My husband has a good friend living in Boston. As far as I know, he run in quite a few of the Boston Marathons previously. When I heard about one of the three dead was an eight year old boy, my heart did not rest until his name was announced and a photo was flashed. My husband's friend has an only son around that age. It was not that boy as I feared.
The CNN special report on the Boston incident was clear and informative. It is tragic that such a healthy event on a cool spring day was turned into a blood bath. Apart from the three dead, about 25 were seriously injured out of more than 140.
Think about it, nobody would or could imagine such a horrific thing happening. After all, for family members and friends of the participants, it would be natural to gather near the finishing line. Whoever who placed the bombs must hate America enough to want to inflict such terrible wounds (amputations of legs) on folks who merely show love and support to their loved ones! After all, the wounded ranged from age 2 to 71. These are ordinary citizens, they are not VIPs nor are they policy makers. Of all cowardly acts, this is surely one of the lowest of the low!
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
(121) Death by Overdose
A few afternoons ago I caught a program in CNN by the Chief Medical Correspondent. Apparently every 19 minutes there is a death somewhere in the US by prescription drug overdose. This cause of death exceeded death by cancer. It is common for even a young and healthy man to take some pain medicine in excess of what the doctor prescribed and then take a few beers. He then went to sleep and breathing stopped.
Even though the drugs taken were legitimate, they were opiates in origin. When pain medicine was taken together with tranquilizer, drug interaction would double or triple the effect each drug has on slowing down breathing. What happened would then not be too different from heroine overdose. These people has no intention of killing themselves. They were just guilty of "stacking" drugs and maybe mixing drug with alcohol. For instance, they were used to taken two painkillers every four hourly to control back pain. Maybe when they were under stress, they also were used to taking one tranquilizer to go to sleep. Now supposing one evening they were in acute pain, they popped in four painkillers and then decided to take a tranquilizer to sleep early. Before the pills were swallowed, they had two beers before dinner. As they lie down, the cocktail were mixing in the blood stream. Respiration slowed. The heart pumped slower. Breathing became shallow. Gradually it stopped. It was painless. The person was either unconscious or asleep.
Looking back, I did notice that in most American households I visited about thirty years ago there were many bottles of drugs in each bathroom cabinet. The people who hosted me were generally healthy and vibrant. It therefore would not be too far fetch to believe that USA uses 80% of all prescription painkillers worldwide now.
Even though the drugs taken were legitimate, they were opiates in origin. When pain medicine was taken together with tranquilizer, drug interaction would double or triple the effect each drug has on slowing down breathing. What happened would then not be too different from heroine overdose. These people has no intention of killing themselves. They were just guilty of "stacking" drugs and maybe mixing drug with alcohol. For instance, they were used to taken two painkillers every four hourly to control back pain. Maybe when they were under stress, they also were used to taking one tranquilizer to go to sleep. Now supposing one evening they were in acute pain, they popped in four painkillers and then decided to take a tranquilizer to sleep early. Before the pills were swallowed, they had two beers before dinner. As they lie down, the cocktail were mixing in the blood stream. Respiration slowed. The heart pumped slower. Breathing became shallow. Gradually it stopped. It was painless. The person was either unconscious or asleep.
Looking back, I did notice that in most American households I visited about thirty years ago there were many bottles of drugs in each bathroom cabinet. The people who hosted me were generally healthy and vibrant. It therefore would not be too far fetch to believe that USA uses 80% of all prescription painkillers worldwide now.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
(116) Persimmon leaves for relieving gas
Just the other day my husband bought ten persimmons on behalf of an associate. Quite a few missionary on furloughs came for the meeting.
The persimmons were orange in color and they were crunchy. For our missionaries in remote desert area, faraway Pacific islands, and generally small villages with only helicopter transportation; they were a rare and delicious treat. Each persimmon costs 1 local dollar.
One of our missionary to an East Asian country said the if we collect, wash and dry the four pieces of leaves; they make excellent medicine for relieving stomach gas. All one needs to do is to boil let's say fifty leaves in water on a small fire for about an hour. The semi-cooled medicine should be drunk. If one dose could not cure the problem, the next day repeat the procedure with another bunch of persimmon leaves.
Folk medicine is very important for missionaries who live in the inaccessible places with hardly any medical service.
The persimmons were orange in color and they were crunchy. For our missionaries in remote desert area, faraway Pacific islands, and generally small villages with only helicopter transportation; they were a rare and delicious treat. Each persimmon costs 1 local dollar.
One of our missionary to an East Asian country said the if we collect, wash and dry the four pieces of leaves; they make excellent medicine for relieving stomach gas. All one needs to do is to boil let's say fifty leaves in water on a small fire for about an hour. The semi-cooled medicine should be drunk. If one dose could not cure the problem, the next day repeat the procedure with another bunch of persimmon leaves.
Folk medicine is very important for missionaries who live in the inaccessible places with hardly any medical service.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
(82) Getting mum to wash hair
My cousin has a mum with early Alzeimer's. She complained that she could not persuade her mum to wash hair. It has been a month and the hair stinks.
I heard during a seminar that one patient's daughter lured her mum into the bath room, locked the door and splashed water everywhere until both women were wet. Then the resourceful daughter brought out a bubble blowing toy. The old lady sat on her bath chair happily blowing bubbles while her daughter shampooed the patient's hair. By the time the latter's hair was clean and was bathed, the daughter passed the patient to her maid to dry and dress. Then the daughter took her own bath before going back to work.
Such is life for those who love their parents who live longer lives than their brains' useful span.
I heard during a seminar that one patient's daughter lured her mum into the bath room, locked the door and splashed water everywhere until both women were wet. Then the resourceful daughter brought out a bubble blowing toy. The old lady sat on her bath chair happily blowing bubbles while her daughter shampooed the patient's hair. By the time the latter's hair was clean and was bathed, the daughter passed the patient to her maid to dry and dress. Then the daughter took her own bath before going back to work.
Such is life for those who love their parents who live longer lives than their brains' useful span.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
(54) A look at my voice box
The other day I went for my half yearly check up. I said yes to participating in a ENT graduate research project. The first visit involved a voice recording by a computer. A few days later, I went to the Ear, Nose and Throat Department and a flexible scope was lowered through my nostril into my throat to view the voice box. The image was in full colors, real time and is a moving video. It beats all the diagrams I learned by hard in my anatomy text books.
From the recorded video, I can see that the moving parts are actually little bones that make up a joint. Since my voice box looks perfectly normal and the sound recording passes whatever standard, there was no need for me to go again. I would become one number in the normal group.
From the recorded video, I can see that the moving parts are actually little bones that make up a joint. Since my voice box looks perfectly normal and the sound recording passes whatever standard, there was no need for me to go again. I would become one number in the normal group.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
(17) Folk cure for jaundice in infants
This is an old folk remedy for new born babies that show yellow in their skin: jaundice. The cause is the liver could not keep up with the processes necessary for the breakdown of the red blood cells.
