? We are NOT living better chemically!
People who are compulsively concerned about their blood pressure ought to read this article by Dr. Marc S. Micozzi:
I remember being told once during a physical examination back in the 1980s that my blood pressure was a little high (I was in my 30s), but I wasn't concerned. I was an avid exerciser and runner.
I have only ever tested myself once with one of those cuffs available in some pharmacies for folks to test their own blood pressure, but I only experimented with it because my younger brother Mark occasionally used it and wanted me to give it a try.
I have no idea now what the reading was.
I don't care. And I have no idea why most people fret so much about their own blood pressure readings.
Well, Pote must have gone to work ─ it is now 5:54 p.m., and he has not returned since leaving here shortly after 3:00 p.m. this afternoon.
I got out to try some further driveway shoveling before it was yet 4:00 p.m., but there was no discernible melt of the ice allowing me to easily break its hold on the concrete.
I managed some clearing, and then called it a day.
Every little bit helps.
I am going to close now with a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.
I was renting the small affair in a house located on Ninth Street, one or two houses up from Third Avenue.
I had gone to bed the evening prior to this entry at 7:00 p.m.
SUNDAY, December 7, 1975
I must have caught up on a great deal of sleep, for I didn't arise till about 4:00 a.m., even though I had been lying in bed awhile awake.
About 7:30 a.m. I lied down to nap, not finally arising till 9:00 a.m. as I luxuriated in many delightful and fanciful impressions.
At noon I was going to bake bread, but my sketchy recollection of the recipe combined with my poor selection of equipment induced me to postpone the venture until Thursday if I am able to obtain what I require from mom Wednesday; still, there is a chance I might get into the business today if Bill shows up with an enthusiasm so directed ─ but I doubt this.
I lied down again from about 12:30 p.m. - 2:00 p.m.; I don't know if I slept any, but I did attain a deep restful state.
Bed at 9:00 p.m.
Did I not leave my room at all that day, nor speak to a soul? I had no telephone.
My old friend William Alan Gill lived in a bachelor suite maybe three or four blocks from my room. We had previously arranged together to bake bread from scratch at my mother Irene Dorosh's home when she and her husband Alex were away to visit Reno, but Bill got distracted and had to beg off.
I persevered, and had an amazing outcome ─ my first try at baking yeast-raised bread.
Reading that account of my day confirms just how alone I have been for so much of my life. Even today, though I am married, and have two adult stepsons and my younger brother Mark living in this house, I still feel mostly alone.
Sometimes I miss having friends ─ someone to drink with other than my too-often already besotted brother.
But this fruitless life appears to be what God wills for me. I will not live it into my 70s, however, if nothing changes for the positive.