We need to talk more about PMS and hormonal issues -- not as an excuse for bad behavior but to demand that more resources be allocated towards medical research into female cycles and hormones and their effects on women...so that there can be SAFE, non-cancer-causing treatments for hormonal irregularities.
The state of medical understanding about hormones and their function and effects on women is so deficient, it would BLOW YOUR MIND.
As late as the 1990s, doctors were prescribing hormone replacement therapy (HRT) to women to counteract menopause-related symptoms. In one series of studies on HRT, the evidence that HRT CAUSED breast cancer was *so strong,* the researches had to cancel the studies because they could not ethically continue them.
When I was having fibroid-related hormone rushes and spikes, I regulated the swings very effectively by eating soy products (a mild estrogen substitute that *reduced* the effects of estrogen rushes on me and also progesterone cream derived from yams.
The estrogen in pharmaceutical HRT is derived from HORSE PISS. It was named "Premarin."
Get it -- Pre-MARE-in. Unreal what Big Pharm subjects us to. And too many doctors buy into drugs uncritically cuz the sales reps give them gifts and kiss the doctors' butts. It's a real racket, and we've got to protect ourselves from it by arming ourselves with as much knowledge as possible.
http://philadelphia.craigslist.org/forums/?ID=88022797
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Fighting Fibroid Symptoms With Diet & Natural Treatments
In the time leading up to my fibroid removal surgery, I had very little energy. Just a trip shopping or to the Botanic Gardens with mom would leave me very tired and cranky. In the last couple months before surgery, I felt very weak. Just one drink of alcohol would WIPE ME OUT.
I didn't realize how weak and sick I felt until after the surgery, when I went back to feeling normal again. I had totally forgotten what normal felt like.
It creeps up on you over time, so it can really fool you. I was probably anemic and should have been taking an iron supplement to make up for the blood loss.
I did make some changes in my diet and started taking certain vitamins:
Diet change was the "No white carbs diet." Low fat, nothing fried, no sugary sodas, no fruit juice, nothing with high fructose corn syrup.
Lots of fruits and veggies. Dried fruits, preserves, honey and molasses were all fine. No white flour or wheat gluten. Subbed instead with Wasa Bread, rice wafers, brown rice, and that cool German bread that has no wheat gluten in it.
At least one dose of something with soy in it every day -- Soy yogurt, edamame, tofu, etc. That controls estrogen naturally by occupying estrogen receptors in your bod. Fools your body into not producing so much estrogen.
Supplements:
Evening primrose oil
Vitamin E & C (combined in one pill)
Vitamin B Complex
Calcium & Magnesium (combined in one pill)
Flax Seed Oil (Omega 6 & 3)
Should have included an iron supplement.
I'd take them at breakfast, lunch and dinner, which also assured me of getting plenty of hydration.
I also used Progesterone cream (derived from Sweet Potatoes); you can get this at any Health Food Store.
All the above was recommended in a book Susan M. Lark, MD, who specializes in fibroids, endometriosis and other hormonally-related maladies.
I didn't realize how weak and sick I felt until after the surgery, when I went back to feeling normal again. I had totally forgotten what normal felt like.
It creeps up on you over time, so it can really fool you. I was probably anemic and should have been taking an iron supplement to make up for the blood loss.
I did make some changes in my diet and started taking certain vitamins:
Diet change was the "No white carbs diet." Low fat, nothing fried, no sugary sodas, no fruit juice, nothing with high fructose corn syrup.
Lots of fruits and veggies. Dried fruits, preserves, honey and molasses were all fine. No white flour or wheat gluten. Subbed instead with Wasa Bread, rice wafers, brown rice, and that cool German bread that has no wheat gluten in it.
At least one dose of something with soy in it every day -- Soy yogurt, edamame, tofu, etc. That controls estrogen naturally by occupying estrogen receptors in your bod. Fools your body into not producing so much estrogen.
Supplements:
Evening primrose oil
Vitamin E & C (combined in one pill)
Vitamin B Complex
Calcium & Magnesium (combined in one pill)
Flax Seed Oil (Omega 6 & 3)
Should have included an iron supplement.
I'd take them at breakfast, lunch and dinner, which also assured me of getting plenty of hydration.