An old lady helped in the care of her great grandson. Within the first week of his life, the baby has jaundice. Doctors would normally recommend sunning in early morning sunlight. They would suggest that the mother spoons and force feed the baby with water in little spoonfuls if the infant is bottle fed. Should the infant be breast fed, it should have sufficient water from the breasts.
This old lady found unprocessed goat milk and fed the breast feeding mom one glass one morning. The infant suckles and went to sleep. Two hours later he passed motion, lots of yellow liquid came out. The next morning, the baby's color turned normal, the yellow tinge is gone.
Supposing it is a bottle fed baby, she said two spoonfuls of goat milk collected fresh from goats let out to pasture would do the trick if we feed it to the infant. I do wonder if it is safe to feed a new born unpasteurized milk. Perhaps it would be safer to heat the fresh milk to short of boiling first.
I sunned and force feed water to Kenneth for three days and had to send Crystal for photo therapy in the hospital overnight. For that hospitalization, Crystal was like a little pin cushion: she endured a few sessions of blood taking.
An old lady helped in the care of her great grandson. Within the first week of his life, the baby has jaundice. Doctors would normally recommend sunning in early morning sunlight. They would suggest that the mother spoons and force feed the baby with water in little spoonfuls if the infant is bottle fed. Should the infant be breast fed, it should have sufficient water from the breasts.
This old lady found unprocessed goat milk and fed the breast feeding mom one glass one morning. The infant suckles and went to sleep. Two hours later he passed motion, lots of yellow liquid came out. The next morning, the baby's color turned normal, the yellow tinge is gone.
Supposing it is a bottle fed baby, she said two spoonfuls of goat milk collected fresh from goats let out to pasture would do the trick if we feed it to the infant. I do wonder if it is safe to feed a new born unpasteurized milk. Perhaps it would be safer to heat the fresh milk to short of boiling first.
I sunned and force feed water to Kenneth for three days and had to send Crystal for photo therapy in the hospital overnight. For that hospitalization, Crystal was like a little pin cushion: she endured a few sessions of blood taking.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
(919) Genetic Variation
Moved from 389 to be next to a companion blog
The first few months I landed in my college on the Eastern Seaboard of USA, I used to correspond with my brother by aerograms. In one of those newsy letters, I was informed of my cousin's suicide attempt. He was born and bred in southern China. Unfortunately, he won a place in a prestigious university in northern China. Within a few months, he was clinically depressed. Sadly, he had one failed suicide within the first year. After lengthy hospitalization, he was diagnosed with the sunlight related disease, quite a long name with many syllables. You see, should his brain not receive certain hours of bright sunlight per day, his brain chemicals begin to change and he tailspins slowly but surely into severe depression.
I was astounded by the sad news. Being born and bred for twenty years in a bright and sunny tropical country, I have taken the sun for granted. As long as I have breath and it does not rain, the sun shall shine. Not so in temperate America! Within three weeks of a wet, dim and drizzly spring, my usual even temper began to change. I was easily irritated and would snap readily when others tried to be difficult in dealing with me. The first year, my good friends used to snicker behind my back and whisper PMS (Pre-Menstrual syndrome). Some of them would be extra gentle and handle me with kid gloves. By second year, a few saw the pattern and actually marked my outbursts on their desk top calendars. One was brave enough to confront me once the spring rain stopped and asked if I have a genetic abnormality. I did not seek a medical diagnosis. By third year, I found that a few hours of reading next to my dorm mate's tanning lamp would negate the forces of darkness.
That was the early eighties. This is now a good thirty years later. I recently mentioned about my little infirmity to another cousin who is about ten years my junior. Guess what? She went right on to tell me about her problems. Since she did not study abroad, she did not realize she inherited the same set of faulty genes until our country had a really bad bout of haze -- when the readings went well above the double digits for weeks. That year, my brother had a tough time hunting for good guava because the harvest was badly affected by the haze. The unit price of retail guava skyrocketed and still one cannot get a hold of the usual big and plump round guava. During those days of sub-standard lighting, my cousin would come home from work and wept at the slightest provocation. She used to feel slighted easily and felt unwanted and unloved by anyone she came across. It is funny that on normal days she is a strong minded person whose head sits squarely on her level shoulders.
Just last week I finally gathered up the courage to tell my brothers about these three cases within the family.
- My cousin who was clinically depressed in northern China.
- I who would switch and turn into quite a bitch when the weather became gloomy.
- My other cousin who would be weepy and helpless in a period of dull, hazy days.
It did not end here, my niece went to England and failed no matter how hard she worked. Her brother actually believed she became depressed and reclusive. If you count our small family group, the number seemed significant.
My grandma who migrated from Canton had four children. The eldest daughter had two children, neither of those two had ever lived abroad. So we can't tell if they are blessed by the presence of those genetic aberration. The second boy grew to be the father of my weepy cousin when the sun hides itself behind thick haze. My mum is the third girl and she begets me who would snap at all and sundry in the spring rain. My eldest brother has a daughter who may very well be part of the club. She came back from England with the long winter nights and thrives now in our hot sunny weather. My grandma's youngest son has two children, out of which came the elder one who suffered the most because he ventured to a place with little sunlight in winter.
Not counting spouses, we boast of eighteen direct descendants from my maternal grandma. (f1 generation of four siblings have never lived away from the equator for any extended period of time) Out of eighteen individuals, we have at least three (f2 generation) whom believe they are bearers of the faulty genes. And one suspected case in the f 3 generation. That is close to a quarter. Frightening! But as long as those affected ones stick around the equator, they will be perfectly alright as long as haze does not hit too badly.
The first few months I landed in my college on the Eastern Seaboard of USA, I used to correspond with my brother by aerograms. In one of those newsy letters, I was informed of my cousin's suicide attempt. He was born and bred in southern China. Unfortunately, he won a place in a prestigious university in northern China. Within a few months, he was clinically depressed. Sadly, he had one failed suicide within the first year. After lengthy hospitalization, he was diagnosed with the sunlight related disease, quite a long name with many syllables. You see, should his brain not receive certain hours of bright sunlight per day, his brain chemicals begin to change and he tailspins slowly but surely into severe depression.
I was astounded by the sad news. Being born and bred for twenty years in a bright and sunny tropical country, I have taken the sun for granted. As long as I have breath and it does not rain, the sun shall shine. Not so in temperate America! Within three weeks of a wet, dim and drizzly spring, my usual even temper began to change. I was easily irritated and would snap readily when others tried to be difficult in dealing with me. The first year, my good friends used to snicker behind my back and whisper PMS (Pre-Menstrual syndrome). Some of them would be extra gentle and handle me with kid gloves. By second year, a few saw the pattern and actually marked my outbursts on their desk top calendars. One was brave enough to confront me once the spring rain stopped and asked if I have a genetic abnormality. I did not seek a medical diagnosis. By third year, I found that a few hours of reading next to my dorm mate's tanning lamp would negate the forces of darkness.
