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Saturday, December 10, 2016

How Aspartame Causes Obesity │ America's Medical System Bleeding 22% of ER Patients │ FDA's Antibacterial Ingredients Ban

Before heading off to bed last night, I went outside to take some photos of the house from the end of our driveway, hoping that between the snow and the Christmas lights, there would be light enough to get a good shot.

I was wrong.  Maybe my iPhone 5C was the poor choice over my Canon PowerShot SD880 IS digital camera:

In the past, the cellphone has generally been superior to the digital camera for quality of photos, drawing in more light than can the camera.

It was just about midnight when I took those photos.

Overnight, my breathing was again hampered by clogging nasal passageways, but this time I had a shot glass of salted water and an eyedropper with which to seek some relief ─ my version of one of those salty nasal sprays.

It was some help, I found.

I started my day around 8:00 a.m.  It was still snowing.

I took these photos just after 8:30 a.m., starting off with the backyard:

And then the front yard:

And then I got to work on that new post I began yesterday at one of my hosted websites, finally breaking off shortly past 11:00 a.m.

The snow has never really ceased, although at times it appears to be mostly rain.

I took a midday nap before starting work on this post ─ it is 2:24 p.m. right now ─ and it does sound like rain out there as I sit here with an open window beyond my computer.  A check reveals that there is also snow in the rain ─ so, we have a light sleet, essentially.

But as long as things do not freeze, this will enable the shoveling of the ice from the driveway that I have been unable to remove over the past two or three days of short periods of trying.  The 'dry' ice has too firm a grip onto the concrete in the freezing temperatures.

I have just learned from my younger brother Mark ─ fresh from his own nap ─ that he has a company Christmas dinner to get ready for now and attend in New Westminster at a place called The Boathouse.

He intends to park in the Dell Shopping Centre parking lot in Whalley and catch the SkyTrain at Gateway Station.

It is 2:50 p.m., and he has gone.  I expect him to be spending the night at the residence of his girlfriend Bev, so I oughtn't to be seeing him until tomorrow morning sometime.

It will be just me and the T.V. to drink with in the living room later this evening ─ whether or not both of my step-sons are home.

By the way, I have concluded that my trouble over the past few nights with clogging nasal passageways is likely because I have a slight rhinovirus infection.  Perhaps I will start snorting some 3% hydrogen peroxide.

It sure does burn, but it's worse for any viruses it comes in contact with.  I would also put some into each ear.

I would normally only leave it in an ear for a couple of minutes at best, but according to instruction here, the solution should be allowed to remain in the ear for anywhere from five to 10 minutes ─ and repeated two or more times after an hour or two has passed between sessions.

I am not sure I can be that devoted. 


The following topic was one I recently included in a post, but it is one that should not be ignored ─ artificial sweeteners like aspartame are being revealed to be responsible for weight gain.

Here are some reports on a recent study:



As the study concludes:
Our findings are consistent with previous studies on ASP [aspartame] and provide a potential explanation for its effects on the metabolic syndrome. By blocking the gut protective anti-inflammatory enzyme IAP, ASP may significantly contribute to the development of the metabolic syndrome, perhaps explaining the observation that dietary products are not associated with the weight loss and metabolic benefits that may otherwise be expected.

I am not American, and thus I am unaffected by any unexpected healthcare costs patients there may be confronted with, so I was going to pass by this report by Jack Harrison ─ until I saw the quote of $622.  That's the average 'surprise' billing that a hospital stay can cost someone despite having medical insurance, according to a recent study:


I sought further information about this, and found the following substantiating reports:



This sounds akin to predation by unscrupulous medical professionals pursuing nothing but financial gain.  I don't even understand how such a system can be allowed to flourish as it is.


This final topic is one I included in a post some weeks ago, but I see that Dr. Marc S. Micozzi finally got around to editorializing on it ─ he usually does a good job.

This is what his commentary is on ─ the article is from September 2:


And this is Dr. Micozzi's commentary:


Is it possible to surmount the untold kinds of chemical damage we have done to ourselves and everything around us?  This ban seems so insignificant in view of the impossible quantities and types of pollutants with which we have flooded the environment, and tainted our food.


