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Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Frequent Nighttime Urination? Just Say No to Noctiva (Desmopressin) │ Major Mental Illness and Increased Rates of Type 2 Diabetes │ Monsanto, Glyphosate, and GM Foods

I know that I was to bed before 11:00 p.m. last evening, but the actual time seems to have eluded my mental grasp ─ 10:55 p.m., perhaps?

Sustained sleep overnight was not possible, even though I was comfortable enough in bed. It was almost as if my system was keyed up with a stimulant.

I think that it was something like 6:09 a.m. when finally I decided to call it a night and get up. My youngest step-son Poté had not yet gotten up for work, but he was to do so in roughly an hour and soon leave.

What I did not expect was that his older brother Tho had not gone to work. I heard him sneaking around downstairs about half an hour after Poté had left. However, he, too, did take off before 9:00 a.m., and my solitude here at home was genuine.

I put more work into the new post I have on the go at my Siam-Longings website. I could have compiled more than a usual day's content, but I wanted to get out to do some local grocery shopping at the No Frills store located about four blocks away in the Cedar Hills shopping plaza (96th Avenue & 128th Street) here in Surrey.

In readying for that small hike, I considered not wearing a hood to cover the healing wound in my left cheek ─ the result of a large abscess that had formed due to a blocked parotid gland duct.

Unfortunately, in viewing it, I lost my nerve to brave the public in a supermarket ─ the closed infection site still looks too angry:

If I was just going to be out walking about, that would be one matter. But being in a customer-heavy store is quite another. There is still some swelling that is apparent there when my face is viewed frontally.

I left on that venture well before 9:20 a.m. ─ the sky was heavily overcast.

I had pocketed some change in case I met with a panhandler. Yet when I was about halfway to the store as I proceeded along 96th Avenue, I met with a sloppily-dressed, middle-aged chap who was clearly simple, or however we now term in a word someone who is mentally-challenged.

He stopped me and proffered his open hand, displaying a black BIC-type lighter. I was unable to understand what he uttered, but I presumed that he was probably trying to 'sell' it. So I declined, explaining jovially that I did not smoke.

He said something like a disappointed, "Oh...."

And I went on my way.

A very short time afterward, my conscience kicked in, and I questioned myself as to why I did not just help the unfortunate out with some change ─ it was why I had the $3.40 in my pocket, after all.

I resolved that if I saw him during my return leg, I would make amends; but I was not to encounter him.

I had a Rogers bill payment to mail for the couples' cellphone plan my wife Jack and I have ─ the payment is due on Monday. This should be ample time in which they ought to receive the payment, for the destination address is in Vancouver. I mailed it in one of the pair of mailboxes just in front of the Shoppers Drug Mart in Cedar Hills, then went to No Frills to do my shopping.

No Frills is becoming somewhat less appealing to me for the primary items I tend to buy. When they first opened, they used to sell what I believe were 3-kilogramme containers of liquid honey at a great price ─ it was not much more than the 2-kilogramme containers I had been buying at Save-On-Foods in Whalley.

But for the last year or so, there has been no trace of that honey ─ and neither do they sell the smaller 2-kilogramme containers. My suspicion is that because their prices were so good for those large containers, nobody was buying the comparatively much more expensive smaller sizes of various brands of honey that they also stock.

So in order to move that stock of different other brands in the less economical smaller sizes, they stopped stocking the exceptionally-priced very large containers of honey.

Also, up until last week, I was buying a litre of liquid whipping cream for well below $4. Today, I discovered that it has suddenly jumped up to something like $5.09 ─ I am sure that the hike is more than a $1.25 increase.

Evidently they finally realized that all of the other supermarkets had been selling their litres of liquid whipping cream for over $5 for possibly the past couple of years.

But I don't want to get too boring by continuing this No Frills shopping lament.

By the way, I took one other photo midway on my way to shop:

What is so special about that child's tether ball?

It used to be lodged rather high into the tree out in front of our yard since possibly as far back as sometime in 2013. The following two photos are from 2015 ─ April 24 and then May 5:

It was just yesterday that I noticed that the ball was finally gone from that tree. As you can see in this poor photo here, it was present on February 3rd:

No one could have gotten that ball down without a ladder. My wife Jack pointed out yesterday that it appears a branch was recently sawed from that side of the tree ─ maybe one of those city work crews who periodically come around trimming branches that threaten power-lines may have whimsically decided to remove the limb.