I also used Progesterone cream (derived from Sweet Potatoes); you can get this at any Health Food Store.
All the above was recommended in a book Susan M. Lark, MD, who specializes in fibroids, endometriosis and other hormonally-related maladies.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Oh yeah, the Giants Won the Super Bowl!
It's February 24th, and I still can't believe the Giants won the Super Bowl. This is also the first time I've updated the blog in 2008, so I officially suck as a blogger. I appreciate the comments and kicks in the ass to update. I've missed you too, and I've really been derelict in doling out epiphanies, especially since I promised them on a Daily Basis. So here's just a little one....
Holy shit, the Giants won the Super Bowl. Their run to Glendale and victory over the 18-0 New England Patriots was the nicest surprise of 2007-2008. We figured, our team is young. Eli hasn't clicked yet. Our Super Bowl is 2-3 years away. Then we played the Patriots in the last game of the season and lost, 38-35, by only three points.
That meant we could beat them. Then we beat Tampa Bay in the first round of the playoffs. That's an improvement over last year right there. Then we beat fucking Dallas and make Terrell Owens cry. Giants fans are like, "Whoa. What the fuck is going on here?" This is also the 9th Road Win in a row.
Next we're playing the Packers, led by that old Geezer, Brett Favre, and we're starting to think, "Hey, you know, we can beat these assholes." In minus-4-degree weather I'm putting my money on the nubile young quarterback from New York, not on the 40+ brittle, beat-up senior citizen from Green Bay.
Apparently, Eli never got the memo that wearing gloves would screw up his ability to pass or drive the ball down the field. He missed the script where he got outplayed, outshown and beat by the grisled veteran, Favre. It was, after all, Brett's last chance to make the Super Bowl. This was supposed to be Brett's Year.
Or not. We beat the Packers. Holy shit we beat the Packers! Really beat them! With Tynes' field goal in overtime. In dramatic fashion. After missing two previous attempts, he boots a frozen football that in those temperatures must have felt like a lead balloon. Tynes' foot was totally black and blue after the game. He booted that bitch!
Wait a minute. What the fuck? We actually BEAT the Packers??? You mean we're going to the...no, wait. No wait.
No way, are you kidding me? The New York Giants are going to the motherfucken Super Bowl. We are not! Holy shit. We are going to the Super Bowl. These Giants are NFC Champs! Holy shit! What the fuck? This wasn't supposed to happen this year. This is great! This is fantastic!
Holy shit!
Against the Patriots, led by Mr. G.Q., Tom Brady. 18-0, on the verge of making history with a Perfect 19-0 Season. In the Giants' corner we have dorky baby brother Eli, with the childlike, aw shucks, Huckleberry Finn face.
Only by this time, I'm thinking, we can win this bitch. We have now had 10 road victories. In the last game of the regular season, we lost to these assholes by only 3 points. That means we can score on em...score high...and we can beat them.
In the playoffs, we beat every team that had beaten us in the regular season. And at the Super Bowl, the Giants would be the visiting team. We can beat these Beantown mother fuckers. 19-0 tee shirts and commemorative magazines my balls! No, no, no. I'm talking eleven consecutive road wins. We can win this.
The game starts, and the Giants D beats the living shit out of Brady. The O hangs onto the ball in the first period for more than ten minutes, breaking a Super Bowl record, and then scores a field goal at the end of the drive. At the time we bitched that it was only a field goal. But we had kept the Patriots from at least 2 driving opportunities, had we gone 3rd and out, and oh yeah, we won the Super Bowl by 3 points. Even though the Pats came out with a touchdown on their drive, that field goal right there won the game.
The difference between this game and the last game was that the Giants D showed up and dealt a brutal relentless beatdown on Brady. They threw him off his rhythm and held him to his lowest score all season. And once again, as he did throughout the playoffs, Eli played mistake-free ball. He didn't give up interceptions. Eli's arm, the one vaunted to be better-than-Peyton's, showed up. To whit, that gorgeous slow motion spiral to Plax in the end zone to win the game. But I've gotten ahead of myself.
