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Sunday, June 18, 2017

Pneumonia: 22% of Cases Do Not Respond to Antibiotics │ Statins Proving Ineffective as Well as Dangerous

What a dreadful waste of time watching the movie Life was last evening.

I can handle bloody violent science fiction and horror movies ─ if they finish with the 'good guys' winning the day, even if at great cost.

But my life is bleak and hopeless enough ─ I don't need to be going to bed after watching a movie in which all sacrifice was in vain, and humanity is about to fall prey to some indestructible killing alien creature that just views us all as easily obtained food.

The oppressive weight of that movie's denouement contributed to some trouble for me getting to sleep. I don't exactly recall now when it was that I got to bed, but it was definitely before 10:50 p.m. No one else was home.

Once I was to sleep, it was a typical night. I used the bathroom during one of the breaks in sleep, and drank some water.

Strangely, I cannot now venture just when it was that I commenced my day this morning. It must surely have preceded 7:00 a.m.

An overcast day was in store, and one marked with rain showers.

As I am wont to do, I was fast at work adding content to a post at one of my six hosted websites: Lawless Spirit. However, before I got started, I came across an E-mail sent to me last afternoon by my older half-sister Phyllis ─ she used my Yahoo account, which I do not tend to check with any frequency.

I hadn't heard from her in weeks. She had gotten married to an American, and was down in the States at his ranch, I suppose.

The two had been at her home in Chilliwack back in December, and he suffered a slip and fall due to very wintry conditions. It required a visit to the hospital, but Phyllis had said that he only suffered "soft tissue" damage.

Here is the meat of what she had to say yesterday:
sorry about not communicating - I did try but from another email add. from Bob's new computer. The old one  wasn't doing very well (duplicating) turned out it had a cracked 'board'.
Well, Bob never recovered from the fall in Dec. in my driveway, he was impatient and kept chasing doctors 'quick cures' e.g.: pain clinic, then Stem cell therapy and the pills prescribed by doctors, the treatments & procedures all made him worse and at his age his body just couldn't recover, and he passed away May 26.
I am at home now and selling the house, to move into a gated community setting.  Finding more of mom's stuff for you to check if you want it, then throw away (or whatever).
Anyway, I couldn't access my email because I  had forgotten the password, and my cellphn had disconnected and had to reinstate it in order to get the email back up after I returned to Canada.
I had never met the chap. In fact, I think that it may have been some months before I even knew that Phyllis had remarried.

Consequently, it isn't any great surprise that she waited so long to report the tragedy of his passing.

I let my younger brother Mark know after he arrived home ahead of 9:00 a.m. this morning after spending the night at the home of his girlfriend Bev.

I must say, my eyes have been bothering me very much today ─ my vision seems especially clouded. I only forced a partial exercise session upon myself around 2:00 p.m. out in the backyard tool shed. Otherwise, I might have skipped it entirely.

Actually, I believe that I would have, but my wife Jack said two or three days ago that she would be home on Monday to drive her eldest son Tho to a lawyer appointment concerning an auto accident in which he received some injury after the car he was in was victimized by a 'hit and run' in April of 2016.

I rather suspect that Jack will show up this evening and spend the night. Thus, tomorrow could be a write-off where any physical activity on my part is concerned; I had to at least get in some today, even if I didn't feel up to it.

Even lying down during the midday has not done much to help me feel better.

I note that Phyllis's husband was nearly 90; I am but 67, so he had a long time on me. I can't but think that I likely won't be bounding right back up in 22 years after incurring a harsh fall, either.

I guess I may as well accept that bouncing back from any illnesses at all is less and less likely as the years pile on.

Just today, I read the following brief commentary on a study that involved pneumonia, and which found that a large percentage of cases do not respond to antibiotics. Don't get thrown off by the title. Pneumonia can be developed at any time, and the authour was merely speaking about the risk in the present time of year ─ he was not suggesting that there is a special summertime type of pneumonia:


I did a little further research about this, and found that some physicians question whether the rate of antibiotic-resistance is actually as high as claimed, for the study never confirmed that all of the cases of pneumonia in the study were of the bacterial variety ─ the condition covered by the umbrella term 'pneumonia' can also be caused by viruses, and antibiotics are meaningless to them:


Naturally, no one is disputing that there undoubtedly are lots of cases of bacteria-caused pneumonia that fail to benefit from treatment with antibiotics.

