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Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Why You Should Stop Calcium Supplementation │ Curcumin and Other Herbs to Prevent Cancer │ PCOS Sufferers: Find Hormone Regulation Through Resveratrol

I wish I knew how it was that the Fates seem determined to confound my every effort to impose impediments to the ease with which my youngest step-son Pote and his girlfriend so facilely hook up, gain transport here, and find ease of entry into the house.

Pote had gone out with his older brother Tho's car last evening just after 9:00 p.m.

When he was not yet back after my younger brother Mark announced around 10:40 p.m. that he was heading on upstairs to his bedroom for the night, I was not long in turning off the T.V. and hustling up here to send out a draft-saved E-mail to my mailing group, and then I was going to come back downstairs and turn off the Christmas lights and lock the door for the night.

But just then I heard Pote returning in his brother's car.

It is as if he is somehow being prompted to turn up at moments that are utterly inopportune for me.

Into the house he breezed with is girlfriend to spend the night with her.

Furious that I cannot even have the smallest consolation of simply locking the door to make it necessary for him to at least face that much of a hurdle before having open access to his girlfriend here in the house, I could only quickly come downstairs and turn off all the Christmas lights, and lock the door.

His older brother Tho had gone somewhere in someone's else car earlier, and was not home.  Whether he returned much later, or spent the night elsewhere and went to work from there, I have no idea whatsoever.

It was 11:10 p.m. when I was settled into bed.

I rose once around 3:00 a.m. to use the bathroom and squirt a sea salt solution into a clogged left nasal passageway, but the concentration of salt was far too strong ─ it burned worse than 3% hydrogen peroxide would have if squirted up my nose.

It immediately broke up the blockage, but there sure was a price of pain to pay.

When next I checked the time after returning to bed, it was ─ to my great surprise ─ 8:40 a.m.  It was exactly 9½ hours from the time I had first retired last night.

I rarely manage that much time in bed.

The deep freeze outside is well underway ─ it never made it as high as the freezing mark today, I don't think.  But lots of sunshine.

I spent the morning and early part of the afternoon finishing and ─ at nearly 2:00 p.m. ─ publishing the post I have been working on at my Latin Impressions website since last Friday:  Romance War Movies.

Had I been home alone, I would have taken a break earlier and gone out to the cold back shed for a little exercise.  But Pote and his girlfriend remained in bed until into the noon-hour ─ I never know when they will get up or go anywhere.

I like to don cut-offs for the shed experience, but I am modest now at 67 years of age ─ I do not particularly care to be seen in the attire.

After I finished publishing the post, I resorted to some work with a dumbbell ─ some one-arm knee-curls and presses.

By then I was so ravenous from not having eaten a thing beyond my morning hot beverage that I had a very filling meal of the last of my wife Jack's cooking from yesterday when she was home.

Even had I subsequently found myself home alone, I would have been too full to workout in the shed, for some of what I would have engaged involves pull-ups.

Shortly ahead of 3:00 p.m., I heard the front door open, and then as I listened, I heard Pote start up his brother Tho's car and soon leave.

Did he or his girlfriend finally have to go to work?  However Pote has managed it with two jobs, he has not worked since at least as far back as Saturday, and I am fully sick of having him ─ and girlfriend ─ here all bloody day long denying me free use of the house.

It's my damned house ─ he only rarely contributes toward the $1,600 monthly mortgage.  His older brother Tho never has.

I went downstairs to wash a few dishes I felt responsible for leaving dirtied ─ I never touch the mess my two step-sons leave ─ and I was muttering to myself and probably uttering the occasional curse as I fumed over being robbed of my privacy day after freaking day.

There was something I wanted to do outside in the front, so I put on a pair of boots, and was just about to turn off the light in the boys' den area that Pote had left on...when I noticed his girlfriend sitting off to the side of the room and until then utterly out of sight.

She didn't notice me, so I turned away.

But she had most probably overheard some of my mutterings and cursings.

Even when I think I am home alone, I am not!!!  Pote is so comfortable about having his girlfriend here that he nips off and leaves her to continue the intrusions into my privacy and freedom of movement that I feel all the day long.

He wasn't gone too long, fortunately.

And then just ahead of 4:00 p.m., they left together for somewhere ─ but not in Tho's car.  I don't know if someone came and picked them up, or if they walked somewhere or caught a bus.

But my day was shot.

Before I move away from further recounting of my day, I wish now to post a few more photos of the ruins of Ayutthaya that were taken when my wife Jack and some of her family visited them back on October 30 (I believe).

