.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


Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Are There Cheaper Alternatives to Hearing Aids? │ 25% of All Homes Affected by Toxic Mould

For a change of late, my younger brother Mark showed up last evening well before 8:00 p.m.

I tuned in the latest episode of American Ninja Warrior, but he started passing in and out no later than halfway through. 

And this continued for better than the first half of the season finale of Supergirl that I next tuned in. I truly believe that his brain is no longer able to sustain itself after quantities of beer that never used to put him down.

He's been drinking to binge levels since his late teens, and he's now 65. It takes a toll on the brain.

I am very curious how he plans to contend with his drinking habit once he retires, which won't be all that much longer, I am sure.

After he went to bed, I soon followed suit, leaving just my youngest stepson Poté still up. I was in bed at 11:00 p.m.

It did not turn out to be a very good night's sleep, however. During one wakeful period, I rose around 4:45 a.m. to use the bathroom and drink some water. Mark was already downstairs in preparing for his departure for work.

Sleep was very poor thereafter, and I didn't feel too hale, either. In fact, I felt so poorly that I felt obliged to get up for the day around 5:52 a.m. I exited the bedroom to find that my eldest stepson Tho was in the bathroom.

I killed time at my computer as I waited for him to forsake that facility, and for him to round up whatever he needed to take with him when he headed off for work ─ which he did around 6:07 a.m.

That freed me to go downstairs and prepare my morning's hot beverage. My youngest stepson Poté was still abed, but he was to rise in due time and headed out the front door to his car at 7:32 a.m. to drive himself to work.  

And I was blessedly home alone for the main part of the day for the first time since last Thursday.

I wanted to get out and do some grocery shopping a little over a mile from here, but I wrestled over doing so as I worked building the edit I am involved with of an old post at my hosted website My Retirement Dream.

As I said, I was not feeling too keen ─ it was as if I had the various symptoms of a building headache, but without the pain.

However, if I did indeed go shopping, it would give me the excuse I wanted to skip any other exercising today. If I did not go, then I would have to have the work-out in the backyard tool shed.

But there was one other factor in play that I had to consider in making my decision. Namely, sundeck sunbathing. I had not done any since Friday, and the call is that we may start having some rain showers overnight and tomorrow. Would that not be the better day to waste being outdoors on such a hike? 

If I went shopping today, I likely would not have time for sunbathing today, too. And tomorrow would only find me shut up in the house all day if the weather forecast holds true. So if I at least went shopping that day instead of today, then I would be out benefiting from some daylight ─ overcast or not. 

As it was, the appointed work I wanted to get done on the post dragged me on into the morning farther than I intended, and that swayed my choice to remain home today. 

I had the shed exercise, although I had to take an extended break nearly midway through before tackling the grueling pull-ups. I think I was out in the shed just before 10:50 a.m.

Afterward, I weighed in at 187 or 188 pounds while stripped entirely down.

I also got my sundeck sunbathing, starting at 11:54 a.m., and calling it quits at 12:57 p.m. A nice breeze kept it fairly pleasant out there.

Other than how I have felt, my only major complaint about my day has been the damned brown hound just beyond our backyard fence. The brainless, selfish owners have kept that loudmouth, whimpering, pathetic excuse of an animal outside since well before 10:00 a.m., and it has been a torment of noise for me ever since (it is 3:03 p.m. as I type this).

If the legal clearance was issued to me today to do it, I would gladly have put a bullet through its empty head.  

The animal is a sniveling weakling ─ whining and howling and just generally barking incessantly because it has no capacity to spend time in just its own company. 

I have no respect for such a blatant personality weakness.

And I have suffered that detestable 'thing' for over four years. The owners do nothing to curb its noise beyond eventually bringing it into the house just as it wants, thereby reinforcing its belief that its hours of noise have been rewarded.

With the mindset that making noise ─ even if it must do so for hours ─ pays off, the foul behaviour just gets repeated.
I must change the topic ─ I am infuriating myself as the noise outside goes on and on and on....

The description beneath the following scanned image is from the Google album where I have the scan filed:

I clipped this old image probably sometime in the earliest 1970s ─ if not even the late 1960s ─ from some periodical it had appeared in. 
Unfortunately, I never cared to bother including any article or other details that accompanied the photo. 
It should be apparent that Robert Conrad and whomever the actress is were taking a break from filming an episode of the T.V. series The Wild Wild West.
I loved that old T.V. series. Robert Conrad's muscular physique was quite an inspiration to the teenager I was then. 

Oh, I nearly forgot! I wanted to mention that ─ as usual just before I start a post in this blog ─ I checked today's AdSense balance.

Not a cent has shown up today...nor yesterday...nor the day before that...nor even the day before that!

Over the past week, just 2¢ were generated, and I seem to recall that the sum appeared on the same day. So six of the past seven days have seen absolutely nothing appear in my AdSense account.

I cannot remember when AdSense has performed so badly for me.

But returning to the topic of noise, I have mentioned a number of times in my blog that I have some annoying tinnitus. Nevertheless, at least insofar as I know, my general hearing isn't noticeably impaired.

My poor mother Irene Dorosh loved music and dancing until her hearing began to decline. It got so that a radio or T.V. playing became almost unbearable for her, making it impossible for her to hear any conversation.

Even if she was not trying to have a conversation, for some reason those devices as background noise were almost painful for her ─ I could never understand why they were so bothersome for her when she couldn't hear at all well anyhow.

