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Friday, December 2, 2016

The Tryptophan/Melatonin/Serotonin Connection │ The Celebrex Lie

I only had my midday meal yesterday, and that may have contributed to how hard my drinks last evening affected me ─ I felt quite hungover this morning.

All morning.

I had drunk the usual two or three ounces of liquor, and then my three allotted strong (8% alcohol) cans of beer; but then I had two moderately strong (6.4% alcohol) cans of beer after that.

My younger brother Mark was poor company, passing out for maybe 1½ hours, and entertaining me for five minutes with one of his infernal sneezing fits.

These things tend to kick in when he's passed out in his chair and then gags or chokes a little.  I tried counting how many sneezes he essentially roars or shouts out over the course of those five or so minutes, but I got confused at one point.  So the total was anywhere from 20 to 23.

It's all actually quite disgusting as he spews forth the contents of his lungs into the living room atmosphere over and over again while the extended sneezing fit lasts.

There are usually at least 10 to 15 seconds between the sneezes, and it is damnably annoying with that going on while I try to concentrate on a television programme I am interested in.

These fits only strike when he's plastered.

If I have any open food present, I take it away to a room upstairs; and I keep my hand over the opening of my can of beer.  It's bad enough that I have to breathe whatever he's projecting around for those five minutes.

Anyway, he never went on up to his room for the night until a little after 11:00 p.m.  I don't know if the sleep he gets when he's passed out in his chair contributes anything worthwhile to his night's total or not.

He keeps his alarm set for no later than 4:20 a.m. so he can get up to ready for his workday.

At 64 years of age, I don't know how he can keep this up.

I'm unsure if I made it to bed before or after midnight; either way, it would have been fairly close around then, I think.

But I sure felt rough this morning.

I wanted to do the four-mile round-trip hike to the government liquor store over at 108th Avenue & King George Boulevard here in Whalley, but I decided to put in what I consider a full day's work at the post I have been putting together since last Tuesday at one of my hosted websites.

I knew that I would need to return to bed for awhile before I went anywhere.

I finally ate something late in the morning, and I think it was something like 12:44 p.m. when at last I sought some bedrest.

By the way, my youngest step-son Pote and his girlfriend were here all bloody morning again ─ I am exceedingly fed up with having him home like this during the week.  I wish to hell that his employers would put him on a day shift and give me the peace and privacy during the week that I so crave.

The pair may have gone out while I was seeking rest, for my eldest step-son Tho's car was gone ─ Pote has been using it during the week while Tho endures a driving suspension.

Whatever the case, it was 2:29 p.m. before I got that hike underway.

It had rained all morning, and was still doing so ─ and it was rather blustery.

I wouldn't have gone if I had felt like exercising, but that sort of activity was impossible the way I had felt ─ especially with Pote and his girlfriend here.

My conscience is such that I am driven to atone for the lost activity by making the effort to do the beer hike.  Carrying home a dozen cans of beer in each hand for two miles tends to be something of a workout, so I am able to placate my conscience by inflicting the errand upon myself.

There was nothing of note about the journey.  The rain had basically stopped as I was  making the return hike.

And I was back into the house by 3:55 p.m.

I want now to post some further photos that I do believe my wife Jack may have taken in Bangkok on October 29 when the Grand Palace was opened up for the Thai people to pay their respects to their King Bhumibol Adulyadej's urn or coffin.

She had left Canada on the evening of October 24 to fly to Thailand to visit her mother and other family and friends in Nong Soong, very near to Udon Thani; and she returned to Canada on November 21.

Jack and some of her family and friends appeared to have gone there to show their respect.  Whether they managed to get free passage from Udon Thani or not, I have yet to determine. 