That was the early eighties. This is now a good thirty years later. I recently mentioned about my little infirmity to another cousin who is about ten years my junior. Guess what? She went right on to tell me about her problems. Since she did not study abroad, she did not realize she inherited the same set of faulty genes until our country had a really bad bout of haze -- when the readings went well above the double digits for weeks. That year, my brother had a tough time hunting for good guava because the harvest was badly affected by the haze. The unit price of retail guava skyrocketed and still one cannot get a hold of the usual big and plump round guava. During those days of sub-standard lighting, my cousin would come home from work and wept at the slightest provocation. She used to feel slighted easily and felt unwanted and unloved by anyone she came across. It is funny that on normal days she is a strong minded person whose head sits squarely on her level shoulders.
Just last week I finally gathered up the courage to tell my brothers about these three cases within the family.
- My cousin who was clinically depressed in northern China.
- I who would switch and turn into quite a bitch when the weather became gloomy.
- My other cousin who would be weepy and helpless in a period of dull, hazy days.
It did not end here, my niece went to England and failed no matter how hard she worked. Her brother actually believed she became depressed and reclusive. If you count our small family group, the number seemed significant.
My grandma who migrated from Canton had four children. The eldest daughter had two children, neither of those two had ever lived abroad. So we can't tell if they are blessed by the presence of those genetic aberration. The second boy grew to be the father of my weepy cousin when the sun hides itself behind thick haze. My mum is the third girl and she begets me who would snap at all and sundry in the spring rain. My eldest brother has a daughter who may very well be part of the club. She came back from England with the long winter nights and thrives now in our hot sunny weather. My grandma's youngest son has two children, out of which came the elder one who suffered the most because he ventured to a place with little sunlight in winter.
Not counting spouses, we boast of eighteen direct descendants from my maternal grandma. (f1 generation of four siblings have never lived away from the equator for any extended period of time) Out of eighteen individuals, we have at least three (f2 generation) whom believe they are bearers of the faulty genes. And one suspected case in the f 3 generation. That is close to a quarter. Frightening! But as long as those affected ones stick around the equator, they will be perfectly alright as long as haze does not hit too badly.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
(841) Crocodile meat as medicine
A friend was having lots of phlegm in her lungs and coughing continually but did not seem to dislodge it. I thought of my experience with Michael when he was about three years old.
Around that time I was working part-time in a local college but was sending Michael to a full time nanny. Michael was prone to cough and cold. One particular episode of flu was unusually virulent. He went through three sets of antibiotic plus other medication but was still coughing badly. My nanny's husband was a rather over bearing man. He instructed me to go to one village medicine shop (Chinese physician), ask for crocodile meat and whatever herb accompanying, boil them as instructed and force it down Michael's throat.
I was at wit's end then, so accordingly I did exactly as he instructed. The boiling formula was to add two bowls of water to the ingredients and boil it on low fire until I have one bowl of liquid left in the pot. I measured two bowls, started the slow boil. Then I sat down in the kitchen wondering how on earth would I know when to stop. After all, my eyes cannot tell me how much liquid would make one bowl. My dear husband walked in and asked me why I was sitting there watching the brew heating.
When he heard my difficulty, he tried not to laugh. He took a spoon and showed me the level of liquid with two bowls. So he said that when the liquid level falls to half that mark, the brew is ready. He used the spoon upside down, there was a leaf conveniently carved on the handle at the level where I should turn off the fire. I thought, why was I so stupid not to think of that myself. The big problem being solved, so I checked the brew every five minutes until it was done!
I remembered my husband and I forced fed the smelly medicine down my poor son's throat at about 5 pm. That night(at 1:30am) he woke up gagging and vomited a large pool of thick phlegm on the bathroom floor. The following day he was completely well.
My friend said her God ma did cook some foul broth twice like I said but it did not help her. She commented that if she were to go through what I related: having the difficulty of judging liquid level, she would be soundly scolded by her ex-husband. He could not accept the fact that she is not as clever and accomplished as he is. After about twenty years of being ill treated, put down, humiliated, emotionally abused... she finally called it quits. Her divorce finalized three years ago. She is rather happy earning her own keep now.
I believe she and I are both dyslexic to a certain extent, for her certain traits are more severe, I could have overcome my short comings a little further. I suppose it helped that my parents treated me like gold. I have spent the earlier part of my life earning honors. God was good that I won a scholarship to an American college. Many smarter people applied but could not go. I worked hard and graduated with honors. More than that, I was honored by the nomination to Phi Beta Kappa. Even if my husband dared to belittle me, I would not meekly swallow it. I know my own worth. It is not that I deserve honors, it is more of the fact that God has endowed me with lots of talents. He more than made up for all my short comings.
As I continue to listen to this woman who has suffered much. She in turn is helping her niece. That niece displayed even more classic symptoms of dyslexia. Well, the niece is fortunate that her aunt stuck her neck out to explain things to the former when she was 21. She will have many years of understanding and working within herself to overcome what needs to be worked on. She would not fall prey to others who might put her down because she could not help being what God made her to be.
Even for my friend who first learnt that she was merely dyslexic and not brain damaged at age 47, there is healing in God. As she accepts herself, peace and confidence would be her portion.
Around that time I was working part-time in a local college but was sending Michael to a full time nanny. Michael was prone to cough and cold. One particular episode of flu was unusually virulent. He went through three sets of antibiotic plus other medication but was still coughing badly. My nanny's husband was a rather over bearing man. He instructed me to go to one village medicine shop (Chinese physician), ask for crocodile meat and whatever herb accompanying, boil them as instructed and force it down Michael's throat.
I was at wit's end then, so accordingly I did exactly as he instructed. The boiling formula was to add two bowls of water to the ingredients and boil it on low fire until I have one bowl of liquid left in the pot. I measured two bowls, started the slow boil. Then I sat down in the kitchen wondering how on earth would I know when to stop. After all, my eyes cannot tell me how much liquid would make one bowl. My dear husband walked in and asked me why I was sitting there watching the brew heating.
When he heard my difficulty, he tried not to laugh. He took a spoon and showed me the level of liquid with two bowls. So he said that when the liquid level falls to half that mark, the brew is ready. He used the spoon upside down, there was a leaf conveniently carved on the handle at the level where I should turn off the fire. I thought, why was I so stupid not to think of that myself. The big problem being solved, so I checked the brew every five minutes until it was done!
I remembered my husband and I forced fed the smelly medicine down my poor son's throat at about 5 pm. That night(at 1:30am) he woke up gagging and vomited a large pool of thick phlegm on the bathroom floor. The following day he was completely well.
