.dropcap {float:left; color:#4791d2; font-size:75px; line-height:60px; padding-top:4px; padding-right:8px; padding-left:3px; font-family:Georgia}

Google+ Followers


Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Two-Thirds of U.S. Physicians Paid By Drug & Device Companies │ Carpal Tunnel Syndrome Surgery No More Effective Than Therapy │ Don't Expect an Alzheimer's Cure from a Diabetes Drug

After turning off the T.V. last evening reasonably early, I felt unready yet to be heading straight to bed, so I decided to play just one game of FreeCell.

Naturally, a fairly tough one turned up. My intention had been to still get to bed before 11:00 p.m., but this poser kept me involved a little longer than I had projected. It was 11:10 p.m. before finally I was into bed ─ still not bad, though.

I always seem to observe my first break in sleep with a visit to the bathroom, and a drink of water; last night was no different, but I cannot recall when it was this occurred.

It was 6:01 a.m. this morning when I felt unable to easily sleep further and so chose to rise after some rather interesting dreaming ─ all of which is now lost to my memory. I didn't immediately get up, however ─ I could hear my eldest step-son Tho downstairs, still fussing about in preparation for work.

So I waited a few minutes until he had left.

As I was boiling the water for my morning's hot blend of instant coffee / cocoa powder, I heard my youngest step-son Poté's cellphone alarm sound, and smartly be turned off.

He never rose until after I was back up here to my computer. And peculiarly, just like yesterday morning, I never heard a word of conversation between him and his overnighted girlfriend. If I did not know that she was here last night when I went to bed, I would think that the 19-year-old was entirely alone.

There was considerable rain throughout much of the morning. I set up a new post at my Latin Impressions website, but I could have done considerably more with it. However, I had grown unusually sleepy, even though it was not yet 10:00 a.m.

I wanted to have some exercise in the backyard shed, but my state and the downpour of rain then in effect persuaded me to seek rest in bed for about an hour. It was sufficient to find the rain temporarily quelled; and after moving about on a few chores, I was soon able to confront that exercise, even though I was still unpleasantly sleepy.

My brunch ─ which is my first meal of the day ─ was quite heavy, and I think that I may have begun it around 12:48 p.m. I had fixed myself overmuch, and had to discipline myself to stay the course and finish what I had prepared.

The load had essentially incapacitated me. I spent some time exploring some YouTube videos, and then gave it up and sought another hour or so in bed, obeying the advice of health experts to lie upon my left side to facilitate better digestion.

This is hardly how I wish I was living my life, but the conditions I live under make anything else presently impossible. I have never won the big lottery prize I have waited most of my adult life to win; and I am unable to generate a second income online.

I am a prisoner in this house to debt ─ my reward for getting married, and later bringing my Thai wife here to Canada in May 2006, followed by her two sons in September 2008.

I have spoken of how she charged up the flight fare to a credit card in order to return to Thailand last Fall to see her mother for the first time since she was back there in March 2013. Well, I learned within the past 10 days that she also borrowed a considerable sum while over there from one of her two older sisters ─ if I remember correctly, it was 5,000 euros.

The sister has a life in Italy, although she foolishly turned down an opportunity a few years back to take out Italian citizenship.

Anyway, the pressure is being applied by the sister for Jack to make repayment.

Jack took the following three photos of flowers on, I think, November 10, 2016 ─ quite possibly in the city of Udon Thani. That is all that I can offer concerning them.

This last plant quite reminds me of a pitcher plant:

There are other photos of plants immediately after these three in Jack's collection, but they were taken just over three hours later. Thus, I will present them in a subsequent post. It was those others that gave me the impression that the photographs were taken in Udon Thani, for the three photos above shed no such clue,


Just earlier this month, there have been a spate of reports concerning a bit of a study that has learned that about two-thirds of American doctors receive some level of payment from drug and/or medical device companies ─ here are some examples of the articles:





It is odd to me why these and other reports like them have all just come out, for it was already making news a full year ago ─ note this Canadian article from March 16, 2016, at the National PostCanadian drug companies agree to divulge how much they pay doctors, health groups.
Under the U.S. law, drug companies reported US$6.45 billion in payments to physicians and hospitals in 2014, including money for research. 
More than 600,000 doctors – about two-thirds of the total – received sums ranging from a few dollars to millions of dollars.
So where have all of these tardy news services been since last year?

I have no idea if such a Canadian database as America's Open Payments has been set up, however. I sure don't know of it.


I think that the first time I ever heard of carpal tunnel syndrome (CTS) was in 1982 or 1983. A young male co-worker of mine suffered from it, but I cannot now recall if he had already gotten surgery for it, or if that was still in store.

