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Friday, November 25, 2016

The Cancer Industry │ Turkey Tips │ The Latest Cranberry Health Benefits' Research

My wife Jack spent her second consecutive night here at home, although it was well after 1:00 a.m. last night before I noticed that she had gone to bed and I was able to join her.

Earlier, for awhile I had needed to lie on the chesterfield in the living room with the T.V. running, and just vegetate a little ─ I had been overcome with weariness and a chill.

I got up once or twice during the night to use the bathroom, but ahead of 7:00 a.m. I had the strangest sensation postnasally and in my throat.  It felt like a sensitive area in back of my throat that I have always labelled as my cough centre was being stimulated.

There is technically a 'cough centre' within the brain, but for me the sensitive throat area seems almost unique to me in that no one else I know has the same automatic response that triggers coughing.

For example, if I am faced with a very hot and spicy soup, and I sip the juice from a spoon that I am eating with, the spicy vapours getting inhaled with the sip will immediately engage and I will commence choking, with much shedding of tears.

Yet I can swallow the juice without an issue if I am careful not to allow it to contact that area I call my cough centre, which may be rather high at the back of the roof of my mouth.

In fact, it is easier to just drink down spicy soup juice than to sip it from a spoon ─ the trick seems to be to keep the spicy vapours and juice itself from touching whatever is so darned sensitive at the upper part of my throat in the area where the nasal cavity opens into the throat.

But I am getting carried away trying to explain.  Suffice to say that I felt some tickling urge to cough, but it was peculiarly different.

I actually had the sensation of something crawling upwards back there ─ so much so that I even wondered if it might be possible that something alive was indeed doing just that, wriggling upwards.

I had coughed a little there in bed, trying to suppress the intensity of that action so as not to be too disturbing to Jack.

But it became too much to endure.  I rose and entered my younger brother Mark's bedroom to access his ensuite, as far from Jack as possible.  Mark had earlier gone to work.

Shutting the door, I then proceeded to do all that I could to irrigate my nasal passageways and my throat.  I spent considerable time at this task, with much coughing and even a couple of sneezes.

I may have exceeded 15 minutes.

In that time, I became aware that something was happening in the kitchen downstairs where I knew that my youngest step-son Pote and his overnighted girlfriend were cooking. 

And I came to suspect that they were likely roasting and crushing chili peppers in a frying pan ─ my wife Jack will sometimes do this with a great many at once, saving the crushed results in a container for future use in spicy dishes.

People generally react with some coughing when this is happening, as do I ─ I seem more sensitive, though, than my Thai wife and her sons.  I blame that area in my throat I identify as my personal cough centre.

So I concluded that the two young idiots were involved in initiating the reaction in me.

When I had settled down enough that I thought I could return to bed, I discovered that Jack had gotten up and was downstairs.

I could hear no talking, however.  I did not know it, but Pote and his girlfriend had left in my eldest step-son Tho's car.

I came here to my computer to do some work on the new post I have underway at one of my six hosted websites.

Eventually, Jack came upstairs and wordlessly went back to bed.  I worked on until I felt that I had done enough for the morning, and then went downstairs to ensure the front door was locked ─ I planned to go and lie on my brother Mark's bed.

The front door was locked, but the sundeck's sliding glass door was open by at least a foot, and in front of it was a frying pan quite full of toasted red chilis.  Apparently Jack had taken over from the two nuisances, deciding that since the air was already tainted with their efforts at toasting some red chilis for themselves, she would continue and prepare a quantity to replenish the kitchen supply that had been depleted in her absence (she had been to Thailand for four weeks, returning just this past Monday).

Here are those chilis that Jack toasted ─ still in a frying pan on the floor by the sliding glass sundeck door:



She will pulverize them at some point and put the dried mass into a container for gradual cooking use.

So I closed and locked that door and came up to my brother's bedroom and sought a little further sleep.

It may not have yet been 10:00 a.m.

I did not do well, although some sleep did come in snatches ─ I was quite cold, even though I was fully dressed and covered with a very light comforter.

It was around 11:30 a.m. when I thought that I could hear noises (I was wearing earplugs), so I got up and discovered that Jack was now up.

And so I went downstairs, waiting for her to venture from where she was working in the kitchen ─ I had not yet had my day's first hot beverage.

She soon did leave the kitchen and went upstairs, and was soon showering.

I suspected that she was probably getting ready to go somewhere.

When she finally came downstairs, she was definitely 'dressed up' and all set to go.  I was in the dining area by the stereo reading the local free twice-weekly newspaper The Leader.

She announced that she was leaving for somewhere ─ the Thai temple (Wat Budhapanyanantarama) in Burnaby?  I couldn't hear her because I had the stereo rather loud ─ Vancouver radio station QMFM had begun playing their all-Christmas music format this morning.

However, I didn't ask her to repeat herself ─ she gets annoyed, always irrationally concluding that it is only because her English is so bad, and I am somewhat to blame for it.

Judging by the Southeast-Asian-style skirt she had on, I probably surmised correctly.

