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Friday, December 9, 2016

On Type-2 Diabetes, Cinnamon, Statins and Cholesterol, and Alzheimer's Disease │ Protein Aids in Blood Sugar Control │ Our Infected Dietary Greens

It's snowing out there as I type this at 2:35 p.m.  I think it may have been essentially raining midday.  That was when my youngest step-son Pote and his omnipresent girlfriend headed out afoot, hooking up with a friend.

I took advantage immediately and went and got some medium ground beef out of the freezer and slow-cooked myself a delicious feed of the meat, some finely chopped vegetables (turnip, rutabaga, onion, broccoli, and potato), and lots of spicing ─ including six frozen red hot chili peppers that I broke up.

My hope is that Pote had to go to work and I'll be done with him and his girlfriend until at least mid-evening.

I had a terrible night's sleep after around 3:45 a.m. when I took a bathroom break and drank some water.

I had gotten to bed before 11:30 p.m., I think.

Anyway, by about 4:45 a.m. my nasal passageways were so blocked that I was no longer able to breathe enough to relax back into sleep.

My younger brother Mark had risen especially early for work due to the weather, and he headed out just ahead of 5:00 a.m.

I tried to sleep, but gave up and came here to my computer for awhile after trying to clear my nasal passageways in the bathroom.

After awhile, my eldest step-son Tho rose and went directly to the bathroom ─ he was up later than usual.  Mark takes it upon himself to awaken Tho if Tho has not gotten up by the time Mark is ready to leave for work, but Mark left earlier than I suspect Tho would have wanted to rise.

Pote has been driving Tho to the SkyTrain and getting to use Tho's car the remainder of the day, but today Tho drove himself ─ he would otherwise have likely been late for work.  It was approaching 6:00 a.m. when he left.

Shortly after 6:00 a.m., I returned to bed.  I was fully clothed, and just sought to relax into whatever sleep might come.

Some may have come, but I was mostly awake, and at the approach of 8:00 a.m. decided to rise for the day.

I got to work setting up a new post at one of my six hosted websites, and knocked off shortly past 10:00 a.m.  By then, Pote and his girlfriend had gotten up.  On the remote chance that I might rally enough to feel up to getting out for some local grocery shopping, I returned to bed fully clothed to rest my eyes.

It became quite apparent that even though I was not sleeping, I was enjoying my time just vegetating, so I finally rose later in the morning.  I was sitting here at my computer ─ which is upstairs here in the house ─ when I heard Pote and his girlfriend heading out.

But concerning my websites, I recently acquired a lengthy tutorial ─ a 58-page .pdf document ─ detailing how to set up a free account at CloudFlare (CloudFlare.com) and then get each of my websites registered through the service.

Believe me, it is all very daunting, and I have yet to even begin by at least joining CloudFlare.

What compelled me to get the .pdf tutorial was the claim that it would even guide one through the process of encrypting websites for free with Crypto CloudFlare ─ CloudFlare's SSL certification.

I have not understood why web hosts such as HostGator do not just automatically provide its clients with the feature ─ this free Blogger account of mine has it.  That's when you see the website URL or web address start off with 'https' instead of 'http.'

Heck, anytime I try to place an image in a post from a website that does not have SSL certification, Blogger puts up a red-lettered alert warning of it.

For example, if I was to present as an embedded image this photo of beautiful Miesha Tate that I located at http://www.mmamania.com, Blogger would throw up a warning like this:

I certainly can't fix the error if it's not my own image and it's hosted on someone else's website without SSL.  So if I want to retain the image in my post, I would have to select the option to dismiss the warning.

But in doing so, that image just might not display properly.  There's no problem if you click the "this image" link ─ it will display for you.  But if I had it displaying in this post just as I have the warning on display that is just above, it is very possible that there will only be a blank area in my post, or some other indication of a screw-up.

I have thousands of images on my six hosted websites, but until I get the websites SSL certified, it is probably folly to be embedding any of the images from them in my blog here.