The job was clerical in nature.

Well, a recent study has concluded that surgery yields no better results in treatment than does physical therapy (PT). These reports tell of it:





I remember ─ it must have been 15 or so years ago ─ when I was somewhat interested in Matt Furey's workout material, he flogged a programme that claimed to cure carpal tunnel syndrome in just 30 days.

I have no idea what it involved, nor if it truly was effective; but clearly, anyone undertaking the programme would have to work at it. You can't just be lazy and expect results.

I noticed just now that YouTube has various videos proclaiming to offer methods to cure CTS ─ for example, this one uploaded on August 21, 2013, has a link in the description where it is promised that free information on nine exercises to end the pain will be sent to anyone subscribing.

I didn't bother ─ I don't have CTS. But my suspicion is that the free information is only going to be a lengthy spiel selling the product, and you wil ultimately have to buy it to know just what the system really entails.

Buyer beware, I suppose.

No one wants anything to do with Alzheimer's disease, so people definitely will grasp at straws when they are involved with it.

Note the latest hubbub:


I know nothing of the drug pramlintide, but I would look elsewhere if it came to treating someone I loved ─ or even myself.

I think this more critical report on the study is probably more in line with the reality than is that first bit of praise at ScienceDaily.com:


There are some good ideas offered in that latter report. A good start for anyone's research, at any rate.


Man, I am pushed for time yet again!

Here to close today's post is a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster. Those small quarters were being rented in a house located on Ninth street, and one or two houses up from Third Avenue.
MONDAY, March 22, 1976

I got up at 8:00 a.m.

My throat was so thick with mucous during the night, I felt nearly like it was choking me.

I was going to visit Art today, but my complexion is such that I prefer not to go outdoors. I'm still coughing my head off.

At 7:25 p.m. Georgina Crown broke my resistance asunder (an April presentation).

I'll bed at 8:30 p.m.
Considering that I had been out drinking beer the evening before (with my old friend William Alan Gill, and my younger brother Mark and his girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther), and was not to bed until about 2:45 a.m., I wasn't complaining about ill effects from having been doing so. It was primarily the cold virus that had claimed me a few days before that was bringing me down.

Art Smith was an older friend of mine ─ he was in his early 40s, and loved his drink. He lived in a home he was renting, maybe eight blocks or so from my room. He was married, and had three kids ─ I adored his affectionate middle child, a sweetheart nicknamed Dee Dee (Angela was her actual name). His oldest daughter was sweet enough in her own way, too, but ─ being older ─ she was more reserved.

I was deliberately being guarded concerning Georgina Crown. What I wasn't saying was that she was a model in an April 1976 Penthouse magazine, and my idle solitude had gotten the better of me.

I should have gone to visit Art, perhaps. However, that might well have led to another late evening, and I certainly didn't need to be running myself down any more than I had already done.

So I spent the day alone, never speaking a word to a soul. 

So what's changed? It is 6:51 p.m. at this moment, and that is how I have spent today thus far. However, very soon my younger brother Mark will be home from the bar to watch some T.V. before getting himself to bed, so I will at least have whatever company he will prove to be.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

An Explanation of the Normal Thirst Mechanism │ Fainting is Commonplace? │ Gum Disease and Elevated Stroke Risk

I was comfortably to bed last evening well before 11:00 p.m. There was the usual bathroom and water-drinking break overnight at my first halt in sleep. And it was 6:02 a.m. this morning when I checked the time and decided that I should rise for the day ─ I had a couple of things I wanted to accomplish.

As I was downstairs making my morning's hot mug of an instant coffee / cocoa powder blend, I could hear the cellphone alarms occasionally sounding off from my youngest step-son Poté's bed where he and his girlfriend were asleep.

They are the sort of people who need several alarm promptings before they finally get up ─ in my view, I think the 'snooze' feature is both ridiculous, and an outright atrocity. Either bloody set the alarm for when you exactly wish to rise for the day; or go to bed earlier if you are so weak-minded that you cannot discipline yourself to get up when you should.

Disrupting one's sleep with an initial alarm when it is not the time to rise, just in order to alert yourself to the subsequent alarm or two that will then become more urgent, is actually health-damaging.

Anyway, I was back upstairs before they did get up; and by 6:30 a.m., they had gone ─ both have to start work early. And I was home alone.

I failed to get as speedy a start at the post I wanted to finally complete at my Lawless Spirit website. I always check the E-mails that have accumulated since my last check before going to bed; and too often, I become embroiled with something relating to at least one of them.

Due to the late start at that post, I had to break off early in order to start readying myself for the 1¼-mile-or-so hike to get Safe-On-Foods in Whalley to do some grocery shopping. It had been raining when I first rose this morning, but when I set off on my hike at 9:55 a.m., I was to find that the rain had recently ceased.

