.dropcap {float:left; color:#4791d2; font-size:75px; line-height:60px; padding-top:4px; padding-right:8px; padding-left:3px; font-family:Georgia}

Google+ Followers


Saturday, January 21, 2017

Good Sleep Pointers │ Opioid Medications Are NOT for Long-Term Pain Management │ Dietary Zinc Research

For some reason overnight, a few times when I was awake I felt almost like I was suffering a bit of a hangover. I had consumed no more alcohol than usual, so that was not the issue. Neither was I up particularly late ─ I was probably abed by 11:45 p.m.

Perhaps my supper was weighing somewhat heavily. I did drink water perhaps three times overnight.

I expect that it was after 8:00 a.m. that I rose for the day and was soon at work finally finishing and publishing a post at my Siam-Longings website ─ a post that I began back on the 11th: Thailand Adapter.

And that essentially took me to the noon-hour.

My younger brother Mark and my youngest step-son Poté somehow got into a discussion concerning the mouse or mice whose presence my wife Jack alerted me to on Boxing Day ─ Poté must have let Mark know about the traps that Poté bought a few evenings ago, but which have yet to catch anything.

Poté escorted Mark here to my computer room ─ formerly, my niece Rene's bedroom ─ to show him the trap that is in here.

It was not long after that Mark called to me as he was putting away some laundry ─ one of his dresser drawers contained several objects that had been gnawed. Specifically, a couple of ring cases. Mark surmised that the intent had been to chew off the fuzzy surface to the cases.

The culprit had actually made a fair mess with debris it had left strewn about.

So I suspect that Mark is going to start becoming proactive about the intruder(s). I never mentioned it to him, but yesterday afternoon I think I found a mouse turd on his bedroom carpet.

All of the foregoing interaction was after I had published the post I had finally completed.

I fixed myself up a nice meal of my wife Jack's cooking; and then after finishing it, I sought some further bedtime. Mark apparently sought his own nap during my downtime, for when I rose, his bedroom door was closed.

However, he was soon enough up; and not too much thereafter, he left ─ perhaps not to return until tomorrow morning, if he spends Saturday night at the home of his girlfriend Bev as he generally does.

I felt some pangs of regret at not being able to be outside during the morning, for it was brightly sunny and mild. Yet following my nap, I found that the day had become overcast, and there seems even to have been a rain shower.

Poté seems not to have to work today. His girlfriend had spent the night, but she was gone when I got up this morning. She, at least, must have had to work.

Before I leave this section on my day, I want to post two Google-created 19-second slideshows of photos that were taken when my wife Jack and some of her family were able to visit Ayutthaya last October 30.

I might have posted one of these mini-movies already in a previous post, but I want to place these two in juxtaposition to one another because of how similar they are ─ not only did Google select much the same photographs, but it even used the same melody.

Why would Google nearly duplicate something like this, I wonder?


How well do you sleep?

I get to sleep fairly easily. My problem is remaining asleep. The latter half or so of my night is comprised of fractured sleep.

I do not see how these tips of Dr. Marc S. Micozzi can help me, but possibly you can apply them?


The first tip is impractical for me ─ I would need to live alone. And I am not guilty of the sin enumerated in the second tip.

The third tip is something that I could try, but I hate the idea of losing the first 15 minutes of my day doing nothing when I could be starting post work on one of my hosted websites. And what about these Winter months when a person often rises while it is still dark outside?

I already do practice tip number four; although if I did not feel committed to blogging for the hours a day that I do, I would probably be far, far more active than I am. Actually, I am considering forsaking blogging any longer later this year ─ it is not rewarding. In the previous 10 days, I have earned but 4¢ in my AdSense account, and there was nothing there yet for today when I checked just prior to this post.

As for tip number five, I take melatonin, so I may suspend doing that. But I cannot afford to be adding herbal remedies to the regimen of supplements I already keep myself supplied with ─ my pension is too sparse. I already get the B vitamins and magnesium within that supplemental regimen. As for the alcohol, I am not about to reduce my evening allotment. Again, I would need to live alone to care to make any such reduction ─ other family members are just too damned stressful for me. Nor am I about to start taking a warm cup of milk or some other caffeine-free beverage prior to bed.


Research reveals that opioid pain medication is not designed for long-term pain. Believe it or not, apart from the addiction factor, the opioids can actually begin causing the pain to aggravate.

And among the other major issues with long-term opioid medication are depression, impaired sex hormone production, sleep breathing disorders, reduction in wound healing, infections, cognitive impairment ─ the list is long.