But it won't be happening anytime soon, judging by that .pdf document.

By the way, I tried my hand and some further driveway snow-and-ice shoveling after the mid-afternoon, but the ice is still clinging firmly to the concrete.


Dr. Marc S. Micozzi has put out a fairly interesting article on type-2 diabetes, cinnamon, statins and cholesterol, and Alzheimer's disease:


He tends to present some good information, but I have no idea of what to make of his "Complete Alzheimer’s Cure online learning protocol."

Fortunately, I do not know of anyone who is yet demonstrably affected by this cognitive decline, so I haven't an interest in splurging on it.  I also have little appreciation for advertisement scarcity tactics ─ whether it's claims of limited availability, or else countdown timers declaring imminent price increases, or else a withdrawal of the offer.


Dr. Micozzi spoke some of type 2 diabetes, so let's continue on the topic of blood sugar control.  Please refer to this report on a pair of studies that have some very helpful findings:


Jack Harrison gave his views on why he felt that in the protein-carbohydrate study, only the tuna reduced the blood sugar impact of the white bread, while butter of itself had no similar effect:


A low-carbohydrate diet ─ ideal for blood sugar control ─ should have most of its calories coming from fat, but the protein component has to exceed the carbohydrate content, too.  Protein cannot be entirely missing ─ that would not be a sound low-carbohydrate diet whatsoever. 

I located the abstract of that study, which was merely a presentation made at this year's annual American Heart Association meeting; but I had a devil of a time understanding exactly what the tested diets were. 


Do you eat greens raw?  And what about those bagged vegetables?

Maybe we ought to be far more careful than we are.  The following is from NewMarketHealth.com:
A research team out of the UK discovered that the process of clumping the greens together creates leaf juices that Salmonella bacteria thrive on. And putting the mix into plastic packages has a kind of multiplier effect on the growth of such microorganisms.

When they tested such commonly-used salad ingredients as chard, spinach and romaine that had been in the fridge at a standard temperature of just under 40 degrees, the researchers found that a mere 100 Salmonella bacteria grew to more than 100,000 in just five days.

The leaf juice was also found to have made it easier for the pathogens to become attached to both the leaves and the plastic material, enabling the Salmonella to more than double their normal reproduction rate.

Especially concerning, the lead author of the study said, was that the juices released from the salad leaves "appeared to enhance the Salmonella's capacity to establish an infection in the consumer."

So, if after hearing all this you still prefer the convenience of bagged greens, be sure to wash the contents just as well as if you were cutting fresh ones.

Also, check sell-by dates, and put back any bags that look to be damp on the inside.
Here are a few other reports about the study: 




If you need greater shaking up, then try this article at an oddly-named website called BarfBlog.comWashing is futile: Leafy green cone of silence.  

Just last evening, I tackled a broken stalk of kale that had been in the fridge for days.  I had to toss a couple of broken sections of the stalk because they were getting almost gooey at the ends.

And when I tried chewing a section of stalk that I thought was in decent shape, it was distrubingly sour.  So I spat it out.

I still did eat most of the darned thing, however.  There has been no intestinal distress thus far.


Pote and his girlfriend were back home at 5:30 p.m.  He obviously never had to work.

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

I was renting the small affair in a house located on Ninth Street, and just a house or two up from Third Avenue.
TUESDAY, December 9, 1975

I forced myself up quite before 3:00 a.m.

Shortly after 3:30 a.m. I left in a mist-like rain for my 12 laps; it was extremely mild out.

Again, since yesterday eve I've had attacks of indigestion ─ but not quite as seriously as 24 hours agone.

One young fellow beat me to the laundromat, but he took off leaving me with the place; I bought the February issues of Inhumans, Warlock, Conan, and X-Men.

My stroke of brilliance for the day was to bus to Vancouver to Manpower and get some literature on various vocational courses.  Not knowing the location of Alberni St. I resolved to ask dad, so walked over there.