I was also going to cash in a lottery scratch ticket worth $2. I would be doing this at one of the lottery kiosks in Surrey Place (Central City).

My usual route to get to my destinations involves cutting through A.H.P. Matthew Park in order to reach the start of a series of enclosed walkways that allow some refuge from the city streets. But I described all of that in a couple of photos that I took and have since uploaded to a Google album, so I will post the photos and their descriptions here now and spare myself further typing.

I took this selfie at 10:07 a.m. March 21, 2017, as I was walking to take care of a couple of errands.

The wound on my left cheek is the healing results of a blocked parotid duct that first showed symptoms back on January 31 / February 1.

In just a few days, the swelling resembled a boiled egg; within 10 days, it was the size of a very large orange or small grapefruit.

By February 9 the pain was so severe that I was forced to take Advil. The next day, I finally sought medical attention.

An abscess had formed.

For at least three weeks from that day, I was on antibiotics ─ three kinds in all. I also had medical appointments every day, for all but the final week of antibiotics were intravenous.

I had even undergone two CT-Scans, but I balked at submitting to a third.

The tissue below the wound itself is more inflamed than appears here; the area is still a little swollen, and quite hardened.

I only noticed yesterday that directly below the wound, an area of my beard growth is smooth ─ I hope that it is a temporary feature, and that the follicles are not permanently barren and dead. I want no bare patch there.

I always don a hood whenever I am entering a place of business because this affected area of my face is still attention-getting, but at least I have found the nerve to be outdoors in general without covering up.
I took this photo at 10:08 a.m. March 21, 2017, as I was walking to take care of a couple of errands here in the Whalley area of Surrey, B.C..

This enclosed walkway is a rather welcome break from the sidewalks along busy public roads.

Its access point for me was there in the distance where one can almost see A.H.P Matthew Elementary School; and A.H.P. Matthew Park is immediately to the right.

I had cut through the park to get to where I took the photo.

Turning about, one can work one's way all the way to 100th Avenue, just above where it undergoes a curve at Holland Park and becomes 134th Street.
Anyway, I performed both of my errands as planned, donning my hood before entering Surrey Place (Central City), and keeping it on as I continued on to do my grocery shopping at Save-On-Foods. I only removed it after I had started my return for home, first passing again through Surrey Place (Central City) ─ I removed the hood after gaining Holland Park.

There was nothing else about the outing worth mention.

After getting back home, I stayed with the post I had been working on, refusing to postpone its completion until tomorrow: Holistic Study of Geography II.

I put many hours of work into that post, but how many people will care enough about the topic to actually find and browse its numerous references?

Such is my wasted life as a blogger.

The day's outing has cost me my exercise sessions. After I had a good meal, and then sought some bed-rest around 2:30 p.m. for an hour or so, I still felt too logy to be involved in strenuous activity.

And so I have gotten to work at this post, and will remain with it until done. Tomorrow will be catch-up day where the exercise is concerned. A break does no harm, especially since it is due to the beneficial activity of walking.

By the way, I see in my selfie that the temple (or earpiece) of the Uvex S1933X Skyper Safety Eyewear that I usually wear while spending my hours at my computer ─ the glasses supposedly block eye-damaging blue rays ─ have left an imprint across my temple and above my ear. I didn't realize that the impression was so long-lasting.

Before I leave this section detailing my day, I want to add the contents of an E-mail that I sent out last night to the folks on my mailing list:
Have you ever heard of an American singer named Eva Cassidy?

Probably not.

She died on November 2, 1996 ─ at the age of 33 ─ of cancer. She didn't live long enough to score any kind of record deal, despite lots of interest.

This is a camcorder recording that a friend of hers took of her performing at the Blues Alley jazz supper club in Georgetown, DC, on the 3rd of January, 1996:

She never made it big...at least, not until two years after her death. A couple of guys responsible for playing music at BBC Radio 2 in England got hold of that recording. They started playing her songs, and she quickly became a sensation in the U.K., with albums of her music becoming top sellers.
If you would like to know a little more about Eva, a documentary of sorts on her was produced in May 2001 and broadcast by ABC's Nightline:
Someone has set up a YouTube channel under her name, if you're further interested: Eva Cassidy.

The following article is very instructive, giving a great explanation of the natural thirst mechanism, and evolving into a decent lecture on why soda or pop ─ and sports beverages and energy drinks ─ are much more damaging than the general population realize:


Apart from beer and other booze in general ─ and of course, water ─ the only beverage I still drink are my two daily hot mugs of blended instant coffee / cocoa powder.

