I only hope my husband doesn’t think this would make an appropriate Valentine’s Day gift.
Tag Archives: Health
Need Extra Cash?
Need extra cash?
OK, I guess that was a trick question because, well who doesn’t?
In keeping with my newly assumed role of bringing you all the news you need to know , I will give you this profitable tip.
The Washington Post is reporting that you can earn up to $13 K anually. Anally.
Poop transplants are a real treatment that I’ve read actual medical journal articles about. The hypothesis is that our Western Culture (damn you McD’s!) has eliminated too much of the flora and fauna out of our GI tracts. The result is lots of people like me with bowel disease.
So scientists are looking at all kinds of ways to help.
One of the latest ideas is to repopulate the good bacteria. That’s the idea behind pro-biotics. They put back the good bacteria that overuse of antibiotics and other hazards of Western life have, ummm, eliminated.
One of those ways is through poop transplants. I kid you not.
At present, poop transplants are used only for treatment of poor suckers infected with c difficile* and e coli, particularly nasty bacteria that is really hard to get rid of. They are studying it in bowel diseases like my Crohn’s and colitis, but they haven’t yet flushed out all the problem issues.
So if you are really healthy and have good aim, you can earn some bucks while doing your business.
Washington Post. Notice how upright those treated people are
You know the worst thing about this for a Crohn’s patient? The knowledge that this isn’t the worst treatment imaginable. That goes to the one they were testing a few years ago under the same hypothesis — that our guts were too clean. With that treatment, they had you drink worm larvae. Yum.
I wonder if the researchers know about the whale in my last post.
*Thanks to my pals Kate Crimmins and Carrie Rubin. The article refs c diff; Ive read it is also used on e coli. So much shit; so many uses. So much money in the pot.
People My Age
It happens every year, try as I might to avoid it. Annually. At about the same time each year. On the same damn day, even.
Every bloomin’ year! What’s with that?
For the last 15 years, I’ve tried to avoid it. I just put my head down and muddled through the whole month. Looked forward to February.
Yeah, it’s my birthday. Ho hum. Everybody has one. Still, I figure I need to do something to mark it.
So to celebrate, I’m going to insert one of my very favorite birthday songs for those of us who are in their our post- years. The perfect song for the post-teens; post-Yuppies; post-childbearing, child rearing, post-careerists; post-menopausal; for the pre- and post-retirement set.
The perfect song for the pre-dead among us. And I do hope you, my dear bloggin’ buddy, are among us.
Ho hum. Where’s the wine?
Filed under Adult Traumas, Awards, Bat-shit crazy, Birthday, Bloggin' Buddies, Disgustology, Family, Farts, Health and Medicine, Hey Doc?, Holidays, Huh?, Humor, Mental Health
Barney Hatred
One day when Jacob was about 5 years old, John and I got a babysitter. We were alone driving down the road, when we saw a man in a Barney suit ahead of us, crossing the road. He was obviously heading to some lucky child’s birthday party. Hoo-hoo!
John slowed down, smirked, and turned to me and said “That is one brave man to cross the street in front of us.”
Google, Natch
We hated Barney. Jacob, at that age, loved him. He wanted to watch Barney all the time. Naturally we didn’t allow it, because really, who can handle that much Barney? We knew that too much Barney would damage our young son.
John and I we continued our day out, away from our son, with the Barney song, and thoughts of homicide, stuck in our heads. We were delighted.
We, like most parents, were relatively lucky, though. We could turn it off. We could say “no more Barney.” We could have banished Barney completely. We had control over the situation.
But this morning I read an article about someone who didn’t. Who couldn’t. Someone who was stuck, day after day, watching and listening to Barney. For TWELVE YEARS!
Today’s Washington Post has a wonderful article about Martin Pistorius, a South African man who fell into a coma at age 12. After several years, he began to emerge, but not in ways that let anybody know he was “there.”
His recovery began with Barney, the big purple dinosaur he was forced to watch on loop at the special care center where he spent his days, according to NPR.
…“I cannot even express to you how much I hated Barney” …
Pistorius decided he’d had enough and dedicated his thoughts to something that offered some modicum of control over his reality, such as telling time by tracking sunlight in a room.
As his mind improved and Pistorius learned to “reframe” and “reintepret” his “ugliest thoughts,” his health improved, too, according to NPR. By age, 26, he was able to use a computer to communicate, shocking his family.
I don’t want to give away all of it, but trust me: The article is fascinating. I think the book he wrote of his experience sounds like it is too.
It’s a wonderful story of revival. And, of course, proof, that when we hate Barney, we can achieve great things.
Please fall on your knees to me.
I could have added Barney video.
Pet Power!
What a terrific way to cheer up a kid in the hospital. I was 17 the first time I was hospitalized — it’s a terribly lonely place to be. So sharing some pictures of my Duncan is the least I can do.
Thanks, Tops, (of Life With The Top Down) for letting me know about it! Duncan pics on the way to Anthony!
Immediate Smile
This morning as I was trolling on Facebook I noticed that one of my friends posted an adorable photo of her two puppies Cosmo and Emma, but this time it was different. She included a well wishes to someone named Anthony. Hmm … further investigation was necessary.
After a few clicks I found out that her photos were actually part of a wonderful event Photo Doggies for Anthony. Anthony is a 16-year-old boy who is currently undergoing chemotherapy for acute lymphoblastic leukemia at the Phoenix Children’s Hospital.
As I was reading his story I found out that Anthony is a firm believer in the power of pet therapy and animal healing. I know my Peanut has wonderful nursing skills, so I can’t argue with that thought.
Therapy dogs are just not available every day for every patient, so some wonderful people in Anthony’s life came up with this incredible idea…
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Filed under Bloggin' Buddies, Childhood Traumas, Health and Medicine, Humor, Mental Health, Wild Beasts
FiftyFourandAHalf 