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Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Dramatic Rheumatoid Arthritis Relief with Probiotics │ Passionflower May Reduce Anxiety and Improve Memory │ Politicians and Corporations Swiftly Cashing in on the 'Zika Industry'

The thrill is gone.

My wife Jack did come home for awhile last evening, arriving before my younger brother Mark had yet gone upstairs to his bedroom for the night.

I doubt that she was here for a half-hour.

When she went upstairs, I ventured outside to water the garden.

When I came back into the house, she was downstairs, and showed me the couple of dishes of food that she had brought home.

She was about ready to leave to return to Vancouver, so I made ready to see her off.

We exchanged a good-bye kiss ─ there were none the previous two times she left home to got back to Vancouver.

I think she was a bit off balance, for as I was to see afterwards, she had seen and taken the 11th anniversary card that I had left for her in the bedroom ─ yesterday was the 11th anniversary of our marriage.

But she never said a thing about the card or the anniversary.

All she had to say was something very disturbing to me from the perspective of my mounting debt:  She would make her next visit home on Wednesday and apparently spend the night; and then she would take her two sons to the Thai embassy (Royal Thai Consulate-General) in Vancouver so they could apply for Thai passports.

They both already have Canadian passports.

From what I can see here, the passports may not be as expensive as Canadian passports; but $40 seems damned cheap to me ─ surely there is additional cost?

But this was not what disturbed me so much.

What hit hard was her reason for the passports ─ she said that she wanted to take them back to Thailand so they can see their grandmother (Jack's mother).

The last time the boys were in Thailand was 2009, the year after they first came to Canada.

Jack never indicated when such a trip might take place, but it certainly is not going to happen anytime soon if she thinks that she's going to charge the flights up by using some of the remaining line of credit on the house mortgage.

The oldest boy is 21 years old; and the youngest is 18.  I am not accepting any further debt so that these young men can enjoy a hell of a vacation that I cannot myself take.

If Jack pushes me on this, then she is going to learn that it is the final straw.  We will definitely be selling the house after my younger brother Mark retires in July 2017.

This looming debt-splurge apparently on Jack's mind had me so upset that ─ even though I got to sleep, probably because of the couple of ounces of white rum and the three cans of strong (8% alcohol) beer I had over the evening ─ when I found myself awake around 4:00 a.m. and took a bathroom break, the agitation resurged to a level that denied the possibility of further sleep.

I soon heard Mark rise to ready for work, so I waited him out.  When finally I heard him leave at roughly 5:30 a.m., I  rose and worked at the post I wanted to publish today at my Lawless Spirit website ─ I've had the post on the go since Saturday.

It was just after 7:30 a.m. when I felt that I was settled enough again to be able to locate some sleep.

It did come, in fits.  And it was around 10:30 a.m. when I got up to remain.

I was determined to finish that post, so I got back at it and stuck with it until it was done and published ─ a little after 1:30. p.m.  I had spent about three hours on it, plus another 1½ or more early this morning.

And over the past four days...well, let's just say that I am now spending at least a dozen hours putting together one post:  Holistic Spa Retreats II.


Yet this particular website has had two days in the past 28 days ─ specifically, May 17 and 19 ─ where not one visitor arrived at it.

I really am feeling close to giving up.  I just can't seem to make it.

And it just burns me that my wife thinks she has to take her two sons in to get Thai passports, and maybe at some point take them with her back to Thailand.

The 18-year-old is working full-time; the 21-year-old had a job, but quit it about two weeks ago.

If these two young men want some damned holiday, then save up and pay for it like I would have to do.  And like Jack should do ─ except she is so infernally buried in her own credit debt that I'm lucky to get anything out of her when the monthly mortgage comes due.

Her restaurant wages get gobbled up by her own personal credit bills.

The further exacerbation is that if Jack was to make such a trip, then she would be earning absolutely nothing while she was away.  So not only would we be losing her employment income, but she would be spending money over there that she is not earning ─ more credit debt, in other words.

Simply said, the trip absolutely cannot and will not happen on any of my credit ─ or the dwindling available balance in the line of credit on the house.

Hell, I am going to have to apply for a $3,500 withdrawal of money from my shrinking RRSP in about 10 days.  I'm just not getting any help with expenses.

Neither boy pays rent, although the younger one has contributed about $600 towards the mortgage in the past three months or so.

The older boy has never made a contribution.

I've got to quit talking about any of this for now ─ the rehearsal of the subject is dragging me down.