They were reasonably drunk; he was all packed up to leave and she was in tears over being alone.

He convinced me any Manpower would do, and said he'd take me to one a ways down the road.

We finally set out, and I let him get me into a Legion where we had about 6 beers in the company of some woman he picked up with.

It was after 2:00 p.m. when we reached Manpower, and I didn't find what I wanted.

He wanted his bank account, so he hailed a taxi as we stood awaiting a bus and we went to Middlegate; cash on hand, he headed to New West ─ the Dunsmuir, and got me to enter for just 1.  He had paid me $12 he owed me, so I obliged.

He knew various people there, and as time passed and I was about psyched up to go, he calls over someone else he knows ─ Took, whom I had earlier seen, but chose to avoid.

Took invited us to his table with Trudy's cousin Emma, and I was committed to more beer.

Later, we went to Mr. Sport's (my first time drinking there), and continued.

I'm not certain exactly, but I left 9:00 p.m. or so for home, quite drunk, with no free cash (I spent only about $3).

Nothing worked in my favour.  I originally wanted to retire at 6:00 p.m. so I could arise at midnight for a Steve Reeves movie, but I was so tired, and it so late, I just had to abandon this hope.

Anyway, I am not going to have any Christmas dinner conflicts, for dad must move; according to him Marie blackbooked him with the people running the low-income housing, and they are supposed to be checking his records to see if he actually qualifies for such; he doesn't.

So I am to await a note with further developments; I hope Marie can live with her work. 
I ran my 12 laps at the New Westminster Secondary School track.  I had to go there at these dreadful hours so as to avoid the students who would be all about on a school day.

After the run, a little later into the morning I had my laundry to do.  The facilities in the house I was renting my room at were off limits to me.

"Manpower" was the Department of Manpower and Immigration, the federal government department responsible for things like unemployment, and unemployment insurance.

I now have no idea just where I got off the Vancouver-bound bus, but my father Hector and his girlfriend Maria Fadden were sharing an apartment at 6038 Imperial Street.  Normally I would walk that far from my room.

He and Maria had a bad alcohol problem.

If he was being evicted from the building, it was only a month or two after being evicted from the previous apartment building the two of them had lived in.

There were no ATMs back then, so my father had to go to his bank at the Middlegate mall or shopping centre to get a withdrawal.

The Dunsmuir Hotel beer parlour or pub was well-enough known to me, since it was almost next door to where I worked one day per week ─ a charitable organization called S.A.N.E.  "Trudy" also worked there, but I have no memory of her sister "Emma."

"Took" was involved with one of the women at S.A.N.E. ─ or maybe he was a brother or something of one of them.  He and Trudy were Aboriginal Canadians ─ S.A.N.E. had a fair population working there.  

The Mr. Sport Hotel was almost across the street from the Dunsmuir.  I hadn't been to the Mr. Sport since it adopted that name, but I was an old hand when it was the Russell Hotel. 

I don't quite understand what I meant by not having any "free cash" if I only spent $3, yet my father had repaid me $12.  Maybe I meant that I blew the $12 he had repaid me, plus $3?

Unquestionably, I would have been quite drunk indeed after that long spell in my father's company.

Maybe if I had not knocked on his apartment door, he never would have gone on that additional binge that day.  The poor guy craved my company, so he would have gone all out to give me what he believed to be a good time.

Now ─ back to the present for just a bit.  

Pote and I have been occasionally talking of our poor eyes (his vision is 50/75 or something, and he now wears glasses).  Learning that I have bad eyes, he has been wanting to get me to the clinic where his were first tested.

I have for a long time wanted to be tested just to see if a qualified examiner could tell if I have any eye diseases like macular degeneration ─ I am not exactly looking to get fixed up with glasses. 

Well, the kid just popped by to let me know that he has me set up for an appointment on Tuesday at something like 3:40 p.m.
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