The 2nd and 3rd quarters were a chess match. Each team keeping the other from scoring. Then just as the 4th quarter got under way, a couple of friends sitting in the Giants family member section at the Super Bowl, enlisted the aid of one team member's father, in finding a discrete place to release some of the ashes of Bob in Annapolis, a season-ticket holder, fixture at Giants training camp and legend to the members of BigBlueInteractive.com, who had died unexpectedly, early in the season, of complications following back surgery.
As Bob's ashes whirled around the edges of the field, magic started to happen. David Tyree catches his first touch done pass of the season. Brady, that prick, drives down the field and gets another touch down.
Eli has less than 3 minutes to drive down the field and get a touch down. No fucking way. Yeah, right, but thing is, Eli has always had this weird ability to go bonzai in the final 2+ minutes and come back to win games. Our young kid sticks around for the whole game. I look at my brother and say, "He can do this."
We are standing, pacing forwards and backwards in front of the sofa as Eli drives the Giants down the field. We're kind of swaying to and fro like we've just drunk 12 beers, and we're 50th on line for the Porta John.
Then Eli miraculously escapes that sack attempt and launches that crazy pass to Tyree, who with a Patriot hanging off of him, catches the ball with his fucking helmet! What the fuck was that??? And then comes that magnificent 13-yard pass to Plax.
There are still 35 seconds left. I'm not allowed to get happy until we stop Brady on this last campaign. BOOOOOM, Alford slaughters Brady. Well, why shouldn't he be allowed to get a good pop in? Rookies need to learn too. "Here, this is how to clobber a star quarterback. Isn't it fun?"
Patriots go for it on 4th down and blow it. One second left. Ball in Giants' possession. No we haven't won yet. What? What the fuck is Belichek doing? He's shaking Coughlin's hand and running off the field with one second on the clock? One last snap, Eli kneels.
Super Bowl Won. Not only the biggest upset in Super Bowl history, but also the Best Play in Super Bowl History. Best Super Bowl Game ever.
Unfuckingbelievable.
Holy shit, the Giants won the Super Bowl. Their run to Glendale and victory over the 18-0 New England Patriots was the nicest surprise of 2007-2008. We figured, our team is young. Eli hasn't clicked yet. Our Super Bowl is 2-3 years away. Then we played the Patriots in the last game of the season and lost, 38-35, by only three points.
That meant we could beat them. Then we beat Tampa Bay in the first round of the playoffs. That's an improvement over last year right there. Then we beat fucking Dallas and make Terrell Owens cry. Giants fans are like, "Whoa. What the fuck is going on here?" This is also the 9th Road Win in a row.
Next we're playing the Packers, led by that old Geezer, Brett Favre, and we're starting to think, "Hey, you know, we can beat these assholes." In minus-4-degree weather I'm putting my money on the nubile young quarterback from New York, not on the 40+ brittle, beat-up senior citizen from Green Bay.
Apparently, Eli never got the memo that wearing gloves would screw up his ability to pass or drive the ball down the field. He missed the script where he got outplayed, outshown and beat by the grisled veteran, Favre. It was, after all, Brett's last chance to make the Super Bowl. This was supposed to be Brett's Year.
Or not. We beat the Packers. Holy shit we beat the Packers! Really beat them! With Tynes' field goal in overtime. In dramatic fashion. After missing two previous attempts, he boots a frozen football that in those temperatures must have felt like a lead balloon. Tynes' foot was totally black and blue after the game. He booted that bitch!
Wait a minute. What the fuck? We actually BEAT the Packers??? You mean we're going to the...no, wait. No wait.
No way, are you kidding me? The New York Giants are going to the motherfucken Super Bowl. We are not! Holy shit. We are going to the Super Bowl. These Giants are NFC Champs! Holy shit! What the fuck? This wasn't supposed to happen this year. This is great! This is fantastic!
Holy shit!
Against the Patriots, led by Mr. G.Q., Tom Brady. 18-0, on the verge of making history with a Perfect 19-0 Season. In the Giants' corner we have dorky baby brother Eli, with the childlike, aw shucks, Huckleberry Finn face.
Only by this time, I'm thinking, we can win this bitch. We have now had 10 road victories. In the last game of the regular season, we lost to these assholes by only 3 points. That means we can score on em...score high...and we can beat them.
