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Wednesday, October 12, 2016

💀 ☠ A Little Alcohol Proven to Brighten Mood │ Falling Now the Leading Cause of Death for U.S. Seniors │ The Hormone Oxytocin Reduces Tinnitus Ringing

'Twas probably nearer 2:00 a.m. than 1:30 a.m. when I completed my abject dissolution last night and went to bed.

I seem to have a bad reaction whenever my wife Jack has been around and then leaves again ─ the sense of loss.

It leaves me keening within for intimate human contact.

I sorely miss what we once had.  And so I act out in my weakness.

I think I had my first break in sleep overnight just after 5:30 a.m. ─ at least, that's when I availed myself of the opportunity to use the bathroom.

I also think that I had heard my younger brother Mark leave for work shortly prior.  It was a little surprising that no lights were on in the house ─ my eldest step-son Tho does not normally leave for work as early as that.

It left me wondering if maybe he got a ride to somewhere with Mark now that Tho's car is impounded as a result of him being caught driving it while under suspension.

Or maybe Tho just left early because he has to bus out to where he works in Burnaby from here where we live in the Whalley area of Surrey.

I heard just a snatch of conversation last evening between him and Mark, and my impression was that he still believes that he will be getting his car back by the weekend ─ there was something said about the impound being just for a week.

So I wonder on the full price of recovery, if this is indeed so and he can retrieve it?  My wife Jack had said yesterday that she would probably be back on Friday (evening?) so that she could drive him to wherever the car is impounded.

We shall see.

Anyway, it was 9:06 a.m. when I checked the time this morning with an eye to rising for the day.

It seems that my youngest step-son Pote has the day off, but at least he slept alone last night and thus his girlfriend is not here too.

I got to work on the post at my Latin Impressions website that I commenced last Friday ─ I not only expected to finish and publish it, but to then get a new post set up at one of my other hosted websites.

It was not to be.  Instead, I found a cache of far more material to add to the post than I had time for this morning, so now I am looking at tomorrow as its completion date.

Perhaps I could have kept working on it into the early afternoon, but it is a sunny day ─ I wanted to sit out in the backyard in my cut-offs, facing into the Sun for at least 40 minutes.

So beginning at 12:13 p.m., I did just that.

I then had a light breakfast/lunch; and now at this very moment, it is 1:56 p.m.  This blog will be occupying me for the afternoon.  I have no spare time for the website post.

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I want to post some photos sent to me by Tukta, a dear Thai lady I got to know during my first trip to Thailand back in January 2003.

I believe that this first photo was taken back in 2012, but I have no details on it:


On April 7, 2015, she was involved in a traffic accident while she and at least one other person were driving to a funeral.  She wound up in a hospital for two weeks, and had to use crutches for some time after she was released.

I got the impression that she lost her position of employment because of her incapacity to be at work ─ and she had some supervisory or even managerial position.

Anyway, she's in the next photo with her crutches ─ she's the second woman from the left in the back row ─ I have no idea who the other people are, nor what's going on.  The photo may have been taken August 22, 2015:  


This next photo seems to have been taken on the same occasion as the one just above ─ that is Tukta seated at the table just beyond the head of the chap in the foreground:


Tukta is raising a little boy whose mother just seems to have left him with Tukta a few years ago, and never returned.  I have no idea who the very cute little girl is in this final photo, which may have been taken in November 2015:


I sure gave up a hell of a lot when my wife Jack and then her two sons came here to Canada.  Without some financial miracle, I will never travel anywhere again.

And I'm getting of an age and state of physical instability where I find myself losing interest in ever going abroad.

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Sometimes when I am getting into my evening drinks, I will experience some euphoria for awhile ─ it is really quite beautiful.

I remember having the feeling to an intense degree around Christmas a few years ago.  It was just about ecstatic.

Admittedly, the Christmas episode saw me with quite a snoot-load.

Nevertheless, a recent article reported on how a study has found that consumption of a very light amount of alcohol can indeed have positive mood changes:


Another article reported on that same study, but also listed out other benefits relating to beer-drinking:

mother nature network

The study was presented on September 29 at the 29th European College of Neuropsychopharmacology (ECNP) Congress in Vienna ─ here is their own report on the study:


The study had quite the title:  Alcohol acutely enhances decoding of positive emotions and emotional concern for positive stimuli and facilitates the viewing of sexual images (doi: 10.1007/s00213-016-4431-6).

If you want badly enough to access the full study, you can locate it at Sci-Hub.ac as an 11-page .pdf document.

