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Friday, January 12, 2018

The Proof Found That Extended Sitting ─ Without Exception ─ Damages the Heart

Something went most amiss with me overnight, and I wish I knew just what caused it.

I got to bed reasonably after 11:00 p.m., and sleep arrived in normal enough fashion.

Then came a point overnight when I felt myself so restless that I checked the time in the hope that it might be at least after 5:00 a.m. or even 6:00 a.m. ─ if so, I would just get up.

It was only 2:52 a.m.

I rose and used the bathroom, then returned to bed to try and fall asleep. But soon I remembered that I had intended to put into the fridge a couple of dishes remaining of my wife Jack's cooking that she had prepared around midday on Wednesday ─ the leftovers were still sitting in their respective pots on the stove.

My youngest stepson Poté had brought home two extra large pizzas last evening, so I never needed to touch Jack's leftovers.

I knew that leaving them out would be putting them under risk of fermentation, since both were very liquid-based.

So once more I rose, and went downstairs to put both pots into the fridge.

At this point it was apparent that sleep was not going to arrive for a long while, so I just rose and got busy with some work on the foundation of a new post I wanted to get set up at Thai-Iceland, one of my six hosted websites.

I busied myself with it until there came a point when I started hearing radio chatter, and I correctly presumed that my younger brother Mark's clock-radio had turned on to alert him to a new workday.

I have been saying that the clock-radio is set for anywhere from 4:10 a.m. to 4:20 a.m., but after hearing it for a minute or two, I thought to check the time ─ it was 4:04 a.m. by then.

So he must have it set for nigh on 4:00 a.m.

I knew that he always showers before emerging from his bedroom, so I finished up and was soon back in bed before he knew any different about me.

I still felt fairly keyed up, but I did my best to relax and try to get to sleep. It was my hope to get out this morning for some local grocery shopping, but that would not be happening if I was not properly rested.

Sleep came.

When next I became aware enough to think to check the time, I was most surprised to discover it to be 9:15 a.m. Oddly, I did not feel like getting up, but I soon did ─ I had to.

I was not going to postpone getting the foundation of that Thai-Iceland post finished, so I got back to work on it.

When that chore was done, I did not expect to discover that it was at least 11:15 a.m.

I made an effort to groom myself for the shopping outing, for the day was nicely overcast with very light rain. But I just didn't have it in me to ready and go.

My eyes are extremely poor today ─ my vision especially bad. I did not feel at all rested, either.

Concerning my eyes, the past two evenings I have had to wear protective orange-tinted glasses while watching T.V. because of a threatened onset of a migraine or seizure halo or aura. I first experienced such a debilitating symptom about a dozen or a little more years ago while at work at the Fisheries and Oceans Canada (DFO) in its Human Resources branch in Vancouver.

But in recent years, the auras have become unpleasantly frequent. I can ease my way out of them before they become full-blown, but it requires eye-rest. The safety-wear glasses I mentioned block eye-damaging blue light, so they very much help.

The only other solution is probably to vastly reduce computer use, but spending the hours a day on my computer is my sole hope of stumbling into a second income to augment my inadequate retirement pension.

I've been trying since before 2010, but it has been mainly futile. Heck, this blog was begun in September 2008 as an early try at deriving an income from AdSense.

What a bloody flop I have been at it, though.

Anyway, after discarding all hope of getting out to shop, I fixed up my day's second hot beverage and then tuned in an episode of Steve Austin's Broken Skull Challenge to boost my morale and get me out to the backyard tool shed for some exercising.

The gambit succeeded very nicely, for the episode featured women, and witnessing these admirable ladies engaged in such physical feats as are required on the show very much energizes and inspires me.

Nevertheless, all day it feels like I am about to suffer an eyestrain headache, and that ongoing nag brings a toll onto my mood. 

It is also disconcerting to read about how dangerous it is to be sitting for long periods of time everyday.

Have you ever heard of troponins? I couldn't remember anything about them.

Well, they are a complex of proteins that can commonly be found in our bloodstream. But when the levels begin to climb, it is a sign of muscle death ─ and specifically dying heart muscle cells.

It has been discovered that just sitting for nine or more hours each and every day results in an increase of these proteins in our bloodstream ─ a sure indication that heart damage is occurring.

Whether or not a person is an avid exerciser is not very material. What is important is whether or not the heart is being subjected to that much seated indolence.

