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Tuesday, May 1, 2018

Breast Cancer Surgery May Reduce the Immune System's Ability to Manage Other Cancer Cells in the Body for as Long as 1½ Years │ High Lead Levels in U.S. Drinking Water May Be Commonplace

Sundry Bilious Ruminations

After my wife Jack arrived home late last evening following her day of work at her friend Fanta's Thai restaurant in Langley, she remained up until around midnight.

Sometimes she is too tired Monday evenings to resist going to bed quite soon after getting home.

Normally I cap off the evening of T.V.-watching (via our Android TV Box) with my brother Mark by tuning in an episode of one of the comedies that we follow, but he was game to watch a second episode of the selection ─ the series Ghosted.

My wife Jack had not yet quite gone to bed, so I saw no harm in remaining up awhile longer.

I believe that it was 12:44 a.m. by the time I was in bed.

The first time I checked the time overnight, I don't think that it was yet 5:00 a.m., so I sought a little further sleep. The next time I checked, it was 6:03 a.m. ─ time to rise!

I never felt as horribly tired as I often do when Jack and I share the bed ─ last week, I twice had to resort to lying upon one of my stepsons' beds because I was so dreadfully overwrought by mid-morning from insufficient sleep, and there was nowhere else for me to seek that succour.

I had been tempted last evening to have a second can of strong (8% alcohol) beer, so perhaps it was propitious that I resisted ─ maybe it would have affected my sleep adversely.

Whatever the case, my eldest stepson Tho arose awhile after I had begun work on the edit of an old post at My Retirement Dream ─ one of my six hosted websites.

It was quite some while after he left for work before his younger brother Poté got up ─ and even so, he appeared in no rush to go anywhere, but he finally did.

But did he go to work? I was to discover his car still here ─ he had apparently been picked up by his girlfriend.

The morning started off as primarily cloudy.

After I had completed what constitutes a morning's minimum amount of content addition to the post I was editing, I decided that since I was not feeling too haggard, perhaps I should try and get my day's tool-shed exercises over with.

This exercise session takes me around 13 minutes in total. I neglected to check the time that I began exercising, but when I checked at my finish, it was 9:05 a.m.

And just as yesterday, I managed to achieve one extra repetition in the first of the four sets of pull-ups that lead off the exercising.

Once I had returned into the house, I found Mark already downstairs at the dining table, awaiting the boiling of some water for his first cup of instant coffee.

With my exercising finished, I felt my day to have been freed up, so I magnanimously took the initiative and turned on the T.V. to fetch the final of the three episodes of the British series Decline and Fall ─ Mark and I had enjoyed the previous two episodes rather well. In fact, we both agreed that it was a shame that it had not been developed into a full series. 

My wife Jack rose as we were watching the show. She had a quick shower, and soon was dressed and ready to head away for another day at the Langley Thai restaurant.

When the episode had completed, I knew of another British T.V. series that I was curious about, so I tuned in the first episode of The Durrells.

Based upon that first episode, the series has won over Mark and I. We shall stick with it.

I will have to let Mark know that ─ according to that Wikipedia article I linked to ─ the youngest member of the actual Durrell family was to write a few biographical books about his family's experiences after they moved to Corfu in 1935.

I also see that the actual eldest son was not under his mother's wing and thus part of the family move to Corfu ─ he was already living there and married. No doubt, it was he who influenced his mother to bring the other siblings and relocate to Corfu to join him there.

Anyway, upon completion of that episode, Mark announced that he wanted to get outside and commence work on the section of fence paralleling the start of the alleyway that runs from our cul-de-sac out to a main avenue. The alleyway is blocked off to vehicular traffic, but it is a primary shortcut for pedestrians wishing to access the avenue (and vice versa, of course).

He had begun work on the fence last Thursday, but our neighbour Arun was to bring a halt to Mark's labours that afternoon and got us drunk out there ─ it was most enjoyable, but Friday was abominable from the standpoint of the hangover I experienced.

So Mark resumed his repair ─ it must have been no later than 11:30 a.m. by the time he was outside. Since I had already had my tool-shed exercises, I opted to have my day's first meal much earlier than usual.

Around noon, I heard my youngest stepson Poté and his girlfriend come into the house ─ obviously, he was not at work after all. And bloody soon, the two were in bed ─ for just about the next three hours! 

This outrages me, but his mother allows it.

I sought my own nap after I finished eating, and was abed for about 50 minutes before checking the time and arising again. Mark was still outside working.

He did request my assistance in helping him move a section or panel of the fence, and to also bring him the green-lidded compost bin that will get emptied tomorrow when the truck that does so comes by on its weekly route.

