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Friday, June 9, 2017

Doctors Forsaking Patients │ Can a Low Carbohydrate Diet Halt Age-Related Macular Degeneration (AMD)? │ Ginger │ Antibiotics Commonly Prescribed for Colds

Last evening went fairly well. My younger brother Mark more-or-less retained his consciousness through that part of his evening in which he sat before the television with me, and he went on up to his bedroom ahead of 10:30 p.m.

The exact details are now eluding me, but I know that I was in bed well before 11:00 p.m., and I started my day today long before 7:00 a.m.

My sleep was not ideal, and I have found myself dealing with what feels like a vague eyestrain headache today.

My youngest stepson Poté was still in bed when I rose this morning, but he was son enough to rise as well, and may have headed out the door around 7:40 a.m. to drive himself to work.

And I was home alone.

I put in about half the work I had hoped to get done today at the post I am compiling at my Siam-Longings website, and then I broke and began readying for an outing to discharge three errands here in Whalley.

I left here somewhere in the neighbourhood of 9:45 a.m. under a primarily overcast sky.

My first destination was a hike of about a mile to the Coast Capital Savings building over by the King George SkyTrain Station ─ I would be depositing a small expenses reconciliation cheque from my brother Mark into the ATM there.

Then I proceeded along King George Boulevard to Save-On-Foods to do some grocery shopping. Unfortunately, they did not have a 4.5-kg pail of Golden Boy natural peanut butter, my salient interest in making the shopping trip.

With the grocery shopping done, I headed back home by way of Surrey Place (Central City) so that I could cash in a lottery scratch ticket that was worth $1 ─ I am still scratching my slow way through a number of tickets that were given to me as Christmas presents.

And I was back home before quite 11:15 a.m.

I seem to have undergone a mental slip, for I believed that I had completed all of the work that I wanted to get done at that Siam-Longings post. It had entirely escaped me that I only finished half of what I wanted done. It was while I was lying down just ahead of noon resting my bad eyes (and weary physique) that the truth dawned upon me, so I hope somehow today to get back at the task.

The noisy brown hound just beyond our backyard fence probably kept me from lapsing into a nap.

It is only 1:14 p.m. at this very moment as I type these words. I want to get some upper body exercise in the backyard tool shed before too much longer, if I can rally sufficiently for it. I have yet to eat anything today ─ I have only had my day's usual two hot beverages (a blend of instant coffee and cocoa powder, nicely sweetened and richly creamed).

But before I do aught else, I wish to post this old image ─ the description beneath is from the Google album where I have it filed:

A scanned photo from my mother Irene Dorosh's collection.

This is her husband Alex, and looks to me as if the photo was taken back in the late 1960s or into the 1970s.

I would also venture that Alex has behind him his place of employment. Unfortunately, I never paid all that much attention to his affairs, but he may have been working at Domtar in New Westminster.

Have you ever heard of a doctor essentially banning a patient from getting seen by him or her any longer?

The following article from NewMarketHealth.com talks about it, but I think the author is off base by terming the ban as a "firing":
Can your doctor fire you?

Actually, he can! In fact, a new survey discovered that 9 out of 10 primary care practices have done just that.

The reasons given include things like patients who are "disruptive" and ones who "violate" office policies regarding addictive meds, miss too many appointments, and don't pay their bill in a timely fashion.

Sounds logical, right?

Then there's this: "Repeated disregard of a doctor's medical recommendations."

That's something we've been hearing a lot about lately, mostly with pediatricians who "fire" parents and kids from their practice for not following mainstream vaccination schedules.

And conceivably, your doctor could do the same if you refuse to take whatever Rx or even test that he's recommending.

There are ethical guidelines a doctor needs to observe, however, before terminating a relationship with a patient:
  • He can't simply cut someone off who's in the midst of "ongoing care" -- such as an expectant mother who is a few weeks from delivery or a cancer patient in the midst of a round of chemo or radiation.
  • He's obligated to provide the patient with access to all medical records and, whenever possible, a suggestion for a new physician. He also has to give sufficient notice -- usually by certified mail -- along with the reasons for his decision to offer no further treatment.
Of course, if your doctor keeps pushing risky drugs, tests and procedures on you that you don't want or even need, maybe it's time for you to "fire" him... and find a physician who's both more in tune with your health needs and respectful of your wishes.
Even better terms for the firing or banning of a patient are mentioned in the following two related articles:



I guess it happens, alright; but I have never heard anyone I knew claim that it happened to him or her.


The following research involving mice definitely caught my attention. And it should be of striking interest to anyone who is getting on in years, and is having vision trouble.

I want to have my eyes thoroughly examined this Summer, for I know that something is certainly wrong. I would like to learn if I actually have an identifiable eye disorder such as age-related macular degeneration (AMD).

These reports on the research tell of how AMD was completely halted. This is important because there is no cure for AMD, so at least getting its progression halted is a crucial step.

However, if I am understanding this mice study, the damage already done was even showing evidence of undergoing repair!

I was also interested by how important the gut microbiome reportedly is in all of this.

So how was the progression of AMD halted?

Read for yourself:




This final reference is an interview with the lead researcher ─ or at least, senior author:


I am hoping all the more that my recent involvement with the natural fermentation of vegetables here at home is doing me even more benefit where my intestinal flora is concerned than I have ever imagined.

But time will tell.


