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Friday, December 16, 2016

CPAP Ineffective at Prevention of Cardiovascular Events in Obstructive Sleep Apnea │ Acetaminophen Is the Most Common Cause of Acute Liver Failure │ A Vitamind D Deficiency Crisis

For the second consecutive night, I was in bed last evening at 11:05 p.m.

And before too long, the clogging began building up in my nasal passageways, adversely affecting my sleep after just a few hours.

It's got me beat, and it's a darned shame.

I rose for the day a little ahead of 7:45 a.m., finding my youngest step-son Pote up.  He probably had to see off his working girlfriend earlier, for she had spent the night with him.

We have yet another snow-frozen day with brilliant sunshine.

My intention was to make a hike to the government liquor store about two miles away at 108th Avenue & King George Boulevard here in Whalley, but first I worked at compiling content into the new post I set up yesterday at one of my six hosted websites.

Unfortunately, I was only able to put in about half as much content as I wanted to ─ I had gotten too distracted with E-mails before getting started, and thus wasted too much time.

I had lost the morning by the time I was ready to set out ─ it was in fact already 12:18 p.m. as I began the four-mile round-trip hike.  But I had remained home just long enough to realize that my eldest stepson Tho had not gone to work ─ I noticed him finally up from bed early in the noon-hour.

Walking conditions are sometimes testy, but there was nothing of particular note about the journey.

On my return, I had a pleasantly curious encounter with a chap I had seen from some distance as I walked the short stretch of 133rd Street that ends at 98-A Avenue, and approached the strip of enclosed sidewalk that leads to the boundary of A.H.P. Elementary School and A.H.P. Matthew Park.

When I first saw him from afar, I couldn't understand why he was standing at the start of that paved walkway, entirely covered with cold shade.

I expected that he would become galvanized as I approached, and would move on; but he did not.

Then as I was very near, I saw that he was standing on one foot, while the other was shoeless and he was likely readjusting a sock he had also taken off.

He was wearing runners.

The Sun was in my eyes, so I never clearly saw him well enough to tell if maybe he was homeless.

But whatever the case, as I made the entrance to that enclosed paved walkway, I laughed a bit, as did he in open friendliness.

His laugh sounded a little like the uneasy or awkward bit of a laugh I can hear Steve Martin making to John Candy in the movie Planes, Trains and Automobiles.

The guy even reminded me somewhat of Steve Martin.

As I passed by, I joked, "Not a good place to be doing that!"

He gave that bit of awkward-but-friendly laugh again, and replied in a Steve Martin-like voice, "No, it's not."  And then he added with emphasis, "There IS no good place!"

And we each laughed.

I had never stopped ─ all this exchange was in passing.

I don't know if his sock(s) had bunched up and he was engaged in readjustment, or if he had managed to get snow into his footwear and was emptying it out.

But if he was destitute, maybe he was tending feet damaged from the cold.  I just couldn't tell ─ the contrast between the brilliant sunshine I had been in, and the darkened shade where he was, defied my ability to quickly deduce.

Sometimes I regret that I am so socially isolated and reserved, and unwilling to involve myself in conversation.  If he needed some help, I would have given him a few dollars.

I was back home and into the house by 2:04 p.m.  Only Pote was home ─ still sitting on his ass at his computer in the boys' den area.

Will he be working this evening?  I sure as blazes hope so.  I also hope he's not got yet another bloody day off work and is just killing time until his girlfriend shows up.

By the way, one of the things that got me caught up this morning and delayed my planned work on that website post I spoke of was reading the story of Australian Lynette Daley's murder ─ she is described as a 33-year-old Aboriginal woman whose murder in 2011 went untried because (some say) her murderers are two White men:  Aboriginal woman’s slaying exposes Australia’s racial divide.

No picture of her was included with the article, and I was curious to see what this once-promising young woman looked like.

I found several photos of her in this May 24 report at DailyMail.co.uk.  She was quite a lovely lass, and looked to me to be more White than Aboriginal.

What a sad fate.

I am now going to post a few more photos taken on (I Think) October 30 when my wife Jack and some of her family visited the Ayatthaya ruins in Thailand ─Jack had never seen them before.

