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Sunday, March 12, 2017

The Latest Recognized Danger Presented by Certain Indigestion Medications │ Secret Tylenol Liver Damage Settlements │ Remicade (Infliximab): Don't Treat Your Child's Autoimmune Disorder with This!

I was on track to get to bed unusually early last evening ─ I had the T.V. off just ahead of 10:00 p.m.

And then I came here to my computer...and dissolution reigned. It was 11:59 p.m. before I found myself in bed.

There are more addictions in this world than chemical ─ I know that. I just fail to fathom why I do not receive the succour I long for, and  continue to find God's ears deaf.

Time changed overnight ─ our clocks advanced ahead an hour, and thus we lost an hour during the dark.

I cannot say if I would have gone anywhere today if my spirits were not so low ─ perhaps I would not have. I spent much of the morning putting content into the new post I started yesterday at my Lawless Spirit website.

When late in the morning I went out to the backyard shed for some exercise, I found there to be a fine spraying of rain underway. Yesterday's rain was essentially steady over the day's course, so this display was virtually nothing.

As usually happens after getting in some early exercising, it became time to have my first meal of the day, and that feed then put me to bed. I often feel like some creature that needs to sleep off the burden of having eaten. But what else is there to do?

I am caged within these walls that define my debtor's prison. It seems I shall never be free of that debt to leave here and live a life somewhere else where I can be happily close to the Earth, observing and marveling at the natural world around me.

Just as I did as a boy and a young adolescent.

I suspect that my wife Jack will likely come home late this evening from Vancouver to spend the night, although she has not yet indicated so.

Perhaps I will here post a few further photos that she took last Fall when she charged the cost of a flight to return to her family home in Thailand to see her mother for the first time since February/March 2013.

The family home is in the very large village of Nong Soong, which is no more than maybe a 15-minute drive from Udon Thani.

I would venture that she took the following photos on November 7, 2016. The first features a young woman and baby, both of whom are unknown to me:

The next two photos feature Jack's mother:

The chicken in this next photo might actually be just outside of Jack's home:

I remember how after my first visit to Thailand in early 2003 when I came to know and love Jack, anytime we would be speaking to each other through one of those cheap long distance cards, I would hear chickens and even geese. It was so peaceful to me, and made me long to be there.

The boy in the next photo is in many of Jack's photos, but I do not know him ─ he likely never existed the last time I was in Thailand back in 2005:


If you are someone who suffers from indigestion (heartburn) serious enough that you resort to some kind of medication to keep it in check, do you know if you take any of the class of drugs known as proton pump inhibitors (PPIs)?

The latest research makes the case all the more strongly that you need to get yourself off this stuff:





That last report also enumerates other documented evils that PPIs are known to bring on. Yet the Pharmaceutical Industry is allowed to continue to make huge profits because these things are left on the market.

People need to pay attention ─ research a little. It is very difficult to sympathize too deeply with those who cannot bother to find out this sort of information for themselves.


Just this past month, I was compelled to take Advil for maybe nearly a week due to severe pain arising from a large abscess in my left cheek that I had let develop for too long because I thought that it was just swelling from inflammation due to temporomandibular joint dysfunction.  

We also have Tylenol in the house, but I opted to stick with the Advil.

Tylenol's active ingredient is acetaminophen ─ do you know that it is the largest cause of liver failure in the U.S.? 

Many people ─ even medical authorities ─ believe that nothing containing acetaminophen should be available over the counter. Others even go so far as to express that it should not be on the market at all.

Here are some reports concerning why it has been making news recently:





Take it at your own risk. But if you ever suffer liver failure, you have no right to some big cash settlement. Not if you knew of the risks, but chose to ignore them.


Another drug making the recent news has been Remicade ─ it was deemed responsible for killing a boy who was being treated with it for his Crohn's disease:



Can that first report be accurate where the postmarketing surveillance of the drug is concerned? Janssen Biotech, Inc. gets to keep selling the toxin as long as they keep tabs on the number of kids who develop cancer and/or die while receiving it for their Crohn's disease between now and 2027?

America, you guys need to do something about your FDA!


Well, my wife Jack phoned me just ahead of 4:40 p.m., requesting I take out a frozen tilapia from the fridge icebox, and leave it on a plate on the kitchen counter.

She will be home this evening, as I had presumed.

The time has come now for me to close out with an entry from my journal of 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster. I was renting my small accommodation in a house situated on Ninth Street, and one or two houses up from Third Avenue.
FRIDAY, March 12, 1976

I arose a few minutes beyond 7:00 a.m. 

I think I may attempt to walk to my Sapperton doctor appointment; the day has been sunless, so I'm hoping it doesn't rain.

I lied down from about 10:30 a.m. - noon, and later, worked on the foundation of a letter to Terri.

I walked to my appointment, but wasn't seen for about an hour later. Neilson wants to see me in 2 weeks' time, and he figures I'll be about ready to work then.

My walk home was done with greater ease and in less time.

At dusk as arranged, I went to Bill's to watch TV. His mother was with him.

He soon took her home, promising to try to be back by 9:00 p.m. (he was going to Nell's for awhile).

Well, I watched TV till 11:10 p.m. and ate his peanuts, but he didn't get back.

I'll be abed shortly past 11:30 p.m.
I had recently undergone an emergency appendectomy due to the rupture of that organ, and did not get released from hospital until into my twelfth day there. It was rather a serious situation.

Dr. Nielson or Nielsen was the performing surgeon. His office was over near the Royal Columbian Hospital, so this was my first rather ambitious walk since hospitalization.

The letter I worked on was to an American pen-pal, Terri Martin.

My old friend William Alan Gill was renting a bachelor suite and lived perhaps four or so blocks from my room. I only owned a smallish black & white TV, and had to rely on its antenna. Bill not only had cable-vision, but he also owned a fairly large colour TV.

His mother Anne Gregory was renting a house (or part of one) over in Maillardville. She was a frequent fixture at his place, doing his cleaning, cooking, and laundry. Heck, he would even take her to do his shopping.

Whether or not he took her directly home that evening, I cannot say. He might have taken her with him when he went to visit my maternal Aunt Nell Halverson well out into Surrey. Nell had a large household, and the weekend was just about always party time.

Those were darned fun times at her place!

However, it was better that I behaved and properly healed that night.

Okay, let's get back to the present. 

As I was typing this section, the doorbell rang. I left it to my youngest step-son Poté to answer, but he did not. And his elder brother Tho had stepped out earlier.

I remained upstairs where I keep my computer. Nevertheless, I did resort to my bedroom to peer out the blinds in order to try and see who it was that left. In due course, I saw two young well-dressed men ─ one of whom had a black leather case slung over his left shoulder ─ stroll out to a black car parked across the street.

They had been by not all that long ago ─ a week to 10 days, perhaps ─ and failed to get a response to their attempt to visit back then, too.

I suspect that they are Mormons seeking my younger brother Mark.

I never have personal visitors ─ I have no friends living anywhere near here. Thus, I do not tend to ever answer the door. I cannot imagine any beneficial reason for doing so, and in fact the chances are more likely that it will be someone seeking a subscription charitable donation of some sort; or it may even be religious proselytizers, or maybe even a political party representative on some similar mission. 

I would love to have a nearby friend come calling ─ I wish that it could be. But I have absolutely no time or resources to yield up for any other type of visitor.
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