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Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Antidepressants Essentially Double Suicide Risk │ Yoga: Seniors at Three Times the Risk of Injury │ Coffee Proven to Protect Against Dementia

As expected, my wife Jack showed up last evening ─ perhaps around 8:45 p.m.  My younger Mark had in fact just gotten home ahead of her, and had to open the door for her ─ her arms were full, and she was trying to fetch her house key.  Mark explained that the door had not been locked. 

I continued to watch T.V. via the Android TV Box, as very soon did Mark.  Jack fussed in the kitchen.

She had some words with her youngest son Pote, and he anon left ─ I never noticed if he took off in his older brother Tho's car (Tho was not home), or if he used the car Jack drives.

Eventually, he was to return with both Tho and Pote's omnipresent girlfriend.

Around 10:20 p.m. Mark headed on upstairs to his bedroom.  Some while later, Jack and Tho were eating together.

When Tho at last went to bed, I sought some conversation with Jack, but she was not forthcoming.  Apart from asking me what it was that I had eaten for supper, she never offered any conversation that was not in response to something from me.

She was soon upstairs, and I quickly noticed that only she and I were still up.

So I turned off the T.V. after a short time, and came upstairs here to my computer.

Before long, she emerged from the bathroom and enquired if I needed to use it ─ I assumed that she planned further occupation of the facilities, so I took advantage.

When she resumed its occupation, I retired to bed with a blindfold.  I will venture that it was probably at least 12:30 a.m., and may well have been considerably later than that.

She didn't seem to take too long in the bathroom, and was reasonably soon in bed herself.

No conversation.

My infernally clogging nasal passageways became bothersome in the later hours of my night.  Towards 6:00 a.m. I had to rise and spend about 15 minutes in the bathroom doing my best to gain clearance.

I finally rose for the day at 8:30 a.m.

Jack likely slept no better than she usually does, and she never rose until around 11:00 a.m., if not a little later.  I was able to put in more work than anticipated upon the new post I have been working on since Friday at  one of my hosted websites.  Possibly tomorrow I will have it finished and published.

Jack's taciturn demeanor continued.

Upon asking concerning a road test that she had scheduled for today, I learned that it was set for 2:30 p.m.

Pote and his girlfriend never got up until long after Jack. 

Pote approached me around 1:00 p.m. to speak of the eye examination I was to have undergone today at 3:30 p.m.  I had been ruing it all the morning and into the afternoon.

Pote had set up the appointment for me last week without consulting me first.  He was just exuberant because he recently acquired glasses from the clinic, and he knew that I have poor eyes.

Well, it seems that he contacted the clinic and learned that because I did not intend to buy prescription glasses, the test would cost $95.  Otherwise, the test would have been free.

So we cancelled.

Shortly before 2:00 p.m., Jack left for her road test without a word to me, although she had plenty to exchange with Pote.  I didn't even know for certain if she would be returning home.

It hurt.

Well, she was back around 3:10 p.m., and now more communicative.  It seems that she flunked the road test ─ something about a failure to check over her shoulder.  So she continues to operate as a Novice ('N').

I guess because she was feeling somewhat sheepish, she was more talkative.

Pote and his girlfriend left just ahead of 4:00 p.m. in the car Jack drives, and Tho went with them ─ evidently Pote's girlfriend has to go to work, and Tho was going to his own girlfriend's home, I expect.  (Pote's girlfriend had showered here earlier.)

Obviously Pote wasn't going to work, and I just bloody don't get it!  As far as I know, he hasn't worked since at least Saturday, yet he's supposed to have two jobs?

Having him home all the time just bums me.

And apparently Tho never went to work.  I had started hearing his sleepy voice downstairs in the early afternoon.

Atop the aggravations, Jack turned off the stereo in the living room.  My Christmas music station evidently wasn't sitting well with her.  And why would it?  She's Thai, after all; and she only came here to Canada just over 10½ years ago at the age of  33.

Why should Christmas music mean anything to her?  She never grew up with Christmas.

No wonder I want out, and often feel I am nearing madness.

I did at least go downstairs after awhile and turned it back on, seating myself in the living room to listen to the station.

I will leave off further discussion of my afternoon now and just post a few more photos that Jack took when she visited the Ayutthaya ruins for the first time in her life this past October 30 (or thereabouts).

I cannot offer any descriptions, since I was not present:


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Booze is the only antidepressant I will ever take. 

Sure, it doesn't always bring a temporary relief from emotional pain, but at least it's not going to screw me up like mood medications ultimately will.

And at the age of 67, any chance that I would become a serious lush would have played its hand long before now.

A deep analysis was recently published that investigated 13 previous studies that had been done on non-depressed volunteers who were asked to take therapeutic doses of SSRI and SSNI antidepressants.

The antidepressants were found to double the risk of developing the sort of emotions that might bring on a suicide.

