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Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Avodart ─ Enlarged Prostate (and Pattern Hair Loss) Medication Warning │ New Successful Sepsis Treatment Still Being Resisted

Well, last evening was another where I was treated to a period of my younger brother Mark's unconsciousness and attendant hacking and gargling.

He wasn't to go on up to his bedroom for the night until at least maybe 10:45 p.m. And so my own bedtime was delayed ─ it maybe have been something like 11:07 p.m. by the time I was under the covers for the night.

My youngest stepson Poté was not yet home from wherever it was that he had gone.

I actually felt that I slept fairly well, and I rose for the day at 6:20 a.m. To my considerable annoyance, the evidence presented itself (i.e., there was no lingering odour of cologne in the upstairs bathroom) that my eldest stepson Tho had not gone to work ─ the second consecutive day the lump has remained home, denying me yet another day here to myself.

Poté was in bed, but he soon enough rose and headed on out the front door to his car at 7:17 a.m., if I am remembering the time correctly.

I put further work into the post I have 'on the go' at my hosted website Thai-Iceland, but I knocked off shortly after 8:30 a.m. to ready myself for the grocery shopping I wanted to do over at the local No Frills market at Cedar Hills shopping centre (96th Avenue & 128th Street), roughly four blocks away from here where I live in Surrey.

I believe that it was within 10 minutes after 9:00 a.m. when I set off on that short hike. And it proved to be unremarkable.

Once I was back home, I was determined to complete the Thai-Iceland post work that I had allotted myself for this morning, so I stuck with it even though it broke through into the start of the noon-hour.

Tho had been up about two hours by then ─ I first heard him fussing about in the kitchen at 10:14 a.m.

I wanted to do some sunning, but I did not want to entirely forsake all exercising. And so I ventured out to the backyard tool shed finding the atmosphere therein unexpectedly pleasant ─ it had not yet heated up with the advance of the day.

I could have had a full session, but I was eager to get into the sunning; and so I settled upon about ⅗ of what currently constitutes my routine out there.

My sunning commenced at 12:25 p.m., and lasted through to 1:35 p.m. And that freed me up to have my first meal of the day.

I sure do wish that I knew exactly why Tho has been home these two days. My natural inclination is to assume the worst and identify that he's just too damned lazy to get up early in the morning and get to the SkyTrain so that he can then commute out to his job in Burnaby.

On Monday morning he roused his mother from bed early in the morning to drive him to the SkyTrain, for she had spent Sunday night here at home instead of in Vancouver where she spends most of her time.

And last week, I think he was getting rides with a co-worker. So maybe if he had no ride yesterday and today, the lout just called in sick to spare himself any discomfort.

I need to change the topic ─ this riles me sorely.

I want to post an old photo that could have been taken anytime from 1974 to 1976 ─ it is from an album belonging to my brother Mark that his girlfriend (Catherine Jeanette Gunther) back in those years had compiled:

For the life of me, I am unable to recall if I ever knew who this was or not! I could of course ask Mark, but I never see him sober during the workweek ─ and I would prefer not engaging his drunken persona with this sort of conversation.

So let's switch topics yet again.

I am 67, so for all I know, I may well have some prostate disorder that just hasn't been identified as yet.

A lot of men have foolishly had themselves tested, learned of a genuine or misdiagnosed cancer, and undergone cancer treatments ─ whether or not they submitted to surgery.

One non-cancerous condition the prostate can be subject to is enlargement ─ benign prostatic hyperplasia (BPH).

Naturally, there are medications for that.

One long-standing prescription has been for a drug called dutasteride, and which is marketed under the brand name Avodart.

Well, it has suddenly been getting some bad press ─ the following two reports tell of the latest critical research (I noticed that both reports misspell dutasteride, unless they just happen to be using some alternate variation on the spelling):



The website Drugs.com gives quite a long list of concerns: Avodart Side Effects.

Anyone who is studious enough might notice that one potential side effect being reported is high-grade prostate cancer ─ can you imagine that? 

Drugs.com ─ in referring to the dutasteride oral capsule ─ identified that side effect as follows:
Common (1% to 10%): High-grade prostate cancer
Now I am guessing, but it seems to me that this must mean that ─ according to whatever reports Drugs.com knows about ─ anywhere from one to as many as 10 men out of every 100 who take this enlarged prostate medication will develop high-grade prostate cancer.

And remember ─ the drug is also used to treat pattern hair loss.

Well...thanks, doc, but I think if I ever find out that I have an enlarged prostate, I'll be looking at some other sort of treatment that doesn't involve mainstream medications. 

