.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


Thursday, May 11, 2017

Epidemic of Deadly Liver Disease │ Re-Calibrating Our Internal Clocks │ Why White, Middle-Aged Americans Are Dying Younger │ Best Means of Stopping Statin Muscle Pain

I was in bed last evening by 10:39 p.m. And although I did rise twice during the night to use the bathroom since I was awake anyway, I thought that I had a fair night of it where sleep was concerned.

It was 6:22 a.m. when I checked the time in the morning and decided to get up. My youngest step-son Poté had already just gotten up. As I was to soon discover, his older brother Tho had not gone to work and was still in bed.

Tho never was to go to work, and I have no idea if he just called in and faked being sick because he was simply too damned lazy; or if he was contacted and told to stay home because there was not enough business ─ he was home yesterday during the noon-hour for that reason (or so I am supposing).

I got busy and finally published the February 3, 2013, post edit I had been working on for many days now at my Siam-Longings website: Udon Thani Photo Gallery.

I had meant to get out and perform a couple of errands, but by this point I was feeling too drowsy from sitting here at my computer working upon that post for a couple of hours.

So I decided to rest up by seeking a bit of a nap, if it should arrive. It had begun raining around mid-morning.

I had just managed to fall into a nap when my cellphone rang ─ it was my wife Jack asking me to take a couple of packages of meat out of the fridge icebox.

I did as requested, but was in no shape to be going anywhere ─ I needed that nap. However, I was also hungry, so I decided to have brunch first.

It was into the noon-hour by the time I finally got back to bed. And quickly it began pouring rain tumultuously outside. I was glad not to be out there; but I also knew that if the rain kept up to that degree, I would not be going anywhere.

My mind was initially very active, but the sound of the pounding rain on the roof just outside my open bedroom window was wonderful 'white noise' drowning out all other sounds, and eventually I did nap.

I was in bed for well over an hour.

Upon deciding to rise, I suddenly heard my wife Jack come through the front door and calling for me ─ it was almost 2:00 p.m. She wanted me to bring down some laundry that she planned to get started. She would also be doing some cooking, but she had somewhere she had to be in Vancouver by 4:00 p.m.

The poor girl ─ she had just come home here to Surrey from Vancouver.

She had no idea that Tho was home; so in her surprise at seeing him in the boys' den area sitting at their computer, she had some very excited words with him concerning why he was home and not at work. Of course, it was all in Thai, so I still have no idea why he never went to work.

By the time Jack had done what errands she felt she could accomplish and was preparing to leave us, she lamented that she was "late again."

However that may be, I doubt that she will be showing up again late this evening. And if not, then I cannot certainly guess when it may be ─ Saturday or Sunday?

Wait and see....


Apart from the sugars that we knowingly consume, there are so many more hidden away and disguised in every variety of processed and manufactured food products that it is little wonder that we are all falling prey to diseases like cancers, and even cirrhotic livers in non-alcoholics.

The Pharmaceutical Industry loves this sort of thing, trying to mine the gold out there.

Untold numbers of us are walking around with non-alcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD) without yet realizing it, and we can pretty much all thank our processed food diets for providing the condition.

By the time NAFLD progresses to the point of becoming non-alcoholic steatohepatitis (NASH), we're courting liver failure and death.

A recent article reported on some of the Pharmaceutical Industry research going into the development of new drugs to try and treat patients who have come to this stage:


The specific trial the article focuses upon had very few subjects; however, I had my attention caught by this paragraph in the short and rather technical article:
Diarrhea, nausea and frequent bowel movements were more common in the treatment arms than the placebo cohort. None of these events were classed as serious, though. And with the trial also wrapping up without any treatment-related deaths, serious adverse events or discontinuations, Bristol-Myers thinks it has a drug with a favorable safety profile on its hands.
I guess it's a heyday indeed when no study participants die, end up hospitalized with some adverse effect of the drug, or just drop out of the trial because of suffering too much from involvement with the drug.

But why not just avoid coming down with this liver condition in the first place? Are processed and packaged foods that important to people that they refuse to use some wisdom in how they eat?

This is a better report:


The food manufacturing industry is generally slowly killing everyone who supports it. Quit doing that, and eat naturally.


If I lived entirely alone, I would try to be in sync with the rising and setting of the Sun, just as our forbears were.

I tried doing it back when I was a young man and mostly unemployed, but I knew nothing of how man-made lighting so disastrously interfered with this synchronization. Maybe I would have had far better success.