My friend said her God ma did cook some foul broth twice like I said but it did not help her. She commented that if she were to go through what I related: having the difficulty of judging liquid level, she would be soundly scolded by her ex-husband. He could not accept the fact that she is not as clever and accomplished as he is. After about twenty years of being ill treated, put down, humiliated, emotionally abused... she finally called it quits. Her divorce finalized three years ago. She is rather happy earning her own keep now.
I believe she and I are both dyslexic to a certain extent, for her certain traits are more severe, I could have overcome my short comings a little further. I suppose it helped that my parents treated me like gold. I have spent the earlier part of my life earning honors. God was good that I won a scholarship to an American college. Many smarter people applied but could not go. I worked hard and graduated with honors. More than that, I was honored by the nomination to Phi Beta Kappa. Even if my husband dared to belittle me, I would not meekly swallow it. I know my own worth. It is not that I deserve honors, it is more of the fact that God has endowed me with lots of talents. He more than made up for all my short comings.
As I continue to listen to this woman who has suffered much. She in turn is helping her niece. That niece displayed even more classic symptoms of dyslexia. Well, the niece is fortunate that her aunt stuck her neck out to explain things to the former when she was 21. She will have many years of understanding and working within herself to overcome what needs to be worked on. She would not fall prey to others who might put her down because she could not help being what God made her to be.
Even for my friend who first learnt that she was merely dyslexic and not brain damaged at age 47, there is healing in God. As she accepts herself, peace and confidence would be her portion.
Friday, March 2, 2012
(821) Genetic variation 3
I learned about colour blindness when I saw the test picture in my science book in my early teens. No, I was not red-green colour blind. One of my classmates was. But in his case, he still could barely discern between red and green.
Later I met my first colour blind friend in college. From biology I know that female colour blindness is statistically lower in the population. If she chose not to disclose that to me, I would never have guessed it. All her clothes were well matched. I have never caught her wearing one green and one red sock.
Then after my children went to an excellent art teacher for two years, she told me that she was legally colour blind. I was astounded. Of course once one is open to such possibilities, the exceptions to the rule are many. Recently I came across a professional artist who is colour blind too.
In my childhood days, my mum, my brothers and I could never agree on certain shades of colours. We would argue with each other about whether a T-shirt is blue or green. Later as our vocab increased, we could not decide that a colour is cyan, aquamarine or turquoise. All I know is that my father refused to make any comment on colours at all. And he loved me and would pay special attention to me. For a chauvinistic old fashion Chinese man, he spent a disproportionately high percentage of his little free time educating a female child on the history, culture and significance of the Chinese civilisation.
With hind sight, I see that I was probably born without a natural ability to discern between blue-green colours at a glance. But somewhere in my childhood years of struggle, somehow I had overcome it to a certain extent. Right until today I would give way to my husband and children in terms of colours. I try not to laugh at any child or adult that picks up the wrong item because of the lack of colour discernment.
(820) Cholesterol
I was in the market when I heard one customer refusing to buy red meat because of the cholesterol content. Being a busy body, I suggested the folk remedy of a few spoonfuls of oats soaked over night. She asked me if I have tried it, I have not. As my cholesterol was and is naturally normal all along. Personally, I know of six people who tried it and found it helpful over a long period of time.
It was interesting to note that I acquired good eating habits from my grand mother. She had a tumour removed from her neck in her forties. Following Chinese herbal beliefs, she abstained from eating chicken, duck, goose and deep fried oily food. I was her shadow since I started to walk. Naturally I refrained from all these and more. It was funny that I found poultry having an unflattering odour -- which my mum said was fragrance. And so I never eat animal skin and thus avoided consuming animal fat. I seldom touch chicken (unless I absolutely have to eat a little to stave off hunger or to be polite), hence I avoided hormones pumped into the birds.
All my children loved pork fat fried into crispy bits but I habitually pick them out one by one. I have yet to meet another child who does not enjoy fried chicken, not in my generation nor my children's generation. In a poor area, we find rickets or beri-beri, now in our society of over-eating, we have cholesterol problems. Well, all God's 'chillen' got problems.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
(737) A sensitive stomach lining
After a year or two of picking my brain while she opened her interesting world to me, she told me out of the blue that if I care to, I should get the job of writing a column on how to get the best of children. As she puts it, never mind without paper qualification, my methods actually worked.
Were I to think of her as an unusual person; her daughter, Crystal, is even more unique. When Crystal was in grade school, a fellow mum witnessed her being almost strangled by a so called friend in the cafeteria. The victim turned pale, staggered to the sink and threw up. Yet she didn't complain to any teacher. Neither did she say a word to her mother. Around that time, Crystal behaved exactly the same way as before or after the incident. Bee heard about the incident from another mother.
One day I was sitting in Bee's kitchen, talking nineteen to a dozen. The topic of hives came up. Bee related how they made a trip to a neighboring country to visit relatives. Their relations, being good hosts, treated them to expensive restaurant meals. Crystal was a small size ten-year-old who could not tolerate spicy food. Since the host and hostess ordered a spread of adult's choices, Crystal could hardly find anything to eat. Anyway, she was extremely hungry after a full day of shopping, she ate whatever available that she could tolerate and swallow. When they came back, Crystal had a very bad case of hives that did not respond to the usual course of anti-histamine. As I questioned Bee closely, she related how Crystal for years ate very few types of food. Not only was Crystal underweight, she often reacted with different symptoms if she was forced to eat food she would refuse if given a choice.
There I made a few comments that Bee agreed whole-heartedly with. She said she wished her GP knew as much as I do about children's allergies. Then she went on to ask me a number of questions that her Doctors could not or would not answer.
As I answered one question after another without thinking, both she and I were staggered. How did I know? After all, I had no medical training. Well, I had no explanation until I met a general practitioner who was not only experienced but who is a life long learner. He prescribed me a one week dose of steroid. I returned to his clinic two days later complaining I felt giddy, had heart palpitation and possibly had hallucination (it is something like dreaming while awake). He believed I had very sensitive stomach lining, probably was born with it since I avoided antibiotics and certain other drugs like plague throughout my life.
What are the chances that I meet up with the mum of a girl who shared similar nutritional problems, food allergies and emotional upheavals of childhood with me? One in a few millions in terms of probability, I guess. It is not like I could take one look at Crystal and identify her past history. When I got to know her mum, she was thin but not unhealthily so. It must be providence.
* solscenic 11 ig 798605 from www.earthwatch2.org
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
(724) Health is more precious than gold
I have a good friend who is about two years older than me. She has perfect blood pressure, healthy BMI, good blood sugar and cholesterol reading. It seemed that she has perfect health. Unfortunately she had a fall down a few steps while she was mopping the stairs; she ran down a slippery flight of stairs trying vainly to catch a phone call.
For quite a few years she was alright. Lately she has problems with walking long distances. That in itself is not so bad as we are all dependent on cars anyway. The killing part of the problem is that she could not sit in a car for more than ten minutes at a time. Should she do that, she finds that she could not stand up and walk without having her limb buckle under her with no warning.
