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Thursday, October 20, 2016

Resveratrol Against Inflammation and Respiratory Tract Infections │ Bisphosphonates Contribute to Macular Degeneration │ The Big Sugar Lie

Last evening was another of those in which my younger brother Mark was the most disagreeable presence.

I will say no more on that.  But at most, it was 10:20 a.m. when he headed on upstairs to his bedroom.  I don't know just what he figures he needs to do in preparing for bed ─ I know that he shaves, and probably brushes his teeth ─ but it seems to take him about a half-hour.

It was 12:04 a.m. by the time I was settled into bed.

My first break in sleep that saw me seek out the bathroom was around 4:00 a.m.  To my considerable surprise, I saw that Mark's bedroom light was on, and he appeared to be moving about.

He normally sets his clock-radio for 4:20 a.m.

There have been times when the darned besotted fool has gotten up very early in the a.m. to use the bathroom, and suddenly he comes to believe that he was up because his clock-radio had alerted him to rise for the day.

He will then shower.

The last time this happened, it was not even 2:00 a.m. yet.  But he clued in during his shower because it dawned upon him that he was not hearing his clock-radio playing ─ he keeps it set to a talk station.

Other times he has gone downstairs and made his morning coffee before eventually cluing in that he shouldn't yet be up.

He gets scant enough sleep-time as is.

So who knows why he was up?  Maybe he just couldn't sleep any longer ─ alcohol withdrawal will do that.

I used the bathroom and returned to bed, and soon enough found some further sleep.  It was 7:13 a.m. when at last I checked the time and decided to rise for the day, although it did take me three or four minutes to kick into gear and actually do it.

When I came downstairs to make my morning's hot beverage, I saw that just as was the case yesterday, my eldest step-son Tho's car was parked in Mark's spot.

Tho is under a driving suspension, so it may be that his younger brother Pote is either driving him to work in Burnaby, or else at least taking him to the SkyTrain.

However, unlike yesterday, Pote was not up ─ he was back in bed with his girlfriend.  If I remember aright, she did not spend the previous night here with him.

Or if she did, she had to leave early to get to work.

I spent a couple of hours working on an unfinished post at one of my hosted websites, and then began readying for that four-mile round-trip hike to the government liquor store at 108th Avenue & King George Boulevard here in Whalley.

Pote and his girlfriend were up by that point.

Nonetheless, I was able to get away unnoticed while he was showering ─ it was 10:48 a.m. as I set off.

The day was grey, but calm.  I even saw a few blue patches, but never experienced any sunshine.

As I was cutting through Holland Park ─ which is nigh on being around half-way to my destination ─ I encountered Hugh on his constitutional.  He tries to get out and put in a few miles ambulating about the park with some gusto.

Hugh used to live in the area where I reside, but he was only renting a suite or something.  He now lives in an apartment beside Holland Park.

He's a colorful sort of guy ─ fairly large, but in rather ill health.  I suppose that he's into his 60s.

As engaging as I do find him, he was once a member of a biker gang that he has never named, so perhaps he has mellowed in his later years.

We probably chatted for close to 10 minutes.

I wouldn't mind spending time drinking and talking with the guy some day, but he doesn't drink ─ I think he said that he quite about 36 years ago. 

Anyway, the only other experience I had that was worth mentioning out there was being solicited for change by an unwholesome-looking woman who clearly was destitute ─ this was outside of a Subway franchise essentially adjacent to the liquor store.

I had purposefully brought along change for just such an eventuality, for I rarely carry coinage anymore, now that just about all of my shopping is done with my debit card.

So I am sure she was rather delighted to find $3.40 dumped into her open palm.

I was likely back home by 12:30 p.m.  Tho's car was gone, and no one was home ─ but neither was the damned house door locked.

Pote can be so bloody feckless.

I had visions of cooking myself up a superb feed based upon some frozen ground beef, but I had barely finished puting away the two dozen cans of strong (8% alcohol) beer I had bought, and changed into my house clothes, when I heard Tho's car arriving back.

Pote and his girlfriend had evidently gone forth to pick up Tho from somewhere to bring home ─ Tho had himself another short day at work, obviously. He told me yesterday that there is a shortage of business at the mattress factory or whatever it is that engages him, so he has been getting let out early this week.

Fortunately, only Tho came into the house ─ the other two left again with his car.

But I won't be cooking the ground beef.  Instead, I have a package of two turkey thighs thawing in the sink.

On another matter, I received a Google notification this morning that it had automatically created a collage of four photos of mine from this date in 2012 ─ this is it:


Three of the images relate to an outing I participated in with my wife Jack and her two sons ─ we ended up having a meal at what may have been the Shang Noodle House in Richmond.

The bottom two photos are inside the restaruant, and the top left one is one I took as we were making our way back to Jack's car:




The other photo was taken on the backyard sundeck after we all had gotten home again:


I rather enjoy these occasional automated collage-reminders of past photos and events.

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I wish that resveratrol supplements weren't so expensive ─ I had to quit buying them after my employment salary ceased and I had to rely on a pension income back in 2011.

It's known that resveratrol is able to somehow reduce the inflammation within us that ─ while necessary to fight infections, for instance ─ can run amok, as in cases of many auto-immune disorders.

Research has now found that resveratrol is able to help overcome a specific pathogen that is behind upper respiratory conditions like bronchitis, pneumonia, attacks of asthma, and chronic obstructive pulmonary diseases (COPD), as well as enable a reduction in inflammation by enhancing a protein known as MyD88 short which imposes limits upon the inflammation response.