The following article would have greatly helped. Don't be put off by the title ─ it is much more than a guide to trying to reset your circadian clock over any weekend. It offers quite a surprising amount of information involving the hormone melatonin, and tells of a most interesting study that was done on campers who were utterly liberated from artificial lighting or even technological gadgets that merely glowed in any degree:


Most of us are unable to live this sort of life ─ if of course we probably should be living it. We have too many conflicting influences in our lives, starting off with employment responsibilities, and of course, other household members. It's impossible to live an ideal 'circadian' lifestyle if you are the only person in a household trying to do it.


The topic that White, middle-aged Americans are starting to die younger on the life expectancy scale, instead of enjoying an ever-increasing rise in life expectancy, is one that I have previously brought up in my blog, but the following article about it is just too good to ignore:


Come on, everyone! How many warning signs do people need to read about before bad health habits start getting changed?

Begin with the abandonment of processed and manufactured food products.


I have never taken a statin medication (and never intend to), so I have no experience with the sort of pain that many people on these medications can suffer ─ it is reportedly a very common side-effect, and only one of so very many.

The following article tries to provide a potential answer to such pain:


However, this report offers a far, far more sure cure for the pain:


Now, isn't that a simple solution?


I have had no physical activity today whatsoever ─ tomorrow must be different.

But for today and this post, I am closing 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. What I was renting was small, and located in a house on Ninth Street, and maybe two houses up from Third Avenue.

This was to be my fifth day working full-time at S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends), a New Westminster charitable organization that is today known as Fraserside Community Services Society.

I had previously worked for S.A.N.E. for quite a number of months on a part-time basis ─ generally just a day per week. However, at that time, I had been employed as a swamper on S.A.N.E.'s blue pick-up truck.

This time, I had absolutely no duties ─ and neither did one or two other fellows hired just as I was. Time weighed so heavily that I struggled with despondence. At least as a part-timer, I had been able to exercise and go on long walks during my free days, as well as read ─ not just fiction, but also non-fiction.

But now, I was forced to be utterly idle, wasting my day in boring indolence when I could have been actively engaged physically if I had been on my own. By the time I was released at the end of these dreary work days, I was sapped of energy or motivation to do much of an active nature ─ it seemed pointless.

Anyway, back then, S.A.N.E. was located in one of a strip of buildings that were situated on Carnarvon Street, right about where the New Westminster SkyTrain Station now opens up onto that same street today.
TUESDAY, May 11, 1976

I didn't get up till nigh 6:45 a.m.

Thanks to my beloved mother, I now have $12 in my wallet...make that $11.

The day augers to be pretty sunny, I guess.

I spent part of my late morning with Dwayne, hiking around downtown looking for and pricing routers.

Mike said when I returned that David was there asking for me.

Right now I am home cooling off; I said I'd price anything Woodward's had to offer.

Now I'm home for lunch; this day, as usual, is dragging out.

Bill Sevenko was in this morning; apparently Bill Anderson still lives above him.

I had a proposition this post-prandial period from Mr. Jeffs thru Mike re slashing, but discarded the notion due to the hard work involved and its inaccessibility. But I surely dislike my current toil.

After drinking about 30 ozs milk I was beset with a stomach upset which lost me an hour in bed. I'm hitting the hay at 10:30 p.m. 
My mother Irene Dorosh had the previous evening paid me for half a bottle of 1,000 capsules of vitamin E (400-I.U.s) that I had just acquired via a mail-order at her home, so whatever she gave me s recompense had bolstered the small amount of cash I possessed.

I think Dwayne may have been Dwayne Johnston or Johnson ─ a very likable, good-looking young fellow whose young sister and I almost had something develop between us that could have been truly meaningful.

After our search of stores, with time on my hands, I must have volunteered to head on up to Woodward's, which was little more than three blocks above where I lived ─ it was located on Sixth Avenue where the Royal City Centre Mall now is. I stopped in at my room to cool off before proceeding.

When I was out with Dwayne, though, my old friend Philip David Prince had dropped in to try and see me. David had a room elsewhere in New Westminster.

Whether or not I found any routers at Woodward's, I likely stopped back at my room to have lunch.

I often supplied updates throughout the day into my journal.

The two Bills I mentioned had both worked with me back when I was a swamper.

Russ Jeffs was my social worker. One of my current co-workers ─ "Mike" ─ must have been speaking with the man, and I had been offered an opportunity of working somewhere doing land-clearing. 

If it was to be just brush-slashing by hand, it would have been very hard work. I suspect that it was primarily a 'make-work' project, and probably someplace rather distant. 

Had it been local ─ somewhere that I could have easily gotten to under my own means, and not needed some hellish long commute ─ perhaps I might have given it a try. However, maybe it would even have required staying in some kind of makeshift camp.

No, thanks. I was far too private a person ─ practically reclusive, in fact.
Post a Comment