This boy may be Daniel, the son of my wife Jack's sister Penn:


This next photo may just be a random capture of some of the nearby crowd:


I don't know if these people were part of Jack's group or not ─ Jack likes children, so she my simply have taken the photo for that reason:


Some handsome young men in uniform:


Possibly Daniel again, my wife Jack's nephew:


Jack's sister Penn...and Penn's son Daniel, I expect:


More probable random shots of the nearby crowd:


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You might enjoy this fairly short article inspired by the recent U.S. Thanksgiving and the elaborate feasts that tend to go with it:

HSIonline.com

There is a little more on the tryptophan/melatonin/serotonin connection here:

jesusisiam.com


That published study is from a journal entirely devoted to studies of tryptophan, if you can believe it ─ the International Journal of Tryptophan Research.

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Within the past couple or so days, I included some information in a post that contested the truth of a recently published study which claimed that pain-relief drug Celebrex was no more dangerous than medications like Naproxen and Ibuprofen

I am not going to link to that most suspect study again.  Rather, I want to link to two excellent reports published by Forbes that anyone being confronted with a Celebrex prescription on the basis that it has been found to be safe ought to read:

Forbes.com


Why would anyone bother with any of those useless drugs?  The best that they can do is potentially mask some of the pain ─ they do nothing to treat what is actually causing it.

A sensible study has just been published that declares its results prove that combined chondroitin and glucosamine supplementation were at least equal to celecoxib (Celebrex) for pain relief, and they were superior to celecoxib when it came to improving the damage done by knee osteoarthritis.

Here are a couple of reports on the study:

Rheumatology.org

DrMarkKemenoshAndAssociates.com

This is the final paragraph of the study:
These results confirm that the combination of chondroitin sulfate plus glucosamine hydrochloride has proven non-inferior to celecoxib in reducing pain. No differences were found for stiffness, functional limitations, joint swelling and effusion after 6 months of treatment in patients with severe pain from osteoarthritis of the knee, and the combination has a similar good safety profile and tolerability. This combination of SYSADOA appears to be beneficial in the treatment of patients with osteoarthritis of the knee and should offer a safe and effective alternative for those patients with cardiovascular or gastrointestinal conditions.
SYSADOA stands for symptomatic slow acting drugs for osteoarthritis.

Why would anyone run the risk of medications that can cause serious cardiovascular trouble like strokes and heart attacks, or gastrointestinal complications like ulcers and intestinal bleeding?

Go natural every time!

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Here is where I close off with a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting the cramped quarters in a house located on Ninth Street at Third Avenue.
TUESDAY, December 2, 1975

I didn't rouse till after 4:00 a.m.; and even so, I was fortunate, for I felt it was only around 1:00 a.m.; I was dreaming.

I did my 12 laps in foot-slipping slush with my shirt wide open so as not to irritate my left teat any further; it was raining lightly, but mild.

The postal strike is into day 43.

I went to Safeway to shop:  I spent $10.68.  As I was about to enter, I am sure Karen from last year's BJRT course was in line.

I lied down from about 11:50 a.m. - 1:10 p.m., sleeping an hour, anyway.

I picked up more sleep when I lied down from about 3:00 p.m. - 5:00 p.m.

Happy Days was very touching and warming tonight; Joanie (Erin Moran) developed a crush on Potsie after he sang "Put Your Head on My Shoulder" to her in practice; the show didn't carry on unnecessarily foolishly with this sort of development, and I'm glad to have been able to watch it.

I finished reading Red Moon and Black Mountain; excellent.  I've begun William Beckford's Vathek.  

All the resting I've been doing was directed toward preparing me for midnight's Ulysses Against the Son of Hercules; but after retiring soon after 10:00 p.m. and having difficulty falling asleep, I decided to forgo the show.
I would often have ferociously sore nipples from extended running due to the fabric of whatever top I had on rubbing across them.  I eventually just ran topless.  My runs at this time were being done at the New Westminster Secondary School track at hours in which I was unlikely to be bothered with other people. 

I had thought that the postal strike had ended!  Did I previously say so mistakenly?

It was back in November and December of 1974 that I had attended a full-time eight-week course called Basic Job Readiness Training (BJRT), but I can't exactly recall who "Karen" may have been.

Okay, now I must hustle and prepare a bit of supper ─ I do not want to miss out and end up with another hangover tomorrow morning!

