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Monday, July 10, 2017

Vitamin K2 and Artery Health │ Modern Ulcer-Treatment Protocol in Dealing with H. Pylori

I half-expected that my wife Jack might show up last evening from Vancouver, and she did. It was perhaps around 9:00 p.m. to 9:30 p.m., so my younger brother Mark was still up ─ albeit passed out in his chair in the living room.

Unconsciousness seems to be an acceptable state for enjoying television ─ to him, anyway.

He probably called it an evening and went on upstairs to his bedroom around 10:40 p.m.

I might have gone to bed earlier than I did, but Jack was spending far too much time inhabiting our bedroom. When eventually I noticed ─ after two or three earlier checks ─ that the bedroom light was off, I soon hied myself on upstairs for bed, too.

I had been getting immersed into a 1986 non-English foreign movie on the Turner Classic Movies (TCM) station ─ Shadows in Paradise. It was tough to abandon it, for I must have been at least halfway through it.

I never knew what language was being spoken, and have only now found out by referring to the Wikipedia article I linked to.

I wonder how it turned out for the young couple? (They are young to me, since I am 67.)

It was 11:51 p.m. once I was in bed, but it took some while to fall asleep.

I suppose that I fared tolerably well thereafter, and in the early morning I heard Jack's eldest son Tho rap on the bedroom door to get his mother up to drive his lazy ass to the SkyTrain.

He works in Burnaby. We live about a mile or so from two of the Whalley stations. I always got myself to the SkyTrain when I had to work, but of course I wasn't a pampered 22-year-old Thai 'muscleman' who can't walk a mile.

When she exited the bedroom, I checked the time ─ it was 6:00 a.m. Had Tho not disturbed us, I would have derived further sleep; but since I was now awake, I decided to also get up.

I could see Jack downstairs curled up on the chesterfield, while Tho still fussed about getting himself ready to leave for work.

I waited until they left before I went downstairs to prepare my day's first hot beverage. Jack's youngest son Poté was still in bed, but I could hear his phone's alarm sounding.

Jack returned and went back to bed while I was working on supplying content to the post I have underway at my hosted website Thai-Iceland, yet Poté had still not responded to his phone's alarm ─ he was still up when I went to bed last night.

The 19-year-old finally rose and probably staggered his sleepy way out to his car towards 7:00 a.m.

I was to get all of the work accomplished on the post that I had hoped to get done today long before Jack eventually got up around 11:40 a.m. I had even taken a break midway through that work to go out to the backyard tool shed to exercise ─ I had missed out yesterday.

Right now it is 1:48 p.m., and I been working on this post due to Jack's absence ─ she left near the end of the noon-hour to go to Henlong Market. But before she did go ─ since I was seated out in the backyard enjoying the sunshine ─ she had me take some photos of her on her iPhone 6.

So I took four of my own on my iPhone 5:

I never said anything to her yet, but before I had gone out to the shed just after 8:30 a.m. this morning to exercise, I had a most disgusting duty.

The small compost pail that we keep in the kitchen area ─ a small green pail that had been closed tightly until I lifted the lid to add something to the top of the load within ─ must have been infested with maggots.

As I was passing through that area to go out into the backyard, I noticed some of the revolting creatures spread about over the floor, wallowing around with legless efficiency as they do.

They had wriggled free from out of the small green pail, squirming past the loose lid that I had not bothered to secure tightly. Why would I? I didn't realize it contained anything but kitchen refuse.

In all, I reckon that I must have collected up a minimum of 20 of the buggers after I first emptied the pail into the big compost bin out in the carport.

I am sure that Jack will be busy mopping the floor with disinfectant once she learns of this. I just didn't want to burden her immediately after she had gotten up.

Shall we change topics?

I have never taken a vitamin K supplement ─ I have never seen any in the stores that I frequent to maintain my stock of nutritional supplements.

I'm hoping that the naturally fermented vegetables that I have taken to preparing over the past two or more months are making that vitamin more bioavailable.

A recent study involving kidney patients undergoing dialysis has yielded results suggesting remarkable improvement in those patients' cardiovascular health when the vitamin has been administered supplementally.

I never realized that people with kidney disease were at risk for cardiovascular problems, but I never pondered the relationship before.

