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Monday, August 15, 2016

Prescription Safety Precautions

Last evening was the eighth consecutive in which I have watched Olympic Games' competitions.

I was extremely touched by how deeply emotional the two Brazilian men were in winning silver and bronze at floor gymnastics ─ I couldn't help but root for these two.
An Olympic medal was definitely worth the wait for Diego Hypolito.

Hypolito, a former world champion on floor, failed to medal at his first two Olympics. Now, with the Games in his home country, not only did he get a silver on floor exercise but teammate Arthur Nory joined him on the podium.

Nory crouched on the floor in a fetal position, covering his face with his hands while he waited for the American Sam Mikulak, the last gymnast, to finish. When Mikulak’s score was posted, assuring Nory he would get a medal, he began sobbing as the crowd serenaded him and Hypolito with cheers of “Bra-sil! Bra-sil!”

Hypolito cried on his coach’s shoulder and then hugged Nory. The two grabbed a Brazilian flag and jumped up on a nearby podium to wave to the adoring crowd. 

But witnessing these two guys as their medal hopes seemed to be slipping away was far more involving that that snippet of a description tells.

A bedtime of 12:12 a.m. for me last night sticks in mind, and it was 6:59 a.m. when I decided to rise for the day this morning.

Of course, there was that first break in solid sleep at nearly 5:00 a.m. that marked a visit to the toilet, with inferior sleep thereafter.

The hot sunny weather continues.

My youngest step-son Pote was up when I came downstairs for my morning's hot beverage ─ he had seen his girlfriend away at some point earlier, for she had spent the night again.

I was rather anxious for him to take off for work, but he never left to catch his bus to Guildford until after 10:00 a.m. ─ it was becoming irritating waiting for him to go.

I get so little time home alone anymore ─ it makes me resentful.  And of course, he and his girlfriend will both have the next two days off work; and she will come home with him later today, and she will remain here until she leaves (probably for work) very early Thursday morning ─ this is their routine now.

It smothers me.

Once he left for work, I felt cleared to knock off from the new post I had begun at my Lawless Spirit website, and I began preparing for a hike four blocks or so to the nearby Shopper's Drug Mart at Cedar Hills (132nd Street & 96th Avenue) here in Surrey.

Aside from the bit of shopping I wanted to do there, I had a letter to mail in one of the two mailboxes directly in front of the store ─ a $163.41 cheque payment for the Rogers' cellphone plan my wife Jack and I share.

The payment is due on Friday.

The bill is not normally quite that high, but Jack apparently got hit with a $15 "data overage" charge, plus 90¢ for a couple of International text messages ─ I never realized that there could be such a charge!  Aren't text messages like E-mail, and it shouldn't matter where the heck the destination is?

It was after 11:30 a.m. when I left home ─ I was honestly quite surprised when I saw the time and realized that it was so late.

But I got the trip done, and was back home after a most leisurely walk.

I wanted to get in some sunning on the backyard sundeck, but I became engaged in sordid dalliance before finding the resolve to put an end to it and get outside ─ by then it was 2:00 p.m.

However, I put in an hour of sunning whilst donned in a pair of brief shorts.

And that basically catches me up.

I came back into the house and prepared my day's second hot beverage, and then got to work on this post.


I have an old scanned photo I want to post from an album that belongs to my younger brother Mark ─ the description beneath the photo is from the Google album where I have the image filed:

This photo is likely from 1974, and was taken at the home my younger brother Mark rented with his girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther and her two young daughters.

It is so long ago now, but I think the house may have been located along 144th Street, above 108th Avenue.

I remember that the rather deep ravine of a creek was at the rear of the backyard; and the only creek I can see on any Google map is Bon Accord Creek.

That is Mark's friend Al Cotts mugging for the camera ─ there was drinking taking place, for some manner of party was happening.
I think Al Cotts and Mark probably drifted apart by the late 1970s.  Al may even have moved over to Vancouver Island, but I might be incorrect about that.