Thursday, December 1, 2016

💀 ☠ Prediabetes: A Ruse to Sell More Diabetes Medication? │ The Evils of Monsanto

That element within me that I rue held sway last night, and it may have been 1:30 a.m. or even later before I made it to bed ─ perhaps it was even after 2:00 a.m.

I am a ruin for it today.

Doubling the hell was the third consecutive day-long presence of my youngest step-son Pote, plus his girlfriend.  They finally took off in Pote's older brother Tho's car, but not until nearly 4:00 p.m.

There was by then nothing of consequence left to my day.

I dug out the Christmas lights that I wanted to string up today, but it was too gloomy by then ─ it will all have to await tomorrow.

I feel such a prisoner in my own home, smothered by a working 19-year-old who rarely contributes to household expenses, and whose girlfriend is here more hours a week than is Tho or even my younger brother Mark.

I cannot live this life of mine for much more.  I am already 67; if I could know that nothing will have changed and improved before the time of my 70th birthday, then I would bring on my end.  This just is not worth it.

But abruptly switching topics: as I posted yesterday, it grew exceptionally chill in the latter afternoon, and it only worsened with the evening.  But this morning, milder temperatures prevailed, and there was no frost to show for the cold.

And now ─ since at least as early as 4:00 p.m. ─ it  is lightly raining.

I have nothing worthwhile to speak of this day, so I am just going to post a few more photos that I think my wife Jack took on October 29 (2016) in Bangkok ─ this article at aljazeera.com explains what I am referring to:  Thais flock to Grand Palace to pay respects to late king.

For anyone who does not know, my wife left Canada the evening of October 24 and never returned until November 21 ─ she had gone back to see her mother and other family and friends.

Her family home is in Nong Soong, which is very near to Udon Thani.

I have yet to ask her if she and her family ─ and whomever else may have gone with them ─ were able to get free passage on a train or something for that special day to pay tribute to King Bhumibol Adulayadej's urn in the Grand Palace.

Here are some more of the photos that Jack took ─ I posted seven yesterday.  We lead off with two photos of Jack's older sister Penn:


This next two photos are of my wife Jack:


My wife Jack at the left in the following photo, but I cannot certainly identify anyone else:


My wife Jack's sister Penn again:


My wife Jack again:


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Just yesterday I mentioned that I had read that over a third of Americans are prediabetic; yet I have also read that prediabetes is not an official disease or condition.

It is being lamented that only about 50% of U.S. physicians screen for the so-called condition:

Consumer.HalthDay.com

Could this report really have the reason why there is such a strong push to have doctor's screening for prediabetes?:

HSIonline.com

On top of the recommendations given at the end of that report, I would add to just cut out the damned carbohydrates!

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It should be no news to you that Monsanto has put some horrible products onto the world market; and if it wasn't bad enough that Roundup's glyphosate is now in all of us ─ doing who-knows-what harm ─ the infernally ignorant political powers have approved yet another similar killer:  the dicamba-based herbicide XtendiMax.

EcoWatch.com

Mercola.com

These suggestions on self-protection were offered by NewMarketHealth.com, but too few of us would ever embrace that first item ─ most of us are too apathetic or timid:
XtendiMax may be a done deal as far as our so-called federal watchdogs are concerned, but there are still three important things you can do to keep yourself and your family as safe as possible:

#1: If you live in a rural area, do some investigating to see where the nearest farms are to your child's school, athletic fields and playgrounds. Remember, this chemical doesn't just stay put, but can drift into neighboring areas. Contact your local school board and legislators to demand buffer zones around local schools.

#2: Stop buying food products that contain soy unless it's organic or has the "Non-GMO Project Verified" label.

#3: While we don't eat cotton, we do have to watch out for cottonseed oil, which is used in all kinds of foods, especially nuts. For example, instead of buying peanuts cooked in cottonseed oil, get ones roasted in the shell.

XtendiMax won't be going away anytime soon. So once again, keeping ourselves and our family safe is in our own hands.
With businessman Donald Trump in charge of the U.S. Presidency, it is not looking good for those concerned about an organic environment and diet.  The following are just three teasers to articles published at OrganicConsumers.org:
Revolutionary Times?