It was maybe 12:15 p.m. when I went outside with her to see her off.

We're just not close.  There was no token good-bye kiss, nor any conversation from her.  I tried, asking her if she is still missing her family, and she averred that she was.  But that is the extent of it.

She and I are both to blame for our distance from one another.

Anyway, I returned to the newspaper I had been reading; and then at about 12:45 p.m. as I was about to come upstairs here to my computer, I saw Pote driving into the driveway in his older brother's car; and as I feared, he still had his girlfriend with him.

I would not be home alone this afternoon.  Neither of them must have had to work today.

And in short order, the two were in bed together.  That is where they will likely remain until either Tho gets home, or else my wife Jack.

On another matter, yesterday in my post I was lamenting that I had seemed to be accruing an average of a mere penny a day to that point over the course of this month in my AdSense account; and that if that remained the norm, it would be over 27 years before I had accumulated the $100 required before Google makes a payout.

Well, knock me over!  When I checked my account just prior to commencing today's post, my account had accumulated $1.25 today so far.

How does that happen?  How can I feel lucky to earn a penny and not see a goose egg for the day, and then out of nowhere something like this crops out?

Well, the day may have been lost to me due to that bad night's sleep, but at least I have this.

And here it is 3:38 p.m. ─ Jack has just gotten home two or three minutes ago.  It seems that she had indeed been to the temple, and she shared with me that she became exceptionally sleepy there.

It must have been some kind of special occasion with a service.

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I often decry how the 'Cancer Industry' is all about profit, and that many "cancer patients" never had anything to worry about, but were quite profitably treated regardless ─ profitable for everyone involved in the 'Cancer Industry,' that is.

Not the patient.

Here is a superb overview of what is going on:

DrMicozzi.com

If you are curious, he published an identically-titled longer article almost three years ago:  The business of cancer.

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How many of us invest in an organic turkey for Thanksgiving and/or Christmas?

There was no Thanksgiving turkey in my home this year, but Christmas will undoubtedly be different.  However, I won't be purchasing it ─ my brother Mark probably already has one in our freezer.

Consumer Reports advanced the argument of why we should be looking at organic:

ConsumerReports.org

For me, cost would likely be the major factor prohibiting acquisition of an organic turkey, but I have to confess I have not priced any.

Also, I am unsure if turkeys offered for sale here in British Columbia are quite as polluted as U.S. birds ─ I just don't know.

However, there are other considerations around those big feasts beyond the origin of one's turkey.  Just look at what NewMarketHealth.com put forth on the topic of healthy holiday eating.  They were focused on Thanksgiving, but the advice applies for Christmas and New Year's, too ─ or any other time the family is having a huge celebratory meal:
...Here are some tips on how to avoid the top five Thanksgiving dinner dangers -- and to make the very best selections for your Thanksgiving table:
  1. Stuffing: Sometimes I think stuffing is more popular than the turkey! Its basics should be pretty simple – bread or cornbread, with fat, herbs and seasonings. Yet the ingredients in most boxed stuffing mixes typically sound like a high school chemistry experiment. They commonly contain such risky additives as MSG, preservatives, trans fats and high fructose corn syrup.
    The Fix: Read the ingredient label, and don't buy ones with unpronounceable, chemical ingredients or any of the additives listed above. Seasoned and quickie stuffing mixes are loaded with these things, so look for simpler versions and add your own seasonings. 
  2. Green beans: Even if you don't make grandma's green bean casserole, this veggie is a Thanksgiving staple. It turns out, however, that green beans are sprayed with not only more pesticides than other veggies, but the ones used on them are the most toxic. Consumer Reports has put green beans on its "very high risk" category every year since 1992!
    The Fix: There's only one thing to do where green beans are concerned, and that's to buy organic -- even if you get them frozen.
  3. Cranberries: If you check the label on many big-name brands of cranberry sauce, you'll find they are loaded with HFCS. And that turns this amazingly healthy fruit into one that's anything but.
    The Fix: There's actually nothing easier than making your own cranberry sauce, and every bag of fresh berries has a recipe. Or, find a canned or jarred version that uses cane sugar instead of HFCS.
  4. Pumpkin pie: It wouldn't be a proper Thanksgiving without it! But not all pumpkin pies are created equal. If you take the time to read the list of ingredients on most frozen ones, you'll probably have no idea what many of them are after "pumpkin." Plus that, you're likely to also be serving up a good dose of artery-clogging trans fats, which may well have been used in the crust.
    The Fix: If you have a good local bakery that bakes from scratch -- with good ingredients, of course -- that's one option. Another is to get an organic ready-made graham-cracker crust (most conventional ones also have trans fats) and a can of organic pumpkin pie mix. With that, some eggs and evaporated milk, you can make a homemade pie in no time at all.
  5. Turkey: And last, but not least, the main event. It may look perfect, but what you won't see are residues of both antibiotics and a dangerous asthma drug many conventional birds are fed to help them get bigger, called ractopamine. And get this, even the FDA doesn't know how much of this risky med might still be in your turkey when you serve it, because no one tests for it!
    The Fix: I know, organic turkeys cost more, but that's the only way to be sure your turkey hasn't been basted with risky chemicals, shot full of antibiotics and force-fed an asthma drug. And having that peace of mind is certainly worth spending a little more for.
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Cranberry sauce figures largely into many families' holiday feasts.  As you should have noted just above, the consumer must be vigilant to avoid HFCS.

