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Thursday, May 7, 2015

Lawns ─ Their Deadly Threat to Your Pet │ The Gut Bacteria Seemingly in Charge of All Others

If memory serves, I stayed up last night till nigh 12:45 a.m.

It seems to me that it was nearly 4:30 a.m. when I became aware enough to realize that my initial stretch of sleep had broken, so I visited the bathroom before my younger brother Mark began showering in the unit attached to his bedroom ─ it's unkind to flush the toilet whilst someone is showering.

By the way, he mentioned recently how he was busy having a shower in preparation for work when it occurred to him that his radio wasn't playing ─ he has his clock-radio set to a talk station (possibly CKNW).

So he finished up and checked the time...and it was only a little after 2:00 a.m.

Apparently he had gotten up to divest his bladder of a load of the distilled waste accumulated from his previous evening's beer-drinking, and then promptly forgot that he was only at the toilet for that reason alone ─ he thought that he had gotten up because it was time to ready for work.

Since he often passes out in front of the T.V. during the evening due to the effects of the beer he has been swilling since probably late afternoon, one must conclude that he does not feel particularly well even when he gets up to ready for work at this scheduled time of roughly 4:30 a.m.

So being up at 2:00 a.m. must have been a most unpleasant experience.

Anyway, all he was able to do thereafter was return to bed and lie there in as much a state of relaxation as he could muster until he truly did have to rise for work.

As for my night, I rose in the morning feeling oddly unwell.

I have no capacity to accurately describe my state, but it was definitely equivalent to having a pronounced hangover, but without the headache or any touchy stomach.

I knew that I would not be doing any outings today ─ whatever was amiss with me was not going to wear off in any sort of short order.

It was as if I was undergoing some sort of toxic reaction, but not one that was affecting my stomach in any fashion.

I wonder what a mini-stroke can be like?

There was a post at my Lawless Spirit website that I had set up yesterday, so I went to work on that.

Grade XII student Pote was up and left for school on time (he missed his fist period yesterday due to sleeping in), but I noticed Tho's car was still in the drive-way.  He hadn't gone to work.

Fortunately, he got up towards 8:30 a.m. and cleared out of the house by 9:00 a.m.  Whether he was simply late in leaving for work, or if he was not expected to put in a full day, I do not know.

I broke from my post-creation around 10:00 a.m., and then soon engaged in some lewd exploration of the Web.

By 11:30 a.m., my eyes were practically blurry from staring at the screen, so I did what needed to be done to end the charade and thereby satiate the prurient appetite that was keeping me hostage.

I was going to lie down, but then it occurred to me that it would be better to be outside in the backyard benefiting from the nearly faultlessly sunny weather.  I broke my fast with two boiled eggs, a good chunk of old cheddar cheese, and a dark plum.

And then I went and sat outside in just a pair of gym-style shorts, facing the Sun for better than half-an-hour.

I had no sooner started getting some exposure to my back when I heard my wife Jack call my name ─ she had unexpectedly come home from Vancouver.

She was to be home for a couple of hours, cooking some dishes for her sons and I, and doing a little house-cleaning.

Before she left around 3:00 p.m. to return to Vancouver, she had me take a few iPhone photos of her out in the back yard ─ these are three of the photos.

The first has her posed at the backyard fence that we have in common with the neighbour who owns the infernally noisy hound I would love to silence forever:

And these last two photos of her were taken in the shade on our sundeck:

With her departure, I got back to work on that Lawless Impressions post and finally got it published:  Holistic London II.

This had all set me back considerably where my blogging time was concerned ─ I would not be completing this post until after I finished my evening of T.V. watching.


Speaking of dogs, the Health Sciences Institute (HSI) had this brief report published about three days ago ─ a warning about something that most pet-owners likely do not even have in mind:
That perfect green lawn and your pooch just don't mix.

All those easy-to-buy lawn treatments, the ones that kill the weeds and make your backyard look like some Major League Baseball park, could be downright deadly for your dog.

One commonly used lawn chemical is called 2,4-D, and it's especially dangerous for Fido.

Studies have found that dogs are much more sensitive to its toxic effects than people are. It can cause acute kidney failure in pups, and may even cause deadly cancers to develop.

Research found that dogs living in homes where 2,4-D was used died of cancer at twice the expected rate. The dogs were much more prone to come down with lymphomas and non-Hodgkin's lymphomas.

And you'll want to steer clear of Roundup (glyphosate), a popular herbicide, too. The instructions will say that once dry, the area is safe for pets to be in. But the chemical has been found to cause diseases ranging from hormone disruption to all kinds of cancers. And I sure wouldn't let my pooch lick, roll and play where it's been used.

But still, you want a backyard that's not only safe, but looks good.

And you can have both. Here are some tips from the EPA (finally something useful for your tax dollars!), on how to maintain a healthy lawn without all the spraying.