This all has me wondering why ─ if a physician diagnoses someone with a case of pneumonia ─ he or she does not assess just exactly whether bacteria or viruses are behind it?

Would it not be essential to know precisely which microbe needs to be dealt with?

I have also come across reports on two different studies of statin medications ─ both studies indicate that most people should not be taking them. One study identified how ineffective they are; and both studies pointed out that they are just too dangerous.

Let's start with these two reports about the study that found statins to be ineffective, yet they are practically being forced upon seniors who are without any heart disease:



Now let's get into some of those big risks:



I may be getting on in years, but I am not so damned stupid as to be taking medications when I am not even sick!

But moving on to something else ere I forget, I saw notification today that Google had created a collage of this day from some photos my wife Jack and I took exactly five years ago:

So now I shall try and track down all five of the original photos, beginning with the column of three at the left.

The first photo displays my wife Jack at the right, posed in a store somewhere in Vancouver with her Italian-born niece Tanya, who was in Vancouver to take an English course, if I remember correctly:

Another pose by the pair on a street in Vancouver:

In this next photo, Tanya is posing with her two cousins, my stepsons ─ Poté is in the centre, and his older brother Tho at the right:

Now starting at the column of two photos in the right of that collage, we see Jack and Tanya enjoying a meal in some restaurant in Vancouver:

Finally, Tho, Poté, my wife Jack, and Tanya at that same restaurant:

As usual, I am running late with this post, so I am going to close 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 was renting the small affair in a house located on Ninth street, and about two houses up from Third Avenue.

I was employed full-time on what was likely a three-month contract with a New Westminster charitable organization called S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends) that is today known as Fraserside Community Service Society.

I was generally performing swamping duties on S.A.N.E.'s blue pick-up truck.

In those early years, S.A.N.E. was housed in an old building that has long since been demolished, but it was located back then right where the New Westminster SkyTrain Station now opens up onto Carnarvon Street.
FRIDAY, June 18, 1976

I had trouble getting asleep last night, and was up this morning before 5:00 a.m. I got some further rest, lying down from 7:15 a.m. - 8:45 a.m.

It was a long, sweltering day.

We did some furniture transferring for Howie.

David dropped in for a while in the afternoon.

Esther calmed some of my fears of Bill's possible operation; but I still think he should take time off work and starve himself instead.  

I bought $4.34 worth of meat (beef heart & boiling chicken) at Safeway.

The landlady appears to be home after an absence of about 3 weeks; I enjoyed the privacy and quiet.

My bean & heart supper wasn't too good because I spoiled it with lousy pickling spices.

Tired, I tried for a nap at 8:00 p.m., and came out of it just past 9:30 p.m.

I thought I might go with Bill and my typewriter to Cathy's ─ or his place ─ and watch a movie at 9:00 p.m., but obviously I needn't fret any longer on it.

I'm writing this, then retiring for good.
"Howie" was an occasional truck swamper ─ we must have moved some items for him.

My old friend Philip David Prince often dropped in at S.A.N.E. to catch up with me. Although he was rooming in New Westminster, he could only expect to see me at S.A.N.E. I generally avoided the poor guy.

Esther St. Jean was S.A.N.E.'s usual truck driver ─ a sweet gal in her early 40s. She must have been telling me what she knew of the intestinal by-pass surgery that my old friend William Alan Gill was pondering. 

Bill made the wrong choice, and went ahead with it. And he was never able to work for a living again ─ he was a cannery worker.

He was supposed to visit me that evening to pick up my Brother Deluxe portable typewriter and take it to Catherine Jeanette Gunther ─ my brother Mark's girlfriend. Mark and Jeanette were renting a home together on Benltey Road in Whalley.

Had he shown up, I might have gone with him. He of course had a car.

It was the last car he would ever own. Once he ended up on a small Canada disability pension, he was never able to afford much ever again, and his lifestyle just went downhill. 
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