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Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Sunshine and Vitamin D Production

Although I was expecting my wife Jack home late last evening, I was in bed at 12:25 a.m. and she had still not shown up. I was entertaining the possibility that she had chosen not to come home to spend a night here with me, but instead had driven directly back to Vancouver where she generally stays.

But if she was going to have to work a second consecutive day in Langley, then making the return drive the next day from Vancouver would be almost punishing compared to just spending the night here in our Whalley-area home. 

Could she wish to be spared having to endure my presence so very much?

As a safeguard that she might yet arrive home, I retired with both earplugs and blindfold. Perhaps if I did manage to fall asleep and she was yet to get home, then I might potentially be able to avoid being disturbed.

But soon after I was doing my best to relax into sleep, I was certain that I could hear a female voice elsewhere in the house. My youngest stepson Poté had come home earlier that evening with his girlfriend ─ it was the first time that she had been here since Friday morning.

Or at least, insofar as I knew of. In fact, when they had come through the front door last evening and passed by the far end of the living room as my younger brother Mark and I watched an episode of Knightfall (we were to actually watch the final two episodes of its first and thus far only season), I had just assumed that it was my wife Jack.

And so when a female voice extended a quick greeting to Mark and I as she passed out of view, in reflexive action I responded with a soft "Hi" of my own without looking in her direction.

Then I realized that a second person was passing through the far end of the living room after having come in from the front door, and I glanced in that direction to see that it was Poté.

Thus, for the first time that I can remember since the girlfriend has been coming here for maybe at least the past six months, I have finally exchanged a word with her ─ and in the most literal sense.

Anyway, as I lay in bed wondering about the female voice I supposed I was possibly hearing despite my earplugs, I started wondering if Poté and the girlfriend were up to hi-jinks and were daring to take a shower together ─ the bathroom is immediate to my bedroom and shares a common wall.

This thought was sufficiently outrageous to me that I removed my earplugs to better hear.

However, there was no further conversation, but someone was definitely in the bathroom. Nevertheless, satisfied that it was not both Poté and the girlfriend, I reinserted my earplugs, now deeming that it was likely Jack's voice I had heard.

And it was. She was readying herself for bed.

When she finally did come to bed and turn off the lamplight on her side of the bed, I glanced at the time ─ it was 1:14 a.m., and I was nowhere nearer to falling asleep.

I have no idea when it was that sleep did arrive, but it only remained with me for relatively short snatches of time throughout the night.   

And when at last I believed that there seemed to be the glow of daybreak pervading the darkened bedroom, I lifted my blindfold and saw that it was so.

Perhaps I am now misremembering, but it may have been as late as 5:58 a.m. ─ whatever the case, it was time enough for me to rise and get my computer fired up so that I could soon be at work on the edit of an old post at my Siam-Longings website, an edit that I have been dealing with for several days now.

As I wrote here yesterday, that morning had been the second consecutive in which my computer has frozen during the loading process, and required at least five attempts to finally function without trouble.

It seemed to me to often happen when the cursor would become 'stuck' on the desktop or some touchy portion of an opened webpage.

So hoping to avoid a lengthy recurrence of a number of restarts yet again, I decided to spend some time more valuably and just be patient.

To that end, after signing into my computer, I disconnected the mouse so that there would be no cursor, and then I went downstairs and lay upon the chesterfield for some while.

Then I even set about fixing up my morning's first hot beverage to take back upstairs with me.

By then, the machine was silent ─ it had fully loaded and was passively awaiting my engagement. I reattached the mouse and found the cursor to be fully responsive, and no problems were to thereafter be presented.

This shall henceforth be my startup process for however much longer my computer retains life.

My eldest stepson Tho ─ whom I have noticed over the past few days has been suffering with a cold's cough ─ was to rise and soon enough and head away to work. His younger brother was not to rise for awhile yet, and even then seemed in no hurry to leave home.