•    Mow high, often and with sharp blades. This will produce stronger grass that has fewer pest problems. The EPA says that the ideal length for most turf grasses are between 2 ½ and 3 ½ inches.
•    Don't bag the clippings. By leaving clippings where they fall you'll not only be saving time and trouble, but will be recycling nitrogen that will make your grass healthier.
•    Water deeply but not too often. The best way to water your lawn is one that is similar to a slow, soaking rain. And water only when the grass begins to wilt from dryness.

And if you hire someone to do the lawn work for you, be sure to inform them that you don't want "chemical warfare" used on your property just because of some dandelions!

After all, what fun is a beautiful backyard where you have to post a sign on it saying "keep off the grass."
Health Sciences Institute (HSI) are a member of NewMarketHealth.com.

I also have a couple of worthwhile reports from Dr. William Campbell Douglass II that he also published about three days ago.

I don't watch whatever T.V. show millionaire Mark Cuban and his cronies are on ─ as you can see, I can't even name the stupid show.  And I can't say that I even know the name 'Mark Cuban' ─ I only have a familiarity with it now because of Dr. Douglass' article:

New billionaire-backed testing trend could get you killed
There are plenty of things you deserve as a patient: respect, quality care, and better magazines in the waiting room.

What you don't deserve is the "frog treatment."

That's when you're poked and prodded in every way you can imagine -- plus a few you can't -- like a frog in high-school biology class.

But obnoxious billionaire super-brat Mark Cuban wants you to get tested 'til you're ready to croak. He's urging folks to submit to just about every screening imaginable -- and to get tested for everything, every three months.

He says there's no such thing as too much information, and that may be true... when it comes to investing. I can't touch the guy's credentials in that department.

But when it comes to medicine, I've forgotten more than he'll ever know -- and I can tell you straight up that too much information won't just hurt you.

It could kill you!

Once you hit middle age, nothing in your body is shiny and new anymore. The older you get, the more likely you'll have a tumor or some other weird growth inside you (probably several of them).

There's also a good chance you're walking around with a bulging disc or three... some degeneration in your joints... and maybe even something minor going on in your heart.

Most of those normal wear-and-tear conditions need no treatment at all. But once some cash-grabbing doc spots them with a test, he'll convince you otherwise and try to steer you onto meds or even hoodwink you into surgery.

Next thing you know, you're wearing adult diapers because you let him hack into your prostate to remove a tumor that never would've hurt you -- and that's if you're lucky.

If you're not, you could end up like Harry.

Harry was the brother of a friend and, like Mark Cuban, he just loved to get tested. He even went in for one of those trendy "full-body scans" once, which turned up a minor heart valve issue.

Odds are, it never would've caused him a problem, but his doc convinced him to get it repaired anyway. They stopped his heart, repaired the valve and then couldn't get his heart started again.

And that's all she wrote for Harry.

So if you want advice on what to look for in an investment, maybe you can watch "Shark Tank" and see what Mark Cuban has to say. But when he's dishing out health advice, don't think of him and his "sharks."

Think of those science-class frogs -- because if you follow his tips, you could be the next to croak.
Oh...the show's called Shark Tank ─ that's right, I recall the title now.

So some clown with a lot of money thinks he is in a position to tell everyone what's best for them medically?

I never heard anything about this before, but I easily enough found a mess of news reports I apparently missed ─ here are two:
I am not in the least impressed how he nor billionaires like the Gates think or believe the rest of us should be living our lives.

Dr. Douglass had a happier report that same day (May 4, I believe) ─ one of my favourite topics, gut flora!

Meet the powerful commander of your gut's bacterial army

It doesn't matter how long it's been since you left the service. Could've been 40, 50, 60 years ago or more -- but when you hear it, your muscles twitch almost involuntarily and you're ready to fall in (and if you don't move fast enough, you know the sarge is going to have you drop and give him 20).

You know how raw some recruits are. They can't scratch an itch on their rear ends without an order and a map.

The bacteria in your gut are like that. They're disorderly, undisciplined and practically hopeless -- hardly the microscopic warriors you need to help you win the fight against chronic disease.

They need a drill sergeant who can make them fall in -- they need a tough commanding officer to tell them where to go and what to do.

And new research has spotted that C.O. It's called Lactobacillus rhamnosus, or L. rhamnosus, but you may as well call it Sgt. L. rhamnosus -- because when it arrives on the scene, the recruits all fall in line in a flash.

One new study shows how L. rhamnosus supplements given to seniors will get the rest of the bacteria in your stomach following orders in just four weeks.

It's the fastest basic training program around!

L. rhamnosus alters the genes that line the gut, which nurture your populations of Bacteroides, Eubacterium, Faecalibacterium and Bifidobacterium – transforming the chaos in your gut into a place of order and discipline.