If ever conditions were ripe for revolution, that time is now—especially for anyone who cares about their health, and the health of planet earth.

President-Elect Donald Trump’s short lists for his environment and agriculture cabinet appointments are dominated by entrenched D.C. insiders, career politicians and industry lobbyists. Not one of these proposed "leaders" supports policies that would lead to healthier food, a cleaner environment or a cooler planet.

So much for “draining the swamp.” And so much for an easy road to forward progress on food, ag and climate policy during the next four years under our future fast-food leader.

We've outlined six of the reasons we'll need to ramp up the #ConsumerRevolution under the Trump Administration.

A word of warning. The new crop of Monsanto's minions in the Trump administration have rebranded Monsanto's pesticide- and chemical-intensive degenerative agriculture "American" agriculture. Don't be surprised if they brand you "anti-American" for criticizing it.
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Wrong Direction

Are you a fan of pesticide-free food and clean water? Think your tax dollars should subsidize organic regenerative agriculture, not Monsanto’s toxic degenerative agriculture? Then you won't like the direction things are headed under the Trump administration.

Here’s what we know so far about President-Elect Donald Trump’s picks for leadership posts at the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) and the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA): Based on their track records, Trump’s appointees will likely let companies like Monsanto dictate food, agriculture and environmental policy.

The only thing standing between Monsanto and near-total control of the USDA and EPA? The U.S. Senate, whose job it is to approve about 1,100 presidential nominees before Trump’s cast of characters can step into their new posts. Discouraged or not, it's our job to pressure the Senate to reject any appointee who won't commit to doing his or her job—which is to protect public health, not Monsanto.
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It's Time

We can follow the example of those who remembered that the role of an activist is not to navigate systems of oppressive power with as much integrity as possible, but rather to confront and take down those systems. – Derrick Jensen, activist and author

As we head into 2017, all signs point to the majority of our elected federal policymakers chomping at the bit to give corporations free rein over everything from approving more pesticides, to giving corporations a blank check to poison and pollute, to pretty much blessing all manner of corporate corruption.

If we sound angry about that, you’re right. We are angry. And motivated. Really really motivated.

With each new announcement or prediction about who Trump will entrust with the future of this planet, our determination to fight back—in the marketplace, in our own small communities and right on up into the halls of Congress—intensifies.

We are facing a mountain of issues that will demand immediate attention and decisive action. We will need you. We will need your financial support. And we will increasingly be calling on you to not just fight this battle from behind your computer screens—necessary, but on its own, not enough—but to come out, in person, to help us unite the many single-issue movements around our common goals. This, we believe, is our only hope to address the many, and dire, challenges that lie ahead.
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I  must close off now ─ and here to lead out with is a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting the cramped quarters in a house situated on Ninth Street at Third Avenue.

The evening prior to this entry, I had gotten to bed just before 8:30 p.m.
MONDAY, December 1, 1975

I got up about 3:15 a.m.; earlier I had a WD involving getting off while seated in the rear of some sort of assembly after a vulgar dame seated herself on me and did her thing; she was in pretty bad shape, and I was left with a vile taste in my mouth not entirely the result of a dash of oralism.

Apparently the weather office listed us with 22-cm (9 inches) of snow, a record even for the entire month of November.

I left about 4:00 a.m. to do a rigorous dozen laps in the stuff, experiencing a friction-caused burning left pap as a victim of a constant drizzle.

I heard that our previous snow record was 6 inches in 1955; come to think of it, that was the year I started school.

I was first at the laundromat, tho one older fella came in later; nothing was of interest in the comic section.

I forgot to mention that we had, Sunday a.m. I believe, an earthquake of 4.5; I never noticed, nor did dad.