If I lived in a rural environment where I had access to wholesome raw milk from exclusively pastured dairy cows, I would drink lots of that!


I had no idea that syncope (fainting) without any evident serious underlying cause is actually fairly common.

I can only think of one former female co-worker who once had an episode that may have been a reaction to some extra-fatty confection she indulged in to excess. And there was a chap subject to epileptic seizures.

But other than that, the only 'fainting' I am acquainted with has been attributable to excessive drinking and recreational drugs.

However, apparently it is supposed to be common ─ these two reports explain:



I don't know about you, but if I was subject to occasional fainting ─ or if a loved one of mine was so prone ─ I would have considerable concern as to why.


Just within the past few days, I included some information detailing how a study has uncovered that gum disease ─ and not even truly obvious gum disease ─ is behind an increased risk of strokes.

I have the main reference that spoke of the study ─ it was Consumer.HealthDay.com: More Evidence Ties Gum Health to Stroke Risk.

However, I want to add this further excellent discussion of the gum disease issue highlighting the stroke and several other pathological conditions that are tied to poor dental health:



I seem to be falling somewhat behind with this post, so I am going to wind it up now with this entry from my journal of 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster. I was renting my small space in a house located on Ninth Street, and one or two houses up from Third Avenue.
SUNDAY, March 21, 1976

I had difficulty falling asleep last night.

I got up at 6:30 a.m..

I've still got a bad cough.

The day held some boring moments, which were passed hibernating, or enjoying pornography, among other time-consumers.

During TV, about 5:30 p.m., Bill came for me. Mark & Cathy had their Vega destroyed in an accident in Whalley, and we were going to visit them and all go to the States.

We took my '50s' tapes; Wendy babysat, and we four hit the Flame Tavern or something in Bellingham after buying some beer in Blaine. The evening was OK.

Mark's knee is so damaged he can barely walk.

I blew $9 of my fling-for-fitness-during-April money (I'm going to blow every dollar in April on a protein diet and lose my flab and increase my musculature; may I win a lottery!).

I'll be abed about 2:45 a.m.
My old friend William Alan Gill only lived four or so blocks from me ─ he was renting a bachelor suite. He also had a telephone, so he usually knew what was going on with my younger brother Mark and Mark's girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther before I learned of it.

Also, he had a car and frequently visited them where they were sharing a rented home together on Bentley Road in Whalley. . 

Obviously we were all going to be riding in Bill's car ─ Jeanette or Mark would drive, for Bill was directionless, and a rather inattentive driver.

Jeanette had two beautiful little girls, but it seems that my young maternal cousin Wendy Halverson was hanging about and prepared to do babysitting duty. Wendy was almost a fixture there ─ probably because she wanted to get a break from her own very large household. 

I don't know if it was the same Flame Tavern, but a bit of research finds that one with such a name was likely demolished in 2001 ─ this is from HighBeam.com: Flame Tavern owners, city set for July 16 trial.(Bellingham, Washington city council sets condemnation trial date)(Brief Article)

However, after all of these years, I recall nothing of that day, let alone the darned tavern.

I am quite sure that I have uploaded some scans of photos that Mark took of his smashed-up Vega back then, but I have no time to search for them now.

Monday, March 20, 2017

A Form of Vitamin B3 Can Stop Chemo-Related Nerve Pain │ Guess What America's Third Leading Cause of Death Is? │ How to Eat

My wife Jack showed up from Vancouver last evening shortly after my brother Mark had gone upstairs to his bedroom for the night ─ so maybe around 10:30 p.m., or soon thereafter.

Eventually she decided to clean the toilet, sink, and bathtub in the upstairs bathroom. I have no idea why she picked that time of night.

I had the impression that she perhaps wanted to get to bed fairly early, but I had to wait until my own opportunity presented itself. I had turned off the T.V., and was killing time here at my computer. Jack was bouncing about from our bedroom, to the bathroom, to the kitchen downstairs.

My chance finally came when she was back into the bathroom with the door closed. I hurriedly undressed and got into bed, donning a blindfold to reduce the effect of the lamplight in the bedroom. Fortunately, I did not time things too badly, and Jack presently herself sought bed.

I made a time-check after she had turned out the light ─ I now forget the precise time, but it was definitely after 12:20 a.m.

During one of my breaks in sleep overnight, I made use of the bathroom, and also drank some water.

There came a point early in the morning when Jack had gotten up and was doing a little fussing about ─ perhaps she was just changing into her robe and slippers. When she exited and then closed the bedroom door, I checked the time and saw that it was 6:09 a.m.