I still don't quite have that figured out.  

She used to mail-order for hearing devices, and give any a try that she might come across in person if she was out shopping somewhere. She even got a prescription pair of hearing aids that did help, but they had a feedback problem in that at times they would suddenly emit some sort of high-pitched, loud noise that was audible to anyone near her ─ let alone her, with the devices set into her ear canals.

I noticed just recently that the U.S. has a movement afoot to make efficient non-prescription hearing devices more accessible to the public who have pretty much heretofore been restricted to prescription hearing aids.

Here are some reports about it:




As I said, my mother already used to try various non-prescription hearing devices that she may have learned of that were reasonably priced, so I don't know if this movement in the States could have been of any benefit to her if something similar was to take off here in Canada.

Still, it has always been sad to me how during the final four years of her life as a widow, she essentially just sat at home alone in silence ─ the radio turned off, and the T.V. gotten rid of ─ because she just could not bear having the drowning noise assaulting her.

I can't imagine being alone and also in virtual silence like that.

It was always my intention once I had finally retired that I would move to Keremeos where she lived to be company for her in her final years. 

But she died all alone in mid-March 2006; and I never officially retired until early in April 2011.

This is one of the things that haunt me as I myself grow older, and so unhappy with my debt-ridden life here in the City of Surrey.

I spend far too much time indoors, but that is because there is nowhere I can walk for pleasure ─ I do not drive, so I only have the heavily populated streets that spread all around me. 

Reflection, contemplative or meditative thought ─ it's impossible out there.

Yet houses are so commonly found to be scenes of profound pollution. Practically everything in them is baneful to one degree or another because of the chemicals they release into a home's atmosphere.

And this is even without considering toiletries, cleansing products, and related products!

You have likely heard of black mould which can be very deadly, but a recent health hazard that has come to light are mycotoxins being released by moulds resident within wallpapers.

See these reports:




Nothing that is man-made in our modern age seems entirely free of anything harmful. Industry is slowly killing us all ─ or so I feel. We don't even have safe food anymore.

I am ready to close out today's post 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 in a private home located on Ninth Street, and about two houses up from Third Avenue.

At that time, I was something over a month into a three-month contract of full-time employment with a New Westminster charitable organization called S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends) that is today known as Fraserside Community Services Society.

I was employed as a swamper on S.A.N.E.'s blue pick-up truck, which was usually driven by a wonderfully genial gal in her early 40s named Esther St. Jean.

Prior to this contract, I had been associated with S.A.N.E. possibly as far back as 1974, but only on the very most part-time basis.
MONDAY, July 19, 1976

Up about 6:40 a.m.

I'm going to hit Woodward's for a large bag of flour this sunny morn. (My total bill was $5.06 ─ $3.89 going to 25 lbs of Ellwood's or Ellison's flour, the rest being cheese at half price; that norvegia stuff is tasty, and wasn't at fault for Saturday's unspiced pizza.) 

A lazy day; I bought 2 lbs. chicken livers at Safeway (59¢ lb.).

I've watched a little Rumanian, Nadia Comanici, I think, 14, win her third perfect 10 score in 2 days on gymnastics. There's lots of very lovely gals, and I'd sure love to hook up with such a one.

I planned to go on a lengthy walk after work, and when this proved too unattractive, I scheduled a run for the night. But after exhausting myself before reaching Moody Park, and with so many people about to make me constantly self-conscious, I came home.

I am in lousy cardio-vascular condition.

Bed at 10:35 p.m. 
I might not have had to start work until 9:00 a.m. or even 10:00 a.m., so I usually had time in the morning to do various chores. Back then, Woodward's department store was located on Sixth Avenue where today the Royal City Centre Mall is based.  

I was into experimenting with baking ─ including pizza dough and bread made from scratch with whole wheat flour and yeast. I had made a pizza on Saturday and faulted the norvegia cheese as having some responsibility for its lack of excellence, but I see now that I just must not have spiced up the pizza sufficiently.

So Nadia Comăneci gave that performance exactly 41 years ago, then? Wow!

I was far too public-shy back then to do any kind of exercising if anyone was sure to witness me, and that included doing laps ─ although Moody Park did not have a track.

Yet I sometimes ran for some miles on sidewalks if I was coming home from someplace distant. But I can see how that would be different. I was not putting on any kind of recurring performance like track running. Powering along a highway sidewalk where someone was only going to be seeing me in passing was not at all the same thing.

I miss being a runner. After tearing my left quadriceps tendon from my knee cap on November 1, 2010 ─ and having reattachment surgery on November 5 ─ I have ceased running.

I would need to try to build up my bad leg's familiarity with the mechanics involved, but I have nowhere to do that in privacy ─ it's that public self-consciousness inhibition again.

And so I have become virtually housebound.

I don't even go for long walks. I used to enjoy them at night sometimes, for I had no fear of thuggery. Should I have ever met with a group of ne'er-do-wells somewhere, I was always confident of being able to outrun the lot.

Since that is no longer possible, I have come to feel hamstrung, and do not like placing myself into any risk or vulnerability from which I would be able to remove myself should it become necessary.

I am slowly dying here in the Whalley area of Surrey.

Still the hound assaults me with its noise at 6:00 p.m. There is no justice or fair play. And this barren life I lead becomes less and less tenable under the conditions I try to endure.
Post a Comment