After having the faded yellow ball there for these past years, I rather miss the darned thing now.

I've just located another photo of the ball from December 9, 2013:

As I said, it had been there quite some time. It's a shame someone took it upon themselves to remove it.

I am very sentimental. In fact, I am almost of a mind to retrieve the ball while it is still possible and toss it up higher into the tree! However, it was on the other side of a spiked metal fence at a townhouse complex. 


Do you tend to need to visit the bathroom at least once overnight? I do. However, I don't usually seem to have much fluid to drain. My suspicion is that my bladder or kidneys get irritated by some of the alcohol my body is dealing with from whatever I drank in the evening; and it may also be from the numerous nutritional supplements that I take with my late ─ generally 8:00 p.m. ─ supper.

What little urine I may pass tends to seem rather concentrated, for it is hardly clear.

I cannot imagine ever considering taking a medication to help reduce that nocturnal requirement, yet there is a market for just such drugs.

Note these two reports on a latest pharmacological release:



Where my situation is concerned, this "need to go" does not interfere with my sleep by waking me up. Rather, I tend to take advantage of being awake at points throughout the night just to remove any remote discomfort that may hamper my ability to relax and fall back into sleep.

If there is a slight urge to micturate, then I heed it. But I sure as blazes do not need any formulation of desmopressin.


I suppose that it is not surprising that people with major mental illnesses die anywhere from 15 to 30 years earlier than those of us with sound minds, for they are unlikely looking after themselves to the degree the rest of us would do.

However, I find it a little harder to understand why those same mentally ill people seem to have three times the rate of type 2 diabetes as the general population. My inclination again is that it is because the mentally ill are not taking good care of themselves...but there seems argument that this may not be why they are afflicted with the disease with such greater frequency:


As my poor, dear father Hector frequently used to say, "A sound mind in a sound body."


I detest Monsanto, and it is absolutely disgusting how the U.S. government promotes that monster and everything it springs upon the hapless world.

I want to lead into this with the following good, short article on some of the trouble Monsanto has unleashed:


Of late, there is much activity in the States by a large group of victims of Monsanto who have united to sue this heartless corporation for what it has done to them, and what it is continuing to do:




Federal agencies like the EPA and the FDA need a thorough reaming, and there should be jail terms handed out along with that clean sweep.

In a related note, I recently added my name to a petition that went to the Canadian federal government, insisting that Canadians deserve to have our food products clearly labelled as containing genetically modified ingredients ─ if they indeed do.

North America is the largest area on Earth where there is no mandated, enforced labelling of this nature, believe it or not. Check out this map at CenterForFoodSafety.org: Genetically Engineered Food Labeling Laws.

What the hell is wrong with us?! Are our politicians so easily bribed by entities like Monsanto that we the people matter nothing?

I received an E-mail back on March 9th because of the petition I had signed. Notice how couched in evasive language this government response is:
Thank you for taking the time to write to me about the sale and labelling of genetically modified food.

The Government of Canada is committed to keeping food, feed and the environment safe, while supporting an innovative and sustainable agricultural sector.

We have a clear and stringent process for evaluating the safety of products, including those that are genetically modified. Genetically modified crops have long been approved in Canada and support an innovative, safe and sustainable agricultural sector. These technologies help Canadian producers develop new plant varieties which are more productive, disease and insect resistant and consume fewer resources.

The Government of Canada is committed to a balanced approach. We must balance these advancements with ensuring the food we grow and eat is safe, and that we protect the environment.We are committed to science based decision making, and will continue to be.

Labelling GM foods for non-health and safety purposes is permitted, provided it is truthful and not misleading. A national voluntary standard is in place to provide guidance to food manufacturers on labelling to address consumer demand.

Health Canada requires special labelling of food, including genetically modified food, in situations where there are significant nutritional changes or clear scientifically established health risks that could be mitigated through labelling.

Thank you again for writing to me. I am proud to be your Member of Parliament, working for you, representing your concerns in Ottawa.

Yours sincerely,

Randeep Singh Sarai
Member of Parliament for Surrey Centre
Room 860 Valour Building, House of Commons
Ottawa, Ontario K1A 0A6
I left out his telephone number, FAX number, and E-mail address.