It is 6:26 p.m. at this moment, and I have come in from doing some shoveling of the driveway.  The snow is sopping wet now, for it is mild out, and the earlier drizzle did a good drenching.

But wet ice still clings to the concrete and stubbornly refuses to release its hold.  I gave up.  We'll see what sort of temperatures ensue overnight, and what the weather tomorrow brings.

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

The house I was renting the small suite in was located on Ninth Street, just one or two houses up from Third Avenue.

The day prior to this entry, I had gotten involved with my drunk father Hector who took us by cab around to various drinking holes, starting very early in the afternoon.  I finally left him at the Mr. Sport Hotel in New Westminster around 9:00 p.m. and made my way back to my room.

Despite how I was feeling after all that drinking, on this new day I planned to hike out to visit my mother Irene Dorosh in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey.  That dear little house no longer exists, but its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue.

To hike there from my room took about 1½ hours of rapid walking.
WEDNESDAY, December 10, 1975

I decided to get up about 4:30 a.m., for my hangover doesn't appear to be improving.  I also decided to totally abandon my exercises today.

I left about 7:30 a.m. for mom's, rather enjoying the walk.  

But Alex was home, and mom says he has the next week off too, but may go to the Interior for perhaps 3 days.  

For mail I only had the first issue of Compass, a newspaper devoted to comics, books, and film; a coupon for purchasing a Western Lottery ticket from Canadian Big 4 Amateur Football Conference; and a $5 tithe receipt (I yesterday mailed in a $5 tithe along with an order for an Olympic Lottery ticket).

I ate a fair bit there.

Mom was awaiting Kay's later arrival to take them for an interview at Scott Paper; maybe they'll be hired for the cleaning directly.  

Anyway, I got a ride to Royal & 4th St. with them, bringing a bread mixing bowl and 2 bread pans with me.

At 12:30 p.m. I lied down, not getting up till 3:00 p.m.; I awoke believing I was in bed for the night.

Seems I must have had a ME.

I'll bed at 7:00 p.m.

Seems Mark & Cathy are still conflicting.
I was generally uncomfortable about visiting my mother when her husband Alex was home, for I felt like I was a moocher.  So learning that he was enjoying two weeks off work was not good news for me.

I tried to find our some information about the fanzine Compass, but there is not much at all.  It may have been produced by a guy named Tony Scialis, if this website is correct.

As for lottery tickets, they had to be mail-ordered ─ there were no lottery booths around, and all the stores never sold them like they do today.

My mother already worked as an evening office janitress at Scott Paper (now Kruger Inc.) in New Westminster.  She was an employee of some big janitorial service.  I think that she and her friend Kay Kris were maybe trying to get the janitorial contract for themselves.

I was likely a little relieved to get the ride back to New Westminster.  Royal Avenue & Fourth Street was an easy walk to my room compared to what it would have been.  

My mother must have told me that my younger brother Mark and his girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther were having relationship troubles.

Apparently I was back to my room very early that day and sought a nap, afterwards realizing that I had experienced a nocturnal emission ("NE").

It has been more than two decades since I have had one of those ─ I miss the dreams.  

And that reminds me that this morning before getting up for the day, one of my dreams involved some sort of slow flooding that carried out some kind of bears (polar?) to an area where numerous Indigenous People were adrift.

There were some people who seemed to be oddly secured to a mostly capsized watercraft or possible section of a floating structure, and one of the bears was coming up against it.

A middle-aged woman was closest to it ─ she seemed to have her back against whatever it was that was adrift and that she was somehow secured to.

The bear's head was initially turned from her when it was up beside her, but it almost seemed to hesitantly turn to face her, opening its huge mouth and slowly putting its jaws around her face as she cringed and displayed her anguish and terror.

With that, I seemed to have had my dream's attention shift to something else, and was spared any of the ensuing gruesomeness. 

I rarely have good dreams anymore.
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