Mark wanted to be rid of some of the dead knotweed and blackberry brambles that he had 'harvested' from the fence area where he was working.

I am unsure if Mark ever knew that sluggard Poté and his girlfriend were even here at home. After they emerged from Poté's bed, they took off around 3:10 p.m. Mark only ceased his efforts for the day shortly thereafter, returning into the house to change clothes.

And then he left for the afternoon to join his drinking crowd.

Well before then, the day had become sunny, and this may hold for several days. Had Mark not been so ambitious, forsaking his own nap and hanging about considerably longer into the afternoon than he normally would, I could have sat out in the backyard and got in some sunning.

But I am most thankful that I had the wisdom to do my exercising as early as I did. It would have been distinctly unpleasant to have to have tried to perform them this late into the day. 

I must keep this eventuality in mind for the morrow ─ especially if the day commences under clear skies. It is folly to delay exercising until the advent of an over-warm afternoon.

Incidentally, that short nap of mine may have been affected by a cellphone call from my wife Jack ─ I was wearing earplugs, but its possible I vaguely heard it and was roused.

After I had gotten up, I was texted by her with a request to put the large feed of pasta into the fridge that she had prepared last night. It was then that I noticed her missed call to me.

Some of her delicious ground-beef-based pasta will be the basis of my supper this evening, even if the carbohydrates are not ideal fare.

Further on the health-related front, I came across the following commentary on a very recently published study that has apparently found that women who have been scared into breast cancer surgery as a preventive measure may have unwittingly ensured that the (or another) cancer will strike back with great force:


Jack Harrison does love to engage in some hyperbole, so I dug up a few other reports about the study ─ decide for yourself whether there is truth to the possibility that being in a post-surgical recovery state just may be lowering the body's ability to resist unknown cancer cells:




I would suggest that Jack Harrison's advice to get a second and even a third medical opinion on the necessity of any breast cancer surgery is the better way to go than to just have it done and opt for a potentially harmful nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug (NSAID).

One other health-related report I read today was telling of the discovery that drinking water throughout the U.S. seems to have threatening levels of lead:


I doubt that the rest of the world set up their water distribution systems by using entirely different water-pipe materials than was used by America many years ago.

And such infrastructure is ageing everywhere ─ not just in the U.S.

But my afternoon is gone and my evening now arrived, so I want to post a few photos taken much earlier this year when my wife Jack and her two sons orchestrated a small family reunion with five of their Thailand relatives ─ but in Bali.

Due to military conscription complications, the two young men could not safely visit their homeland, and so Bali was the country nearest to Thailand where an airliner could fly without stopping over in Bangkok.

These photos were probably taken on January 27.

My wife Jack loves plants:

In this next photo, in the lead wearing the white top is my eldest stepson Tho. Behind him are his cousin Mark, and Mark's wife Kæ̂m or Gâaem:

Here are brothers Poté at the left, and his older brother Tho:

This is my wife Jack taking a selfie:

Jack's mother is in this next photo, along with Jack's sister Lumpoon ─ and ahead of them are the four cyclists: brothers Poté and Tho in the lead, and their cousin Mark and Mark's wife Kæ̂m or Gâaem just behind them:

In this photo, my wife Jack is standing between her sister Lumpoon (right) and Lumpoon's husband (I do not know his name):

A final photo of my youngest stepson, 20-year-old Poté:

And finishing off this sequence, my eldest stepson, 23-year-old Tho in the white top, and his older cousin Mark at the left:

To close today's post, I have another 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 the hideaway in a private home located on Ninth Street [Google map], and two houses up from Third Avenue.
SUNDAY, May 1, 1977

I got up c. 7:42 a.m. 

It appears to be largely cloudy today, so I remained inside, bedding down to nap well after 1:00 p.m. for 2¼ hours.

Bill called on me for a while, just after my supper was about ready. 

He went to the States last night with Jock, Larry, Duck & Lil.

He said he might get a roast and invite me over sometime.

[William Alan Gill was a dear old friend I had known since at least as far back as 1962, and maybe even earlier. Jock (John) Halverson was my cousin, and Larry Ernest Blue was his best friend and became one of mine. Duck (Don Fraser) was a longtime friend of the Halversons, and Lil was the mother of Donna, Jock's next-older brother Bruce's wife.]

The landlady got home just before 8:00 p.m., so I paid my rent.

I watched John Wayne's version of The Alamo.

Bed at 11:00 p.m.
That was an unusually withdrawn day. If not for my friend Bill's visit ─ and the need to pay my rent ─ I would not have spoken to nor even seen a soul.

But back to the present, my wife Jack will be home again late this evening to spend another night, so I hope that I manage to sleep at least as well as I did last night.
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