.dropcap {float:left; color:#4791d2; font-size:75px; line-height:60px; padding-top:4px; padding-right:8px; padding-left:3px; font-family:Georgia}

Google+ Followers

Endless

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

CRA Refund Scam E-mail │ Most Parents Dispense Incorrect Amounts of Children's Medications

My dear wife Jack left to return to Vancouver yesterday fairly late in the afternoon, but had first prepared quite a lot of food for the household. She had spent Sunday night here at our home in the Whalley area.

My younger brother Mark didn't get home from the bar until sometime in the mid-evening, and thus there was only time to tune in one of the shows I generally select for our evening viewing.

However, he unconsciously enjoyed the episode that I had selected of the series Iron Fist ─ as often as not, this is his viewing methodology in the evenings, treating me to his unwanted periodic chokes, hacks, and strangled snores.

I wondered if I would be leaving him there when it came time for me to retire for the night, but he awoke once I had tuned in the news on regular T.V. programming; and if he went to his bedroom later than 10:40 p.m., it was not by too much.

It was 11:00 p.m. by the time I was in bed, and only my youngest stepson Poté and his girlfriend ─ who was here to sleep with him ─ were still up.

At one wakeful point in sleep overnight, just after 3:00 a.m. I had a bathroom break and drank some water. And although I returned to sleep, I was so awake shortly after 5:00 a.m. that it was practically uncomfortable trying for further sleep.

When I checked the time at 6:40 a.m., I rose to get to work on the post that I am building at my hosted website Thai-Iceland.

Often in the mornings like that I can smell the lingering cologne that my eldest stepson Tho douses himself with before he goes anywhere, such as to work. But I could detect nothing.

On a hunch once I had gone downstairs to make my day's first hot beverage, I peered to the far corner of the boys' den area and the door leading to where Tho sleeps ─ the door was closed tight, the generally sure indication that he had not left the room.

This was to bear out after 11:30 a.m. when he emerged to make a morning coffee.

There was something amiss with me this morning. I did not feel particularly hale at all, and my normally ringing ears had a different sensation involved that is too troublesome to try to describe.

It seemed very unlikely that I would be getting out to do some planned local grocery shopping. And I was correct about that.

I suspect that my condition was tied in with the migraine aura that beset me last evening while I was dealing with T.V., and forced me to spend the remainder of the evening viewing the television through a pair of UVEX S1933X Skyper Safety Eyewear that I acquired some months ago at the Canadian Amazon website for computer use. They are purported to be able to block all eye-damaging blue light that radiates from the screen.

The glasses work for T.V. screens, too, of course; and mine halted the progress of the burgeoning aura until it eventually subsided. But I was not about to risk a recurrence, so I spent the remainder of the evening with them on.

Anyway, this morning I did about half of the work that I had planned for today on the Thai-Iceland post, and then between 9:00 a.m. and 9:30 a.m., I returned to bed seeking a restorative nap.

I may have been down for as long as an hour, but I hardly felt any resurgence of vitality at rising anew. Nevertheless, I changed into shorts and went out to the backyard, doing what I could to rally myself to dare tackle a session of exercise in the tool shed.

I eventually got the whole of my current session accomplished, but I had to break up the session in order to reduce its strain.

When I came back into the house and was rounding up some of the fare my wife Jack had prepared yesterday, that was when Tho made his appearance.

I took the food up here to leave in the small bedroom that I use as my computer room, for I had no intention of eating yet ─ I still wanted to get in a session of sunning on the sundeck.

And so at 12:20 p.m., that sunbathing commenced until I called a halt at 1:35 p.m. I had heard Poté's girlfriend's voice while I was sunning, so I knew that the pair were finally up from bed.

Once back in the house, I at last had my first meal of the day; and then after preparing my day's second hot beverage, I got to work on this post.

I always check the latest balance showing at my AdSense account just before beginning a new post in this blog, and I was taken off guard to witness that $1.34 had been generated just today. I have been doing my best at deflecting discouragement because for three consecutive days earlier this month, nothing at all had been generated ─ not even one measly cent.

So how do days like today suddenly crop up?

Now speaking of money, when I logged into my main E-mail account this morning, I found the following:


I blocked out my actual E-mail address. But regardless, in the Google album where I filed this image, I went into great lengths to discuss it in the "Info" section for the image; and then when I closed the image and returned to it, I found out that Google now seems to limit the number of lines of text that it will allow in an image description ─ everything beyond that point was missing in the information I had composed.

So I deleted the partial final paragraph, and this is what now shows with the image:
I found the following scam message in my Inbox today ─ July 11, 2017.

Quite apart from the fact that CRA does not have my E-mail address ─ I have no intention of going paperless with them, so I never provide it ─ if they DID happen to have my address, then they would not identify me as "TAX payer" because they would know exactly who I am.

How else would they be issuing a tax refund to me if they didn't know who I was?

Here in Canada, the government would never indicate a monetary figure as "320,44$" ─ it would properly be presented as "$320.44."
Now allow me to comment further.

If this truly had been from Canada Revenue Agency and concerned a legitimate refund, then why would I need to access some form in order to be issued the money? Isn't it sufficient that I had already filed my tax return?

As it happens, I certainly did file a tax return earlier this year...and I also received my refund for that filing ─ it was directly deposited into my chequing account. And so would any additional money have been ─ if such were deemed to be owed to me after some further reassessment.