This report about the analysis is quite comprehensive, and links to some other reports on the study:

NHS.uk

As the report early states, there are attacking critics who do not agree with the study ─ what are the odds that every one of them is involved in the promulgation of these medications, and are maybe even financially affiliated with the pharmaceutical industry?

This was the simple and clear conclusion of the study:
Antidepressants double the occurrence of events in adult healthy volunteers that can lead to suicide and violence. We consider it likely that antidepressants increase suicides at all ages.
What more need be said?

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I recognize the value of yoga, even though I do not participate in any.  The same goes for meditation.

Nevertheless, a recently published study has found that for seniors, injuries were at least three times more likely than for younger people.  As one of the researchers phrased it:
"For all injuries, the actual risk might be higher than our numbers show, as we surveyed results only from those who sought medical attention in an emergency department."
So those injuries were just the ones that sent the seniors to an ER?  Well, of course there would be many other injuries that were not quite that severe!

Here are a couple of reports on the study:

AlabamaNewsCenter.com

ScienceDaily.com

The links to the study in both of those articles only brought up a blank page for me.  I did, however, locate it at ncbi.nlm.nih.govYoga-Related Injuries in the United States From 2001 to 2014.  

Its conclusion:
Yoga is a safe form of exercise with positive impacts on various aspects of a person’s health; however, those wishing to practice yoga should be cautious and recognize personal limitations, particularly individuals 65 years and older. National standards for yoga instructor certification should be created and should more aggressively teach information about safety and injury prevention.
I can't quit thinking just what seniors are trying to do that's actually breaking their bones during yoga practice!

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The following good news concerning coffee is something I recollect including information on some weeks ago, but it's good to keep refreshed on something like this ─ anything to counteract the onset of dementia!

Here are some reports on the revealing study that brought this forth:

WashingtonPost.com

MedicalNewsToday.com

HSIonline.com

That latter report had some other important information extolling coffee, as well as some advice as to when to stop drinking it during one's day.

The study's last words:
Future experiments should be conducted to understand the mechanisms by which caffeine can potentiate memory. Given the widespread use of caffeine and the growing interest in its effects both as a cognitive enhancer and as a neuroprotectant, these questions are of critical importance.
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My wife Jack left just ahead of 5:30 p.m. to return to Vancouver

She had to wait, though, until youngest son Pote returned home with the car she drives.  For some while, she and I sat on the chesterfield in the dark living room that was only illuminated by some Christmas lights, and not a word of conversation was exchanged.

This is where we are in our marriage.  It was a silent wait.

There was no token good-bye kiss nor even a hug, even though she will be gone for several days.  

I was somewhat affected initially, but then I buried myself into this post.

I am going to close now 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 that small space in a house located on Ninth Street, maybe one or two houses up from Third Avenue.

The evening prior to this journal entry, I had gotten to bed at 8:00 p.m.
SATURDAY, December 13, 1975

I forced myself up approximately 2:15 a.m.; I saw that snow still fell.

It had stopped, I think, by the time I was ready to go jogging; but I just took one look at the pile-up, despaired, and abandoned my plan.  For this I could have slept in!

At 8:00 a.m. I sought a nap, arising at 11:00 a.m.

I had a weird dream wherein Brian or a similar boyfriend of Phyllis, and Mark, after the whole bunch were living together as well as some of the Halverson kids, in a punishing purge gave severe spankings to the entire lot of kids; the mothers in a helpless boil, packed off as many into Phyllis' or someone else's little car and, with a hate-argument 'tween the sexes flaring, set about forsaking the men; but I must agree the kids were consistently devils.

Bread-making is again impossible, for my oven still refuses to light; that previous ignition must have been a fluke.

Sometime later, I tried the oven again ─ successfully!  I think and hope the secret  is to just turn on the gas until it is flowing; then it will light.

So I mixed some bread, and during its first rise I did a half hour of stationary easy jogging.

I had trouble again with the oven, but know it now; the gas outlets are feeble and so I must use a piece of paper afire, using a running motion over them, in order to get all alight; the pilot is a waste of time.

My bread pleased me.

Bed at 9:30 p.m.
Phyllis is my older maternal half-sister.  Her relationship with Brian was not longstanding, and I had entirely forgotten his name until seeing it mentioned in an earlier journal entry.  The Halversons are maternal relatives.

My younger brother Mark was a strict disciplinarian with his girlfriend's two little girls ─ maybe realizing that inspired the dream.

I had lived in that small unit for some months without an oven, believing it to be non-functioning.  But then one recent day while playing about with it, I got it to fire up.

As for my bread-making skills, I was becoming good at it fast!  And this was flour and other ingredients yeast-raised from scratch ─ not some purchased pre-packaged mix.

It will be good to have some drinks within the hour.  I am ready ─ and have been.
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