Basically, labelling is "permitted" if anyone wants to do it to their food product(s) ─ the Canadian government will certainly not prohibit it.

But other than that, Health Canada will only require labelling "where there are significant nutritional changes or clear scientifically established health risks" that of course Health Canada will make the determinations of.

Apparently Canadians in general are too uninformed to merit the bother of having ALL genetically modified foods labelled, because Health Canada knows best, and they have decided in their vast and infinite wisdom that there is no harm to befall anyone from the consumption of such foods.

Clearly, the governments in the rest of the world are comprised of idiots ─ thank the Lord that we have such enlightened governments here in North America encouraging the good work of Monsanto and their ilk!


I close now with an entry from my journal of 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping room in New Westminster. My tiny home base was being rented in a house located on Ninth Street, and one or two houses up from Third Avenue.
MONDAY, March 15, 1976

I got up about 7:00 a.m. after awakening for rather long periods during the night as a result of my heavy supper; I was over warm and thirsty.

I remember a dream. I think Cathy & I were in some sort of uniform. Anyway, during a mutually unfriendly situation she seduced me into kissing her; I was supposed to be angry with her, but couldn't pass up the opportunity. The kiss was long and aggressive on her part, and I recall she had a raspy tongue which she constantly employed, to my excitement.

Such was the fantasy; for some reason it progressed no further.

Beginning today, I'm going to try cutting down on calorie intake, for my midsection has never looked so bad; I hope also to begin walking distances again.

I left here soon after 10:00 a.m., going to Woodward's for a $22.89 money order which I there mailed to Sunburst Biorganics, Inc. of Carle Place, N.Y., for their Sunburst "52" (180 tabs plus 180 free) and their 10 mg zinc (1000 tabs). 

Then I set off to try and circuit the lake. I had my doubts, for my pants did annoy the incision.

At the half way point I was near amok from the incredibly itching of my pudendum, belly, and inner thighs mainly due to the pre-operative shaving.

I walked very slowly. The Cariboo Road hill proved quite a strain on my operation.

When I got to Safeway I bought apples, oranges, and a TV Guide (total $2.53). I have $20 left.

It was good to get home.

I believe I saw Moose on 4th Ave with another guy, and when starting this morning, I met the S.A.N.E. truck on 8th St just before 4th Ave; Garry was driving with 2 others, but I wasn't recognized, I guess.

It was well past 2:00 p.m. when I got home this mainly overcast day. I discovered a letter from dad awaiting me.

I wrapped up my letter to Terri.

I'm bedding down at 8:00 p.m.
Dream girl "Cathy" was my younger brother Mark's girlfriend of the time ─ Catherine Jeanette Gunther. That young woman was about the most desirable creature it was my experience to know.

I was still in recovery from a very serious appendectomy that had me in the hospital until my 12th day.

Woodward's was little more than three blocks uphill from my room ─ it was located on Sixth Avenue, and occupied all of what is presently the Royal City Centre Mall today. From there, I would have made my way to Burnaby Lake along a route that would have taken me through Robert Burnaby Park.

This map ought to clarify. As you can see, that park is just above 19th Avenue & First Street ─ quite a trek in itself from Sixth Avenue & Sixth Street. So...18 blocks to the start of the park?  

I am unsure now just how I got beyond the freeway (Trans-Canada Highway) ─ whether I risked running across, or else took a fairly large creek culvert and passed under the highway.

Once to the other side of the freeway, I would turn left and follow a trail right there to Sperling Avenue, and then work my way up the left side of the lake to railway tracks at the far side. There was also another trail there.

Cariboo Road was well to the far right of the lake. I would take to Cariboo Road and work my way back to New Westminster and home.

It was no light undertaking ─ especially for someone recently stitched up abdominally. From the time I left home, it was over four hours before I made it back. 

"Moose" was a (former?) co-worker of my dear friend, William Alan Gill. 

I had worked part-time for a New Westminster charitable organization called S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends) ─ I was a swamper on their pick-up truck. It was that truck that I must have seen earlier in the morning.

The letter I finished composing was to my American pen-pal, Terri Martin.

Quite the day! There was no Internet back then to keep me home and sitting on my duff the whole day through.
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