.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


Monday, June 26, 2017

Cheese's D-Methionine and Hearing Loss Prevention │ Legionnaires' Disease Cases Are Most Likely Contracted in Health Care Facilities

My younger brother Mark was unconscious for awhile after he was home last evening from the bar ─ he had sat in his chair in the living room with a beer to watch an episode of Chicago Fire that I was about to tune in. I don't think he saw any of it. He even spoke out some nonsensical statement in his delirium at one point.

He revived once the landmark episode ended. It was an episode in which it appeared that three key characters were going to lose their lives in a warehouse fire, although one of them ─ "Mouche" (played by Christian Stolte) ─ may have incurred a fatal heart attack and thus was probably already dead.

Next I tuned in an episode of Prison Break, at the start of which Mark just seemed to disappear. Eventually I got curious enough to ferret him out and in so doing noticed that he was seated out in the gloom on the backyard sundeck with his beer.

I guess that was his statement declaring that he had suffered enough of the day's heat.

My wife Jack showed up from Vancouver while Mark was still out there.

I was not expecting her, but I did wonder if this might happen. I was rather hoping it would not, for I was eager to be getting to bed once Mark had done so.

When Mark came back into the house to watch a wee bit more T.V., I tuned in The Ranch. It was the second episode of the first season. I had already seen it, but I wanted Mark to watch it too. From this point, the episodes will all be new to the both of us.

Once he finally called it a day, I bided time watching news programmes until I noticed that my youngest stepson Poté had gone to bed ─ my wife Jack was upstairs in our bedroom. The door was shut, but the light was on. So I repaired here to the room where I keep my computer ─ the room beside our bedroom ─ and played FreeCell games as I waited and wondered about getting to bed.

I even considered going back downstairs and lying on the chesterfield.

And then Jack emerged and went into the bathroom. I could have gone to bed then, but I had not had a final use of the bathroom for the night. So I spent more time waiting.

Ultimately I went out into the backyard and stroaned.

It was my hope to get myself to bed before Jack forsook the bathroom, but just as I approached the bedroom doorway, she opened the bathroom door and was clearly also about to go to bed.

And so we retired at the same time ─ an awkward rarity.

Sleep was difficult in the heat. However, my trouble was complicated by the unease I felt in realizing how potentially irreconcilable the relationship distance has become between Jack and I. There is no animosity or hard feelings, but neither of us could even bid the other a "Good-night."

This realization began to hurt me; I had to struggle against dwelling upon it. I could not help but speculate if she also wonders on what has brought us to this rift, and if it is permanent. We have not been physically intimate in over four years.

So yes, it was a bad night. Yet I never heard her rise in the morning to drive her lazy eldest son Tho to the SkyTrain here in Surrey so that he would not have to take his usual bus to get to it ─ he works in Burnaby. She must have done so, and then returned to bed without me being aware.

I think that it was around 7:21 a.m. when I finally checked the time in the morning and decided to rise so that I could get to work on the post I have begun at my Latin Impressions website.

It did not seem likely that I would be having an exercise session out in the backyard shed today, for the heat of the day would soon be too great; and this prediction proved correct. But I hate having a totally lazy day. If I do not exercise, I like to at least have gone somewhere to shop ─ whether for groceries or to resupply in beer.

Jack rose very late in the morning. And then in the noon hour, left to do some shopping, and possibly even get in a walk somewhere. And that afforded me the opportunity to get a good start on this post.

I noticed that Google sent me a notification today about a collage it created of some photos ─ the collage is a sort of commemoration of exactly four years ago:

My wife Jack had a fractured wrist back then ─ and she is posed here in our backyard. These are the original photos:

That shed visible in the last photo is where I exercise when I am up to it. It gets harder and harder to find the motivation as the years wear on. Sometimes I think that it would just be better to non-exist.

One of the things that somewhat bothers me is tinnitus. I can well imagine how extreme cases of it can nearly drive the sufferer to tears.

The following two reports concern a recent study by the U.S. military that had found that a compound known as d-methionine can apparently prevent permanent hearing loss in subjects exposed to very loud noise. It can even repair the cells in the ear that are involved in hearing:



As the authour in the first report claims, I, too, think that I could eat five pounds of cheese a day, but I would prefer to have it be an organic product. I couldn't afford to do it on my present pension income, however. Cheese is not inexpensive.