We are talking about an attractive woman who could pass as a thirty six year old. She wears small size clothing and are long legged. That image is just not congruent with carrying a walking stick. She went to bone doctor, Chinese physician, chiropractor, nerve specialist, ... you name it, she has tried it. After all, her husband's medical coverage is very generous, given by a fortune 500 company to senior managers and their spouses.
For most of us, it is when we lose our perfect health that we realize how precious it is.
For quite a few years she was alright. Lately she has problems with walking long distances. That in itself is not so bad as we are all dependent on cars anyway. The killing part of the problem is that she could not sit in a car for more than ten minutes at a time. Should she do that, she finds that she could not stand up and walk without having her limb buckle under her with no warning.
We are talking about an attractive woman who could pass as a thirty six year old. She wears small size clothing and are long legged. That image is just not congruent with carrying a walking stick. She went to bone doctor, Chinese physician, chiropractor, nerve specialist, ... you name it, she has tried it. After all, her husband's medical coverage is very generous, given by a fortune 500 company to senior managers and their spouses.
For most of us, it is when we lose our perfect health that we realize how precious it is.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
(689) Opening eyes by Michael Amendolia
This article was found in Reader's Digest Jan 2006. I am very impressed by the revolutionary low-cost and fast method of removing cataract assembly style to restore sight brought by Dr. Sanduk Ruit to North Korea.
My mother went to a private clinic for her cataract removal in her sixties and it cost her about three thousand dollars twelve years ago. Two years later, she paid about four thousands for the other eye. I can sympathize with folks who are too poor to be able to afford the operation.
Dr Ruit developed this new method with Dr. Fred Hollows. They managed to shave off US$60 off the price of the intra-ocular lens to about US$5 each. Ruit perfected a "suture-less, self-sealing" cataract surgery technique while performing 75,000 operations in Kathmandu and throughout the Himalayas. This quick surgery costs as little as US$20 per patient. In a poor country like North Korea, it means people who are legally blind could regain their sight after undergoing the operation.
My mother went to a private clinic for her cataract removal in her sixties and it cost her about three thousand dollars twelve years ago. Two years later, she paid about four thousands for the other eye. I can sympathize with folks who are too poor to be able to afford the operation.
Dr Ruit developed this new method with Dr. Fred Hollows. They managed to shave off US$60 off the price of the intra-ocular lens to about US$5 each. Ruit perfected a "suture-less, self-sealing" cataract surgery technique while performing 75,000 operations in Kathmandu and throughout the Himalayas. This quick surgery costs as little as US$20 per patient. In a poor country like North Korea, it means people who are legally blind could regain their sight after undergoing the operation.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
(609) Business acumen?
There were four people in my car. We were traveling between towns. Christine saw a jungle fruit called "petai" being sold. We were too late to stop there, as we were travelling at 60 Km/h. There after the driver slowed down to 50 Km/h and the rest of us scanned the roadside for such stalls. Ten minutes later we scouted one, slowed down and stopped.
I did not get out as I treasured the air-conditioning in the car. As I was listening to a radio station, the other three went to make purchases. When they finally came back, they brought back a huge bunch of "petai". And I mean a lot. Each stalk subdivides into eight to twelve branches. Each branch leads to a long pod. Each pod contains about thirteen seeds. We are talking about ten bunches multiply by let's say ten pods -- about a hundred pods and therefore maybe 1200 seeds!
In my heart I was wondering if they were purchasing gifts for kith and kin or they were thinking of reselling? Christine and Yoke Fong were asking each other about the amount being paid. Christine thought Yoke Fong overpaid the seller and Yoke Fong also thought Christine paid more than she should. Since neither admit the other is right, they took out their purses and counted what was in hand to see how much was paid. After much recalling and calculation, they realized that Christine paid thirty dollars and Yoke Fong actually paid nothing. The confusion arose from the seller refusing to divide the huge bunch. In the end both ladies agreed to each buy half a bundle. They negotiated down the price to sixty dollars. Each lady took out one 50 dollar note. Christine received twenty dollars in change. Yoke Fong's 50 dollar bill was returned as the seller did not have change. In between there were other customers and separate transactions. Some how, Yoke Fong thought she paid fifty dollars. She took the bunch and walked back to the car. Meanwhile, Christine followed and had a running conversation trying to figure out exactly how much money had been handed over.
My husband, who was looking at durian and mangosteen, thought they both paid and obtained their rightful change. We proceeded and were miles away when they were sure the seller made a very bad bargain by insisting that they bought the entire bundle. We laughed and laughed about the big confusion and how blur both ladies were. We felt very bad that the business owner unwittingly giving them another fifty per cent discount. After all, it would have been the easiest thing to untie the bundle, and divide it into two bunches of 5 branches.
When we reached home, my husband and I brought back a gift of one branch. The seeds were removed for cooking. Ingredients used: chilli, shallot, garlic, dried prawns, onions. The first four ingredients were pounded into a wet paste and onions were sliced. Heat a spoonful of oil in a pan, brown the onion slices. Add the wet paste. Stir the mixture until fragrant, add the seeds. If necessary, add a little water to prevent food being burnt. Add salt and sugar(optional) to taste. Serve with white rice. These seeds could be eaten raw, therefore cooking time is up to personal preferences. In fact there are local who would shy from eating "petai", as it is actually stinking in terms of smell. Those who like it have acquired the taste like westerners liking blue cheese. For those who are knowledgeable, "petai" has medicinal value. It is supposed to reduce blood sugar level and good for cleansing the kidneys.
I did not get out as I treasured the air-conditioning in the car. As I was listening to a radio station, the other three went to make purchases. When they finally came back, they brought back a huge bunch of "petai". And I mean a lot. Each stalk subdivides into eight to twelve branches. Each branch leads to a long pod. Each pod contains about thirteen seeds. We are talking about ten bunches multiply by let's say ten pods -- about a hundred pods and therefore maybe 1200 seeds!
In my heart I was wondering if they were purchasing gifts for kith and kin or they were thinking of reselling? Christine and Yoke Fong were asking each other about the amount being paid. Christine thought Yoke Fong overpaid the seller and Yoke Fong also thought Christine paid more than she should. Since neither admit the other is right, they took out their purses and counted what was in hand to see how much was paid. After much recalling and calculation, they realized that Christine paid thirty dollars and Yoke Fong actually paid nothing. The confusion arose from the seller refusing to divide the huge bunch. In the end both ladies agreed to each buy half a bundle. They negotiated down the price to sixty dollars. Each lady took out one 50 dollar note. Christine received twenty dollars in change. Yoke Fong's 50 dollar bill was returned as the seller did not have change. In between there were other customers and separate transactions. Some how, Yoke Fong thought she paid fifty dollars. She took the bunch and walked back to the car. Meanwhile, Christine followed and had a running conversation trying to figure out exactly how much money had been handed over.