Here are a few reports on the study that found this out:

JacksDailydose.com

NYtimes.com

BusinessInsider.com

I am 68 years old ─ I can not lightly be causing myself this sort of damage, but I have no other choice. Apparently I am not destined to win a major lottery jackpot; and my vision is far too poor to withstand the workforce anymore.

It seems more and more like I ought not to bother having that 70th birthday.

Changing the topic entirely, I want to post this scan of an old photo ─ the description beneath it is from the Google Plus album where I have the scan filed:

My mother Irene's husband, Alex Dorosh.

I do not know the young lady with him, but I suspect that it may be his daughter.

As you can see, the roll of film that this photo was part of was developed in August 1968.

Judging by the silhouette of the photographer, I believe it possible that my mother took the photo.

My mother and Alex had not yet married in 1968 ─ that did not occur until around 1973 or 1974, I think.

I was just 18 years old in the Summer of 1968 ─ this lass looks like she might have a little time on me.
It is now 4:56 p.m., and my wife Jack has arrived home from wherever she stays in Vancouver.

She will be leaving on a Sunday evening flight back to Thailand for an extended visit to see her mother, and is not due to leave there to return here to Canada until March 5.

Since I am going to have little further time to work on this blog post, I shall end it now with this old journal entry of mine from 41 years ago when I was 27 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster

I was renting in a private home located on Ninth Street, and no more than two houses up from Third Avenue.

The previous day's journal entry said that I was leaving my room just after 11:35 a.m. in a slight flurry of tiny flakes of snow to hike out to the duplex unit of my younger brother Mark, who I think was living just a short distance down Semiahmoo Road from where it adjoins Old Yale Road in Surrey.

Since I wrote no more that day, I clearly did not return to my room.

Mark would have been working at the mill that employed him, but I had access to his duplex unit.
WEDNESDAY, January 12, 1977

It snowed thickly throughout my walk yesterday.

I couldn't locate any suitably loose headwear (I hailed Joe Gerard in Fields), so I avoided Safeway going to Mark's; I bought a pair of rust-coloured pants (Dales) at Army & Navy listed for $3.99.

At Mark's I ate heavily: a great deal of granola, plus a pint of ice-cream later on and peanuts courtesy of Mark (I plan to seriously diet from Saturday).

*****

[I probably spent the night at Mark's duplex unit and came back into New Westminster with him early in the morning when he passed through it on his drive to work.]

We've got a fair blanket of snow now.

The Western Express Lottery is on tonight; will my 20 $1 tickets prove merely to be another contribution?

About 9:52 a.m. I culminated in manual sexual release through Penthouse (June); I need a woman!

I am using the toque mom knitted a few years ago; Mark dug it up last night, but I'll still look for something better. I wanted to go to Woodward's, but I never got beyond my laundry.

When I leave for mom's I'll mail a $29 tithe, and stop off at City Hall for an accident report form Mark requested; my final stop will be at Scott-town for stamps.
My klutzy old friend William Alan Gill had borrowed a much-loved toque I had owned, only to lose it that same day ─ the Saturday just past when we were in a hotel beer parlour drinking beer.

Now I was trying to find a suitable replacement, but nothing was coming even close to matching it.

I think Joe Gerard may have been a very large young Indigenous lad I had worked with in New Westminster at a charitable organization called S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends).

I had shopped at Fields and Army & Navy the prior day on Columbia Street in New Westminster before heading off out to Surrey to my brother Mark's duplex unit.

Now back in New Westminster, I had gone to the laundromat up on Sixth Avenue near the public library and done my laundry, but for some reason I never visited nearby Woodward's department store ─ it used to occupy the entire area now known as the Royal City Centre Mall.

With that chore done, I was next going to hike out to the Surrey home my mother Irene Dorosh shared with her husband Alex ─ Alex is actually standing at the rear of that little domicile in the photo I displayed above.

The little house no longer exists, but it was my main mailing address ─ 12106 - 90th Avenue. I always walked there ─ at a fast pace, it took about 1½ hours.

Mark had discovered a good-sized dent in his truck door on the past weekend, but had no idea who committed the damage. Evidently the New Westminster city hall police station had some manner of form Mark wanted me to get so that he could file a report. 

The postage stamps I planned on buying would have been bought in the pharmacy at Scott Town shopping plaza (96th Avenue & Scott Road), most of the distance to my mother's home.

Alright, back to the present!

Jack was to leave again just barely past 6:00 p.m., and said that she would returm tomorrow. She had cooked up some supper for us, and took away the large item of luggage that she'll be having stowed away on her flight.

That piece of luggage is amazingly heavy!
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