This is Jack with her nephew Daniel, the son of Jack's sister Penn:

Here are two photos of Jack in some temple thereabouts ─ that is Jack's mother at the left, with her back to the camera:

And here is a better view of Jack's mother:


Yesterday I included some information concerning a study that has found that sleep apnea contributes to the development and spread of lung cancer.

A major treatment of sleep apnea is a continuous positive airway pressure (CPAP) machine.  Mike of Mike & Molly often wore one of these masks at night when he was sleeping.

Well, another study has found that the darned things "reduced the daytime sleepiness that plagues sleep apnea patients, with corresponding improvements in mood, quality of life and work productivity. It also reduced sufferers’ anxiety and depression somewhat."

But they apparently do nothing to prevent heart attacks and strokes:


Dr. Marc S. Micozzi had some interesting thoughts to offer concerning the study, sleep apnea, and those CPAP masks:


I didn't notice anyone actually identifying the study by name, but I managed to locate it:  CPAP for Prevention of Cardiovascular Events in Obstructive Sleep Apnea (DOI: 10.1056/NEJMoa1606599).

The whole study is not available to the general public without a subscription, but I did find it in full as a 13-page .pdf document by doing a search for it at Sci-Hub.ac.

The study ended with this:
In conclusion, in a large group of adults with both cardiovascular disease and moderate-to-severe obstructive sleep apnea, the use of CPAP therapy had no significant effect on the prevention of recurrent serious cardiovascular events, despite significantly reduced sleepiness and other symptoms of obstructive sleep apnea and improved quality-of-life measures.

I do my best to utterly avoid acetaminophen.  The last time I took any Tylenol (which contains acetaminophen) was the first and maybe the second night following the knee surgery I had on the evening of November 5, 2010, to reattach my left leg's quadriceps tendon back onto the knee cap (patella) from which it had been entirely torn away.

The pain from the surgery was relentless.

But apart from that first and possibly second night, I otherwise suffered it through.

Drinking certainly helped each evening.

Acetaminophen should not be allowed in the marketplace ─ it is destroying too many livers, and killing too many people.

This recent report hopefully makes the danger very clear:

It is a very good report, but to me it seems to make two slightly conflicting claims.

First it says:
...Acetaminophen is the leading cause of acute liver failure sending 78,000 people to the ER every year.
And then it states:
...This easy-to-find drug is responsible for close to 50 percent of all cases of acute liver failure in the U.S.  
If it is the leading cause of acute liver failure, then it will be more than 50% of the cases ─ not "close to 50 percent."

This study was given as a reference:  Drug-Induced Liver Injury (doi: 10.4037/aacnacc2016953).  However, most of us are going to skip right on by it.

Another rather technical report which was updated as recently as December 6 substantiated the claim of just how deadly acetaminophen is to human livers:
Acetaminophen overdose (either intentional or unintentional) is the most common cause of acute liver failure in the United States and much of the developed world.
That quote is from LiverTox.NIH.govAcute Liver Failure.

Just don't take the stuff ─ no matter what product it's in.


How vigilant are you being in ensuring that you are getting adequate amounts of vitamin D at this time of year?

I only eat twice a day, so I take 2,000 I.U.s of vitamin D3 with each meal.

I read an article at JacksDailyDose.com titled The ONE nutrient experts say you need ‘immediately’ that got me doing some research to locate his source ─ Jack Harrison never bothers providing links to his sources or even identifies his references.

The first lead I found was this:


And that ultimately led me to the true source:


The scientific paper that is linked to early in that report states this:
The risks of inadequate non-burning sun exposure include increased risks of all-cause mortality, colorectal cancer, breast cancer, non-Hodgkins lymphoma, prostate cancer, pancreatic cancer, hypertension, cardiovascular disease, metabolic syndrome, type 2 diabetes, obesity, Alzheimer disease, multiple sclerosis, type 1 diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis, psoriasis, non-alcoholic fatty liver disease, statin intolerance, macular degeneration and myopia.
If that does not motivate you to pay attention to how much Sun exposure you give yourself from this time forth ─ and to take the precaution of getting enough vitamin D3 through supplementation at those times of the year when being out in the sunshine is an impossibility ─ then you have problems, my friend. 


It seems that I was wrong about which of my step-sons is home ─ it is my eldest step-son Tho.  His younger brother Pote must have taken the car and gone to work finally.