In the playoffs, we beat every team that had beaten us in the regular season. And at the Super Bowl, the Giants would be the visiting team. We can beat these Beantown mother fuckers. 19-0 tee shirts and commemorative magazines my balls! No, no, no. I'm talking eleven consecutive road wins. We can win this.
The game starts, and the Giants D beats the living shit out of Brady. The O hangs onto the ball in the first period for more than ten minutes, breaking a Super Bowl record, and then scores a field goal at the end of the drive. At the time we bitched that it was only a field goal. But we had kept the Patriots from at least 2 driving opportunities, had we gone 3rd and out, and oh yeah, we won the Super Bowl by 3 points. Even though the Pats came out with a touchdown on their drive, that field goal right there won the game.
The difference between this game and the last game was that the Giants D showed up and dealt a brutal relentless beatdown on Brady. They threw him off his rhythm and held him to his lowest score all season. And once again, as he did throughout the playoffs, Eli played mistake-free ball. He didn't give up interceptions. Eli's arm, the one vaunted to be better-than-Peyton's, showed up. To whit, that gorgeous slow motion spiral to Plax in the end zone to win the game. But I've gotten ahead of myself.
The 2nd and 3rd quarters were a chess match. Each team keeping the other from scoring. Then just as the 4th quarter got under way, a couple of friends sitting in the Giants family member section at the Super Bowl, enlisted the aid of one team member's father, in finding a discrete place to release some of the ashes of Bob in Annapolis, a season-ticket holder, fixture at Giants training camp and legend to the members of BigBlueInteractive.com, who had died unexpectedly, early in the season, of complications following back surgery.
As Bob's ashes whirled around the edges of the field, magic started to happen. David Tyree catches his first touch done pass of the season. Brady, that prick, drives down the field and gets another touch down.
Eli has less than 3 minutes to drive down the field and get a touch down. No fucking way. Yeah, right, but thing is, Eli has always had this weird ability to go bonzai in the final 2+ minutes and come back to win games. Our young kid sticks around for the whole game. I look at my brother and say, "He can do this."
We are standing, pacing forwards and backwards in front of the sofa as Eli drives the Giants down the field. We're kind of swaying to and fro like we've just drunk 12 beers, and we're 50th on line for the Porta John.
Then Eli miraculously escapes that sack attempt and launches that crazy pass to Tyree, who with a Patriot hanging off of him, catches the ball with his fucking helmet! What the fuck was that??? And then comes that magnificent 13-yard pass to Plax.
There are still 35 seconds left. I'm not allowed to get happy until we stop Brady on this last campaign. BOOOOOM, Alford slaughters Brady. Well, why shouldn't he be allowed to get a good pop in? Rookies need to learn too. "Here, this is how to clobber a star quarterback. Isn't it fun?"
Patriots go for it on 4th down and blow it. One second left. Ball in Giants' possession. No we haven't won yet. What? What the fuck is Belichek doing? He's shaking Coughlin's hand and running off the field with one second on the clock? One last snap, Eli kneels.
Super Bowl Won. Not only the biggest upset in Super Bowl history, but also the Best Play in Super Bowl History. Best Super Bowl Game ever.
Unfuckingbelievable.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Egg Nog + Pumpkin + CuisineArt + Pumpkin Pie Spice equals
OMG why haven't I been doing this all my life? Thank gawd I bought two quarts of nog. I need this in an IV Drip STAT!!!
The 2007 Feeding Frenzy is so ON.
Plus Mom brought lamb chops, a cauliflower and Black Bean Soup. Plus I've got stewing beef chili and corn. And fixins for Tater Tot Casserole, including chopped turkey, cheddar cheese, mushroom soup, salsa, sour cream pickled jalapenas and wieners. Ice cold milk and oreos and salt & vinegar chips. And Beef Jerky.
And if you really wanted a peanut butter and fluff sandwich, you can have that too. Or Roast beef and provolone on rye, with some sandwich pepperoni, thin-sliced, to give it some kick. And roasted peppers or Sun-dried tomatoes....
Whatevs...The 2007 Feeding Frenzy is in its final stretch.
And if you really wanted a peanut butter and fluff sandwich, you can have that too. Or Roast beef and provolone on rye, with some sandwich pepperoni, thin-sliced, to give it some kick. And roasted peppers or Sun-dried tomatoes....
