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Tuesday, December 6, 2016

The Imprtance of Vagal Tone │ Aspartame Implicated in Weight Gain, Glucose Intolerance │ Inclisiran: Another Risky PCSK9 Inhibitor

It was 11:10 p.m. when I found myself in bed last night.  I never did get outside earlier that evening to try my hand at shoveling the snow from the driveway.  By the time I had proofread and edited yesterday's post, it was nigh on 8:00 p.m. ─ time to get prepared for my evening of T.V. and drinks.

It froze overnight, and the snow is so hard-packed that a light person can walk over it without breaking into the crust.

Of course, any tire tracks made yesterday when the snow was fresh are now ice and frozen to the concrete of the driveway.  I tried some shoveling early this afternoon, but things will have to thaw a little to loosen up the hold the ice has on that concrete.

The day had been brilliantly sunny, but a stretch of cloud was coming in by around 2:00 p.m.  I am hoping that it is merely passing through and will anon clear away and allow the sunlight to work on the driveway. 

My youngest step-son Pote and his girlfriend have been here since he came home with her last evening.

I spent the morning putting a lot of work into the new post I started on Sunday at one of my six hosted websites.  My wife Jack phoned me ere I had quite finished up early in the noon-hour ─ she wanted me to take a container of spaghetti sauce out of the fridge icebox.

That means that she intends coming home at some point today.

I took some photos of our new-fallen snow yesterday morning before it was yet 8:00 a.m. ─ there was not much on the ground as yet.  However, I was concerned that it might start raining and wash away what we had, so I took the photos.

This morning between 10:07 a.m. - 10:10 a.m., I took more photos of the same areas, leading off with a sweep across our front yard beginning with the driveway:

And then I went out to the backyard sundeck to do the same sort of sweep:

I took this final photo at 10:30 a.m. after going out to that little shed for some cold exercise ─ obviously, I was facing towards the house for the photo:

It is nigh 3:00 p.m. now, and that cloud that was rolling in has covered the sky.  In an hour, it will be getting dark, so there will be no further driveway melt today ─ nor shoveling on my part.

Before moving on, a check of my AdSense account before starting today's post revealed that I had earned absolutely nothing yesterday.  Today, though, I saw 5¢ ─ and all thanks to the Mexican location of this blog (siamlongings.blogspot.mx).   


Have you much familiarity with the vagus nerve?  And how about vagal tone?

If you find yourself lacking here, this essay on vagal tone ought to generate some considerable interest, despite the frivolous title:


The article does a good job of opening one's eyes to the importance of vagal tone.

If you actually read it and find yourself wanting to learn more about optimizing you vagal tone, I can suggest these two tutorials:



Don't just jump by that first reference ─ it is sub-titled "8 habits that stimulate your vagus nerve and keep you calm, cool, and collected."


A recently published study has found that the diet-sweetener aspartame "leads to an accelerated weight gain" and glucose intolerance, among other things.  And glucose intolerance leads to conditions like metabolic syndrome and diabetes.

Here is a report on the study:


And you can learn a whole lot more about the harms of aspartame ─ and why we need to be utterly done with it ─ here:


HSIonline.com offers some tips on how to avoid the toxic chemical:  Aspartame linked to obesity, heart disease and diabetes.


I posted yesterday about a drug called Repatha, but there is yet another new PCSK9 inhibitor drug also being hyped for use with statins ─ this one is called Inclisiran:



All glowing and wonderful!

But an editorial of sorts at JacksDailydose.com bring up a powerful scenario:  Risky cholesterol injection is Big Pharma’s next big cash cow
The research team claims the drug has similar side effects to statins. But when you suffer from, say, SEVERE and DEBILITATING muscle pain, at least you can quit the statin and, in most cases, feel better fast.

With an injection, there could be no stopping it. This thing lasts four to six months… and that means you could be in absolute agony for the entire time.

That’s not a treatment.

That’s a nightmare!
No kidding!

Our bodies ─ and especially our brains ─ need cholesterol.  People have to quit being so darned paranoid about it.


Well, it is 4:28 p.m.  I did not expect to get this far into my post, thinking that my wife Jack would show up before I was done.

Perhaps I can finish with this journal entry of 41 years ago, back 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, just a house or two up from Third Avenue.

On the day's agenda was a hike to visit my father Hector at the apartment he shared with his girlfriend Maria Fadden at 6038 Imperial Street in Burnaby

These visits were always uncertain in that I never knew quite what to expect once I arrived ─ the two had an alcohol problem.

My bedtime the evening prior to this entry was 7:00 p.m.
SATURDAY, December 6, 1975

I got up at 3:00 a.m., having slept quite well and feeling much like trying for even more.

About 3:45 a.m. I left for my 12 laps, dropping off Medieval Warfare at the library; no wind, but a heavy frost and road ice prevailed.

I sort of wasted my morning; I thought I'd get to dad's bright and early, planning to spend 10 or so hours there.  Well, I braved the ice, and arrived there perhaps 9:15 a.m.

They were home, up, and drunk.

I could hear them growling at each other as I stood listening outside the door.  So I regretfully turned about and came home.  That's like walking to mom's.

Dad had said they weren't going to waste their cash on drink this month, planning on a good Christmas.

I lied down from 10:45 a.m. - 12:15 p.m. for a nap; I awoke after what seemed a long sleep, with false ideas on where I was at the time.

A day, again, alone.

Seems I'll bed at 7:00 p.m.
I ran those very early laps at the New Westminster Secondary School track.

My mother Irene Dorosh lived out in Surrey ─ it normally took me about 1½ hours of fast walking to reach her home.  Thus, I suppose that the walk to my father's apartment from my room must have been about 45 minutes.

I recently had deeply enjoyed a couple of visits to my father's apartment ─ it sounds as if I truly had expected another such delightful spending of my day.

That's too bad.  I just hope that my father was not expecting me.

By the way, I never mentioned it in the early part of today's post, but I had another might of rather wild dreams.  Strangely, they did not always seem to involve me, nor anyone I knew.

Any role I might have had in some of them was secondary at best, if I was even represented.  

One dream even featured an athletic female secret agent of sorts who had a French name.

How unusual is it to dream of a cast of character unknown to one's self, and not even have a role in the dream that can be remembered?

One last thing ─ it involves those snowy photos from this morning that I posted earlier in this post.

Google has gone ahead and created two panoramas from them ─ one of the front yard, and a second of the back yard:

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