My conclusion was that her lazy eldest son ─ 22-year-old Tho ─ had roused her to drive him to the SkyTrain so that he could get to work in Burnaby. He's bloody selfish like that, never concerning himself with how tired his mother might be, nor whether she will have to work later in the day herself.

After all, why should she be sleeping when lazy Tho can get a ride instead of making his own way to the SkyTrain like I had to do for so many years?

Normally I would have gotten up for the day when they left, but I was just too tired. And I was apparently back to sleep before she returned and came back to bed.

When I next checked the time, it was a little past 7:20 a.m. ─ I decided to get up then so that I could continue work upon the new post I am trying to get completed at my Lawless Spirit website. I should finally have the post finished and published tomorrow.

While I was working upon the post, I heard Jack's iPhone 6's alarm ─ it could not have been too much beyond mid-morning. I wondered if she was deliberately getting up to her alarm because she had plans to cook and take some food with her on her fourth consecutive Tuesday visit to the Thai temple (Wat Budhapanyanantarama) in Burnaby.

And that proved to be the case ─ she left here around 10:45 a.m.

She would have decent driving weather, for the morning has been somewhat sunny, although I have heard that some rain is expected later today ─ certainly clouds. Yet just as last night, the temperatures are expected to sink to the freezing point overnight.

The day's high has been projected to possibly reach 12º Celsius.

I have a package of Swiss Chard seeds that were given to me last year when I was walking through Holland Park on some errand. Perhaps I will sow them at some point this weekend...or maybe wait until next Monday when I have Jack stay overnight again, if she indeed does so.

It can be bothersome having her around if I allow myself to dwell upon our relationship. By way of illustration as to what I mean, she has not said as many as 50 words to me in total since coming home last evening.

I make an occasional attempt to offer some 'small talk,' but it rarely fetches more than a word or two in response out of her.

It's a bugger being so helplessly in debt that I can do nothing about matters except suffer them through to whatever finale lies ahead.

I might as well post a couple of photos from Jack's trip back home to her family village of Nong Soong, just a 15-or-so-minute drive from the city of Udon Thani. Jack had not seen her mother since the early part of March 2013, so she charged up the fare to fly back to Thailand.

I am just about certain that the home shown in the two photos is Jack's family home, for this is precisely how I remember the tiled area just before the front door ─ I often sat where the woman in the photos is sitting.

The woman is someone whom my wife always referred to as being her "sister-cousin":


I was unaware that some people undergoing chemotherapy as a cancer treatment can experience a debilitating condition called chemotherapy-induced peripheral neuropathy (CIPN), "a progressive, enduring, and often irreversible condition featuring pain, numbness, tingling and sensitivity to cold in the hands and feet (sometimes progressing to the arms and legs) that afflicts between 30% and 40% of patients undergoing chemotherapy."

Reportedly a form of vitamin B3 ─ nicotinamide riboside ─ has been proving itself as very effective in preventing the condition. Or at least, such was the case in a recent study with rats.

Here are some reports about the finding:




It is mentioned in that first report that one of the researchers ─ Charles Brenner, PhD ─ is deeply affiliated with a pharmaceutical company that produces nicotinamide riboside. In fact, he involves himself with doing research to prove the value of this variant of vitamin B3.

If you are interested in learning what he has previously found out concerning it, refer to this October 10, 2016, article at edcom.uiowa.edu: First human clinical trial for nicotinamide riboside.


Have you any idea what the third leading cause of death is in the U.S.?

According to a recent study, the third leading cause of death appears to be medical misdiagnoses. Imagine!

I wonder how this sort of determination would pan out here in Canada or other countries ─ surely the American medical profession cannot be that uniquely bumbling and careless?

Read about it for yourself in these two articles:



Mention was made that this epidemic of diagnostic error has been known for at least four years ─ I located these two reports about this dreadful situation from back in 2013:
I found that OpenNotes project to be most interesting, but I have no idea if there is anything like it elsewhere in the world. I would love to have access to all of my past medical records.

The Wikipedia article I linked to gives the OpenNotes website as myopennotes.org, but that didn't work for me. Some research found it instead as opennotes.org.

I can only see this as feasible if it was strictly online material. It just strikes me as highly improbable that anyone could get their medical information as physical copies of records ─ someone would have to pay for all of those printed pages!


Do you consciously appreciate your meals when you are partaking of them? We often just eat mechanically, with little thought about what we are doing.

For one thing, we should not bother eating if we are upset. Stress has no place at the table, and should always be made unwelcome.

Perhaps you can benefit to some degree from the following short article:


I only rarely have a meal while not deeply involved in something else ─ such as watching T.V. One of my other pastimes while eating is to be playing FreeCell on my computer.