Due to how long it took me to finish that website post, I never got in any sunning until well into the afternoon.  I just sat in a chair in the backyard while wearing only a pair of shorts, and from 2:05 p.m. soaked up just over 45 minutes of somewhat hazy sunshine.

Tomorrow is supposed to be mainly cloudy, and there are also supposed to be some rain showers later in that day.  I am thinking that it will be a good day to make a beer hike ─ and this time, I'll also pick up at .750-ml bottle of rum.

I need more numbing in an evening than my budgeted three cans of strong beer can provide.

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This report on rheumatoid arthritis is extremely encouraging for folks suffering from the disease ─ relief has been found from a resource that is perfectly natural and wholesome:

If you or someone you love suffers from rheumatoid arthritis, you know how it can control every moment of your day.

From the moment you wake up in the morning, your stiff, aching joints can make even the simplest tasks -- like climbing the stairs or opening a jar -- nearly impossible.

But now an international research team has just discovered what may be the greatest RA breakthrough in decades.

I'm talking about a simple, drug-free way to slash joint inflammation and send even the worst pain packing.

And it produces results you'll notice -- and, more importantly feel -- in just eight weeks flat.

For years I've been telling you about the wonders of probiotics -- those healthy gut bugs that improve digestion and even help you fight off infections.

But it turns out probiotics may be even more versatile than we ever imagined.

For their latest study, published in the International Journal of Rheumatic Diseases, scientists asked a group of RA sufferers to spend eight weeks taking a daily probiotic.

And the results were off the charts.

Just two months was all it took for these folks to see dramatic improvements in just about every RA symptom that researchers measured.

I'm talking about less inflammation, lower insulin levels (insulin resistance is very common with RA), and better numbers on the Disease Activity Score (DAS) than patients had probably seen in years.

If you have RA, you probably already know about the DAS (sometimes called the DAS-28). It measures the health of 28 different joints that are often ravaged by RA -- and it's a key way for doctors to measure how the disease is advancing.

And by improving their DAS scores, it was as if these patients were actually turning back the clock on their RA!

That should be a bright, flashing beacon of hope for millions of RA sufferers. But it's not all that surprising.

Probiotics are designed to help your immune system work better. And RA, after all, is an autoimmune disease.

And I'll put the results probiotics are getting up against anything Big Pharma is offering any day.

Instead of working with your immune system, most RA drugs basically shut it down instead. And that can make you a sitting duck for some of the nastiest infectious diseases around.

The labels for prescription meds like Enbrel, Humira, and Remicade even warn that they could cause tuberculosis!

Tuberculosis! You've got to be kidding me!

The good news is that the health benefits of probiotics are so clear, there's no reason you can't start up on them right away.

And, remember -- this study was only conducted over just eight weeks. Hopefully, over time, the results you'll see from probiotics will be even better.

Look for a product with multiple strains and at least 20 billion colony-forming units.

Let's hope that taking a daily probiotic will make living with RA a little easier -- and a lot less painful.
The study is linked to at the bottom of that reference, but only the abstract becomes available to the general public for free.

I located it in full as a seven-page .pdf document at Sci-Hub.ac, but the site was acting up ─ I had to try a few times.

I'm somewhat confused, however, about that study.  I found another one that mentions using a trial period of eight weeks ─ again, this is only the abstract:  Clinical and metabolic response to probiotic supplementation in patients with rheumatoid arthritis: a randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled trial (DOI: 10.1111/1756-185X.12888).

I was unable to access the full study at Sci-Hub.ac, unfortunately.

This idea that probiotics can alleviate the severity of rheumatoid arthritis is not new ─ note a study apparently published in December 2013:  Probiotic supplementation improves inflammatory status in patients with rheumatoid arthritis (DOI: 10.1016/j.nut.2013.09.007).

That's only the abstract, but a rough version of the full study is available at ResearchGate.net here.

It looks far better as a six-page .pdf document at Sci-Hub.ac, however.

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How's your memory holding up?

Check this out:

Have you ever been late for an appointment because you couldn't find your car keys?

Or how about those times when you pick up the phone – and then completely forget who you were going to call?

These little brain hiccups (or "senior moments") we all get as we age are enough to drive you crazy.

But what if you could start to make them disappear – with something as simple as drinking a glass of tea?

European researchers have discovered an all-natural herbal remedy that may give your memory and brainpower a major boost in just weeks.

It's been around for thousands of years – and it looks like we're still learning about all that it can do.

Passionflower has one of those stories that's almost hard to believe.

You see, it was used for eons by Native American healers to treat insomnia and calm nerves.

But when the Spanish conquistadors first saw one in the 16th century, they thought they were witnessing a miracle.

