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Friday, April 7, 2017

Goals of Chronic Pain Management │ Childhood Emotional Abuse and Opioid Addiction │ Breast Cancer Linked to a Poor Diet in One's Youth

My younger brother Mark headed off to his bedroom last night exceptionally early ─ it was just after 10:00 p.m. What was even more remarkable was that he had already been unconscious for roughly half of the evening prior to that.

My youngest step-son Poté took off for somewhere soon after Mark called it a night. I had scant doubt that Poté was off to hookup with his girlfriend, so I wanted to get to bed and have the front door locked before he returned.

Unfortunately I got caught up in replying to an E-mail, but even though it was 10:43 p.m. by the time I was to bed, the kid had not yet returned.

I had myself another night of fractured sleep, beginning with a very short block that probably wasn't even two hours in duration. Still, I continue to find it comfortable being in bed ─ which makes it so much more mysterious to me why I am failing to sleep efficiently.

If I had any dreams of note, I am not recalling them now.

It was 5:58 a.m. this morning when I decided to start my day.

I was surprised that Tho had not yet left for work, for he sought the bathroom right after I had vacated it and I had then come here to my computer to log into it; and I could hear Poté's girlfriend rousting him downstairs ─ his response sounded incredibly sleepy. The fool oughtn't to be running about so damned late when he has to rise early for work. If he gets sick, he can certainly blame himself.

Fortunately, everyone was gone before 7:00 a.m., I think. By then, it was raining quite hard, causing me some concern, for I was considering a hike to resupply myself with beer later in the morning.

First, though, I set about adding still more content to the post I have been working on for over a week now at my Thai-Iceland website. When I had finally put in about a usual day's work on the post, it was probably 9:30 a.m., and so I began readying for my round-trip trek of about four miles to the government liquor store at 108th Avenue & King George Boulevard here in Whalley.

The rain had stopped, and the sky even gave some appearance of having the cloud cover break up ─ I am certain that I noticed at least one sunny break.

I was 10:16 a.m. when I set off. I did get caught in a steady rain shower when I left the liquor store with the two dozen cans of beer I was to be carrying home, but it essentially petered out by the time I was about halfway home.

I was disappointed to see that the two brands of strong (8% alcohol) beer I buy have rather escalated in price ─ from $7.29 to $7.99 per half-dozen. So that's $2.80 more for the flat of two dozen cans that I bought.

When I was just about home, I encountered a rather odd lass whose antics made me wonder if she was on crack, for she seemed unable to control her movements. She was reasonably dressed, though, and even seemed to have a fairly pleasant physique. But that is not a sure assessment at this time of year when someone is wearing a hooded fleece top.

She kept twisting about where she was standing on the sidewalk ─ almost as if she was waiting and looking around for someone. But the turnabouts did not seem deliberate.

When I approached her to pass by, she said something I could not clearly hear ─ I only heard the word "mail." So I stopped and leaned towards her, requesting she repeat herself.

I then saw that she looked extremely rough, and even much older than I had assumed ─ and not at all attractive. Her face even seemed a bit twisted. There was a ring in the septum of her nose.

She then launched into an explanation that she was awaiting deliverance of her GST cheque, and wondered if I knew if they had come out yet? This would be a quarterly GST refund that is issued to low-income people who have applied for it when they submit their income tax return.

She said something about having contacted her bank, but she was so hard to clearly hear because she kept twisting about and speaking into her hood.

I must say, though, that she had a very nice voice.

I didn't wish to become entangled with her in some need she might have felt to have a lengthy social interaction, so I just declared that I had not yet seen any such payment delivered in the mail, and I bade her a good-bye. I was quite desperate to pee, in truth.

Anyway, I was home no later than 11:45 a.m.

I got to work preparing my first meal of the day; and while upstairs here at my computer eating, at roughly midway through the noon-hour I thought that my wife Jack had shown up from Vancouver ─ yesterday she said via a phone-call that she would probably be here at some time today.

However, it would seem that it was my two step-sons who had come home together. Neither one of them is normally finished work this early, so I have no idea what's going on with them.

Anyway, right now it is 1:29 p.m., and I am feeling in need of a lie-down after my outing and brunch ─ and certainly so if my wife Jack is to show up at any point this afternoon. I won't have a chance after she is here.


Well, I don't know if I drifted off into a nap, but at least I was able to rest.

I might as well post some further wedding photos that were taken last Fall when my wife Jack returned to Thailand to visit her mother for the first time since they were last together in early March 2013.

The family home is in Nong Soong, which is a very large village about a 15-minute drive from the city of Udon Thani.

I think it was the bride who was related to Jack ─ a maternal relative of some description. The event probably took place on November 12 (2016), and was likely held in or near Nong Soong.