Whether or not doing either of these while eating is detracting from the full benefit of a meal is unknown to me. However, I do know that too often while I am eating and watching T.V., my drunken younger brother Mark's black spirit has a heavily negative impact, and I probably should not try and eat around him when he is in that state.

But I need to eat. I do it but twice a day.

I guess it just points up that each of us cannot comport ourselves in the most ideal and beneficial fashion at all times. We can but try to meet that optimal criteria, and at least be mindful of it even when we are failing to achieve it.


My wife Jack was back from the Thai temple shortly after 3:00 p.m., and in somewhat a better mood. At least she twice engaged me with separate topics that she actually originated ─ it was a distinct improvement.

She did further cooking for the rest of us; and by 5:40 p.m. had left to return to Vancouver. By then the day had become quite overcast.

Today is the first day of Spring, by the way.

Here is how my day fared precisely 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster. I was renting it in a private house located on Ninth Street, and one or two houses up from Third Avenue.
SATURDAY, March 20, 1976

I ended my night about 7:00 a.m. I discovered a couple of inches of snow on the ground.

Since Tuesday, I guess, I've had a throat problem causing the occasional cough, but yesterday it worsened; my throat is thick with mucous, and post-nasal drainage while bedded was pretty thick.

And today is the first day of spring.

I managed to perform 50 leg raises, though I felt the stress on my internal incision mounting. I still find it too much a strain to do push-ups.

Several hours (2) after my leg raises, I noticed pain to the right of the last reaches of my abdominal wall just superior to my penile shaft; it brought imaginings of a hernia to mind, but probably it's mere muscle pain.

I've been beset by some heavy coughing fits today.

I spent a couple hours in bed due to coldness and boredom, and I guess I did sleep a little.

I'll bed at 9:20 p.m.
I had spent 12 days of February/March in the hospital after having an emergency appendectomy to mop up a busted appendix ─ or at least, it was on the twelfth day that I was discharged. And for a couple of days after that, I had a drainage tube still protruding from the incision so that infectious matter could seep out into bandaging.

It may have been March 6 before I had my first full tube-free day, so that would have been when the full healing of the incision was beginning where that tube had been. Thus, to be performing 50 leg raises just about exactly two weeks later is rather commendable, I suppose.

Obviously I had a very quiet Spring day in 1976. I never left my room, so I also never spoke to a soul. I had no connected telephone, although there was a unit in my room. I just could not afford telephone service.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

☠ 💀 Osteoporosis Drugs Found to Cause Bone Micro-Cracks │ Weight Gain Is Among the Ills of Artificial Sweeteners │ Shock Away a Migraine Onset

Although I made no mention yesterday of coming under the wicked spell, my base weakness to successfully struggle against negative addictive impulses won out and I surrendered myself to it all.

Hours were lost over the course of the late afternoon and into the second half of the evening. I managed a temporary break to watch some T.V. via the Android TV Box, while having a small supper and a can of strong (8% alcohol) beer; but unwilling to betake myself directly to bed as I had so hoped, I again released myself into the clutch of punishing despair.

The slide was long. In fact, it was 2:00 a.m. before I finally put myself to bed for what night I was to have there. It was 6:41 a.m. when I next checked the time and decided that I might as well rise and get to work on the new post I have been putting together for over a week now at my Lawless Spirit website. I knew it unlikely that I would be venturing forth to do the grocery shopping I had hoped to get done at the supermarket I often frequent about 1¼ miles distant.

No one was home when I retired last night, yet I could see Poté's car in the driveway after I went downstairs to make my morning's mug of hot blended instant coffee/cocoa powder.

Incidentally, I limited myself to the one can of beer last evening ─ a trend that has now been in play for over a month, I believe. I had taken two cans with me to the living room, but I returned the second one to my supply beneath my bed when I was done with television.

A couple of evenings ago, the T.V. news predicted that today was to be sunny. Yet ere 8:30 a.m., I could hear rain starting to fall.

I wanted to try and get in some exercise out in the backyard shed before my younger brother Mark returned home after spending the night at the home of his girlfriend Bev, so in the vicinity of 9:00 a.m. I broke from that post work to change into cut-offs and head on out to the small shed.

I discovered that it was not just raining. The backyard sundeck was slippery with what I presumed to be some rather crunchy hail. But I was also to soon realize that there was wet snow in that icy rain.

The exercise was somewhat disappointing in that I felt unnaturally heavy, and as a consequence I found some exercise sets reduced in repetition totals. Nevertheless, I did not let it discourage me, and I remained at it until I had done what I came there to do.

Once I was back to work at the website post, it was not too long ─ possibly not much beyond 9:30 a.m. ─ that the rain sounded like it was abating. Anon, I was to realize that the precipitation had most definitely not stopped. All it had done was turn into full snow.