I shopped at Woodward's for a TV Guide, 2 jars of Sunny Jim peanut butter ($1.39 apiece), and 20 lbs. of Millstream whole wheat flour ($3.69). 
I next picked up my $170 welfare cheque, and cashed it.  As I as leaving, I saw Leo but decided to walk by; however, he greeted me, so I spoke with him awhile, labouring on the pumping; he was having some cash traced that never showed up from Kelowna.

From there I went to the health food store where I picked up 2 free Alive magazines, a jar of vitamin C (360 x 150mg at $9), 26ozs sea salt (38¢) which is far cheaper than table HCl, 24ozs sunflower seeds ($1.96; at Kennedy Heights this would have been $1.80), 16ozs flaxseed (69¢), and 16ozs sesame seeds ($1.32).

The posties may not be awork again till the end of the week.

I lied down from 2:30 p.m. - 4:30p.m., getting some deep sleep.

This night was the first occasion on which I actually ate some decent bread; my Saturday effort.

Due to some TV watching, I won't be in bed till 9:30 p.m.
The "WD" was a 'wet dream,' something I have not enjoyed in a few decades.

The early running I did was at the New Westminster Secondary School track.  Over the years, I often suffered burning nipples from the friction of whatever top I was wearing.  It got to the point where I just ran topless ─ even in the Winter, I would run a lap or two to warm up, and then ditch the top.

I believe that the laundromat was on Sixth Avenue, near the public library.  I cannot recall which store it was that I would check for the latest comic books. 

Woodward's was on Sixth Avenue right where the Royal City Centre Mall is now.

I was employed one day a week through an incentives or initiatives project in place between my employer and New Westminster social services.  As a result of being in that programme, I was entitled to whatever was the going monthly rate of social assistance for a single person, plus some stipend for working. 

I cannot say that I recall "Leo" ─ evidently I was having to work at keeping the conversation going.  That Royal Bank where we met up was on Columbia Street.

I cannot recall where the health food store was.  The Kennedy Heights health food store was out in Delta ─ back then, at the intersection of Scott Road (120th Street) & 88th Avenue (Kennedy Road).

The postal employees had been striking for at least 40 days, and it had just ended ─ but there was still no mail delivery service. 

The "decent bread" I enjoyed was of my own making ─ everything was from scratch.

And so my day 41 years ago.

I am really looking forward to some drinks, beginning as soon as I have something to eat at 8:00 p.m.

Why do I cause myself days like this?  I need to be sensible and get directly to bed after finishing my evening of T.V.

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Intermittent Fasting and Cancer Prevention │ Study Claims Blood Pressure and Statin Medications Do Not Increase Cognitive Decline │ Why a High-Calorie Diet Is Difficult to Break

As reported yesterday, my wife Jack showed up around 4:00 p.m. and was soon napping; and later she took both of her sons (and the youngest one's girlfriend) out to supper somewhere ─ I declined to go.

They returned with some leftovers.  I had a little of those later in the evening, along with a stalk each of kale and red-stemmed chard (it tasted almost like a beet stalk) ─ gotta do what I can to keep my gut biota happy!

Despite her nap, Jack went to bed before my working younger brother Mark did that evening.  After he retired to his bedroom, I soon turned off the T.V., but must have gotten involved with something here at my computer, for it seems to me that it was just after midnight when I joined Jack in bed.

I had a dream-riddled night, often finding myself awake and trying to rearrange my posture to encourage sleep's return.  Some nasal clogging figured into the complexity of it all.

As I was typing that paragraph, a snatch of dream just touched my recollection, and then faded entirely away.  The only bit of dream that I do recall involved what amounted to a lifting of all erectile limitations ─ a turn of events that I rather eagerly shared with Jack in the dream.

Anyway, I started my day just after 8:00 a.m.

It was raining with considerable intensity, and did so for much of the morning.  It is now 1:45 p.m., and I don't think the rain has ever entirely ceased.

My thoughts went out to my brother Mark who drives a large cargo truck, making pick-ups and deliveries throughout the day.

My youngest step-son Pote was alone in bed this morning ─ he must have taken his girlfriend away earlier.  But late in the morning, he drove off and brought her back home again.