I was not present, so I can offer no descriptions ─ apart from identifying that my wife Jack is in every one of the following photos:


Do you take a calcium supplement?

I stopped doing so a few years ago because I had read that they were actually more harmful than beneficial.  I think I used to take a calcium/magnesium combination.  Now, I just take magnesium alone.

So just what is unsafe about calcium supplements?  Don't people facing bone loss need them?

Apparently not.


Please note that I had never heard of this fellow when I stopped taking calcium supplements a few years back ─ the recommendation I read had nothing to do with him.

He referenced this report at the end of his article:


So perhaps stop taking supplemental calcium...or just believe whatever fiction someone else adheres to (after all, don't all doctors know everything?) and keep taking your harmful calcium supplements.


I suppose that if there are herbs that can prevent a recurrence of prostate cancer, then the same herbs should be able to prevent the cancer from happening at all in the first place.


But why would those herbs only block prostate cancer?  It is logical that they should be beneficial where any cancer is concerned:


For  probably at least two months now, I have pretty much daily taken curcumin, raw ginger, and garlic cloves.  And I frequently ingest red hot chili peppers in a meal.

That last reference mentions that turmeric serves as a blood thinner and can conflict with  medication someone is already taking for that purpose.

Also, I have read that curcumin's turmeric will not be absorbed without the presence of some fat, so it is pointless to take the supplement form without doing so during a meal.


I am not at all familiar with a female condition called polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), but I daresay it must be especially miserable to suffer from.

Well, apparently a recent study has found some dramatic benefits showing up in sufferers who have been on a regimen of resveratrol supplementaion.

These two reports tell of the study:



The second reference also tells of other superb benefits derived from taking resveratrol.  I just wish that I could afford it.

I started taking it towards the end of my working life, but once I had to accept the financial limitations of making do on a limited retirement pension, resveratrol was one of the expensive supplements that I had to forgo.

Anyway, this was the tail-end of the published study:
In conclusion, this study demonstrates that resveratrol reduces serum levels of both T [testosterone] and DHEAS [a hormone that can also convert into testosterone] in women with PCOS, indicating effects at both the ovarian and adrenal level, and in the absence of significant changes in BMI, lipid profile, and markers of inflammation/endothelial

It is time now for me to close out with 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 that small affair in a house located on Ninth Street, perhaps just one or two houses above Third Avenue.

The evening prior to this entry, I had gone to bed at 9:30 p.m.
SUNDAY, December 14, 1975

I got myself up about 2:35 a.m.

It was sunny yesterday, but I see this morning it is snowing anew.

This didn't last.

I lied down at 8:30 a.m. and arose at 11:00 a.m. after a good nap.

I again performed stationary pillow jogging for a half hour in lieu of my track run.

I noticed while showering that the top of my penis fold and a section of the shaft are inhabited within by a coursing stiff wire-like development; it is as if a vein had entirely hardened.  I am of course a little concerned, but do not care for another examination by Dr. Johnson ─ especially there!  A further check showed that the course runs the length of the shaft.

Bill finally visited, and I went home with him to watch TV and witness his blustering futility as his phoning mother, as usual, flustered him till he reverts to a reduced state of profane exasperation. 

Poor fellow.

He gave me more than a dozen chocolate covered bananas he got from work; I tried one there at his place, and blame it for an onset of indigestion.

I hope to be abed by 9:30 p.m.
I jogged on the pillow to reduce the impact brought on by the hard floor.  This was the second consecutive day that I endured a half-hour of stationary jogging.  If you ever want a definition of boring, give it a try. 

I remember that rather alarming and most peculiar vein-like hardening that I could feel stretching the entire length of my penile shaft right from the foreskin.  I still have no certainty as to what it was, or what caused it.

My old friend William Alan Gill lived maybe three or four blocks from my room.  He was renting a bachelor suite.  At the time, he had been employed for some years at Royal City Foods, possibly a subsidiary of Delnor Frozen Foods.  I remember it as being a cannery, located just downstream from the Pattullo Bridge

Those chocolate-covered bananas were frozen, and remarkably tasty.  But it wasn't that this specific treat gave me indigestion ─ bananas always have seemed to.  Even to this day, I am at some risk of it happening ─ even though they are reputed to be good for settling an upset stomach.

Bill's mother Anne Gregory was most skilled at getting Bill's goat ─ the old girl practically bullied him.  And he just could not match wits with her ─ she could verbally hang and dry the unfortunate soul.
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