That's because the passionflower has a crucifix shape in the middle -- and what looks like a crown of thorns around the outside.

And over the years, passionflower hasn't disappointed much in the miracle department.

It's so powerful that it's used in some countries to relax patients before surgery. And in a major study 15 years ago, it relieved anxiety as well as the popular drug Serax – but without all the side effects.

And now it looks like passionflower may be the key to protecting a lifetime of memories.

In a new study out of Poland, researchers fed a group of rats a passionflower extract for seven weeks.

And it was like someone had put jumper cables on their brains!

After just seven weeks, the rats' memories had significantly improved and they could complete mazes faster than ever.

We've known for years that passionflower increases our brains' levels of a key neurotransmitter called GABA. And scientists now believe that GABA plays an important role in regulating our memories – and controlling how many new memories we can make.

Plus, just by relieving anxiety, passionflower may give your brain and memory a jolt. If you suffer from anxiety -- or constantly feel like your mind is racing -- you know how difficult it can be to focus and remember things.

The really good news about passionflower is that you can pick it up just about anywhere as either a tea or a supplement.

A quick of caution – as I've said, passionflower can make you a little sleepy. So if you're already taking a prescription sedative, you should talk to your doctor before starting up on passionflower.
  • Phytotherapy Research, May 2016
This is the study ─ but yet again, only the abstract is available for free to the general public:  Passiflora incarnata L. Improves Spatial Memory, Reduces Stress, and Affects Neurotransmission in Rats (DOI: 10.1002/ptr.5578).

I had no luck bringing the study up at Sci-Hub.ac.

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Just this morning I read that there is now a 'Zika Industry' in full swing.

But I'll get to that after posting this related topic on the virus and the mosquito spreading it:

The warm weather is finally here -- and America is in full-blown Zika panic mode.

Everywhere we turn, we're hearing how one mosquito bite could unleash some of the most heartbreaking birth defects we've ever seen.

But even if there are no moms-to-be in your life, there's a very important reason we all need to follow Zika closely.

Because some of the wealthiest chemical companies around are using the Zika scare to try and gut years' worth of pesticide regulations.

And by the time they're done, they could be putting millions of us at risk for autism, cancer, and even death.

Last week the House passed a bill called the Zika Control Act.

That sounds legitimate enough. But critics who've been following what this bill is really about have given it another name -- the Pesticide Trojan Horse Act.

You see, this legislation didn't just spring up once Zika-infected mosquitoes hit American shores.

In fact, it's been around the block a few times before, only under different names. A few years ago it was called the "West Nile" bill. Another time the "Fire Suppression Act."

At the beginning of May it was called the "Reducing Regulatory Burdens Act."

But then some brainiac got the idea of putting the Zika name in it. And that's almost as golden as a pass to the front of the line at Disneyland!

The bill would do away with a special permit the EPA requires before pesticides can be sprayed on or near lakes and streams.

It would also mean that these chemicals could be released directly into water, either deliberately or by accident, without having to tell the EPA (or the rest of us) a word about it.

And this phony "Zika" bill comes at a time when experts are telling us that 90 percent of urban streams have been poisoned with pesticides to the point that it's not safe to eat any of the fish from those waters.

At the beginning of May, I told you about research from the Penn State Milton S. Hershey Medical Center that found a shocking connection between pesticide spraying and the gigantic increase in autism.

Right now, the numbers are saying that an astronomical one in 68 children will be diagnosed with autism. One in 68!

And some of these same pesticides that chemical companies want to spray and dump into our waterways have been linked to everything from diabetes to cancer.

There's no doubt that our overuse of toxic pesticides is the cause of health disasters we're only just beginning to discover.

The last thing we need to do now is to loosen up the sparse laws we have that offer a tiny bit of protection to us and our children.

That's why it's urgent that you contact your Senators today and demand that they vote against this so-called Zika Control Act. You can tell them that you know exactly who this bill will be protecting.

And it's not babies.
Here's another reference about this:


As for the 'Zika Industry' and its very much related implications:


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I must rush this post to a close ─ here is an entry from my journal of 41 years ago when I was 25 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

The evening before, an older friend ─ Art Smith ─ had taken me in to the Mount Pleasant area of Vancouver where my father Hector and his girlfriend Marie Fadden were living ─ supposedly, the pair were to be vacated from their apartment by 6:00 p.m.

Art ─ then in his early 40s ─ had the youngest two of his three children with him, and only a pick-up truck without extra siding.

I went in to locate my father while Art and his kids remained outside in the truck...and I found my father and Marie absolutely plastered.