Whatevs...The 2007 Feeding Frenzy is in its final stretch.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
2 Girls 1 Cup: Holy Shit
Well, thanks to those bastids on BBI, I mustered the courage (or maybe the insanity) to go ahead and watch the 2 girls 1 cup video.
HOLY SH*T THAT WAS FLOCKING GROSS!!! Who the flock does that??? Are there actually people out there who actually get turned on by that kind of thing??? How revolting!!!
And what kind of sh*t was that??? Who the hell sh*ts like that? It didn't look like sh*t. It looked like chocolate mousse.
And who can sh*t on command like that for the camera? Were they sitting around all day in that little break room, waiting for that chick to be ready to make a big sh*t??? I think not!
I think they must have had her do that pre-colonoscopy thing the night before, sh*t her brains out into a toilet (TYVM), drink that blue-cleansing stuff, and then after she was empty and germ-free, they took a freakin cake frosting squeezy bag and injected the chocolate mousse up her butt.
Cuz NO WAY does anybody eat that much sh*t and not flocken die!
And people are afraid to eat packaged spinach? Cuz there may be traces of cow dung in it? No WAY did that chick eat that much....it can't be real.
And OBTW, the reaction videos on YouTube are HILARIOUS!!!
HOLY SH*T THAT WAS FLOCKING GROSS!!! Who the flock does that??? Are there actually people out there who actually get turned on by that kind of thing??? How revolting!!!
And what kind of sh*t was that??? Who the hell sh*ts like that? It didn't look like sh*t. It looked like chocolate mousse.
And who can sh*t on command like that for the camera? Were they sitting around all day in that little break room, waiting for that chick to be ready to make a big sh*t??? I think not!
I think they must have had her do that pre-colonoscopy thing the night before, sh*t her brains out into a toilet (TYVM), drink that blue-cleansing stuff, and then after she was empty and germ-free, they took a freakin cake frosting squeezy bag and injected the chocolate mousse up her butt.
Cuz NO WAY does anybody eat that much sh*t and not flocken die!
And people are afraid to eat packaged spinach? Cuz there may be traces of cow dung in it? No WAY did that chick eat that much....it can't be real.
And OBTW, the reaction videos on YouTube are HILARIOUS!!!
Saturday, December 1, 2007
My RingTone is "Enter Sandman"
This means that every time my cell phone rings, that unmistakeable bass chord riff prods my emotional muscle memory into expecting Mariano Rivera to jog in from the bullpen and nail down a Yankee win. That means I am in the 5th row of the Upper Deck, just above the Yankee dugout, at Yankee Stadium, full of Carvel, Cokes and Italian sausage, peeing my pants.
Only I'm not there, I'm at home, in my office, guzzling coffee and writing letters and making phone calls. Then, suddenly, the riff starts, and my heart thinks Mariano is going to come running in from the kitchen. Plus, my muscle memory needs to get up, loft my right fist into the sky, Jeter-style, and start headbanging....
Often, I let the phone ring a while, so I can enjoy the buildup. If I get to the part where the crescendo happens, the place where you start head-banging with abandon, the call goes to voice mail. So I have to answer before I really lose it...which is kind of like something else that's like trying to hold back a sneeze.
So usually when I answer, I just start cracking up...because it's so ridiculous to have "Enter Sandman" play every time I get a phone call. And yet it's hilarious because I get to have these insane little "Woopie, woopie!" moments at odd times throughout my day.
Only I'm not there, I'm at home, in my office, guzzling coffee and writing letters and making phone calls. Then, suddenly, the riff starts, and my heart thinks Mariano is going to come running in from the kitchen. Plus, my muscle memory needs to get up, loft my right fist into the sky, Jeter-style, and start headbanging....
Often, I let the phone ring a while, so I can enjoy the buildup. If I get to the part where the crescendo happens, the place where you start head-banging with abandon, the call goes to voice mail. So I have to answer before I really lose it...which is kind of like something else that's like trying to hold back a sneeze.
So usually when I answer, I just start cracking up...because it's so ridiculous to have "Enter Sandman" play every time I get a phone call. And yet it's hilarious because I get to have these insane little "Woopie, woopie!" moments at odd times throughout my day.
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