My husband, who was looking at durian and mangosteen, thought they both paid and obtained their rightful change. We proceeded and were miles away when they were sure the seller made a very bad bargain by insisting that they bought the entire bundle. We laughed and laughed about the big confusion and how blur both ladies were. We felt very bad that the business owner unwittingly giving them another fifty per cent discount. After all, it would have been the easiest thing to untie the bundle, and divide it into two bunches of 5 branches.
When we reached home, my husband and I brought back a gift of one branch. The seeds were removed for cooking. Ingredients used: chilli, shallot, garlic, dried prawns, onions. The first four ingredients were pounded into a wet paste and onions were sliced. Heat a spoonful of oil in a pan, brown the onion slices. Add the wet paste. Stir the mixture until fragrant, add the seeds. If necessary, add a little water to prevent food being burnt. Add salt and sugar(optional) to taste. Serve with white rice. These seeds could be eaten raw, therefore cooking time is up to personal preferences. In fact there are local who would shy from eating "petai", as it is actually stinking in terms of smell. Those who like it have acquired the taste like westerners liking blue cheese. For those who are knowledgeable, "petai" has medicinal value. It is supposed to reduce blood sugar level and good for cleansing the kidneys.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
(595) vegetarian diet
First of all I must state that I love vegetables. One vacation I spent almost a month with a North American white family who happened to be Hindus and they were on a milk-egg-vegetarian diet. It was a most healthy and delicious diet.
In Silver City, I met with a special need child whose father had been a hard core Buddhist in his youth. He actually spent a year in Bangkok as a novice monk. According to him, a few weeks after he went on non-egg vegan diet he started seeing spirits. They were told that the spirits were spiritual guides. A few months later he started donning the saffron color habit. With that "uniform", he could communicate with his guides, mainly at night.
After this man married and have a few children, his wife joined a church. At first there was a lot of friction between him and his wife over their religious differences. Then his baby was sick and almost died. He was very touched with the care, love and practical help given by his wife's church friends. Slowly he came round to accept her church. It took years before he would take part in his wife's Life group activities. As a volunteer to his child's therapy, I was invited to join his Life Group's special functions with receptions. I happened to be present when this quiet and unassuming man took the floor to explain that vegetarian diet is more than just a healthy way of eating, it has religious implications. He urged his friends to not give up meat. He suggested one meal on Wednesday of fish and one meal on Saturday of chicken. He personally believe that to be completely without meat is to give the devil a foot hold.
Here I must share how my cousin found "Tao" (The way) within a Taiwanese Buddhist sect and gradually ate more and more vegetables. Sad to say, her retirement as a Lower Court Judge gave her plenty of time as a speaker for this religion. She need not study any scripture, but by daily meditations and going into trance, she was used as an instrument to preach the sermons. She was involved in some pyramid schemes and gotten into loads of debts. She lost a house, hundreds of thousands of her personal money, her mother and her unmarried brother's life savings. After borrowing big amounts of money left and right, she was unable to repay her relatives, friends and former colleagues. After a year or two she stopped attending her Buddhist sect. Lately she started eating meat again and seemed a lot more alert and is more herself. When she went around borrowing money and telling people sob stories, she was such an accomplished liar and an excellent actress who could cry as if her whole family just died in an accident. As a well wisher, I certainly hope that she would return to her intelligent, sane and stable self.
In Silver City, I met with a special need child whose father had been a hard core Buddhist in his youth. He actually spent a year in Bangkok as a novice monk. According to him, a few weeks after he went on non-egg vegan diet he started seeing spirits. They were told that the spirits were spiritual guides. A few months later he started donning the saffron color habit. With that "uniform", he could communicate with his guides, mainly at night.
After this man married and have a few children, his wife joined a church. At first there was a lot of friction between him and his wife over their religious differences. Then his baby was sick and almost died. He was very touched with the care, love and practical help given by his wife's church friends. Slowly he came round to accept her church. It took years before he would take part in his wife's Life group activities. As a volunteer to his child's therapy, I was invited to join his Life Group's special functions with receptions. I happened to be present when this quiet and unassuming man took the floor to explain that vegetarian diet is more than just a healthy way of eating, it has religious implications. He urged his friends to not give up meat. He suggested one meal on Wednesday of fish and one meal on Saturday of chicken. He personally believe that to be completely without meat is to give the devil a foot hold.
Here I must share how my cousin found "Tao" (The way) within a Taiwanese Buddhist sect and gradually ate more and more vegetables. Sad to say, her retirement as a Lower Court Judge gave her plenty of time as a speaker for this religion. She need not study any scripture, but by daily meditations and going into trance, she was used as an instrument to preach the sermons. She was involved in some pyramid schemes and gotten into loads of debts. She lost a house, hundreds of thousands of her personal money, her mother and her unmarried brother's life savings. After borrowing big amounts of money left and right, she was unable to repay her relatives, friends and former colleagues. After a year or two she stopped attending her Buddhist sect. Lately she started eating meat again and seemed a lot more alert and is more herself. When she went around borrowing money and telling people sob stories, she was such an accomplished liar and an excellent actress who could cry as if her whole family just died in an accident. As a well wisher, I certainly hope that she would return to her intelligent, sane and stable self.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
(589) Alcohol 2
A group of people read 1 Timothy 3. We noted verse 2 and 3: A bishop must be ... Not given to wine ... Also verse 8: Likewise must the deacons be ... not given to much wine ...
It was interesting that no two people around the table interpret it the same way. I quoted from the authorized King James version. Since different people use different versions, it is noted that in other versions bishop was replaced by elder or overseer. For readers who are not familiar with churches, deacons are the second tier leaders who may be called council or committee members.
The church I attend right now takes a tough stand against alcohol of all forms. Hence my younger children do not touch alcohol at all. My husband and my eldest son would take beer or wine in moderation. I grew up sipping whatever my father was drinking at that moment. Yet my father drunk sparingly and most of the time for health purposes. Since my allergic reaction to wine at the age of eighteen, I have avoided alcohol of all forms. Two times I was taken in; once was in the form of mint liquor in an ice-cream dessert, the other was a Chinese dish with rice wine added but not taken to boiling point. Were it not for the unfortunate allergy, I would have been a confirmed wine lover.
Jesus turned water into wine at a Canaan wedding as recorded in the second chapter of John. Most wedding receptions in the East would serve wine or liquor. At my wedding reception, no alcohol was served. That was not unusual for Christian couples in my country. Actually for that reason we registered a gain of a few thousand dollars for throwing the dinner reception. It is customary for guests to such wedding receptions to give cash gifts to the newlyweds.