It has been years ─ over a decade ─ since I have gotten a prescription filled.  It was of course a paper prescription.

Do many physicians now submit prescriptions electronically to pharmacies?

I have been reading through an August 8 article that discusses problems with electronic prescriptions, such as physicians and pharmacists ignoring various prescription alerts that their systems raise up concerning potential harmful interactions the medications can have with other medications.

You should be aware of the possibility of potential medication conflicts; and if you are already on some other medication, point this out to your physician on the chance that he might recognize any chance of an interaction.

Do yourself a service, and review this article at peoplespharmacy.comCan You Trust Your Electronic Prescriptions?

It offers some great advice.

Some of it is echoed by NewMarketHealth.com with these four tips:
  1. Always ask to speak with a pharmacist when you pick up an Rx (an option you should be given automatically). Show him your drug and ask about potential interactions, including any OTC meds you're taking.
  2. Check the dose, drug name and directions before you leave the counter. E-prescriptions can easily have misplaced decimal points and wrong numbers -- something that could have you taking an unintended giant dose of a med. And always check to see if your name is on the bottle.
  3. Know your drugs! You should know the names, dose and directions for all the meds you're prescribed. If not, ask your doctor to give you that information and write it all down.
  4. Before you take pill one from a new bottle, always make sure it is what you think it is. If it's another color or shape than what you're used to, it could be the wrong medication. You can easily check a drug's identity by going here.
Don't blindly trust!


Now here to close today's post is an entry from my journal of 41 years ago when I was 25 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

The house in which I was renting the room was located on Ninth Street at Third Avenue.

I was employed just one day a week ─ generally Friday ─ at a New Westminster charitable organization called S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends) that today calls itself Fraserside Community Services Society.

My role was that of swamper on S.A.N.E.'s blue pick-up truck.

Back then, S.A.N.E. was based in a building on Carnarvon Street ─ the building was roughly where the New Westminster SkyTrain Station now sprawls out onto Carnarvon. 
FRIDAY, August 15, 1975

I got up at 6:00 a.m., but awoke well earlier; throughout the night I awoke for short periods.

My memorable dream was of working for a very different S.A.N.E.  There were some kind of kids' classes, and I believe Samantha Smith was attending.  Mark & I seemed to be in authority; he was strict, and I recall him harshly spanking her and perhaps one other.  A group of a half dozen motorcyclists of mixed gender showed up.  They were friendly, none of the guys having the strength of Mark or I.  The leader took to me, and I to he; his girl seemed to regard me strongly, and I rather dug her.  I believe Cathy was present; the leader liked her.  I also recall a court house or something we all visited, most of us waiting in a small outer chamber; Daboda was present and mauled a cat that was there till it seemed half dead.  An earlier part of my dream involved hounds pursuing a circling rabbit in rather deep snow.

On my way to S.A.N.E. this morning I plan to mail for the Leo tickets and the perfume.

After 9:00 a.m. David knocked; I let him in, and at 9:30 a.m. we went to his  place; I left at 9:45 a.m.

At Safeway I bought some regular Harvest Crunch, bread, and a large can of strawberry jam.

I worked with both Bills; we moved Howie & Denise, having a friend of his assisting.  He now lives down by the Pattullo.

An East or West Indian lad, Bob, helped us on the next job, which ended at David's apartments.

I walked home for lunch, having the misfortune of encountering the Smith girls and Rossie on their way for Moody Park's pool; I promised to visit their father tonight.

The people are upstairs, but my cheque is not here.

Back at S.A.N.E. we 4 guys set off for what proved to be almost 3 loads ─ taken to a suite just west of Whalley.  While  hauling the third load, I saw and waved at Mike Schutz coming out of the Towers.

With a ride most of the way home, it was still but a few minutes before 6:00 p.m.

I neglected to mention that this morning I bought an Emergency TV Guide.