I have previously posted three sets of photos from that wedding. This batch begins within a home ─ I am surmising that it is the bride's home, but I don't actually know. The wedding party had just entered into it ─ unfortunately, I cannot identify anyone at all:

This landing area is just outside the front door of the house. I know the groom is in the white uniform, but I am unsure if the bride is represented as yet:

I have no idea who these people are ─ maybe Jack took the photo simply because she loves babies:

A very nice backdrop for some upcoming posed photos:

Perhaps this is the bride, with the groom just to the right:

And here is where I shall stop ─ there are still far too many photos to include in one post.


I have never suffered from chronic pain whose origin or cause was unknown to me, so I cannot always identify with folks who do suffer from mystery pain.

The results of a questionnaire completed by both patients and their regular (or primary) physicians in the U.S. were recently published, and this is basically how the top two priorities of either the patients or else the physicians boiled down:
In total, 48% of patients ranked reducing pain intensity as their top priority, whereas 22% ranked finding a diagnosis as most important.
Physicians ranked improving function as the top priority for 41% of patients, and ranked reducing medication side effects as most important for 26%.
I suppose that the medication side effects of concern to some of those physicians were, of course, the side effects of medication that those specific physicians had prescribed, or else were going to prescribe.

I really don't know how useful a small survey or study like this is, but if you want to read more about it, here are a couple of reports:



That second report is fiercely critical of the medical profession, but the profession as a whole most definitely does push drugs as a first resort.

Again, the number of patients and physicians involved in that study was exceedingly small, it should be noted.


We all have a pretty good handle on what both sexual and physical abuse is in terms of children, don't we? But do we have the same sure identification of what emotional abuse is?

I don't think we do. It is far, far too subjective. It's like positively identifying what harassment is within the workplace ─ I have seen some utterly ludicrous claims of harassment that should never have even been entertained when the claimants put them forth.

We have become a society of weaklings.

Consequently, I am unsure how I feel about the results of a recent study concerning just what leads to the opioid addiction epidemic ─ here are some reports on it:




And once again, this source quite overdoes the criticism of the study, but I agree with the criticism to some level:


I have no doubt that opioid addicts when surveyed will indicate their childhood experience of emotional abuse. It would be the pampered or sheltered child indeed who would not feel he or she has suffered from some of that.

But is "emotional abuse" being categorized as broadly as is "harassment" in the workplace or anywhere else? Supposedly, if a person feels it is happening, even if no one else agrees, then it is happening ─ in that person's interpretation, that is.

And that's all that is required.

If a person perceives that he or she is being harassed, then modern consensus is that it is indeed so ─ no matter how preposterous the claim might seem to everyone else in the world.

This is where we are at today.

And so it is with emotional abuse. It is far too simple to self-identify that it is happening ─ or that it has happened to us in the past.

There is too much of this pervasive latitude as to just what emotional abuse or harassment are.

It's gotten so screwy.


It should not be surprising that a poor diet in one's youth and early adulthood will probably spell later health issues as that person ages.

Consequently, a recently published study which found that just such a poor dietary background is implicated in many cases of breast cancer oughtn't to surprise anyone.

Here are some reports about the study:




There is just no escaping the fact that an excellent diet is the paved road to overall good health!


Here to close out today's post is 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 my small space in a house located on Ninth Street, and a couple of houses up from Third Avenue.
WEDNESDAY, April 7, 1976

I arose about 6:30 a.m.

I was a half hour later doing my laundry, and bought 1 comic.

I next went to the downtown post office and bought 2 money orders ($24.88 and $7) for vitamins, orders I'll mail off this evening. I went to Army & Navy, but the cheap runners of Monday were gone. And over at Safeway I bought some Dutch.

It's a pretty good sunny day, but my head isn't all right; I intend to catch a nap.

And I did; about 1½ hours of sound sleep.

Tonight I went to the park, but did little in the way of exercise. I passed David's large rooming house on my way home.

Bed at 11:30 p.m.
I believe that the laundromat's door automatically opened at 8:00 a.m., so I normally tried to get there as early as possible to avoid the crush of later users. I can no longer remember where the store was that I would go to check for interesting magazines and pocket books while I was awaiting my laundry, but the laundromat was on Sixth Avenue, very nearby the public library.

After returning to my room, my next trip was down to Columbia Street.

The "Dutch" I bought at Safeway was Old Dutch Cleanser.

I wonder why I didn't do much by way of exercise at the outdoor fitness circuit at Queen's Park? Perhaps there was someone thereabouts ─ I was a very private person, and unable to exercise if anyone was around. Performance issues.

My old friend Philip David Prince also lived in New Westminster at this time. We first came to know one another when we found ourselves in Grade VIII at Newton Junior High School out in Surrey during the 1962/1963 school term.

He had just moved into his new digs (330 - Fourth Street) from another room elsewhere in town, and I had yet to visit him there. Apparently I was not interested in doing so on this day ─ it would have been a time-consuming event, so I likely opted to just get back to my room.

And now let me have a final word on today ─ it has become most windy out there, but at least it isn't raining. Every room here upstairs where my computer is has an open window, and the wind keeps blowing various doors shut.

It's always unsettling when things get windy hereabouts, but I hate closing the windows. It's unhealthy to be shut up.
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