I am ready now to close with a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

That small affair was being rented in a house located on Ninth Street, a mere house or two up from Third Avenue.

I see that I had plans to hike out to Surrey and visit my mother Irene Dorosh in the Kennedy Heights area ─ the house no longer exists, but its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue.  Normally, to hike there at a fast clip would take about 1½ hours from my room.

Her home was my main mailing address.
TUESDAY, December 16, 1975

I got up about 5:05 a.m., surprised at the lateness.

I have a letter finished to send to Ron this morning; I'll drop it off at the Post Office as I go to cash my cheque; from there, I will proceed to mom's.

Man, I sure am having a lousy week.

After mailing my letter, I tied up with broke Took.  He learned I was bank-bound, so imposed on me for a beer or two.

Several later, in the Best, who halts at our table but Heinz!

And we drank.  I lost about 4½ hours.

Even Mike Schutz said hello, but never joined us.   

Anyway, I never left till our trio disbanded.

I gave Took $10, and from my $50 have $34, with not an item of grocery to show for the waste.

But I did walk to mom's, hoping Alex would be in the Interior so I could eat and rest; I arrived after 4:00 p.m., and cursed when I saw the poor guy through the kitchen window.

Well, at least I had an orange.  And lots of mail.  Foremost was a bulky package (ca. 2 ft x 9 in x 3 in) from Jean; it is listed as weighing 4 lbs 12 ozs, being a "food package," valued at $10, and costing $2.60 postage.

I am instructed not to open till Christmas.

Also in the mail I had a Treasure Chest Ltd. catalogue, a Christmas card from Mark & Cathy, a notice from AMRA to renew my subscription, a letter from the Vancouver Church of God, a Western Lottery ticket, the booklet Pagan Holidays ─  or God's Holy Days ─ Which?, and Famous Fantastic Classics #1 from FAX.

I learned mom isn't working; but she and her partner may have Scott to themselves February.

I didn't much enjoy my hike home.

At Queen's & 4th St I directed a driver toward Carnarvon St.  And at Wong's I bought 2 comics.

The nicest part of the day was the slim, dark-haired, pale-complexioned, young pretty girl who said "Hi" to me on the snowy tracks as I went to mom's.

I'm really tired.  Bed about 8:30 p.m.
The letter I had for mailing was to Ron Bain, an American pen-pal.  And the cheque I was to cash was only for $50, but I was broke.

"Took" was an Indigenous Canadian I somewhat knew.  Bumping into him pretty much threw my plans awry.

Oddly, I cannot quite place just where the Best Hotel was.

Heinz Kirchner was in his early 40s, but he looked considerably older.  I knew him from a course we had both attended a year before ─ Basic Job Readiness Training (BJRT).  Mike Schutz was about my age, but very tall and slim.

I finally got my hike, though, even if I was likely feeling some of the beer I had ingested.

I wanted my mother's husband Alex to be away because I felt uncomfortable about visiting my mother so often and being given so much to eat.  But it seems that on this day, I only got to eat an orange.

The package that came was from another American pen-pal I had ─ Jean M. Martin (née Black).

AMRA was a science-fiction and fantasy fanzine produced by George H. Scithers.  And FAX Collector's Editions was a publishing company that T.E. Dikty was involved in starting up.

The Christmas card was from my younger brother Mark and his girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther.

I wish that I had been able to keep the various fanzines and other related publications that I acquired back then, but it was not to be.  My life was to have some hard times.

My mother was an evening office janitress at Scott Paper (now Kruger Inc.) in New Westminster.  Perhaps she had broken away from the janitorial service she had worked with and was now looking to be getting her own cleaning contract.

I must have been getting hungry by the time I was hiking back to New Westminster.

Wong's store was on Sixth Street, maybe somewhere between Queens Avenue and Third Avenue, and on the left-hand side of the street as one moved up Sixth Street.

I don't recall the pretty young girl I mentioned having encountered when I was walking to see my mother, and who greeted me on the railway tracks.  I always followed them from near the Surrey side of the Pattullo Bridge all the way to 99th Avenue & Scott Road (120th Sreet).  That was generally the most peaceful part of the long walk.

Aww, damn it ─ Pote must not have had to work.  He was back here by 6:45 p.m. with his girlfriend.
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