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Sunday, June 14, 2015

Independent Scientists Manifesto on Glyphosate │ Fenugreek Can Improve Female Sexual Disinterest │ Tramadol Warning

An E-mail I was crafting late last evening kept me up until shortly after midnight.  But I had watched T.V. later than I usually do, so that was also a contributor to my late bedtime.

The Summer-like weather continues.

I spent much of the morning working on a post that I published at my Lawless Spirit website:  Las Vegas Holistic Doctors II.

Had I not needed to go and resupply myself with beer yesterday, I might have attempted to complete and publish the post that day instead.  However, my life is such that I need my evening tippling.

When my younger brother Mark came home around 9:45 a.m. this morning from his girlfriend Bev's home, he wasted no time in getting outside and doing some weed-eating, while also pulling out various morning glory vines and other larger weeds.

I took these two photos of him while he was at work with the weed-eater in the backyard:



The wretched hound beyond our backyard fence threw up quite a racket of baying at Mark's activities ─ I haven't the least doubt that it was most irritating for Mark.  We both hate and detest the dog ─ we also detest its owners who do absolutely nothing to curb the animal's noise.

I even took a couple of photos of Mark after he was at work in our front yard ─ the first photo shows him pulling up some so-called weeds that included a mint plant which had managed to survive his prior routs of plants he deems to be weeds requiring removal:



There are times that I just wish Mark would restrict himself to pulling out morning glories ─ he has little botanical understanding, and once pulled out a plant with small yellow flowers that a co-worker gave me back in 2010, or maybe even 2009.

I don't bother saying anything to the guy because it just makes him surly that his hard work is being critiqued.

Mark afterwards came into the house to shower ─ during which time my eldest step-son Tho got up from his bed with his girlfriend, and drove off with her; and then Mark spent some time downstairs reading the Sunday morning Province newspaper.

I was a little surprised that he left around the middle of the noon-hour without a word ─ we had never exchanged aught but a 'good-morning' when he first got home and was going to his bedroom.

Tho came back home soon after Mark had gone, and himself got busy with mowing the lawn late in the noon-hour ─ I took these three photos of him in the front yard:




He later showered ─ I could hear him talking to his mother on the cellphone just prior to the shower.

His younger brother Pote got out of bed early in the afternoon, and soon took off.

And then so did Tho.

Towards 2:00 p.m. as I was working upon this post, some car-honking heralded the arrival home from Vancouver of my wife Jack.

She had a fair load of produce she needed help with ─ when she asked about her sons, I kidded her that she must have let them know that she was coming, for they had both taken off.

I think she was mildly amused, for they apparently did indeed know that she was coming home.

Pote finally came home in time to interact with her, but Tho never did.

Jack busied herself cooking up some great fare that's going to spare me from having another peanut-butter sandwich today for a meal.

By 3:45 p.m., she had left to return to Vancouver.

It's not yet 4:00 p.m. as I type this ─ I'm going to break now and take some sun out in the backyard.

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I got in at least 30 minutes of frontal sunning.  And now I'm having a nice big mug of my special instant coffee/cocoa powder blend, sweetened with honey, demerara brown sugar, and blackstrap molasses ─ and creamed with whipping cream (the actual cream, not the whipped stuff).

I know my brother Mark has used a glyphosate-containing weed-killer on dandelions the yard persists in growing.  It is generally in my mind as I walk about out there barefooted.

The following was sent to me six days ago:

Independent Scientists Manifesto on Glyphosate
More than 80 scientists worldwide are calling on governments at all levels to ban the spraying of glyphosate herbicides, based on overwhelming evidence of harm from scientific studies and witness testimonies compiled by the group.

The World Health Organization’s recent reclassification of glyphosate as probable human carcinogen is only a small part of the known toxicity of glyphosate herbicides. Chronic exposure to glyphosate herbicides is associated not only with cancers but also with “infertility, impotence, abortions, birth defects, neurotoxicity, hormonal disruption, immune reactions, an unnamed fatal kidney disease, chronic diarrhoea, autism and other ailments.”

Furthermore, glyphosate herbicides are linked to more than 40 new and re-emerging major crop diseases, and causing harm to the entire food web, including plants, beneficial microbes in the soil, fish and other aquatic life, amphibians, butterflies, bees, birds, mammals, and the human microbiome.

The Manifesto is open for signing by scientists and endorsement by non-scientists, and can be found here: http://www.i-sis.org.uk/Independent_Scientists_Manifesto_on_Glyphosate.php.