While I find nothing wrong with folks who can control their intake of alcohol to acceptable levels, I am mindful of the fact that a certain percentage of the population is genetically prone to alcoholism. In fact the family who took me in as a guest for my first Christmas found out tragically that their son turned alcoholic in college. Since one of the grandmothers was adopted, there was no way for them to even guess at this unexpected legacy. Interestingly everyone from both sides of the family could handle alcohol. Some drink socially and some abstain, my college friend's brother was the only one in the entire clan with the risk factor and drunk to his own detriment. I am happy to note that he has been dry for many years now.
It was interesting that no two people around the table interpret it the same way. I quoted from the authorized King James version. Since different people use different versions, it is noted that in other versions bishop was replaced by elder or overseer. For readers who are not familiar with churches, deacons are the second tier leaders who may be called council or committee members.
The church I attend right now takes a tough stand against alcohol of all forms. Hence my younger children do not touch alcohol at all. My husband and my eldest son would take beer or wine in moderation. I grew up sipping whatever my father was drinking at that moment. Yet my father drunk sparingly and most of the time for health purposes. Since my allergic reaction to wine at the age of eighteen, I have avoided alcohol of all forms. Two times I was taken in; once was in the form of mint liquor in an ice-cream dessert, the other was a Chinese dish with rice wine added but not taken to boiling point. Were it not for the unfortunate allergy, I would have been a confirmed wine lover.
Jesus turned water into wine at a Canaan wedding as recorded in the second chapter of John. Most wedding receptions in the East would serve wine or liquor. At my wedding reception, no alcohol was served. That was not unusual for Christian couples in my country. Actually for that reason we registered a gain of a few thousand dollars for throwing the dinner reception. It is customary for guests to such wedding receptions to give cash gifts to the newlyweds.
While I find nothing wrong with folks who can control their intake of alcohol to acceptable levels, I am mindful of the fact that a certain percentage of the population is genetically prone to alcoholism. In fact the family who took me in as a guest for my first Christmas found out tragically that their son turned alcoholic in college. Since one of the grandmothers was adopted, there was no way for them to even guess at this unexpected legacy. Interestingly everyone from both sides of the family could handle alcohol. Some drink socially and some abstain, my college friend's brother was the only one in the entire clan with the risk factor and drunk to his own detriment. I am happy to note that he has been dry for many years now.
Friday, December 2, 2011
(583) Survival of the sickest by Dr. Sharon Moalem
I am impressed with the author's qualifications. He is a scientific researcher while finishing his medical training. The few people I know with such background in my country are raking in millions as the founders in multi-level marketing firms selling health products.
The first chapter I read was fascinating. His grandfather and him both suffer from hemachromatosis. This is a disorder that allows the body to keep building up its storage of iron until an overload may damage the pancreas and the liver, leading to death. His grandfather has been donating blood for most of his life. That apparently is a way to off load iron without harming the body. He went on to describe in details how people with the genetic aberration were favored to survived the Black Death in the middle ages. That was why people descended from Europeans have a one in four chance of inheriting this gene. Not everyone with this defective gene display all the symptoms which would lead to death if untreated. Hence the penetrance of this disorder is low.
The second chapter explains in detail how our bodies react to extreme cold. This in turn has something to do with the way we metabolize glucose. Here I learn of the Hunter's Response: when a person is faced with life threatening cold, his blood vessels would constrict to keep his vital organs warm; after some time in the cold, the constricted capillaries will dilate briefly, sending a rush of warm blood into the numbed fingers and toes before constricting again to drive the blood back into the core. This intermittent cycles of constriction and release would protect both the core organs as well as keeping the limbs from permanent damage. People from warm weather populations do not have this natural ability to protect both their limbs and core at the same time.
In chapter 3 we find him explaining how the sun simultaneously enables us to make vitamin D and destroys folic acid which is required in the making of red blood cells. To protect folic acid, dark skin people has melanin which prevent ultra violet rays from wrecking havoc. To ensure sufficient vitamin D is produced, a gene called ApoE4 cranks up the the amount of cholesterol flowing through the blood to maximize whatever sunlight penetrating the skin. It is interesting to note that ApoE4 is present too in northern Europeans to ensure what little sunlight there is would be fully utilized to make vitamin D.
A common enzyme deficiency, G6PD, is explained in chapter 4. Apparently over many centuries, people carrying G6PD genes were better at surviving malaria. The reason is that their red blood cells are not condusive to host the plasmodium, the shorter life of malformed red cell also disrupts the life cycle of the parasite. Therefore even though folks with G6PD reacts badly to eating fava beans, a staple in Africa and southern Europe, natural selection dictates that this defective gene gets passed onto millions of individuals.
There are four more chapters, each more interesting and thought provoking than the last. This is the first time I encounter evolutionary medicine and it certainly will not be my last.
The first chapter I read was fascinating. His grandfather and him both suffer from hemachromatosis. This is a disorder that allows the body to keep building up its storage of iron until an overload may damage the pancreas and the liver, leading to death. His grandfather has been donating blood for most of his life. That apparently is a way to off load iron without harming the body. He went on to describe in details how people with the genetic aberration were favored to survived the Black Death in the middle ages. That was why people descended from Europeans have a one in four chance of inheriting this gene. Not everyone with this defective gene display all the symptoms which would lead to death if untreated. Hence the penetrance of this disorder is low.
The second chapter explains in detail how our bodies react to extreme cold. This in turn has something to do with the way we metabolize glucose. Here I learn of the Hunter's Response: when a person is faced with life threatening cold, his blood vessels would constrict to keep his vital organs warm; after some time in the cold, the constricted capillaries will dilate briefly, sending a rush of warm blood into the numbed fingers and toes before constricting again to drive the blood back into the core. This intermittent cycles of constriction and release would protect both the core organs as well as keeping the limbs from permanent damage. People from warm weather populations do not have this natural ability to protect both their limbs and core at the same time.
In chapter 3 we find him explaining how the sun simultaneously enables us to make vitamin D and destroys folic acid which is required in the making of red blood cells. To protect folic acid, dark skin people has melanin which prevent ultra violet rays from wrecking havoc. To ensure sufficient vitamin D is produced, a gene called ApoE4 cranks up the the amount of cholesterol flowing through the blood to maximize whatever sunlight penetrating the skin. It is interesting to note that ApoE4 is present too in northern Europeans to ensure what little sunlight there is would be fully utilized to make vitamin D.
A common enzyme deficiency, G6PD, is explained in chapter 4. Apparently over many centuries, people carrying G6PD genes were better at surviving malaria. The reason is that their red blood cells are not condusive to host the plasmodium, the shorter life of malformed red cell also disrupts the life cycle of the parasite. Therefore even though folks with G6PD reacts badly to eating fava beans, a staple in Africa and southern Europe, natural selection dictates that this defective gene gets passed onto millions of individuals.