When I hovered my cursor over the link in the original text that said "Click here>>" ─ a web address at yuansebaby.com was displayed.

I did some research, and that domain is registered to someone named Zhaoping Lei who lists an address in Suzhoushi, Jiangsusheng, China.

Wikipedia has an article on a city called Suzhou located in southeastern Jiangsu Province of East China.

Well, call me overly suspicious for not believing that Canada Revenue Agency deals out of that location!

The last thing I would bring your attention to is when the message supposedly arrived in my Inbox: at 5:00 p.m., on December 29, 1899.

Really?

But let's move on to something else ─ a couple of reports that came out just recently concerning a study which uncovered that many parents unintentionally harm their children by administering prescription or 'over the counter' medication at improper dosages because the instructions that come with the medication just are not clear:

MedPageToday.com

HSIonline.com

Only the abstract or summary of the study is available for free, but this is it: Pictograms, Units and Dosing Tools, and Parent Medication Errors: A Randomized Study (doi: 10.1542/peds.2016-3237).

The first researcher listed on that study is H. Shonna Yin ─ quite an attractive lady indeed!

But I mention her only because she was involved with a similar study that made some news last September ─ these two reports that month tell of it:
Obviously this sort of medical murkiness is gaining press, but still nothing is being done about it.

We definitely need one standard for dosage administration ─ not a description that can be far too generalized such as a teaspoon, or one that is unlikely to be meaningful to a layman because few of us can identify an amount defined in cubic centimetres ('cc's).

I always had this same problem in my young adulthood when I would attempt to bake one thing or another according to recipes, but at least no one was going to be harmed when I would use a tea cup or small coffee cup to measure out the cups denoted in the recipe.

Where medications are concerned, an accurate measuring device really needs to be included with the product if the quantity being dispensed is going to be at all tricky to get correct.

The consumer should not have the full blame for these dosage mistakes ─ not by a long shot!

Alright, I am going to wrap up today's post now with this journal entry of mine from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting in a private home located on Ninth Street, and about two houses up from Third Avenue.

I believe that I know the precise address, but I do not wish to display it out of courtesy for whomever may own that house now.

I had been invited to a double-billing at a drive-in theatre the evening before, and so I never made it to bed until 2:25 a.m.
SUNDAY, July 11, 1976

I got up at 9:30 a.m. after a lay of off and on consciousness; the dame upstairs is laundering.

I made one of my glorious pizzas.

I typed Terri a short letter; I'll mail it later.

At about 4:00 p.m. I lied down, napping very well, and arising at 6:45 p.m. I had a NE, and a rather disturbing dream in which I was jogging down a steep hill when beset by 2 dogs from a nearby park. I stopped and turned quickly, and in braking, one dog tumbled off the road into the unfightable swift current of a river and was rushed out of sight. Further down, the river went underground, so I was distrubed ─ especially so cause the poor floppy pooch didn't appear vicious. Neither was its young, larger white friend who also hit the water, but managed shore. Coming near the road (there was snow on the banks) it fell into a drainage ditch, but I pulled it out to the road.

I guess there was sun enough today (as much as yesterday) for sunning, but I couldn't resist overeating on ⅔ of my pizza, which was superior to my first effort last week. Hence I'm going to make the dough beforehand and not have to worry about getting out of here early for sunning next week.

Delicious!

At 10:00 p.m. I'm going for a walk; I'll go down Cariboo Rd, along the freeway trail, and probably back along Canada Way.

I did, and got back at 12:40 a.m., well atoned for my earlier pizza glut.

Bed at 1:10 a.m.
The reason I mentioned the upstairs tenant doing her laundry was because she would come down into the basement to use the facilities that were there (and which I was not allowed to use ─ or at least, the landlady had never said that I could). You see, my toilet and shower facilities were outside of my room, and within that same basement area.

Consequently, since I was very socially disinclined and backward, I would never go into the basement to use the toilet if the landlady or the female tenant were abroad in that area. And as for showering, the shower would go completely dry once the washing machine was started.

The pizzas I mentioned making were entirely form scratch ─ right down to the dough I made by hand from flour and yeast.

The letter I typed up was for Terri Martin, an American pen-pal I had back then.

Now that late walk I undertook! Just to get to Cariboo road from my room was more walk than most young people today would bother tackling.

Now if you refer to this map, my route that night would have taken me well beyond the Trans-Canada Highway. I don't know what sort of trail enhancements exist today, but back then it was no easy matter to locate the end of the trail that existed next to the freeway (Trans-Canada Highway).

Burnaby Lake back then was essentially inaccessible from the trail that followed along beside the freeway all the way to what I suppose was Glencarin Drive ─ there was just too much virtually impenetrable tree and brush growth there at that time.

It seems to me that Sperling Avenue back then crossed over the Trans-Canada Highway, but it does not seem to do so today, according to the map.

Anyway, it is in that area that I would access Canada Way where it is located on the near side of the freeway, and then I would follow the Canada Way and work my way back to my room.

An even longer version of that walk was when I went to the far side of the lake to trek around that side of it before making my return to my room. Those hikes exceeded three hours, unless I got involved in a fair amount of jogging. 

Yes, I feel pretty much like a useless lump now in my later life.
Post a Comment