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Friday, June 3, 2016

★ Heimlich Manoeuvre Refresher │ The Most Effective Mosquito Repellents │ Stomach Balloons for Weight-Loss???

The sordid side manifested itself last night after I had finished watching T.V., and I failed to get to bed until about 1:00 a.m.

I have suffered for both of those shortfalls today.

It was 7:07 a.m. when I first checked the time this morning with an eye to rising for the day ─ I was unable to sleep any longer, and my conscience was partly responsible by bringing on an unease.

While I was downstairs waiting for the water to boil so that I could finish preparing my day's first hot beverage, my youngest step-son Pote and his girlfriend rose; and very quickly, the pair had left  ─ Pote was driving her off in his older brother's car.

Anon he was back, alone.

And around 8:30 a.m. he left home to catch his bus for work.

Only his unemployed older brother Tho was home to offer any impediment to my day.

I worked for awhile upon the new post at my Lawless Spirit website ─ I should have gotten twice as much completed on it as I did, but I met with two formatting issues that took me a crushingly long while to overcome.

I think that a theme update that was available and which I initiated was to blame.

But whatever the cause, I probably spent just about as long struggling for solutions to those two issues as I did actually working on the post's content.

As a result, I don't see how I can have the post published by tomorrow ─ and I commenced work on it this past Wednesday.

Just two years ago, I was putting out two posts per day.

But it was consuming my day ─ I was spending eight...ten...even 12 hours at it.

So I cut back to just one post per day.

And then I began getting more involved with the amount of content I was supplying in each post.

Now, I am fortunate to complete a post in three days.  And too often, it takes longer.

When one considers that I have six hosted websites that I am putting posts into, it has gotten to the point that I am struggling to manage to get two posts published in each of them per month.

I don't know what else I can do, though.

Maybe give it all up.  It certainly is not proving profitable insofar as affiliate income is concerned.

Feeling discouraged and spent, around 10:00 a.m. I returned to bed in the hope that some further sleep would succeed in restoring me somewhat.

I probably managed about 1½ hours in bed.  And it did help, a little.

Unfortunately, I am my own worst enemy, and my actions haunt me.  Yet I am too weak to consistently take and hold fast to a noble path.

I will utterly undo myself after several days, and again bring on recrimination and self-loathing.   

I am but a rat in a cage entirely removed from the natural world ─ unable to have a life of freedom, fulfillment and purpose, and peace and joy.

The morning has been mainly cloudy, but the early afternoon is weakly sunny through a thinning thick haze.

I think that I will break here and go out into the backyard to sit in a chair with my face directed into the location of the Sun, and my bared feet on the ground benefiting from the healing earthing effect.

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I could have stripped down and lied on the sundeck ─ it had become very sunny.

But I sat in the chair as already described, wearing just a pair of brief shorts; and I was out there for just over 45 minutes, commencing the session at 1:49 p.m.

I want to post a relatively old photo now ─ the description beneath it is from the Google album where the photo is stored.

The picture is glued into an old photo album, so I had to scan the entire album page and then individually crop each photo.

The photo was taken sometime between 1973 - 1975.

That is my younger brother Mark at the left.

The two little girls are Pamela Susan Gunther (left) and her older sister Michelle Lee Gunther ─ the darling and beautiful young daughters of Mark's equally beautiful girlfriend of the time, Catherine Jeanette Gunther.

If I could place which house rental this was, then I would be able to narrow down the dating of the photo, but I cannot.

If it was 1974, then Mark was 21 years old until his 22nd birthday in July.  However, I offer that as an example of determining his age only ─ I have no idea if this is from 1974 or not.  
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You likely heard about the news story just this week in which Dr. Heimlich ─ now 96 years old ─ saved the life of someone by using his famous 'manoeuvre' for the first time in his life.


The following additional report is from NewMarketHealth.com:
Thousands of healthy people of all ages die from choking every year.

In fact, it's on the list of the top five causes of accidental death in the U.S. -- right under car accidents and fires.

