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Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Licorice │ Kidney Damage: Eight Bad Habits │ Reinforcing the Blood-Brain Barrier

My younger brother Mark spent some of yet another evening passed out in front of the T.V. yesterday. My wife Jack had come home earlier ─ the latter afternoon. And she was to remain for the night.

After I was certain that she had gone to bed, I finished up a game of FreeCell that I was playing, and then I joined her. It was nearing 12:10 a.m.

What a bad night's sleep!

Part of the trouble was attributable to the heat. Still, I managed to remain abed the entire night, never bothering to have a bathroom break and/or drink some water.

Shortly after 6:00 a.m. upon checking the clock, I decided to try one last time for another snatch of sleep before getting up ─ I tried lying on my stomach for the first time that night.

I did manage to eventually lapse into some sleep, but when I came out of it I was reacting s if I was nearly asphyxiated. I'm unsure precisely what the problem was ─ perhaps a combination of blocked nasal passageways and having my face so closely pressed to the bedding.

It was not just uncomfortable, but it was even alarming.

I saw that the time was 7:19 a.m., so as ill-slept as I felt myself to be, I rose. I wanted to get started setting up a new post at my Latin Impressions website ─ the poorest performing of all six of the hosted websites that I presently keep online.

Unfortunately, Jack rose about an hour after I did, so I never managed to get the preliminary groundwork on the post completed.

Her youngest son Poté had risen ahead of her and left for work. But her eldest son Tho never bothered going to work. And as usual, I don't know if the 22-year-old is just too damned irresponsible; or if he was alerted that there was insufficient business to merit coming in today.

That latter possibility seems unlikely, since we have just had a three-day long-weekend in which nothing was going on at the plant or factory or whatever business he works at ─ the company seems involved in producing things like mattresses, bedding, and related items.

Normally having either of my stepsons home during the week when I am supposed to be enjoying my 'alone time' is exacerbating, but my wife Jack already had my day's routine disrupted.

She got busy cooking immediately after getting up ─ she went directly to the kitchen, in fact. And of course, she had some excitable words in Thai to direct at Tho when she found him seated at the boys' computer in their den area, and not away to work.

It developed that much of what Jack was to cook was not for the household. Rather, she had plans to go and visit the Thai Buddhist temple (Wat Budhapanyanantarama) in Burnaby. She was to leave here just ahead of 10:30 a.m., and not return until about 2:30 p.m.  

Meanwhile in her absence, I managed some exercise in the backyard tool shed in the latter morning before it got too darned hot this exclusively sunny day; and then I had a very light first meal of the day. I topped the meal off with my first helping of the fermenting purple cabbage and purple onions that I set up early last week ─ it's deliciously tart!

I followed that with 40 minutes seated out in the sunshine in the backyard, but this time I gave my back some exposure. Had this been a day entirely unto myself, I would have lied down on the sundeck while I was attired in a pair of fairly brief shorts.

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I confess to having very little to do with herbs. I just cannot afford to be involved with them ─ there are far, far too many helpful herbs out there.

Consequently, all I know of licorice is the taste yielded from the licorice-flavoured candy I might have eaten when I was much younger (candy has no place in my life any longer).

However, evidently licorice has an extremely long history as a medicinal herb. It is the root that merits this attention.

If you have any interest in the plant, then the following article  may appeal to you:

LifeSpa.com

I wasn't even aware that there was any controversy or confusion relating to a reputation it had developed for an elevation of blood pressure.

But as I said, I am unlikely ever to be consuming the root nor any extract from it.

ùùùùùùù

Most of us do not give our kidneys the consideration that they deserve. How many of these bad habits that can damage them apply to you?

DrMicozzi.com

Number four in that list is "infrequent bathroom visits."

Just recently I read a ridiculous article that made the claim that having a pee "just because" every time a person is about to leave the house is actually detrimental to the health of the bladder because it makes it lazy.

In other words, the bladder is not being trained to control itself, and the practice of having a pee every time a person is leaving the house will lead to a weakening of the bladder's ability to contain a load.

Or some silly argument to that effect.

Well, I don't just 'pop out' in a car and get back home again in short order. I walk. And sometimes I am gone for 1½ hours or longer if I am out on a shopping errand.

If I do not ensure that I leave home with an empty bladder, then I am courting trouble ─ especially if I have been drinking coffee.

What blather!

I wonder if people read crap like that and believe it?

ùùùùùùù

Just as we do not want a "leaky gut" (or increased intestinal permeability), neither do we want anything passing through the blood-brain barrier that the body was never designed and intended to allow.

A breakdown in either barrier will only lead to pathological conditions, and I would think that we would probably want to be especially concerned of anything gaining access to our brains that ought not to have such access!

Recent research has discovered something we can easily include in our diets to preserve the blood-brain barrier, firming up its fortress-like defences:

HSIonline.com

ScienceDaily.com

I take a quality wild-sourced salmon and other fish oil supplement twice a day. I know that the older I get, the less I have going for me in my favour.