I wanted to get my day's 13-minute (or thereabouts) session of exercising finished with out in the backyard tool-shed before Mark was up, so I waited out Poté ─ I would go out to the tool-shed either after he left for work, or when I realized that Mark was getting up for the day.

The former scenario was to play out.

I find myself somewhat crippled today as a result of a set of 111 of my version of Hindu squats that I performed yesterday afternoon.

This is the second that time this has happened in the past couple or so weeks. Certainly, I am not performing these squats with any regularity whatsoever; but they are an exercise that I do sometimes add to a day when I feel motivated enough.

And that has been so for over a decade.

So why this crippling after-effect now?

Specifically, the rear of my right hip almost feels partially dislocated. It is hard to stand fully erect, or to bend or squat down for whatever reason. It is even bothersome to walk, and I find myself doing so slowly and gingerly.

I am trying to hide evidence of my suffering from anyone else in the household, but it can be difficult to do so.

Perhaps needless to say, my session of exercising out in the backyard tool-shed had its moments.

Mark may not have risen until after 9:00 a.m. And we were early into two episodes of The Durrells when my wife Jack emerged from our bedroom around 10:00 a.m.

She showered and rather quickly readied herself for her second day this week at her friend Fanta's Thai restaurant in Langley, and then left with just the statement to Mark and I, "Okay, I'm going now."

Apart from my physical pain preventing me from arising to see her off, she has come to display displeasure at this gesture, so I find myself refraining from it.

I am not insensitive that my wife and former best friend no longer respects nor probably even loves me.

But God seems uncaring that this is ever to change; and so I am left alone to bear the several sexual dysfunctions that haunt me, as well as the smothering debt that mandates that my wife continue working in my retirement years because I am too financially limited to even honour that other role as "the man of the house."

It all seems to point to bringing myself to a close within the next few years if at least the latter condition does not change. After all, if I had the financial wherewithal, then perhaps I could and would seek professional attention to the physical problems that I have no intention of delineating here at this time.

But back to my day.

After Mark and I had watched the two episodes of The Durrells, he sought a nap. I wanted to spend some time in the Sun, but I also needed a nap.

I have been getting quite a lot of time exposing my front to the Sun, but I have yet to expose my back. I decided to do that today.

I ended up lying on my front upon the backyard sundeck for just over 40 minutes. Most of that time was beneath some light cloud cover. The session began at 12:01 p.m.

I was left feeling incomplete ─ I had failed to get the grounding or earthing that attends sitting out on the lawn in a deck- or lawn-chair, while clad only in cutoffs.

Next time, I will lay out on the lawn. I usually lie upon a padded cargo cover, so I can always extend my feet and hands onto the grass to derive the necessary grounding effect that is documented to serve as a very good antioxidant, neutralizing harmful free radicals that accumulate within the body.

I had dozed off a couple of times while lying on the sundeck.

Once I was back into the house, I set about preparing myself a meal. And then while I ate it while seated here at my computer, Mark was soon enough to head away for the afternoon awhile after getting a call from what must have been one of his regular drinking buddies.

I still needed a proper nap ─ especially after eating. And so shortly after 2:00 p.m., I opted to lie down upon the chesterfield in the living room. I covered up with a heavy blanket, and was wearing only the cutoffs. I also donned earplugs and blindfold after turning off the stereo.

I successfully sank into some degree of napping, for it was 3:30 p.m. when I next checked the time.

And that basically catches me up for the day, for it is 5:31 p.m. as I type this statement.

I wish that I could remember the claim I read many years ago concerning the body's ability to produce vitamin D ─ the claim was some estimate of how many international units (I.U.s) could be produced on just a postage-sized patch of skin after something like 20 minutes of sunlight exposure.

All I can recall was that it was a surprisingly large volume.

Some simple research just now pulls up this claim:
If you're fair skinned, experts say going outside for 10 minutes in the midday sun—in shorts and a tank top with no sunscreen—will give you enough radiation to produce about 10,000 international units of the vitamin.
That was taken from a June 23, 2008 article at Health.USnews.com titled Time in the Sun: How Much Is Needed for Vitamin D?