Patty Ris could have easily become one of those victims. But as luck would have it, the 87-year-old was having dinner seated next to none other than Dr. Henry Heimlich.

That's right, Heimlich -- as in the Heimlich maneuver.

And, of course, Dr. Heimlich (who's no spring chicken himself at 96), immediately knew what to do. After all, he invented the technique for clearing blocked windpipes that has saved untold numbers of people from a certain death.

What's even more surprising than his dining companion's lucky seat, however, is that it's the very first time the doctor himself has ever had to "Heimlich" someone!

But plenty of other people have -- and saved lives by knowing what to do.

And even if you've read about the maneuver before, it can't hurt to brush up on what Dr. Heimlich invented over 50 years ago. You can even use the technique to save your own life!

So here's how it works, from Minneapolis physician Dr. Stephen Dunlop:
  • First, assess the situation. Can the person speak or cough? If they are coughing, encourage them to keep it up. But if they can't, or start to change color, it's time to take action.
  • Have someone call 911.
  • Get behind the person (be sure to tell them what you're doing as to not panic them), and make a fist with your dominant hand and place the thumb side of the fist halfway between the person's belly button and breastbone. Grab your fist with your other hand.
  • Start making firm, inward and upward thrusts. (Other experts advise that each thrust be an independent action. You're not massaging the belly.)
  • Start with moderate force, but if that doesn't work, increase your pressure.
  • If the person starts coughing, stop.
  • If they become unconscious, lay them down on the floor and start chest compressions which may clear their airways.
If you're alone, the technique can be done by placing a fist slightly above your navel, grabbing your fist with the other hand and bending over a hard surface such as a chair. Shove your fist into your abdomen with an inward and upward motion.

For very young children, use back slaps instead of thrusts. And for pregnant women, Dr. Dunlop advises chest compressions similar to CPR.
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Check out this report on the most effective mosquito repellents ─ you might not care for what you'll be reading, though:

You won't find a bigger backer of natural therapies than me -- but if I'm going to depend on something to protect my family, it darned well better work.

And it better work well.

Some of the hippies out there are so high on patchouli that they've lost the ability to sniff out common sense -- and they think ANYTHING natural must be better than a chemical.

Well, my friend, it's time to wake up and smell the DEET!

It might be a chemical, but this summer you're going to need the stuff and the latest research shows why: IT WORKS!

When it comes to Zika-spreading, West Nile-carrying, dengue-dispensing mosquitos, no hippy oil can do the job nearly as well -- so if you want to protect your family from these and other bug-borne diseases, you're going to have to learn to love DEET.

In a series of experiments, researchers found that most of the crunchy stuff on the market right now either doesn't work or works so briefly you'll need to keep basting yourself in it to get any protection at all.

Plant oils such as citronella and rosemary keep skeeters away for an hour or less and some "natural" bug repellents barely last 30 minutes, according to the tests from Consumer Reports.

DEET, on the other hand, is the Energizer Bunny of bug repellents: it keeps going... and going... and going... and going, lasting for up to SEVEN hours!

It wasn't the only winner, either -- there are a couple of others, but they're also chemicals. Both picaridin and a synthetic derivative of eucalyptus are about as effective as DEET (just avoid anything with oil of lemon eucalyptus in kids under 3, it can give them a nasty rash).

Earlier studies found that the chemical IR3535 will also do the trick, but it didn't do so well in the latest round of testing.

Maybe the bugs are getting tougher to kill.

Whatever you do, don't head out without some protection this summer, because the CDC is warning that this could be the most dangerous mosquito season yet, with Zika-armed bugs making their way toward the United States right now.

And they're expected to arrive any day.

The biggest risks are to pregnant women, as the virus can cause birth defects. But even if you're not pregnant, Zika can cause a nasty infection -- and in some cases, it can lead to ADEM.

That's a nightmare condition that mimics the sheer agony of multiple sclerosis... and you can get it from a little old mosquito bite!