Recent research on fruit flies has uncovered that cranberries can do far more than help beat a urinary tract infection.

And the magic seems to be due to cranberries' proanthocyanidins (PACs): 

EurekaAlert.org
Study author, Dr. [Nathalie] Tufenkji, elaborates on what this might mean for humans, as opposed to flies, "This means that cranberries could be part of the arsenal used to manage infections and potentially minimize the dependence on antibiotics for the global public."

To further explain cranberries' impact on bacteria, Dr. [Eric] Déziel said, "Cranberry PACs interrupt the ability for bacteria to communicate with each other, spread and become virulent -- a process known as quorum sensing. The cranberry extract successfully interferes with the chain of events associated with the spread and severity of chronic bacterial infections."
Here is another report on the study:

Newsmax.com

I might try to incorporate cranberries and blueberries year-round into my diet by buying frozen ones, but I have to say that I never see any in the supermarkets I frequent.

One cannot buy what is not there.

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My wife Jack is certainly effective at making me feel marginal.  And lonely.

I hung about downstairs while she cooked, but she never once addressed me.

It was only when both of her sons were available that she lit up and has been in vigorous conversation with them.  Right now at 5:09 p.m., they are talking to family back in Thailand ─ probably a free video-call using the Line application.

I had long since given up the lonely vigil downstairs and had come up here to continue work on this post.  What else can I do?

Besides, as much as I love the stereo's Christmas music, being near it exasperates my tinnitus ─ a condition that has only become serious this year.

And it has just occurred to me that my youngest step-son Pote just turned 19 yesterday ─ I had entirely forgotten.  Oddly, I never noticed Jack doing anything special for him that day.

I am going to close with a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting the small unit in a house located on Ninth Street at Third Avenue.

However, for the four previous consecutive nights, I had been sleeping at the home of my brother Mark and his girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther.

They were living in Whalley ─ a rented home located on Bentley Road, quite near to 108th Avenue & King George Highway.  They needed me to tend to their German shepherd Daboda while they were away to Calgary to enjoy the celebration attendant upon the 63rd Grey Cup game that was played there when Edmonton managed a win over Montreal.

There was no shortage of walking for me, since I did not drive!  
TUESDAY, November 25, 1975

I had difficulty getting to sleep last night.

Then late into the night, Mark & Cathy came pounding to be let in.

We sat up a couple hours, and I drank 2 26-oz bottles of his "beer."

Then we all retired.

I soon awoke, and clandestinely packed my things, and left, leaving behind some onions and all the butter intentionally.

I went straight to bed, it being maybe 7:15 a.m., feeling ill as, I guess, a result of ingesting Mark's green brew.

About 10:00 a.m. I shook myself aware and arose after dreaming that, during a cover-gathering episode between Cathy & I (we & Mark were sharing a huge bed somewhere), she began to strongly mouth-kiss me.

I awoke, not wanting to so treat Mark; too bad, I might have had a wet dream if all panned out.

I laundered, buying Claw #5 in the process, and returned home about noon.

I grabbed a couple hours nap time, feeling at my limit; very gradually I am getting my exercises out of the way.

I watched some night TV after deliberation, and at 10:30 p.m. left to do my morning 12 laps, for come the morn I feel I will be too worn out; I shall retire shortly after midnight, and plan to sleep in a mite.
I did not know when Mark and Jeanette ("Cathy") were returning ─ I only knew they had gone because Mark left a note on my room's door soliciting me to babysit Daboda.

I fully expected that they would be gone a week.

The beer was Mark's first project at brewing it.  As I said in a previous post, it tasted more like a cider.

I remember that he once had a batch of beer that was still so ripe with yeast that ─ once the bottle cap came off ─ it would slowly foam out until the bottle was at risk of being emptied.  A person had to drink consistently in order to avoid losing too much to the foaming.

I don't know if this was that batch.

I probably left in the night to return to my room because I didn't want to get tied down at their home the next day.

That was quite the dream I must have had later in the morning ─ I adored Jeanette for the most part, and thought that she was about as 'hot' as a young woman could be.

Next up was a hike to the laundromat that I think was located on Sixth Avenue by the public library.

I find it interesting that I have no memory of the comic-book series Claw the Unconquerd.

The laps I went off to run late in the evening were done at the New Westminster Secondary School track.  I normally would do any such running very early in the morning.

But back to the present ere I close off for today.

Jack left us just after 5:45 p.m. to probably return to Vancouver.  I expect that it will be a couple of days before she is back.

At least she gave me a hug.
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