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I mentioned this statistic just recently, but it bears repeating ─ the primary cause of death amongst seniors in the U.S. is not any type of disease, but rather as a consequence of falling:

CBSNEWS 

The causes for those falls is discussed, and recommendations are made, including that healthcare providers overseeing seniors "review and manage their medications."

But I wonder just how low a percentage of those falls has nothing at all to do with the plethora of prescriptions that are liberally given out?

A very good overview of this is offered in this comprehensive article:


I don't take any medication whatsoever, but I know that I could definitely use far more activity outside than I get.  But with nothing but miles and miles of streets near me ─ and no parks within reach that have exercise facilities ─ I have little inclination to get out there and do anything.

The only time I go walking anymore is when I need to do some shopping.

And so the decline at every level.

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That study on alcohol's ability to enhance mood mentioned the hormone oxytocin

Rather oddly, a small Brazilian study seems to have found that a nasal spraying of some oxytocin has minimized the serious tinnitus ringing of some sufferers who were participating in the study.


Just this year I have begun to be bothered with some tinnitus ─ enough that I have started to watch T.V. with the volume lower than I used to set it.  The radio's volume can be exacerbating, too.

I am sure that a genuine oxytocin product would not be inexpensive; and who knows what comprises so-called oxytocin from questionable sources?

Unfortunately, I have not got an eager sex partner with whom I can enthusiastically attempt to generate as much of my own oxytocin to see if there is any change for the better.

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I have a 41-year-old journal entry to close out today's post with.

Back then I was newly 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.  The house I was renting the tiny unit in was located on Ninth Street at Third Avenue.

My mother Irene Dorosh and her husband Alex had left the previous morning on a bus charter to Reno.  I was probably expected to check up on the house in their absence ─ besides, it was my main mailing address.

The house no longer exists, but its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey  To hike directly there from my room would take about 1½ hours of fast walking.

This was the Thanksgiving long weekend, and I had been invited over for dinner at the home of my younger brother Mark and his girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther.

Back then, they were renting a home together that was located on Bentley Road in Whalley ─ the house was not too far at all from 108th Avenue & King George Highway.
SUNDAY, October 12, 1975

I got up barely before 5:00 a.m., feeling clogged from yesterday's eating.

I shall leave for mom's via the short trip at 6:00 a.m., mailing Ron's letter.

Highlights:  Cathy picked me up to take me home for dinner, first stopping at Nell's for the kids; Sandy birthday kissed me on the lips.  Bruce gave me 2 T-shirts, a shirt, and $7.  Vodka was opened, and I drank.

My next memory is becoming conscious with great misery in the dark in the brush around Mark's.  I came in.

Everyone had eaten, and Garry was there.

I had some supper, and was given a birthday card ─ with a $50 cheque inside!

I went to mom's with Garry later.

Mark apparently ordered me a lottery ticket.
The letter I had to mail was to Ron Bain, an American pen-pal I had.

After all of these years, I cannot lay claim to remembering that day.  But Jeanette had apparently come to my mother's home and picked me up to bring me back to the house to have dinner with her, Mark, and Jeanette's two little girls.

Unfortunately, my maternal Aunt Nell had been babysitting the little girls, and that is where we went to collect them.

My 26th birthday had been the day before.  Sandy was my slightly older cousin Randy Halverson's wife.

Bruce Halverson was another of Nell's sons, and was a little younger than I ─ he was an extremely generous young man who left us far, far too soon.  He always reminded me a bit of Robert Mitchum; and Randy reminded me a little of Johnny Cash.  

I have no idea what befell me ─ why was I outside Mark and Jeanette's home, waking up in the shrubbery?  Had I felt ill and gone outside, and then passed out?

I was renowned for just disappearing without a word from homes where I was visiting ─ I would slip out and hike back to where I lived.  Everyone in the house may have thought that I had gone.

Mark's best friend back then was Garry Porteous, so it is scant surprise to read that he was present.

But that is quite a big deal that I received a $50 cheque from Mark and Jeanette!  And a lottery ticket was still to come ─ back then, lottery tickets had to be mail-ordered, for there were no lottery booths or anything like that practically everywhere like there are now.  They just did not exist as yet.

I must have planned to spend the night at my mother's home in the absence of her and Alex ─ it was not at all out of the way for Garry to have driven me there, good soul that he was.  The house was roughly 4¼ miles from where Mark and Jeanette lived.

Memories.

Back to the present, now.  

The day clouded over as the afternoon progressed, and I have heard from the radio that wind and rain are ahead.  It is good I sunned today ─ tomorrow may well be out of the question.
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