So pick your poison. Some pregnant women avoid DEET because there's not a whole lot of research on safety in the first trimester. I haven't seen anything to convince me it's unsafe, but if it makes you feel any better, reach for the picaridin instead.

Biting back against bugs....
This is probably the Consumer Report on those repellents:


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The dangerous money-making gimmicks that keep coming from the medical field are more and more bizarre.

You don't have to visit the beach this summer to play with a beach ball.

Just visit your doctor!

There's a daffy new plan for weight loss that involves swallowing a capsule with a balloon inside that's connected to a catheter tube.

Once the Obalon, as it's called, is in your belly, the doc connects a pump to the catheter and fills the balloon with nitrogen gas so it swells in your stomach.

No word yet on whether it also works with bicycle pumps. And who do you call if it goes flat -- AAA, or a clown with experience in balloon animals?

Anyway, you're supposed to swallow another balloon a few weeks later, and another one a few weeks after that. Eventually, your stomach might look like the ball pit at a Chuck E. Cheese.

Supposedly, walking around with all these balls in your belly will make you feel fuller all the time so you're less hungry and less tempted to eat... and you end up eating less overall.

After about six months, they pull the balloons out. Who knows, maybe they'll let you take them home so you re-inflate them to play some volleyball.

Believe it or not, this isn't the only loony-balloony weight-loss scheme out there. A balloon system called the Elipse is also being tested right now and it works like the Obalon: You swallow a capsule with a balloon that's then pumped up in your stomach.

And both of these are similar to another daffy plan I've warned you about earlier, called the ReShape Dual Balloon, where you swallow empty bags that are then filled with saline once they're in your belly.

This Obalon is supposed to be safer since it won't fill your belly with seawater if it bursts.

On the other hand, I have no idea what releasing nitrogen gas into your intestine will do... but at the very least, it has the potential to lead to some very embarrassing situations, especially if you're dining in a quiet restaurant.

Here's a better idea: Instead of filling your belly with gas or saline, try filling it with delicious food instead.

I know it sounds crazy, but you can eat plenty... never go hungry... and LOSE weight, all at the same time, but only if you eat the right foods.

That means quitting carbs and getting on a back-to-basics diet rich in delicious animal fats.

It's safe. It's simple. And it's so effective that if you start today you'll be wearing slimmer new clothes in time for your 4th of July BBQ... and you can let someone else bring the beach ball.

Having a ball....
Why are people this impossibly stupid?  Why not first try abandoning the damned useless carbohydrates and instead eat that diet rich in animal proteins and fats?

If such a programme is dutifully followed with no success, then look at something else as a solution.

I would rather be able to eat animal proteins and fats to my heart's content ─ after all, even if the 'diet balloon' works, it isn't a free ticket to dietary nirvana.  Note this:
Patients can’t eat solid foods for the first three days and need to work out 90 minutes a day. Once patients start eating food, they won’t be able to eat more than a small meal per day. 
Thanks...but I would rather eat abundantly and lose weight at the same time!

By the way, that quote was from the following article of just over two years ago:


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I have a fairly long entry from my journal of 41 years ago to cover and close with, so I will get at it now.

Back then, I was 25 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I had incurred a bad sunburn two days previously.
TUESDAY, June 3, 1975

Up about 5:45 a.m.; my burn is so tight and painful I could not last night lie on my back, and throughout the night consciously had to rearrange my posture as best I could.

And to think yestermorn I felt it possible I might this morning be in condition to resume my exercises.  

I pray I heal without complications.

The sky is very cloudy; on my walk to mom's I'll mail a $5 tithe, the order for my third summer Western ticket, and my payment for a 6 issue subscription to Cross Plains.  The afternoon is to be sunny.

It wasn't; I walked home in the rain (Phyllis honked at me as she turned into her plaza lot).