After eating I lied down, not realizing anything till sometime past 9:00 p.m.; I attempted sleep again, finally arising at midnight.  From then I found myself somewhat beset with indigestion.

I managed some exercises, then donned by cut-offs and performed 11 laps at the track (2 separate couples crossed the field, my sole interruptions); back a home I finished exercising.

I have a beautiful tan; today was pretty hazy, but of course, I had to labour.

Bed by 3:15 a.m.  
I wish I could remember my dreams now as well as I seemed to do back then.

Samantha Smith was the eldest child of Art Smith, an older chap in his early 40s who had also worked part-time at S.A.N.E., and with whom I had grown quite close.  I can't certainly recall her age, but she might have been as old as 12.

I might have dreamed of my younger brother Mark disciplining Samantha because I had heard from my mother Irene Dorosh that he had roughly spanked Michelle ─ the eldest daughter of his girlfriend Jeanette ─ a couple days earlier when Mark, Jeanette, and her two little girls were visiting my mother.

My mother said that it dampered the entire visit thereafter, making everyone feel uncomfortable.

Jeanette ("Cathy") also seemed to figure in my weird dream.

Daboda was their German shepherd.  He was a dear, but he had an unreasonable hatred of any other kind of animal, and would most definitely kill a cat.

It was my old friend Philip David Prince who came visiting that morning before I left for S.A.N.E.  He had just recently moved to a new room there in town ─ possibly at the Fraser Apartments that might have been located at 115 Tenth Street.

I went to his new room on my way to S.A.N.E. so as to check the room out; and I would have mailed off the two orders for Lucky Leo Lottery tickets and some imitation brand-name perfumes.

I also shopped at Safeway ere getting to S.A.N.E. ─ I had quite a thing going for Quaker Harvest Crunch cereal.

This would be the TV Guide cover featuring the Emergency crew:

Not only do I not remember who "Howie & Denise" were, but I don't even remember who the two "Bills" were that I worked with as co-swampers.  I think one of them was named Bill Sevenko, however.

Time sure can do a bad number on one's memory.

The S.A.N.E. pick-up truck was used for deliveries and pick-ups, but we also did lots of moving jobs if they were deemed manageable with the truck ─ we had quite high wooden siding that we could install to heighten the load capacity of the truck bed.

I often walked to my room for lunch, but I now honestly remember nothing of ever doing that.

I met Samantha Smith and her younger sister Angela (Dee Dee) on my way back to my room.  I have no idea now who "Rossie" was. 

The girls liked me, and I liked them; but I didn't always enjoy sitting at their home drinking with their father Art ─ it would mean a darned late night, and I would have a very rough Saturday.

So I promised the girls that I would come over, but I had other plans.

I was hoping that my cheque would have been delivered that day, but it was not in my mail receptacle.  It was quite possible that the landlady had not yet sorted the mail that might have been dropped through the slot in her front door, even though I could hear people upstairs above me.

When I returned to S.A.N.E., it appears that whomever "Bob" was pitched in and helped the "Bills" and I for the second part of the day.

It was while taking the final of three loads of some kind out to the west of Whalley that I saw and waved to Mike Schutz who was exiting the Royal Towers Hotel beer parlour or pub in New Westminster.

I liked Mike ─ I wish that he and I had maintained contact after I moved out of New Westminster in the later 1970s.

Anyway, after work at my room I had a supper and then napped.

Had I gone to Art's home, I wouldn't have gotten the activity I felt was so essential.

After midnight, I engaged in some sort of exercising, and then hiked on over to the school track at New Westminster Secondary to run 11 laps.  I only went there long after school had closed.

Apparently two separate couples passed by the track, but no one else was using it while I was there.

And then I came home and exercised some more.

There is so darned much to be said for living alone and being able to keep the hours one chooses.  I was never lonely, except for love ─ ever since I had been a teen, I longed to have a serious and loyal girlfriend to devote myself to.
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