For at least the past half-year, I have been eating quite a lot of raw ginger. I don't have raw ginger every day, but more often than not.

Fresh ginger root is amazingly cheap, too.

The following article is very short, but it should give you a decent introduction into why you might benefit from adding ginger to your diet.


I didn't realize that ginger was related to the turmeric plant ─ I very often have both raw ginger and turmeric in the same dish!


I reported on this study just recently, but I will do so again ─ it concerns how commonplace antibiotic prescriptions are for conditions like the common cold. Seniors seem to be especially vulnerable to this most un-medical practice.

Here are some reports about the fiasco:




I remember a female physician ─ possibly back in Ontario ─ who was being interviewed by a journalist on some T.V. news programme almost gleefully proclaimed how she regularly prescribed antibiotics to Syrian immigrants when they showed signs of infections like colds. It was done, of course, 'just to be safe.'

Even when I heard her say it, I knew that she was a pompous ninny who had no right to be doing this. Antibiotics should never be administered 'just in case' there is an associated bacterial infection when there is no indication whatsoever that a bacterial infection is involved with the cold or sniffles or whatever other viral problem is being manifested.

It's too dangerous any longer introducing antibiotics into us or our environment unless they are absolutely essential.

'Just in case' is sheer damned folly.

People like her have helped 'super-bugs' to develop and proliferate.


Well, I did have that shed workout, despite my vague headache. I got out there and exercised ahead of 3:00 p.m.

And for the third time this week, I was able to do one pull-up more in my total of repetitions over five sets than I had managed to do previously thus far this entire year. 

I don't quite understand what it is that has given me the wherewithal to achieve that performance total in repetitions three times this week, for I have not felt particularly well on any of those three days.

The afternoon became quite a nice blend of Sun and cloud early on. Had I not this blog to be concerned with, I would have sat out in the backyard and soaked up some of the warmth and sunshine.

Unfortunately, I am also struggling a little with some waywardness. But that statement is for me to fathom ─ I will not explain it.

Finally, my wife Jack phoned me from Vancouver, all concerned that I transfer over $200 into her account to be there to meet a car insurance payment (or something like that). She said that she would be home tonight.

I expect that means that she plans to spend the night, so I will not be getting to bed especially early ─ I was looking forward to embracing a good sleep to try and shake this darned nagging vague headache.

I close today's post out now with a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster. I recall that I was renting the little affair in a house on Ninth Street, and about two houses up from Third Avenue.  

For a few weeks now, I had been employed full-time on a three- or four-month contract with a New Westminster charitable organization called S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends) that today is known as Fraserside Community Services Society.

I had just gotten appointed three working days prior to this post to working on the S.A.N.E. pick-up truck as a swamper, for I had practically no duties whatsoever in those initial weeks, and it was clear that I was being utterly underutilized.

Besides, the usual truck driver, a wonderful woman in her early 40s named Esther St. Jean ─ very much liked me. I had worked with her so many times before when I had been employed with S.A.N.E. as a part-timer. 

In those early years, S.A.N.E. ─ known familiarly by us as "the store" ─ was housed in an old building. It no longer exists, but it was then located where the New Westminster SkyTrain Station now opens up onto Carnarvon Street. 

I was a few days into the grip of a rhinovirus.
WEDNESDAY, June 9, 1976

Up at 6:00 a.m. My infection has progressed to my left ear. I sure could use more sleep.

I rested up for a little over an hour, postponing my laundry.

I had an easy time of it this overcast day.

On our way to Vancouver we stopped for a woman at the complex dad lives in. And going to Tsawwassen, Esther bought some fruit, giving Gord & I a tangerine and cherries.

Coming back she bought us a chocolate-dipped soft ice-cream.

I learned that the McBride smorgasbord is again open.

I stopped at Safeway after work for a pie and yogurt.

Soon after getting home I went to bed for better than an hour, enjoying a deep nap.

At dusk I went to see if Bill was home; it was starting to lightly rain.

He was. I boned up on meat buys.

It was still lightly raining when I left.

Bill may go to Point Roberts with Allan & Marie Saturday, tho he doesn't now wish to. Anyway, he said I could watch TV that night at his place.

I'll be in bed by 10:40 p.m.

P.S. I finished E.R. Eddison's The Worm Ouroborous.
That was some of the appeal of swamping on the truck ─ we might go just about anywhere within reasonable reach.

My old friend William Alan Gill was renting a bachelor suite maybe four or so blocks from my room. I would have gone to visit him, armed with knowledge of some great meat deals. Bill had a car.

The poor guy was always getting himself enmeshed in social situations that he would be unable to extricate himself from, and too often he would do what he could to get me entangled in them, too.

Al and Marie Varga were a couple renting an apartment in New Westminster ─ definitely 'good people,' but I sure couldn't afford hanging out with them. I was constantly struggling to make it on what little income I obtained. In fact, the reason I bothered mentioning the fare Esther had splurged and shared with "Gord" and I was because it was food I was very unlikely to otherwise have enjoyed.

Bill also had a nice colour T.V., and cablevision (or cable T.V.). I only had a smaller black & white T.V. that relied upon its built-in rabbit ears for reception.  

Gosh, I entirely forgot about E.R. Eddison and his style of very early 'sword & sorcery' fiction. 

Well, it is 5:42 p.m. right now. If I properly exercise my brains, I should seek a good lie-down to salve my burning, tortured eyes, and maybe alleviate that vague headache.
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