Thankfully, it was short-lived ─ a half-hour at best. And soon one could not even tell that there had been snow.

I did well with the post work this morning. I put more than what would normally serve as a day's effort into it; and I may try to add further content yet, depending when I finish my post here. After all, I suspect that my wife Jack will show up from Vancouver late this evening to spend the night, and that makes finding the time to put in a day's usual website effort rather difficult. Thus, whatever extra work I can supply Lawless Spirit today will dramatically lighten tomorrow's burden.

Mark arrived home this morning around 10:30 a.m. And while he was showering, I put together what was to be today's first meal ─ I tend to eat but twice a day, without any snacking.

Soon after I had consumed it, the noon hour had arrived. Mark had just resorted to his bedroom awhile before, most likely to seek a nap. Very early into the noon hour, I did the same, spending a good hour in bed.

I rose to find Mark gone, and Poté finally up.

That precipitation ─ it was finished late in the morning, and the cloud cover was starting to break up somewhat. When I rose from my nap, I could see lots of blue sky out there.

But let's return to talk of far better weather ─ specifically, as in yesterday's post when I offered a number of photos taken when some kind of special meal was getting set up in or near Nong Soong, my wife Jack's home village in Thailand.

Nong Soong isn't more than maybe a 15-minute drive from the city of Udon Thani.

I believe that these photos were taken on November 8, 2016. However, that is impossible to pin right down, for Jack's camera's date settings had not likely been changed for the trip ─ and Thailand is more than a half-day ahead of us here in B.C.

In addition to that, I do not even know if the camera's time settings had yet been changed to reflect last Fall's time change from Pacific Daylight Time to Pacific Standard Time when we lost an hour ─ quick research shows that this may have taken place on November 6.

So there are three variables making it impossible to know precisely just when it was that the photos were actually taken.

The woman in the first two photos is someone my wife Jack has always referred to as being Jack's "sister-cousin":

Hong Thong whisky is apparently brewed from molasses and rice, and is 35% alcohol:

Here is Jack having fun with the bottle:

"Sister-cousin" again, getting that meal all set up for those present to enjoy:

My wife Jack posing at that table:

Nest up, Jack's "sister-cousin" at the left; the central woman is unfamiliar to me; and the woman at the right so nearly resembles Jack's mother that I am inclined to suggest that it is the mother's sister. Oddly, Google's face recognition feature suggests that it is indeed Jack's mother ─ yet it bases that identification upon an old photo of the mother from back when Jack was a girl. Thus, it might still be the mother's sister, I suppose ─ neither is ruled out:

Darn ─ maybe it really is Jack's mother ─ it looks much more like here at the left in this next photo. The man walking past in the background is Jack's only surviving brother, Santi:

Here is Jack's brother Santi again:

Again, Jack's "sister-cousin" at the left; a woman unfamiliar to me in the centre; and potentially Jack's mother at the right:

My wife Jack at the right is the only woman I can identify in the next two shots:

And I shall stop here for today.


I have already posted within the past few days about the recent study which found that women taking bisphosphonates to address osteoporosis have been shown to have previously undetected micro-fractures that are attributed to the medications, but I want to add these two further references to that study:



I cannot speak for that last report's recommendation about growth hormone. My previous post offered this HSIonline.com's recommendations instead: Study finds popular bone drugs actually cause fractures.

There is also this:



Do you have artificial sweeteners in your household, or do you or others in your family consume beverages sweetened with these things?

If so, and the reason for it is because of weight control or calorie restriction, then you are being royally duped.

I am just going to refer you to the following article ─ I forsook artificial sweeteners some years ago, so I don't need to delve back into the topic:



Although I am sometimes prone to the often debilitating migraine halo or aura, I do not actually get the headache itself.

But for those folks who do, there is reportedly a gadget that might make it to market that helps at least one out of two migraine sufferers stop their attack if it is used promptly at first onset of symptoms.

These reports tell of it, and the study behind it:





The afternoon has become very sunny. If I was not in thralldom to the fruitless pursuit of a second income online via blogging, I could have been out in the backyard soaking up some of those healing rays. There is no breeze.

I heard a 4:30 p.m. weather report that proclaimed we are to expect temperatures to drop down to the freezing level overnight. I hope none of the flower plants that my wife Jack transplanted last Monday will be harmed.  

I am going to close out now with an entry from my journal of 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster. I was renting the modest appointment in a house located on Ninth Street, and one or two houses up from Third Avenue. 

I had been out drinking with my younger brother Mark and his girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther the evening before at the Flamingo Hotel in Whalley ─ Mark and Jeanette only lived a couple of blocks from that place.