Here are a couple of reports on a recently published study decrying the use of such medication:



I did not see the actual study identified, but it is titled Opioids and Chronic Pain: Where Is the Balance? (doi: 10.1007/s11912-016-0558-1). Only the abstract is available for free, but I did locate the full study elsewhere ─ it ended thus:
The management of chronic pain should be clearly separated from acute pain. Opioid utility in the management of pain diminishes with duration and dose. There are significant delayed side effects and adverse events clinicians need to take into consideration when treating patients with pain.

I believe that it was just yesterday that I posted about the latest impressive dietary zinc research, but I will do so again and explain why ─ first, here are a couple of reports on a recent study:



I reported yesterday that even though the zinc supplement I take has a potency of 50 milligrams per tablet, I felt okay about it. But after seeing the recommendation in that latter reference, I am going to begin trying to cut those tablets into halves, and look for a weaker potency the next time I resupply.


'Tis time now for me 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.

I was renting the cramped space in a house located on Ninth Street, and one or two houses up from Third Avenue.

My big plan for the day was a hike out to my mother Irene Dorsh's home in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey. The house she and her husband Alex shared there no longer exists, but its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue. It was my main mailing address.

To hike there from my room would take about 1½ hours at a goodly pace.

I had actually gone to bed at 7:00 p.m. the previous evening.
WEDNESDAY, January 21, 1976

Sleep did not come to me quickly nor steadily last night; I got myself up before 3:30 a.m. By 6:40 a.m. I was in the dark and on my way to mom's.

The only mail was yesterday's; my 4th Olympic Lottery ticket, and MuscleMag International #4. 

I ate a lot today, but spread out so that I never approached too closely that incapacitated feeling.

I felt guilty over a rising temper for mom who continued on during the morning with trivia while I wanted to direct my full attention elsewhere.

Phyllis (who came Monday as I was leaving with Bill & mother) visited about 12:45 p.m. for at least an hour, I guess. And about 2:15 p.m. an Avon lady came.

I put aside some fresh-baked cookies mom wanted me to take, telling her I really don't care for cookies unless I can soak them in whole milk, something I lack; I said I'd eat them when next I came. But she did give me most of a package of Rye-King crackers.

I left shortly after 4:30 p.m.

A light rain began just as I completed the bridge.

The whole trip back I felt carnal and sort of isolated from God; I've tried extremely hard this month to convince Him to allow me Sunday's Olympic Lottery win as a loan, and have made far-reaching promises does He so do. 

I haven't had manual release since November 27!

I've got one lottery ticket coming for the draw Sunday; I feel strongly that on the outcome depends my future more so than at any prior draw.

I suppose I should mention that Sherry had come home from school before I left mom's, but she soon went to play with Lisa; Phyllis is checking out a possible apartment availability.

I'm randy.

My right lower eyelid has been twitching quite steadily since the afternoon.

Bed by 6:45 p.m.

The letter I sent dad came back; like an idiot I sent it to his address just off Canada Way.

Mom also gave me a medium small onion.
My dear mother had a knack for droning on and on about people I did not know, and referring to them by their first names as if I was intimately familiar with them. She was incorrigible for that.

Phyllis is my older maternal half-sister, and Sherry her daughter. Back then, Sherry was practically living with my mother and Alex. I am unsure what Phyllis was up to ─ perhaps she was living with a boyfriend at his place and thus did not care to have Sherry moved in, too.  

Lisa was a young girl living right next door to my mother ─ she and Sherry had become friends despite going to different schools.

I had been visiting my mother two days earlier when my old friend William Alan Gill and his mother Anne Gregory showed up just to take me back to my room. I hadn't realized that this was all that they intended ─ I would have preferred to have remained at my mother's home so that I could walk back to my room, arriving there considerably later than was to be the case that day.

I was never to win a huge lottery prize, despite trying for decades thereafter.

My poor father Hector. I had a falling out with his live-in girlfriend Maria Fadden, and declared that I was never going to return. He had sent me a letter saying that he would watch for me, and even sit down in the lobby on the next Sunday. But I had replied back to say that I would not be coming.

And so he never did get the letter because I addressed it to his previous residence, and he likely awaited for me all in vain.   

I miss my father...and my mother. 

I miss having friends.

It sucks hard being too poor to get out and socialize like my younger brother Mark is able to afford to do. I just sit here shut up in this house just about every useless day of my dwindling life.
Post a Comment