I spent the morning compiling content into a new post I began yesterday at one of my six hosted websites.  I never expected to be able to do a full day's effort, but I did ─ Jack never got up until well into the noon-hour.

I had left my computer on overnight just in case she wanted to use it for her Facebook account, and it was apparent that she had.  She is a very troubled sleeper.

She headed off early this afternoon with Pote and Priyanka ─ I know not where.  But it has given me the opportunity to commence this post.

By the way, yesterday I stated that my AdSense account had accumulated nothing that day as of the commencement of my blog post, but the day ended with a showing of 3¢.  Today thus far:  the typical 1¢.

However, I received notification this morning that Skimlinks deposited $11.77 to my PayPal account.  I believe that this is the first time that I have ever built up enough funds in my Skimlinks account balance to merit a payout ─ and I have had an account with them for several years.

The payment is nice to have received, but it's clear that I'll not be getting an actual second income anytime soon.

On an entirely different matter, Jack ─ who left the evening of October 24 to visit her mother and family back in Nong Soong, Thailand; and only returned here to Canada on November 21 ─ may have been in Bangkok with her family on October 29 for a viewing of the late king's urn.

You can read about this event at Reuters.comThais gather at palace to view late king's funeral urn

I never thought to ask her about it, darn it!

Here are the first seven photos that she may have taken there:


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I have already recently included information on the benefits of intermittent fasting where cancer prevention is concerned, but let's do so again.

I caution that there is no need to be dismissive just because the people studied were women who had experienced breast cancer.  I am confident that any cancer would likely react to fasting similarly:

Newsmax.com

BreastCancer.org

Medscape.com

HSIonline.com

I nearly do intermittent fasting anyway ─ in fact, I would be, apart from the drinks that follow my evening meal, and then my morning hot beverage that is well-sweetened and creamed (usually with liquid whipping cream).

Of late, I usually eat a light supper that may extend from 8:00 p.m. to 8:20 p.m.  I then have three or so ounces of hard liquor and usually three cans of strong (8% alcohol) beer over the remainder of my evening while watching T.V.

That hot beverage is first thing in my morning.  But my first actual meal may not be until the early afternoon.  Consequently, where solid food is concerned, I may go 17 hours without chewing any actual food.

Still, those various liquids do disqualify me as an intermittent faster, I realize.

😎😎😎😎😎😎😎

My stance on medications is clear, I think ─ I want nothing to do with any, and could never recommend anyone to take them in place of researching alternative solutions.

An extensive review of medications for lowering blood pressure and cholesterol found that ─ over 5.6 years ─ there was no difference in the degree of cognitive decline of those seniors taking the medications compared to seniors who took none.

I think that it was expected that there would be less cognitive decline in the seniors on medications, which rather baffles me.

These reports on the research are not too easy a read, and I rather feel that I have wasted my time digging into the topic:

TCTMD.com

CardioBrief.org

MDedge.com

At least the researchers are tickled that no one can claim that the medications actually caused any cognitive decline ─ a finding that I find suspect.

But that's me, isn't it?

😎😎😎😎😎😎😎

I have just read of a study published this past Spring that involved mice that were encouraged to overeat for a number of weeks. 

They became good at it.

Apparently there is a hormone that is produced in the cells of the small intestine; called uroguanylin, the hormone typically helps signal to the brain when we are full. 

When too many calories are consumed for too long a period of time, production of uroguanylin drops right off.  And it did not matter in the study if the mice were obese or thin overeaters ─ as long as excess calories were being consumed, the hormone's production was stalled, and the mice's brains were not being properly informed of being full.

Philly.com

MedicalNewsToday.com

It seems to me that this is another instance of where intermittent fasting could prove invaluable.

That first reference claimed that the "mice...ate a high-fat diet for 14 weeks" for purposes of the study.

Well, I referred to the study, and saw that the young mice were allowed to eat as much as they liked anytime they wanted from the ages of six weeks until they were 20 weeks of age. 