They had tried to convince me to spend the night at their home, but I was feeling somewhat dizzy from the drink, and did not want to have to make my way home in the morning ─ I preferred to get it over with at night while I was still full of drunken vigour, and had the dark to keep me anonymous.

I wrote that it was 2:15 a.m. by the time I was in my bed.

Despite that, my plan for this new day was to hike out to visit my mother Irene Dorosh in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey. The little house she shared with her husband Alex no longer exists, but its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue. It was my main mailing address.

To hike there from my room usually took about 1½ hours of fairly fast walking.
FRIDAY, March 19, 1976

I guess I got up at 9:00 a.m., but didn't sleep much before that. I wonder how working Mark feels?

I left for mom's before 10:00 a.m., finding she'd gone out with Kay.

My mail this mainly sunny day was a postal ad, a book ad from Parker Publishing Co. Inc., and my ordered stamps, 25 of which I gave mom in exchange for Tuesday's Kin Win ticket.

Cathy phoned while mom was out, and we spoke some while before mom got home and took over. Cathy invited me to join her & Mark for whatever they chose to do, but I declined.

Mom had a card saying there was a parcel for her at the post office, so she left afoot to get it while I bathed. As we'd thought, it was cheese we'd collaborated on; but the contents were most disappointing, and I'll not order again.

Mom said David Prince phoned Sunday night about me, having heard of my operation and believing I was still hospitalized.

I overate today, but on pretty good fare; still, calories of any source are calories.

I stayed to get a ride with Kay when she and mom left for work, being let off on Royal just past 7th St.

Yesterday at Mark's I saw the New Year's party pictures; I'm pleased with the 2 of me.

I'd planned to retire peacefully tonight, but about 7:15 p.m. Bill came all hot to get some chicken and go boozing, but I persuaded him out of us risking the group at Nell's or the beer parlours on our own. So we watched TV at his place till 11:00 p.m.

I had 6 pieces of Kentucky chicken, a pint of Royal Hawaiian ice cream, an orange, and a Mr. Pibbs, all at dear Bill's expense. 

Bed will be by 11:30 p.m.
Kay Kris or Krys was a friend of my mother's, and also her partner in an evening office janitorial contract they had going.

I frequently ordered commemorative postage stamps just to use on my letters, for I found the common definitives to be too darned boring and commonplace. I did a lot of mailing.

My mother must have given me a Kin Win Lottery ticket, so I passed on half of my commemorative stamps to her.

Jeanette phoned while my mother was out with Kay. Jeanette and I could talk for an incredibly long time on the phone ─ I adored that beautiful young mother of two daughters. The three of them were dearly loved by my mother and Alex, so Jeanette always felt comfortable about calling or visiting them.

I was wrong about calories being calories ─ some sources are indeed far worse than others.

David Prince was an old friend whom I had known since we both were in Grade VIII at Newton Junior High School in Surrey during the 1962/1963 school term. The surgery he was wondering about was a serious appendectomy I had undergone ─ I was not released from hospital until into my twelfth day; and even then, a home care nurse came by for at least a couple of days to change the surgical bandaging, for I had a tube protruding from the incision to allow drainage of infectious matter.

I was just getting back into long walks once again.

The ride back to New Westminster that had me disembark at Royal Avenue and nearly Seventh Street was practically like getting driven home  Or at least, it was a mere four blocks from where I lived.

My old friend William Alan Gill also lived in New Westminster ─ perhaps four or so blocks from me, in a bachelor suite he was renting. He could be amazingly spontaneous about doing things. It sounds as if he wanted us to head off into Surrey to my maternal Aunt Nell Halverson's home to party with her large household ─ those parties generally ran the full weekend. One had to be prepared for what one was getting into, so I managed to talk Bill out of it.

I'm unsure what justification I used in order to avoid us going to one of the hotel beer parlours or pubs. Maybe just the drinking and driving risk? 

But let's return to the present ─ it is still so very sunny outside at nearly 5:30 p.m.

Just a short time ago I took a break from this post to try and locate some old E-mails that I thought I had saved from the time that I first met my wife Jack in January 2003 in Thailand ─ my first trip there. I was unable to find them, but I never checked all that thoroughly ─ Poté had gone out earlier, and I didn't want to be caught downstairs if he returned with his girlfriend. I prefer avoiding them.

However, I did find an enormous collection of E-mails that I had printed out from back in late 1999 and into the early 2000s that featured ladies I had been in touch with through free online personals advertisements ─ they were women from far afield, of course. I might start reproducing some of that correspondence here in my blog.

I am still somewhat in contact with a couple of those women, both of whom were in Russia back then. One now lives in California, and the other here in B.C.

I'll have to think about this.