By the way, I noticed in doing a little research that d-methionine has been getting studied for potential hearing benefit for at least the past decade ─ note this study published back in 2007 titled Prevention of noise- and drug-induced hearing loss with d-methionine.

What's taking so long getting this confirmed and all figured out?

One other health-related matter I will take the time to broach concerns Legionnaires' disease. I remember when the first known deadly outbreak made the news back in 1976, exactly 41 years ago next month. I was 26 years old at the time.

Well, believe it or not, not only has it not disappeared, but it is popping up with increasing frequency ─ it's just not making headlines. However, it would seem that about three-quarters of the cases actually arise in health-care facilities of one type or another.

This report tells of it:


That report cited the following article as a reference, but it did not link to it:


Of course, you don't have to go to a hospital or someplace like that to pick up a case of infection ─ you might just have the bacteria in your home's shower head ─ note these two older reports:
I bathe. 

It is 2:07 p.m. at this very moment, so I think that I shall try and finish today's post before my wife Jack returns ─ so far, so good. I will close out with this journal entry from 41 years ago ─ back when I was 26 years old, but just before the Legionnaires' disease story broke.

Back then, I was living in a small basement housekeeping unit that I was renting in a private New Westminster home located on Ninth Street, and about two houses up from Third Avenue. 

I had been at a function the evening before at S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends), a charitable organization in New Westminster for which I worked. I have no memory of the event, but it evidently involved lots of food, and even games with prizes.
SATURDAY, June 26, 1976

I was so full I had to get up at 2:15 a.m. I made up an apple pie, and while it baked I worked on a letter to Jean. I am returning to bed about 4:40 a.m.

I next arose at 8:45 a.m.

I learned last night that none of the footwear I picked up thru S.A.N.E. Thursday fit properly. So, the large boots are going to Bill and the desert shoes that are too constricting are for Mark ─ if they can wear them.

The pie I made turned out very pleasing with yogurt (my breakfast).

The weather this morning seemed sunny, so I was seriously considering torso sunning at Burnaby Lake; however, when I got right down to it I discovered much grey cloud had taken over the sky.

I finished my letter to Jean, and to dad.

At 4:40 p.m. I went to bed for an hour.

My bean & meat stew is nearly nauseous; I'll never more buy heart and kidney if left with the choice.

I'd about resigned myself to an at-home evening when Mark knocked. He came to take me with them (Cathy & Don were in the truck, but soon came in here) for the divorce celebration. All 3 had been with dad & Marie, and supped there; dad gave them an address whereby they can now buy raw milk.

Anyway, I guess dad will never change, for they left him in the Burnaby Hotel while I guess Marie was at home expecting them back from the liquor store.

I didn't care to go out, but relented.

We went to the Surrey Inn and there joined Garry & Cathy and John & Christine. I stayed about 2¾ hours, finally leaving unceremoniously afoot for home about 11:20 p.m. I drank 1 beer but spent $4.

Bill's light was on when I passed by.

Crossing 6th Street I was recognized by Dwayne returning from Venus with another guy and 2 girls who proceeded to a suite above the pet shop. We spoke a while.

Bed 1:15 a.m.
The letter I got an early-morning start upon was to American pen-pal Jean M. Martin (née Black).   

My younger brother Mark's girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther had just been granted her divorce on Wednesday ─ she and Mark may have been together at this point since sometime in 1974. Don was her brother, visiting from their family home back in Saskatchewan, I would expect.

I find it most interesting that the three of them had just come from spending quite some time with my father Hector and his girlfriend Maria Fadden ─ they were renting an apartment in Burnaby. The Burnaby Hotel probably is not the same hotel that may bear that name today ─ my father usually preferred beer parlours that were low-scale.

Anyway, I reluctantly went out with my visitors to the Surrey Inn. It no longer exists, but it used to be located over by the King George SkyTrain Station in Whalley. Perhaps I was not in a financial position to be out drinking, and that was why I only had one beer. The group we joined included Mark's best friend Garry Porteous and Garry's girlfriend Cathy or Kathy, but I have no memory of the other couple. 

I was probably quite bored by the time I likely snuck away on the revelers and walked all the way back to my room in New Westminster.

My old friend William Alan Gill lived four or so blocks from my room ─ I could have visited him, but it was already late enough. 

It was Dwayne Johnston or Johnson that I was to encounter ─ Dwayne was a very likeable, good-looking young fellow whose sister Evelyn and I almost became involved. But I don't want to get into that now ─ Jack is home, so I must wrap this up. 
Post a Comment