Yet earlier today I read the following recent article:


If you refer to it, Dr. Marc S. Micozzi claims to have gotten the following estimate from one of the professional engineers he happens to know:
...When the sun is 50 degrees above the horizon, your exposed skin can make 1,000 IU of vitamin D in just 22 minutes. (Note: 45 degrees is half-way above the horizon, and 90 degrees is directly overhead.) And when the sun is higher, at 67 degrees, it only takes exposed skin 12 minutes to produce 1,000 IU of vitamin D.
It beats me why an engineer would be a primary resource for any discussion about vitamin D synthesis in the body.

But even if the statement if absolutely correct, it is appallingly unhelpful.

At first I was delighted with that explanation...until I thought about my own case today.

What the doctor failed to explain ─ and this is utterly crucial ─ is just how much skin is being exposed in this calculation?

Is the test subject entirely naked, and thus the entire body is producing the vitamin D? Or are we talking of someone wearing shorts and a tee-shirt?

Or is this just the amount of exposure to the postage-sized patch of skin I remembered something about so many decades ago?

His explanation of vitamin D production is so ridiculously vague that it is completely useless without defining precisely how much exposed skin we are speaking of.

Drat! My evening is practically here. I must fast work at bringing this post to a close.

First, though, a few more photos from the marriage of my wife Jack's niece ─ these photos may have been taken in the city of Udon Thani. The date was February 25 earlier this year.

All of the photos feature the bride and groom. (Note: the bride is the daughter of Lumpoon, one of Jack's two sisters.):

Google created this .gif animation of those last five images:

Here to close today's post is an old journal entry of mine from 41 years ago when I was living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting the extremely modest affair in a private home located on Ninth Street [Google map], and two houses up from Third Avenue.

I see that I had plans to hike out to the Surrey duplex unit that my younger brother Mark was renting on Semiahmoo Road [Google map], not too very far from where it attaches to Old Yale Road.

This day was Mother's Day here in Canada; and two days earlier, it had been our mother Irene Dorosh's birthday. Apparently Mark and I were going to pay her a visit ─ she and her husband Alex lived less than three miles from Mark.
SUNDAY, May 8, 1977

I awoke c. 1:30 a.m.; unable to sleep, I arose and read & wrote. I shall retire again just before 3:00 a.m.


I got up at 7:45 a.m. to find the sky smothered with cloud.

I don't feel too distressed today about my image.


In various locations, I found 3 pennies.

Mark was in bed when I arrived at his place, leaving here just past 10:00 a.m.

I lolled about for 2 hours before leaving him a note and going to mom's.

No one was there, just a note saying she'd be back about 4:00 p.m. It was starting to get sunny.

Mark brought the lovely card and the Salton ice-cream machine shortly past 3:00 p.m. (I tried unsuccessfully to phone him c. 2:30 p.m.).

He didn't feel like waiting around, so we left the present and returned back to his place.

He gave me 2 bottles of beer and, since he never did buy mom anything (he'd wrapped the ice cream machine), $15 which bought into the gift.

About 4:20 p.m. I went with him to the Bear Creek Park area to exercise Daboda.

[Daboda was Mark's magnificent German shepherd.]

When we got back, he was itching to go to the States, but I prevailed otherwise ─ though I just about succumbed.

We watched TV together till I left at 11:00 p.m.

Bed 12:40 a.m.
Obviously I walked back to my room in New Westminster late that evening.

There were no alcohol sales hereabouts on Sundays back then, so Mark wanted to probably just cross over into Washington State's Blaine where we would be able to drink beer.

By the way, that reference in my journal entry about not being too distressed about my image referenced the fact that I was generally so self-conscious that I did not like going outside in the daytime.

I still have my struggles with depression and anxiety.
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