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Wednesday, September 14, 2016

A Harrying Try at Plumbing │ Strokes and Heart-Attacks in the News ─ Two Studies

It was around 8:30 p.m. last evening when my wife Jack left us ─ she had been here since about 4:30 p.m., doing a lot of cooking.

Three batches of different dishes were apparently for her oldest son Tho and friends ─  he was to leave today around 10:05 a.m. to go off to Harrison Host Springs (I am surmising) with his girlfriend and other friends.

Tho's younger brother Pote had his girlfriend stay over here again, and they were both newly up when I came downstairs after getting up for the day myself.

Tho was still in bed at that point, so Pote used his brother's car to take his girlfriend somewhere, returning by himself.

As I said, Tho took off shortly after 10:00 a.m. and probably won't be back until Sunday.  Pote was to leave towards 10:30 a.m. to catch a bus to take him to work.

And I was alone this beautiful sunny day.

I went to work and spent the morning finishing the edit of a January 12, 2012, post at my website My Retirement Dream.  I had been working on the edit since Sunday, but it is finally published:  List Of Hotel in Kota Kinabalu Town.

I had hoped to get out and do some shopping, but that was not to be possible.  The post took too long, and I wanted to try and replace one or both washers in the bathtub taps.

Well, that was a huge mistake ─ I am too damned inept.

I even contacted my younger brother Mark and alerted him that he had best come home after work, for I got lost in recollecting the sequence of  how the two taps are supposed to be properly reassembled.

He was little help ─ he just tried to give instructions over the phone as if it was easy for me to manage.

I tried and tried, but I had done too much ─ I had even taken apart the faucet stems.

I have no idea now which stem is for the hot water and which is for the cold water ─ although the taps are of the knob type, and I've read that it may not matter.

The stems are covered with a cover, and the knobs attach to the stems from outside the cover.

But I cannot fathom how to attach a knob to the stem such that when a person turns the water on as far as it will go, the knob will not just unscrew from the stem.

I've screwed this up badly.

And of course, there is no water ─ I dare not turn the house line back on.

My eyes are so bad ─ the entire episode has worn them right out.

And of course, I have missed out on even enjoying the sunshine ─ rain is apparently due on the weekend, so today and tomorrow may be it for the Summer.

Anyway, Mark doesn't normally come home until at least 8:00 p.m. because he hooks up with his girlfriend and buddies right after work ─ he doesn't even come home to change.

If he thinks I can handle the dilemma here, then he's in for a huge awakening.

But I am getting darned thirsty.  I would love to be able to get some water to boil for a mug of my usual afternoon hot beverage.


I made several returns to the bathtub project during the course of the earlier part of this post.

And finally ─ after 5:30 p.m. ─ I twigged onto a solution to get the system reassembled.

It's old:

The biggest concern I am left with is if the cover is tight enough against the wall, for the piping for the hot and cold water each have a hole in the tile, and there is a larger central hole where that stem that used to have a handle is allowing people to switch to the shower or just the bath.

The stem is pulled out for purposes of a shower.

If people showering are running water down the wall, won't the water work behind that tap-stem cover and drip on into those tile holes?

It's sure good to have water for that hot beverage, let me say!

And I even succeeded in stopping the faucet stream ─ it had become far more serious than a series of bad drips or leaks.  As I said yesterday, if the bathtub drain was stopped, I doubt that it would have taken two hours to overflow the tub ─ the stream from the faucet was that heavy.


There was a recent U.K. study that found out that too many people are waiting excessively long to seek treatment at the start of a stroke.

You've probably seen this public service commercial:

I'm afraid that I'm one of those guys who wouldn't help himself if the start of a stroke or heart-attack was presenting itself.

What about you?

Here's a report on the U.K. study that bears this out:


Acronym's like 'FAST' can be helpful, but I see that mnemonic aid so seldom that I can never remember what all of the letters represent whenever I see it again.
Nearly all the patients -- 92 percent -- delayed going to the doctor and 58.7 percent did not think they were having a stroke.
Imagine that!

One estimate ─ and this is provided that the delaying victim survived the stroke ─ was that for every 15 minutes of delay, it will cost that person a month of otherwise healthy living.  

And what that means is that the stroke victim would either have to live an extra month with crippling disability, or perhaps his or her life instead would be shortened by a month.  

So if the stroke victim was to wait 24 hours and survived to get treatment, he or she would lose out on eight years of healthy living. 

The U.K. also discovered in a recent study that women having a heart-attack are 50% more likely to be misdiagnosed by a doctor than are men:

the guardian

The Telegraph


I did not notice that any of those articles linked to the study.  If you're interested, it's Impact of initial hospital diagnosis on mortality for acute myocardial infarction: A national cohort study (doi: 10.1177/2048872616661693). 


I must now close with this journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 25 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

The house I was renting the room at was located on Ninth Street at Third Avenue.
SUNDAY, September 14, 1975

I arose at 6:10 a.m.

Yesterday at mom's, I learned Alex was to that day find out if he would be on picket duty.

When I got to the laundromat, I guess the door had been propped open all night, for a guy was drying his things; 3 people more were present when I finally left.

The day likely will be as cloudless as yesterday.

I breakfasted on pancakes (2 cups) using, beside store jam, some watery jam  got from mom, and an apple/apricot substance Cathy gave me yesterday (they did not care for it; it is a poor sweetening).

At 11:30 a.m. I lied down and gained some extra sleep, arising at last at 2:00 p.m.

I did my exercises and had my shower earlier than usual; I am free to accompany Bill if he comes over to go visit Mark as he yesterday said; at the time, I had no such intention.  

Oh yes, he is now driving a white Vega.  

He did not show up today.  Bedtime by 9:15 p.m.
Alex Dorosh was the husband of my mother Irene.

The laundromat was something I always tried to get to just as it opened so that I could avoid the crush of patrons later on.  But if there was already a fellow drying his clothes, he must have been there long enough to have first washed them ─ thus my surmisal that the laundromat door had been left ajar by someone the previous evening.

My feed of pancakes involved two cups (tea or coffee cups) of flour ─ I made my pancakes from scratch, and didn't use a packaged mix.  

"Cathy" was my younger brother Mark's girlfriend, Catherine Jeanette Gunther.  My old friend William Alan Gill and I had visited her and Mark the day before, and it seems that Bill had suggested doing so again this day.

However, he never showed up.

His Vega was being repaired, and this is the second different Vega he had been driving in the meanwhile.  I think the first one was yellow with a black interior.  

It turned out to be a quiet day of solitude for me.  I probably did not speak a word to a soul.

Well, here it is approaching 7:30 p.m., and no brother Mark yet.  'Tis a most good thing that I managed to figure out how to reassemble the bathtub taps and their stems, or he would be having to do it later this evening!
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