Please share widely with your friends/colleagues, and on social media.
I am not a scientist, but I did sign.

Also six days ago, I received two reports I want now to post.

The first should be of interest to any women who have noticed their interest in sexual activity to be waning ─ it is from Dr. William Campbell Douglass II reporting on a recently-published study:

Ladies, heat things up in the bedroom with this ancient herb
When men can't "do it" the cause is obvious: a banana that behaves more like the peel.

For ladies, the problem isn't as obvious. You can't SEE it... but you can FEEL it.

Or, rather, you CAN'T feel it -- you can't feel a thing -- because in women, the most common form of sexual dysfunction is lack of desire.

This isn't just a matter of "not in the mood." This is when your libido packs its bags and takes off, and it seems like nothing you or your spouse does will convince it to come home.

But if you're among the half of all women who battle sexual dysfunction, I'm here to help you get your mojo back with a safe and natural remedy proven to boost sexual function by just about every measure.

And it just might be an "old friend" that you turned to at another point in your life.

Fenugreek extract has been used for centuries as a natural aid to increase breast milk during lactation. If you took it yourself, maybe you noticed the "urge" to go make some more babies at the time.

New research shows how it wasn't just your post-pregnancy libido kicking in back then. It was that fenugreek, because the 8-week study finds 600 mg per day of fenugreek extract can restore your sex drive, increase your libido and satisfaction and even make it easier to achieve orgasm.

The secret is in the saponins, which help your body to stimulate production of the "sex hormones" estrogen and testosterone. Unlike actual hormone therapy, your own body is doing the work and producing the hormones on its own.

In other words, there's almost no risk of getting too much and suffering the embarrassing side effects of excess testosterone such as a mustache, a deep voice and affinity for summer action flicks.

All of the women in the study were under the age of 49, so I'd like to see more research before I declare fenugreek extract the next big thing in sexual health for older women. But since it's perfectly safe, you can take matters into your own hands and conduct some informal research of your own.

By the way, this stuff is also great for men. Consider it a his-and-hers supplement you can take together.

Fenugreek can come with some side effects, but in general they're not serious. The main one that comes to mind may even be considered a positive by some, a maple syrup odor. So maybe when you've satisfied your appetite for sex, you'll find yourself with an appetite for pancakes.

Bringing sexy back,

William Campbell Douglass II, M.D.
Maybe I will have to keep this substance in mind ─ certainly so if it is in any way a treatment for erectile dysfunction.

I located the official publication, but only the abstract or summary is available for free to the general public:  Influence of a Specialized Trigonella foenum-graecum Seed Extract (Libifem), on Testosterone, Estradiol and Sexual Function in Healthy Menstruating Women, a Randomised Placebo Controlled Study (DOI: 10.1002/ptr.5355).

However, if you badly enough would like to see the full published study, three of the authors do have it available for free at their profiles on website ResearchGate.net ─ just click on an author's name:  Amanda Rao; Elizabeth Steels; or Luis Vitetta.

Another report about the study is available at nutraingredients.comFenugreek extract may boost woman’s healthy sexual desire: Human RCT .

The second report I have is from the Health Sciences Institute (HSI) warning against a very dangerous painkiller that should not be on the market ─ it shouldn't even exist, as far as I am concerned:

A bitter pill
When John Bowker left his 57-year-old wife, Lizz, alone in their bedroom, she seemed to be in perfectly good health.

But when he returned just six minutes later, she was dead.

It wasn't some sudden heart attack, stroke or aneurysm that killed Lizz. In just six minutes she had become another victim of tramadol, a dangerous opiate pain med that's so cheap and widely prescribed that you or someone you love could be taking it right now.

Tramadol is sending patients -- many of them seniors -- to emergency rooms in record numbers, and death rates have tripled in just a few short years.

Now experts are warning that if you don't quit the drug fast, it could trigger a serious brain condition that's often nearly impossible to spot.

One that could turn fatal in a hurry.

When the FDA approved tramadol 20 years ago, it was supposed to be less addictive and cause fewer stomach problems than the other long-term painkillers on the market.

But in reality, tramadol (aka Ultram, Ultracet, ConZip, Ryzolt and Rybix ODT) has proven to be a living nightmare for many of those to whom it was prescribed.

The U.S. Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) has found that tramadol is sending at least 27,000 people a year to the ER -- a number that's increased 145 percent since 2005. And research on tramadol use in Florida found that deaths linked to the drug have tripled since 2003.

And tramadol seems to pose the greatest danger to seniors -- the very people the drug most intended to help.