They start working better -- responding to each other better, and working with the other chemicals in your gut more efficiently and more effectively.

It's as if someone stepped in and barked that command: Ateeeeeen-hut!

The best natural source of L. rhamnosus is milk -- but not the stuff you get at the supermarket. That's been pasteurized to kill off bacteria, including the good bacteria your stomach needs.

If you want L. rhamnosus, you'll have to get the real deal: farm-fresh raw milk. If you poke around online, you should be able to find a responsible farm near you.

You can also find L. rhamnosus in some types of yogurts and cheese, and if all else fails you can find Sgt. L. rhamnosus in a supplement, like the folks in the study.

Arming your gut to fight disease,

William Campbell Douglass II, M.D.  
I located the published study ─ it is here in full:  Functional Dynamics of the Gut Microbiome in Elderly People during Probiotic Consumption (doi: 10.1128/mBio.00231-15).

And here is another report about it:

It is now 10:35 p.m., so I shall present this entry from my journal of 41 years ago to close with.

I was 24 years old on this date, and spending the month of May in a rather bare housekeeping room in New Westminster that I had rented as a sort of emergency after having to vacate the old rented house that my friend William Alan Gill and I had been living in.

My mother Irene Dorosh and her husband Alex ─ who lived in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey ─ were evidently away as of the weekend just finished, and I had pretty much spent the weekend there since midday Saturday.
TUESDAY, May 7, 1974

Because I felt especially unsightly yesterday, I stayed around the house the whole cloudy day.  I finally did go out at 9:00 p.m. in a heavy rain; I walked back to New West.  There I mailed dad's medical mail to him, and a letter re Avengers #125 and Defenders #14.  Actually, I was hoping to buy a Penthouse, but the new issue wasn't out.  I had planned to do so much this day.

Today I sun lamped myself brilliantly.  I bought a $14.25 money order for Biology:  A Full Spectrum, and shall mail the letter tonight ordering it; I even bought a few groceries.  Cathy phoned; she said she had to come over and clean up the grease Mark smeared in the bathroom sink during the week-end, and do some cleaning in the garage.  She and the noisy duo later drove in.  I greatly enjoyed the cuty's company.
I deemed my complexion to be my greatest bane ─ quite on the same level with my absence of genuine self-confidence or self-esteem.

I hated being in that room I was renting in New Westminster, so it was a sheer blessing to be able to stay at the home of my mother and Alex out in Surrey.

Apparently I did hike back to my room late the Monday (May 6, 1974) evening, but I clearly returned ─ maybe first thing Tuesday morning?  I was a fabulous walker back then.

My father Hector had been using the New Westminster address of the house Bill and I had been living in for his own mailing address, but this was no longer possible.  Bill had in fact brought me some mail that had come to the old house for my father ─ apparently his B.C. Medical Plan card.

Although he never lived too very far away, I preferred to avoid him and his girlfriend Marie Fadden, so that is likely why I was simply mailing the envelope to him rather than just visiting him and giving it to him.

I was a super-hero costume fan, and loved Marvel Comics.  Often, I would send in fan letters concerning certain issues of various series ─ sometimes, a letter would get published.

I have no idea at this point if the letters I mailed in concerning Avengers #125 and Defenders #14 were accepted for publication.

As for Penthouse magazine...well, there was no Internet, was there?  A Single guy with no love life had little recourse.

I had owned a sun-lamp for several years by this time, and had just recently had to have the Sylvania bulb replaced.  The new one seems to have functioned superbly ─ the old bulb had been so weak that I would have the lamp just a foot or so from my face.

This was my tactic to make my usual pasty-white face appear more attractive where that bad complexion was concerned.  When one is doughy-complexioned, it does not take too many eruptions to stand out abominably ─ or at least, in one's own mind.

I had been a keen learner since my teens, even though I did poorly in school and dropped out of Grade XII in December (i.e., I had wasted three months of the school term).  I read widely, and would even buy books of the educational variety.

I have no memory of Biology: A full spectrum, however.

That link is to the available U.S. Amazon product that reveals the book was only published in 1973; so in 1974 when I was to have ordered it, the text was certainly new in currency terms.

Catherine Jeanette Gunther was my younger brother Mark's girlfriend back then.  I had enjoyed quite a lot of company at my mother's home over the weekend, including Mark who took advantage of Alex Dorosh's garage and tools so that Mark could work on his troublesome Vega car.

Jeanette ("Cathy") phoned me because she wanted to come over and clean up the mess that she knew Mark had left; she needed to know I was home, for no one else had a key to the house.

Quite clearly, I was again installed at my mother's home ─ I had no phone in New Westminster (there were no cellphones).  So Jeanette soon arrived after we had talked, bringing along "the noisy duo" ─ her two beautiful young daughters.

I loved Jeanette ─ she seldom failed to make any day of mine worthwhile.
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