There are four more chapters, each more interesting and thought provoking than the last. This is the first time I encounter evolutionary medicine and it certainly will not be my last.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
(569) lady's fingers or ocra
My sis-in-law loves dessert. When she tested high in blood sugar, she trawled the net searching for folk cures. For almost a complete year, she soaked sliced lady's finger (one medium size) in cooled boiled water over night. The next morning she would drink the sticky water into her empty stomach and discard the vegetable pieces. After three months of continual drinking, she found her blood sugar slowly dropping even though she continued her merry way enjoying her many desserts. A few months ago she stopped taking the sticky solution and enjoy both sweet food and a normal blood sugar level. Though she tests her sugar level periodically just to be sure it is good.
My husband started this routine, within the first ten days, his blood sugar level remained unchanged but surprisingly his LDL dropped for the first time in ten years. He had been on cholesterol controlling drug for at least 5 years. On top of that, he takes raw soaked haba(an Indian spice) as well as cooked oatmeal every morning for at least a year. Now my husband in turn trawled the inter net for explanations. What he found is that the fibre in lady's finger absorbed LDL in the lower gut and so LDL is passed out of the body. You see, my thrifty husband could not bring himself to throw away his hard earned money -- the pieces of lady's finger. And so he ate them up every morning as a matter of course.
Recently I accompanied my mother to visit unwell elderly relatives who live hundreds of miles away. While chit-chatting, we brought up the above testimonies. My elderly aunt by marriage is a diabetic with lots of complications. She decided to try this folk cure, after all lady's finger is cheap and readily available round the year where we live. Two nights ago, my uncle called excitingly to let my mum know that her blood sugar dipped after just one week of the new suggested remedy. This really is the most dramatic result I have heard, for most folks, it takes months to see effects. Some give up too soon to see any benefits. Of course a diabetic has to continue her medications, to take tests as prescribed by a physician over regular check ups.
My husband started this routine, within the first ten days, his blood sugar level remained unchanged but surprisingly his LDL dropped for the first time in ten years. He had been on cholesterol controlling drug for at least 5 years. On top of that, he takes raw soaked haba(an Indian spice) as well as cooked oatmeal every morning for at least a year. Now my husband in turn trawled the inter net for explanations. What he found is that the fibre in lady's finger absorbed LDL in the lower gut and so LDL is passed out of the body. You see, my thrifty husband could not bring himself to throw away his hard earned money -- the pieces of lady's finger. And so he ate them up every morning as a matter of course.
Recently I accompanied my mother to visit unwell elderly relatives who live hundreds of miles away. While chit-chatting, we brought up the above testimonies. My elderly aunt by marriage is a diabetic with lots of complications. She decided to try this folk cure, after all lady's finger is cheap and readily available round the year where we live. Two nights ago, my uncle called excitingly to let my mum know that her blood sugar dipped after just one week of the new suggested remedy. This really is the most dramatic result I have heard, for most folks, it takes months to see effects. Some give up too soon to see any benefits. Of course a diabetic has to continue her medications, to take tests as prescribed by a physician over regular check ups.
(567) Alcohol
Elizabeth was working at placing some advertisements in my blog few nights ago. I refused cigarettes adverts but said beer and wine is OK for me. When she asked why, I had to stop for a moment to think of an answer.
I grew up in a typical Chinese family where my father drinks sparingly either in social occasions or privately for health. Since as young as I can recall, I would hang around my dad if I see any beer bottle being opened. I love the bitter clear taste of beer. Children are allowed a sip on ordinary days and maybe a few mouthfuls during festive days.
When I was eighteen, I went to my first party with alcohol. A dear friend's brother brought back a bottle of red wine from Australia. I was greedy and accepted a second glass. It really tasted heavenly. The same night I broke up in hives all over my body. Even a full course of anti-histamines did not chase away the itchy bumps. Finally my family doctor had to jab me.
Since then I avoided all forms of alcohols. Some friends pointed out that I may be allergic to fermentation products and not to pure alcohol. But my stand is why should I try liquor when it may adversely raise my level of allergy to a life threatening reaction? Perhaps God is being kind to me, I would not become too fond of the bottle like my maternal grand father who died drunk at the age of forty nine by either a stroke or a heart attack. He groaned and fell dead in the midst of a shower leaving behind a young widow with five young children.
I grew up in a typical Chinese family where my father drinks sparingly either in social occasions or privately for health. Since as young as I can recall, I would hang around my dad if I see any beer bottle being opened. I love the bitter clear taste of beer. Children are allowed a sip on ordinary days and maybe a few mouthfuls during festive days.
When I was eighteen, I went to my first party with alcohol. A dear friend's brother brought back a bottle of red wine from Australia. I was greedy and accepted a second glass. It really tasted heavenly. The same night I broke up in hives all over my body. Even a full course of anti-histamines did not chase away the itchy bumps. Finally my family doctor had to jab me.
Since then I avoided all forms of alcohols. Some friends pointed out that I may be allergic to fermentation products and not to pure alcohol. But my stand is why should I try liquor when it may adversely raise my level of allergy to a life threatening reaction? Perhaps God is being kind to me, I would not become too fond of the bottle like my maternal grand father who died drunk at the age of forty nine by either a stroke or a heart attack. He groaned and fell dead in the midst of a shower leaving behind a young widow with five young children.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
(563) Food?
Someone I know threw a cut lemon into the drinking water and expected the water to be drinkable 24 hours later. I suppose she was thinking of her mum using dried lemon to flavour plain water. Or maybe she could do that and get the expected result in her home country that is much cooler than the equatorial climate here.
Come to think of it, the preserved vegetables from China like salted vege and mui choy may be considered by nutritionist as non-food. But Kim Chi from Korea is good for health because of the enzymes it contains. My deceased grandma who was a peasant in southern China practically survived on preserved vegetables in the cold seasons many years ago. Now my brother and sister-in-law would not even touch such food with a ten foot pole. I actually have nothing against preserved food but since my poor health twenty years ago, I have been allergic to any food containing too much preservatives. There was not much choice for me apart from avoiding such food like plague.
From whole grain to white rice...from molasses to white refined sugar ... from fresh noodle to instant noodle ... some how we cannot escape from the changes brought by industrialization. Neither can we regain the activity level of the farmers in the by gone days as we sit in front of our computers in our air-conditioned offices or home.
Come to think of it, the preserved vegetables from China like salted vege and mui choy may be considered by nutritionist as non-food. But Kim Chi from Korea is good for health because of the enzymes it contains. My deceased grandma who was a peasant in southern China practically survived on preserved vegetables in the cold seasons many years ago. Now my brother and sister-in-law would not even touch such food with a ten foot pole. I actually have nothing against preserved food but since my poor health twenty years ago, I have been allergic to any food containing too much preservatives. There was not much choice for me apart from avoiding such food like plague.
From whole grain to white rice...from molasses to white refined sugar ... from fresh noodle to instant noodle ... some how we cannot escape from the changes brought by industrialization. Neither can we regain the activity level of the farmers in the by gone days as we sit in front of our computers in our air-conditioned offices or home.
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