And then they were fed the following diet.
  • Diet 5010:  12.7% calories from fat, 58.5% calories from carbohydrates and 28.8% calories from protein
  • Diet 58Y1:  61.6% calories from fat, 20.3% calories from carbohydrates and 18.1% calories from protein
In studies of reversible uroguanylin loss, mice were either maintained on Diet 5010 or Diet 58Y1 for 18 weeks, or placed on Diet 58Y1 for 14 weeks and then switched back to Diet 5010 for 4 weeks. In studies with the ob/ob strain, mice were either allowed ad libitum feeding or restricted to 3 g day of Diet 5010 for 6 weeks.
In nutritional studies, ad libitum denotes providing an animal free access to feed or water, thereby allowing the animal to self-regulate intake according to its biological needs.

I find the overall description somewhat unclear.  Nevertheless, Diet 5010 is most definitely a high-carbohydrate diet ─ ideal for getting a human fat. 

Diet 58Y1 is high-fat, but we don't know what the fat source was.  If it was primarily trans fat, then it sure was not a healthy diet.  But the carbohydrate component equaled or exceeded the amount of protein.

For people, weight-loss seems to result on a high-fat (and very low-carbohydrate) diet comprised of saturated fats and healthy plant-derived fats such as coconut and virgin olive oils.

In fact, I seem to recall that we ought to try and limit our carbohydrates (in terms of calories) to 20% of our diet, with fats anywhere from 50% to 70% of our diet.

I personally do not like the idea of eating a 70% fat diet with 20% carbohydrates, because that would mean I would only have room for 10% of my calories from protein.  My liking would be to have the protein exceed the carbohydrates. 

But that's me ─ and I am vastly digressing. 

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The rain did die off in the early afternoon, but it has become drastically colder out there.  My brother Mark had said last evening that he had heard we might have snow flurries by the weekend due to a cold front that is coming.

My wife Jack left a few minutes after 4:00 p.m. to return to Vancouver, and I of course saw her off ─ it was almost miserably cold out there.

I actually got a token good-bye kiss out of her!  I guess we've been comfortable company for one another since she has been home.

Here is where I close with a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting the rather cramped little affair in a house located on Ninth Street at Third Avenue.

My big plan for the day was a hike out to 6038 Imperial Street in Burnaby to the apartment building where my father Hector was living with his girlfriend Maria Fadden.
SUNDAY, November 30, 1975

I got up at 6:30 a.m.

The ground has a couple inches of snow.

While watching TV last night, perhaps 8:10 p.m., a news bulletin said the postal strike was tentatively over; its 40th day!  But there may be no deliveries yet for a few days, even if it is over.

I am going to take some of my bread and some comics, as well as some tissue, over to dad's when I leave shortly before 10:00 a.m.

David was knocking as I readied to leave, and I think he surely knew I was here.

We easily received a half foot of snow.

It was comforting being at dad's, and I ate a  hearty spuddy chicken stew supper.

I lent dad $10.

They raved over my bread, so I wrote out the recipe as best as I remembered it at Marie's insistence.

I left perhaps 5:40 p.m., intending to shower and retire, and forget about TV; but after coming home, and paying my rent, I lost some of this resolve.

So I watched some TV; but I shall be in bed before 8:30 p.m.
I had baked bread the previous day ─ yeast-raised, and entirely from scratch.

The tissue was probably bathroom tissue.  My mother Irene Dorosh worked as an evening office janitress at Scott Paper (now Kruger Inc.) in New Westminster.  She often came across veritable windfalls of rolls of tissue that had been discarded because they had been selected as part of a tissue-control inspection, or else they were faulty culls.

My old friend Philip David Prince lived relatively nearby my room in New Westminster, so I usually tried to avoid his lengthy visits.  It didn't seem to me to be much of an inconvenience to him by doing so.  And with my trip all set to go, I didn't want to have him holding me up just because he was bored.

When my father was sober, he was the dearest man.  I loved his company ─ he was a comfort to be with.

Unfortunately, I never knew what I would find when I visited him and Marie.

Anyway, after that visit, I most likely hiked back to my room.  I seldom used a bus if the distance was reasonable for me to walk.