There would be no moving of them that evening ─ there just was not the passenger room in the truck, and it would have required more than the one load.

So I had to tell my father that Art and I would come by in the early morning ─ a postponement of the move that apparently had my father roundly cursing.
SATURDAY, May 31, 1975

I had three or so hours of sleep, but didn't really get up till 4:50 a.m.

I got to Art's maybe 6:45 a.m.; I don't really recall.  It took me some while with trepid knocks to get in.

Seems he and Angelina had had a bad row all night, and continued when we left.  

But anyway, we got to Vancouver; both dad and Marie were up, and trying to be sensible; their movers were expected that morn too, having persevered last night till contacting dad after I left with Art.

George the driver reminded me of Randy in speech, and somewhat in looks too, though he was something older, and taller.

His aid was a short, beefy guy called Bill.

But we moved them.

Art got $12, me $5, and the movers, I don't know.  After some drinking, they left; Art and I tried much later, but dad insisted on a ride to New West.  Art agreed, so the pair came along.

He drove us instead to the Port Arms Hotel in Port Moody.

I phoned Bill and suggested he await a further call anent the smorgasbord as it was then past 2:00 p.m.

I called later from the Dunsmuir after we'd all transported there, but Bill was gone.  Tried a couple times.

Various people sat with us.

Finally, 6:40 p.m., Art left; I sneaked off soon after, having spent a mere $2.45 or so of my own cash, besides the gifted five.

I ache when I think of what poor dad and Marie blew.

I called Mark's, getting Cathy and speaking ostensibly of my bad state, then spoke to Bill, saying to leave me alone tomorrow, as I would be in no mood for a Halverson baseball game.

I planned to buy chicken, but balked at the $6.50 for a bucket.

I went to Uptown's and got pears plus wieners ($1.09).

Next I went to the Bluebird and bought a Mayfair; their wieners were 4¢ cheaper.

So I came home and ate reasonably for once.

Then I lied down with my light on and flaked out till 1:30 a.m.

I arose, brushed my teeth, and wrote this.

A scrape on my left hand from yesterday aches as if infected.

About 3:00 a.m. 'twas Susan Nell. 
Angelina was of course Art's wife.  I know they often had their relationship difficulties, but I sure hope he wasn't in dutch for trying to help me out.

I probably wasn't in ideal condition when I wrote that entry.  At any rate, the movers my father had hired did show up the previous evening after Art and I had left, but I am unclear if they actually took the time to move anything.  

Whatever the case, they returned after Art and I arrived this new day.

I wrote that I thought that "George" (the driver) resembled my maternal cousin Randy Halverson, who had a slight Johnny Cash vibe to him.

Anyway, the move was accomplished.

Once the movers had a few drinks, were paid, and left, my father probably didn't want to lose all of his company, so he asked for a ride with us back to New Westminster.  The new area he was living in would have been entirely unfamiliar to him.

Yet instead of New Westminster, it sounds like I was saying that Art decided to take us all to the Port Arms Hotel in Port Moody

According to here, the hotel was eventually renamed Jake's Crossing.  And now, it's called the Burrard Public House.

We would have visited the beer parlour (or pub).

After that, we headed to New Westminster and the Dunsmuir Hotel for yet more drinking.  Art and I would have known a number of people who frequented that place.

As far as I know, the Dunsmuir no longer serves the purpose of hotel, and is not likely licenced for alcohol, either.

I had been trying to phone my old friend William Alan Gill, for we must have had plans to visit the Family Smorgasbord in New Westminster ─ that eatery used to be located in a shopping plaza at Eighth Avenue & McBride Boulevard.

I finally found Bill ─ quite by accident, I suppose ─ when I phoned my younger brother Mark.  It was Mark's girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther who first answered the phone, however. 

The "Halverson baseball game" was an event involving my maternal relatives the Halversons ─ Bill and I had been invited to attend the game set for that Sunday.

After Art left the Dunsmuir to finally go home to his angry wife, I would have had to sneak away on my father and Marie ─ my father would have been clinging tightly to me.

I think Uptown's market was likely on Sixth Street well uphill from City Hall, but I now have no memory of "the Bluebird."  That latter business is where I bought the Mayfair 'girlie magazine.'

Once I was back at my room, I ate a fairly light meal, and then passed out on my bed.

It mustn't have been for too very long if I got up again at 1:30 a.m. and soon got busy writing that meandering entry.

That final line in the entry was my hidden fashion of recording that Susan Nell ─ one of the models in the Mayfair magazine ─ resulted in me releasing some sexual tension.
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