One of those victims was an 84-year-old woman whose doctor prescribed tramadol for lower back pain. Before long, she was suffering from common side effects like shortness of breath, confusion, depression, anxiety, loss of appetite, and very high blood pressure -- which eventually landed her in the ER.

But, believe it or not, she was one of the lucky tramadol patients.

According to Peter Delany, director of SAMHSA's Center for Behavioral Health Statistics, tramadol can cause seizures or a potentially fatal reaction known as serotonin syndrome when it interacts with other drugs like antidepressants (which are common among people with chronic pain).

Serotonin syndrome is caused by excess production of the brain chemical serotonin, which is most often associated with a positive mood. Only in this instance, it may be way too much of a good thing.

Among the symptoms of serotonin syndrome are rapid heartbeat, sweating, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, uncontrollable tremors, confusion, high blood pressure, hallucinations and coma.

And, in some cases, death.

Yet, because of all the confusing symptoms that can accompany serotonin syndrome, many doctors still don't recognize when it's right in front of them.

And even if a daily dose of tramadol doesn't send you to the ER -- or worse -- quitting this highly addictive med can unleash a host of health problems.

Take what happened to a patient named Lorrain. She quit the drug a week after a hip replacement and claims the withdrawal was worse than recovering from the surgery. She developed flu-like symptoms and depression, which she had never had before and that lasted for three weeks.

Another patient quit tramadol after rotator cuff surgery and immediately suffered from cold chills, sweats, and severe anxiety.

"I ended up in ER that afternoon," he said.

It's never been more important to tell your doctor about any other drugs you may be taking before he prescribes a painkiller. That's especially true if you are on a med for migraines, depression, anxiety, muscle spasms, mental illness, or nausea and vomiting.

And, as many people have learned the hard way, the only sure way to avoid becoming another tramadol victim is to avoid taking it in the first place.
Just why is there so much general pain out there amongst the population anyway?

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I have a good long evening of television viewing ahead of me tonight, including the two-hour season-premiere of Defiance.  Thus, I am going to close today's post with this entry from my journal of 41 years ago when I was 24 years old, and living in a cheap housekeeping room in New Westminster.

Fridays were my appointed days to work ─ usually as a truck swamper ─ at a charitable organization in New Westminster called S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends) that is now known as Fraserside Community Services Society.
FRIDAY, June 14, 1974

I am wiped right out; I bet I've only had about 1½ hours sleep.  Art & I had a moving job, too.  

Because his wife was out of the hospital, we drank after work at his place; she still fools around with me.

Seems I owe Art $15 in helping him pay for Gary's repairs.

Staggering home, I stupidly bought a large Venus beef & onion pizza.  And I am already living off the $60 cheque I cashed today.

Mark & Cathy apparently left on their vacation at 4:00 p.m. (says Bill).
Although S.A.N.E. only had a pick-up for making collections and deliveries, we would sometimes use it to move a small-enough household who might be in need.

Those tended to be busy days.

Co-worker Art Smith was in his early 40s.  Our usual driver was Esther St. Jean, but she was in the hospital for some reason ─ a voluntary admission.  Art's wife Angelina (Angie) had been in the same Royal Columbian Hospital for (supposedly) double pneumonia and pleurisy.

Unfortunately, she was becoming uncomfortable for me ─ she was becoming riskily sexually aggressive.  Art had his many faults, but he and I had grown very close, despite our age difference.

Angelina was no more than 33.

Perhaps it was the previous Friday that ─ after work and while partying ─ Art caused some damage to the Mustang of a young fellow by the name of Gary Foreman or Freeman (I now forget).  Art did so with the S.A.N.E. truck.

Gary was the boyfriend of one of the daughters of our usual driver, Esther St. Jean.  Young Melodie St. Jean had been partying with the crew, and I guess Gary tried to get her to go home with him.

I'm unsure now why I would feel obligated to owe $15 towards the cost of repairs ─ maybe Art convinced me that I should have been serving look-out duty?

Note that Art was only working two days a week at S.A.N.E., so neither of us were receiving much income.  In fact, the $60 cheque I mentioned was my monthly pay, if you can believe it!

Venus Pizza made a superb pizza, however ─ it was seductively good!  A drunk and hungry young guy like me could hardly be faulted for submitting to the temptation ─ all I likely had at home to eat were bread and peanut butter.

I now have no idea what vacation my younger brother Mark and his girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther embarked upon ─ as I was informed had occurred, by my old friend William Alan Gill.
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