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My wife Jack is still home at 6:14 p.m., so I had better get today's post wound up before my brother Mark is home from the bar and it becomes time to turn on the T.V. for the evening.

On this date 41 years ago I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster. I was renting the little spot I had in a house located on Ninth Street, and perhaps two houses up from Third Avenue.

Here is an entry for that date from my journal.

To preface it, I had been out drinking in Cloverdale the day before ─ a Saturday ─ with my old friend William Alan Gill and his mother Anne Gregory, even though I only had $10 to my name. Nevertheless, I managed to put away a heck of a lot of beer ─ part of the reason being that I recognized an old schoolmate from the latter 1950s when I was a student at Surrey Centre Elementary School

It was Harry Klassen ─ how could we not reminisce? We arranged that we would get together the following weekend.

Bill probably didn't live much more than four blocks from my room; and fortunately, he loved to drive his car.

Despite feeling rough, I had plans for the day of hiking out to visit my mother Irene Dorosh who was living with her husband Alex in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey. Their little home no longer exists, but its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue. 

It was my main mailing address.

The hike to get there was approximately 1½ hours of quick-paced trekking.
SUNDAY, May 23, 1976

I slept extremely poorly due to my over-drinking. I have $4 out of $10. I got up at 4:15 a.m.

I am leaving for mom's about 8:00 a.m. taking a note explaining for Bill, as we're to shop today; I hope I don't get caught in a rain.

It actually got sunny.

Michelle & Pamela were at mom's (Mark, Cathy, & Daboda are out at Silver Creek for the week-end), and Sherry came soon after. Everyone was supposed to be going to Silver Creek also, and this they finally set off to do shortly before noon; mom left me 2 pieces of chicken.

My mail: Weirdbook Ten, an Olympic Lottery ticket (for the past draw) and a new Western, a letter from the Worldwide Church of God and a $16 tithe receipt, a Donald M. Grant flyer, a letter each from Ron and Terri, and my vitamins for which I yet owe Sunburst $2.

I managed to get hold of Bill about 12:45 p.m., and he said they'd soon be over. 

Then he phoned back; Harry was in town trying to get hold of me to treat me to the rodeo. 

This was a real downer, and we were in a dither on what to do. The guy was going to wait for me.

So Bill picked me up, we shopped at O'Farrell's, then headed for Harry at my place.

I discovered that he even wanted me to stay overnight.

We got him to go to Mud Bay, and with our dozen cider, we unhooked ourselves at last. It was after 6:00 p.m. when we broke up.

Back at Bill's I put on my steak to boil with some beans, and Bill began on his roast. So I ate my banana cream pie and rather filled up. I could only manage half my meal when it was done.

I accompanied Bill to take his mother home soon after 8:30 p.m., quite soon after Norman phoned inviting us over; I fobbed him off that we'd try to get out tomorrow. being tied up with Bill's mom.

Anyway, I stayed at Bill's till 11:00 p.m., then headed home and was abed by 11:30 p.m.

Note: at mom's I weighed into the mid-190s!
I can't remember just where Silver Creek is ─ likely somewhere out towards the Chilliwack or Hope area, I would guess. 

Michelle Lee and Pamela Susan were the two little girls of my brother Mark's beautiful girlfriend, Catherine Jeanette Gunther. Sherry is the daughter of my older maternal half-sister Phyllis.

Daboda was Mark's German shepherd.

Harry Klassen had shown up unannounced.

I don't quite remember Bill and I going to Mud Bay with Harry, but I remember that we backed off on going to the rodeo ─ poor Harry had even sprung for tickets, and was going to be out their cost. 

I didn't want to have to spend a few hours sitting in a rodeo, with just $4 to my name. It would have been oppressive. I wouldn't even have been able to afford to drink.

And the idea of having to spend the night so far from home ─ while essentially broke ─ was no attraction whatsoever. 

The ciders that Bill and I had were left over from the previous weekend.

I always felt bad about this fiasco concerning Harry. It was the last I was to hear from him ─ he must have been supremely disappointed in everything. But he shouldn't have just taken for granted that I had absolutely nothing else that I wanted to do with my day.

I see that Bill and I still did our shopping before getting to New Westminster and Harry ─ "O'Farrell's" was a supermarket in Surrey at 96th Avenue & Scott Road (120th Street).

Later that day, I had to tell a bit of a fib to my old friend Norman Richard Dearing when he phoned over to Bill's suite, wanting us to come out to where he was staying at the Dearing family home quite deep into Surrey. It was getting late, and I was undoubtedly tired ─ as well as overfull from eating with Bill and his mother.

By the way, the two letters I mentioned receiving at my mother's home: Ron Bain and Terri Martin were both American pen-pals that I had back then.

And I think I pretty much covered that journal entry! It is now 7:09 p.m., and Jack is still here. I have to get this proofread, and then I will publish it.
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