Another health topic I will refer you to concerns sepsis ─ I actually included information about this new and unusually successful treatment for the deadly condition in one of my posts a month or two ago.

You ought to know about this treatment if you do not already, for there is still a lot of mainstream resistance to employing it even though the prevalent methodology is much less successful in saving lives.

So why go with the conventional treatment when the new one is harmless and has a superior success rate?

Read about it in these reports:





If you or a loved one ever develop sepsis, let's pray that your hospital is progressive enough to know about the so-called 'cocktail'! 

One final article I want to comment upon relates to a story I only read about today ─ a young woman in another part of Surrey where I am living has had her lower leg amputated because of what all news articles are claiming is believed to be a brown recluse spider

You can read the article I read ─ it is online at SurreyNowLeader.com: Mother raising cash to help her Surrey daughter after lower leg amputated following spider bite.

I had never before heard of brown recluse spiders existing in Surrey ─ and if a March 9, 2013, article at a blog-style website called Biodiversity of British Columbia is correct, they definitely do not exist here nor anywhere else in Canada: Ask An Expert: Brown Recluse Spiders in BC

'Tis time now for me to bring today's post to a close with a journal entry of mine 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.

I believe that I was at this point more than 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 working as a truck swamper on their blue pick-up truck, which was usually driven by Esther St. Jean, a delightful woman in her early 40s.

I had worked on an infrequent part-time basis with S.A.N.E. previously, all the way back into 1974, if I have the dating correct.

The old location of S.A.N.E. no longer exists, but it was housed in an old building that then existed where today's New Westminster SkyTrain Station now spreads out onto Carnarvon Street.

The prior night, I had not gotten to bed until about 1:10 a.m. following an extremely late-evening hike of nearly three hours' duration.
MONDAY, July 12, 1976

Up and tired at 7:05 a.m.

Cloud dominated the weather.

This morning Esther gave Bill Sevenko and I a doughnut.

Gilles selected today to show up.

After lunch I became extremely sleepy, reinforcing my dread of being stuck on a job.

I'm leaving for mom's at 6:20 p.m.

Before I reached the tracks a red Toyota pick-up honked as it passed me, and when I looked back the occupant waved; it seemed to be a blonde. Georgina?

Mom & Alex were outside with Sherry when I arrived; Sherry wasn't there long.

I had a large snack: a good deal of potato salad, and a great quantity of cherries; mom & Alex yesterday picked them at the home of friends, and mom has more than she cares to be bothered with. She gave me a bag of them to take home.

For mail I had a $15 tithe receipt, a letter with a $1 refund cheque from the F.&S.F. Book Co. Inc. (Bradley's World Wreckers is out of print), and the information I wrote for from Los Angeles' International Yogurt Company (they have a rather expensive 4 qt. yogurt maker of interest to me, besides various cultures).

As usual, I left for home at 9:30 p.m.

Bed at 11:35 p.m.
Bill Sevenko must have been my co-swamper that day ─ there seemed to be a wide rotation of them. He was an older man I quite liked. (I expect that he was the same William Sevenko who died in New Westminster in 1988 at the age of 66.)

"Gilles" was a very talkative young French Canadian lad who had sometimes worked as a swamper. I think he was doing his best to cement a friendship with me, but I never saw us as having much in common. Besides, he was hard to win free of anytime I bumped into him outside of work. I always had things I wanted to be doing with my time ─ not donating it to someone who was too bored to figure out how to occupy his own time.

After my day at work, it was time early in the evening to do the 1½-hour hike out to the home of my mother Irene Dorosh, who was living in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey with her husband Alex.

Their home no longer exists, but its address used to be 12106 - 90th Avenue. It was my main mailing address. 

The "Georgina" I speculated who may have been in the vehicle that had honked at me as I trudged lower Scott Road (120th Street as seen on this map) upon leaving the Pattullo Bridge would have been another former S.A.N.E. part-time employee ─ she was a beauty! 

Once I got to the railway tracks that you may be able to make out well before Lien Road, I would turn onto them and follow them until they again met up with Scott Road, saving me a whole lot of unpleasant street trekking.

Sherry is the daughter of my older maternal half-sister Phyllis ─ she was often at my mother's house.

If I had left my room at 6:20 p.m., then I would have arrived at my mother's home around 7:50 p.m. And then after visiting until 9:30 p.m., I made the 1½-hour hike back to my room in New Westminster ─ it would have been around 11:00 p.m. by that time.

I have no doubt that I experienced little trouble getting to sleep that night.

I have just received a text from my wife Jack ─ she will be home tomorrow evening and will likely return to Vancouver on Friday. 
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