The reports I have found concerning the study are rather formidable for my comprehension due to the little scientific knowledge I have in this area, but I will list two:

News.GSU.edu

COPDnewsToday.com

A truly 'dumbed-down' report that may nonetheless faciliate better understanding is here:


While I was researching this study, I stumbled across what appears to be bad news for folks with multiple sclerosis (MS) insofar as concerns resveratrol.

You can tackle that report on still another recent study for yourself over at news-medical.netResveratrol worsens MS-like neuropathology and inflammation, study finds.

I have already spent longer on this topic than I allotted for ─ I dare not get deflected off into this additional area.

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I don't think that it was more than two or three days ago that I included information on a study that has found how bisphosphonates ─ a class of medication prescribed for people suffering from osteoporosis ─ can bring on the 'wet' form of age-related macular degeneration.

Oddly enough, bisphosphonates can even result in bone breakage ─ including that of the strongest bone in the human body, the femur (thigh bone).

This was a report I offered on the potential of failing vision due to the medication:


Options to bisphosphonates include vitamin D3 and vitamin K2 supplementation, but I have also learned that "consumption of olives, olive oil and olive polyphenols has been shown to improve bone health."

I took that quote from the abstract of this recent study:  Olives and Bone: A Green Osteoporosis Prevention Option.

One study mentioned how olive leaf extract ─ rich in oleuropein ─ increased the blood osteocalcin levels by 32% after a year of treatment.

As the Wikipedia article on osteocalcin states, "higher serum-osteocalcin levels are relatively well correlated with increases in bone mineral density (BMD)."

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There is a very good report discussing how the sugar industry bamboozled the world in the 1960s, and successfully got everyone to focus upon dietary fats and cholesterol as the culprits behind increasing coronary heart disease (CHD) ─ when sugar itself was a huge risk factor.

And of course, sugar still is an enormous risk factor for heart disease, as well as diabetes. 

Remember, carbohydrates break down into sugar or sucrose, so 'high-carb' diets are unquestionably injurious.

The article ─ and it is a good read ─ was published on October 10 at DrMicozzi.comHow big sugar got such a sweet deal for so long.

It gave two references ─ the second one is available in its entirety at JAMAnetwork.comLowering the Bar on the Low-Fat Diet.

The second reference only yields the abstract of the study being referred to, but the entire study is available at DrPerlmutter.com as a six-page .pdf document:  Sugar Industry and Coronary Heart Disease Research │ A Historical Analysis of Internal Industry Documents.

We just cannot trust the 'Big Food' industry ─ they have done nothing but corrupt true food, polluting and denaturing it.

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The Sun seems to have some prevalence this latter afternoon.

But I am going to close now with a 41-year-old entry from my journal, back when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

The house I was renting the small unit in was situated on Ninth Street at Third Avenue.
MONDAY, October 20, 1975

My possibly fateful welfare appointment day, and I slept quite badly, finally getting up just about 5:30 a.m.; but I wasn't preoccupied with the meet.

I did my laundry early this overcast morn, having the entire time there to myself.

I even cleared up all my exercises before 12:30 p.m., having lied down from 11:00 a.m. - 12:00 p.m.

I kept my 1:30 p.m. welfare rendezvous.  

David Prince was in line before me, and we talked. 

Doug Hardy was there, and so were Moose & Paula.  

I stood the entire time.

Finally ─ I don't know when ─ Mr. Jeffs pushed ahead my appointment to 9:00 a.m. November 14 due to lack of time; I walked up to Bill's, and am certain I arrived sometime after 4:30 p.m.

His mother was with him, and because of this, we did not go to mom's and begin amassing bread-making supplies as projected; I went along as he took home his mother, and was driven home in turn.

Bed:  7:00 p.m.
I was only employed one day a week through an employment initiatives or incentives programme in place between my employer and New Westminster social services.  I didn't entirely know why social services had summoned me in, but I feared that it was going to be a review of my situation ─ and of course, I was fearing that it would be to my detriment.

The laundry I took care of was in a laundromat that I believe was on Sixth Avenue, very near to the public library.  It would have been most unusual to have had the place entirely to myself throughout. 

I probably did not expect to see the mass of people at the social services offices ─ which I think were on Sixth Street, not too very far above Columbia Street, and on the left-hand side of Sixth Street as one walked downhill.  

Philip David Prince was an old friend who was also living in a room in New Westminster.  

I have absolutely no memory of a "Doug Hardy."  "Moose" was a (former?) co-worker of my old friend William Alan Gill, but I do not recall "Paula." 

Russ Jeffs was my social worker ─ a rather ruddy-complexioned, reddish-haired, elderly Englishman who was really quite likeable.

I expect that I should have written that my appointment was pushed back; but since time is experienced as the finite creatures that we are, the appointment had indeed been pushed quite far ahead into the future.  

I must have waited at least 2½ hours, though, before the rescheduling.

Dear friend Bill lived fairly close to my room ─ he was renting a bachelor suite.  His mother Anne Gregory was ─ I think ─ living in Maillardville in a house she was renting. 

This is the first time in my journal I mentioned anything about bread-making supplies, so I have no idea what that was all about.

I commonly wrote portions of a day's journal entry at several sittings over the course of the day, and undoubtedly I often forgot what I might or might not have written in previous entries.

Also, I never realized that I would be sitting here in 2016 reading what I had written, and have lost recollection of so many tiny details ─ such as what this bread-making affair was to have involved.

These entries are such mind-trips.
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