These four reports tell of the study ─ the first one will probably be the easiest for laymen to fully understand, but I am including the other three because that first one is composed by a chap who delights in bombast and hyperbole:





So clearly the dialysis patients are in a bad way, but mightn't the vitamin K supplementation also be enormously beneficial to those of us who are not diagnosed with kidney disease?

It certainly stands to my reasoning, at any rate.

My father Hector often complained of having one or more ulcers.

It seems to me that he was still alive (he died of a heart attack quite early in 1983) when I first learned that the bacteria Helicobacter pylori seemed to be behind the development of stomach ulcers, yet that Wikipedia article I linked to claims that this specific bacterium was not even identified until 1982.

Could I be that wrong?

But whatever the case, ulcers are still a commonplace in our populations, and people are still relying upon the false remedy hopes that were the useless mainstream in my father's day.

Even physicians are too often uneducated on how best to deal with ulcers:



I would almost swear that I remember talking with my father about the benefits of natural ulcer-healing remedies such as cabbage juice!

Okay, I am going to hustle now and try to finish today's post especially early. So here to close out with is 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.

The private home I was renting in was located on Ninth Street, and about two houses up from Third Avenue.

I had not gotten to bed until 5:20 a.m., even though I had not been partying.

On my agenda that day was a 1½-hour hike out to the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey to visit my mother Irene Dorosh and to check for any mail ─ her home was my main mailing address.

That  little house she shared with her husband Alex is now gone, but its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue.
SATURDAY, July 10, 1976
Up at 11:00 a.m., but feeling as needful of sleep as when I checked the clock at 9:30 a.m.

Last night's forecast was for clouds and showers, but it's sunny!

Or so it seemed; by 1:00 p.m. the sky should be a cloud cover. I am leaving for mom's soon after that hour.

Bill's car was gone.

I miscast the weather for today, as it was mostly sunny.

Both mom & Alex were home.

The letter she said Friday I had was an ad from Parker Publishing for the book The Doctor's Quick Inches-Off Diet.

I had a rather nutritious supper there, during which Phyllis came; she was still there when I left at 5:00 p.m. Next Sat. she & mom will leave for Ontario.

Bill apparently phoned this morning about her won trip to San Francisco; he'd heard her travel agency she has used for Reno trips was in financial trouble.

His car was home when I passed homeward; my walk both ways was distinctly bearable for once.

On Friday close to S.A.N.E. in an auto repair I am sure I heard a call to the phone for a Mike Longshaw as I came by.

Note: after arriving at mom's and doffing my boots, I weighed in at 186, to my pleasure. Mom gave me the pants I Tuesday asked her to shorten the legs of.

After supper at home I went over to Bill's hoping for some TV. He & his mother were home, but going to a show.

So, I ended up being treated at the New Westminster Drive-In to Night Caller and Stranger and the Gunfighter. The former was the most likely. Thereafter we took his mother home.

My bedtime is 2:25 a.m.
My old friend William Alan Gill was renting a bachelor suite that was maybe about four blocks from my room.

It was my older maternal half-sister Phyllis who stopped in for a visit at our mother's home while I was there. Ontario was our mother's birthplace, and most of her immediate family still lived there.

Concerning those long walks to visit my mother, and then to get back to my room afterward, they could often be dreadfully tedious. I had been doing them for too long, and it had become crushingly mundane.

Michael Longshaw had been one of my best friends in late elementary school and through secondary, but once I dropped out of Grade Ⅻ, it was as if I had become a social pariah. I never heard from him again.

Of course, that works both ways, doesn't it? I don't recall putting an effort into friendship continuance.

I think that I had learned that he might be employed with his father at a car repair shop in New Westminster that may have been located on Carnarvon Street, very near to where the New Westminster SkyTrain Station is today ─ except somewhat farther away from Eighth Street as seen on this map.

Bill's mother Anne Gregory was renting her own suite off in Maillardville, but she still did just about everything for Bill, and was always at his apartment.

And yes, even though he was at least 29 years old, they would go to the drive-in theatre together. (Of course, I went on this particular evening, too!)

The New Westminster Drive-In Theatre was located around the vicinity of where the Scott Road Skyway Station is today. I always considered anything on the Surrey side of the Fraser River to be Surrey, but I suppose that may not have historically been so. 
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