I had quite a store of mail:  a Manpower questionnaire re my course; two envelopes re postal offerings; a Plain Truth; two books, Almuric and Grey Maiden; a letter each from Jean and Ron; and strangest of all, a letter from a Jean-Pierre Gaillard of Morsang-nu-orge, France, who was hoping I could assist him in acquiring Marvels he lacked; he obviously wasn't with a complete knowledge of English, but did very well; he suggested regardless of my assistance, we could correspond.  

Lunch was heavy on carbohydrate, the least enjoyed being a quantity of rice pudding.

Mark & Cathy with Pam dropped in a short spell.

I weighed myself afore eating:  about 186 or 187.

At nearly 5:45 p.m. Art called, but I didn't respond; the same occurrence came near 7:40 p.m.

My back feels as if scar tissue is forming; it is extremely painful; I hope it heals fully, and does not itch while healing.  

I found a patch of my T-shirt stuck to my skin while undressing; it took some undoing.  I'll try to use a short sleeved shirt for a pajama top so I won't stick to a sheet or something, or pick up some bale germ.
My mother Irene Dorosh's home out in Surrey was my mailing address, so I tried to ensure I hiked out there at least a couple of times a week. 

My mother would also generously feed me.

Her little house no longer exists, but the address lives on in my memory:  12106 - 90th Avenue.

On my way to visit her that day, I mailed off a small tithe, a money order for a Western Lottery ticket, and a money order for a six-issue subscription to the Robert E. Howard fanzine, Cross Plains

As I discovered yesterday and mentioned in that post, copies of the defunct Cross Plains today go for around $50.  Mine are, alas, lost.

I had been looking into taking a correspondence course to further my education, for I had dropped out of Grade XII.  Manpower was the federal Department of Manpower and Immigration, and was responsible for things like unemployment insurance ─ folks went to the nearest unemployment office to check out the latest job postings.
 
I used to be a regular tither to the Church of God, and I was a Plain Truth magazine subscriber.

The "postal offerings" were the latest commemorative stamp issues from Canada Post.  I regularly bought those stamps just for use ─ I mailed off a lot of correspondence of one sort or another. 

I still have Robert E. Howard's Almuric ─ I should have scanned it for display, but I will try to remember to do so for tomorrow.

I must have parted ways with Grey Maiden ─ I suspect that it was written by Arthur D. Howden Smith

My American pen-pals Jean Michelle Martin (nèe Black) and Ron Bain had written me letters, but so had that chap from Morsang-sur-Orge in France. 

My life was to become very tumultuous.  I never maintained contact into the 1980s with any of my pen-pals.  All of them were folks I met through the fan letter-pages of Marvel Comics.

I posted a photo of my brother Mark and little Pamela (along with her older sister Michelle) much earlier in this post.  Mark was then living common-law with Catherine Jeanette Gunther, so the little girls were frequently in his charge.  My mother and her husband Alex just loved those youngsters ─ and their mother Jeanette (whom I always referred to as "Cathy" in my journal).

I wrote that on my way back to New Westminster, my older maternal half-sister Phyllis honked at me, but I now have no idea where ─ the statement "Phyllis honked at me as she turned into her plaza lot" is meaningless to me after all of these years.

Back in my room, a little later in the evening, it would seem that Art Smith attempted to twice visit.

He was an older friend and co-worker in his early 40s, but he only ever came seeking me out when he wanted to drag me off back to his place and waste away the rest of the day drinking with him.

I enjoyed drinking, but I didn't want to get snagged into it from out of the blue ─ and that bugger would not ever take my refusal.  He would dominate my intentions otherwise, and I would just about always cave and comply.

Thus, it was far easier on me just to ignore his knocks when he came calling.  As long as I wasn't watching a loud T.V. or playing my radio with volume, he would be unable to know if I was home.  I kept my only window covered up with blankets, as I recall.

Well, I'm in need of a bath ─ I missed out yesterday due to waywardness that engrossed me.  I want to do a little exercising first, though.

So I must proofread this post, publish it ─ and then get busy.  My evening of T.V. and a few drinks await!
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