Category Archives: Health

Correlation Or Catastrophe?

Back at home after a long weekend at Baycon. Nice convention, good to get away. Unfortunately, had even worse nocturnal leg cramps than even the consistently BAD bouts I’ve been enduring for the last two or three weeks.

As part of my dietary regimen for other reasons I try to keep a food log, and this evening I was looking for anything that might jump out at me from the data. Is there possibly something I’m eating or when I’m eating it that’s making the leg cramps bad or worse some nights?

One possible suspect food which appeared was…

…chocolate.

I brought this horrific and terrifying observation to The Long Suffering Wife. She thought it would be a good piece of information if confirmed, because then we could control things and I wouldn’t have leg cramps any more.

Am I the only one who sees how backwards this logic is?

If chocolate is somehow causing my leg cramps and leaving me awake and screaming and sleepless night after night, that does NOT mean that the problem is solved! It means that when I’m laying there awake and screaming every night I’ll know what’s causing it!

I mean, c’mon! Let’s stop the crazy talk here!

(P.S. – there almost certainly is not any actual correlation here. There isn’t, there isn’t, THERE ISN’T!!)

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Another WE Build Lesson

My exercise/smart watch (a Garmin, not an Apple Watch) is very good at bugging me if I’m getting sedentary or not reaching my current daily walking/exercise goals. (Currently at about 8,000 steps per day.) It also is very good at handing out cheap rewards if I hit that goal. It vibrates to get my attention, then shows a brief fireworks show in celebration.

From yesterday’s WE Build, I learned new things about that Garmin.

  1. When you hit that goal about 08:30, you know it’s going to be a long, long day.
  2. When you hit that goal a second time in any given day (i.e., something like 16,000 steps) it goes off with fireworks again.
  3. Ditto for the third time…
  4. When you hit 4x your daily goal, it should tell you, “Jesus, are you trying to kill yourself? Sit down! Chill!!”

It doesn’t, but it should. My brain filled in the correct dialogue.

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Filed under Habitat For Humanity, Health, Paul

Some Days In Audit Season

When you run an accounting department (or worse, two), during audit & tax return season there are days when you need ice cream at the end of the day, regardless of your weight loss goals or A1C results.

Some days you need cookies.

Some days, you need both ice cream and cookies.

Tonight it’s Klondike bars and Chewy Chips Ahoy.

How did your day go?

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This Is My Surprised Face – December 28th

In my Twitter feed I follow the New York Times. (Big surprise!) Not only do I see news articles there, but also links to their travel, movie reviews, health, sports, and other articles.

Just now I saw a tweet with the headline, “Being a couch potato is worse for your health than you may have thought.” In short, the article from earlier this month says that a study indicates that if you sit around on your butt all day and then exercise, you get far fewer benefits from the exercise than if you’re moderately active during the day before you exercise.

That’s not so surprising, but I guess it’s good to actually do the study. They’ll be following up with different groups of people to see if the same applies to the 85% of the planet’s population which isn’t young, male, and white. (Before anyone gets all snarky, besides me of course, I understand the reason to start with a group that’s got as little variety as possible. It eliminates or at least reduces some of the variables that could be affecting the results. Once you have that baseline, then you can start doing studies to change one variable at a time.)

What caught my attention though was that headline in the tweet. “Being a couch potato is worse for your health than you may have thought.” Maybe it’s me, but I pretty much thought that being a couch potato put you on the fast track to an early death, so I’m not sure how much worse it could get.

I’m sure there are people who sit on the couch (or the bed, or the chair, or the floor, or whatever) all day AND smoke two packs a day AND pound back a six-pack of brewskies every day AND gorge themselves on a half-gallon of ice cream every day. Yes, that would be worse than just being a couch potato. Statistically I’m sure those people die forty years earlier than the rest of us, but that’s not what the headline is pointing to.

No, I’m wondering about the implied, “Sure, I’m a couch potatoe (sorry, channeling Dan Quayle there!) potato for fourteen hours a day, but that walk around the block with the dog every other day is going to keep me right up there with the Olympic decathlete who lives next door!”

I didn’t think about it for long. The New York Times’ tweets then went on to mention people and events from our current political and social malaise, where everyone’s not just allowed to believe in their own separate reality and facts, but they’re expected to.

To that extent, the findings of this report might help a few people, those who are still thinking on their own instead of gobbling up every bit of BS from every clickbait site out there on the internet. To the rest of us, well, the thing about having your own reality is that the Universe doesn’t care. Enjoy your couch and your early grave!

Me, I think I’ll make sure I get up and walk every time my watch barks at me tomorrow.

 

 

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Filed under Death Of Common Sense, Health

Notes From The Dark

Yesterday, when I showed y’all a big ugly bruise on my arm that I could not remember getting, one friend suggested that perhaps I had taken up sleep walking. My immediate response was to suggest that perhaps I should wear my step-counting smart watch to bed to see if it knew something in the morning that I didn’t.

While it’s possible I’m bouncing off the walls while sleeping,

I do know that I have other barely conscious nocturnal activities that leave morning mysteries.

Sometimes I find notes that I wrote to myself about really vivid dreams.

Occasionally these notes almost make sense if I can sort of remember bits of the dream, but if I can’t, I just have the cryptic note.

For example:

  • Olympics
  • Carrying huge stones
  • Blindfolded
  • We try it
  • Running down ramp to field
  • At other end of field we feel the trinkets
  • Then back but don’t drop stone
  • We got silver

Not a clue, folks. I’m glad to see that we won the silver, although I’ll always wonder how came we close to getting the gold.

Of course, it’s the “at other end of field we feel the trinkets” line that catapults this one into a class of its own. It made sense in its own dream-like way right up to there.

Now if I can find one of these notes that has an “OUCH!” on it…

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It Did Leave A Mark

I just have no stinkin’ clue what “it” was:

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That’s my right upper arm between my elbow and shoulder. It felt tender Monday morning, almost like I had gotten a shot there. (I hadn’t gotten a shot there.) Tuesday morning it was sore. Yesterday it was purple. Today the yellowish-green tinge set it.

I’m hardly in agony – it’s just a big bruise.

They mystery is that I have absolutely zero clues about what caused it. One would normally think that a collision with something or slamming into a doorway or being slugged with a baseball bat would leave a memory that would last at least a day or two.

Nada.

Zip.

Zilch.

Let’s see what color it is tomorrow!

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Just One More, Then I’ll Stop

In an advanced case, it’s called “addiction.”

Cigarettes. Alcohol. Heroin.

Some will kill you fast, some will kill you slowly but a lot more painfully. Yet a great majority of folks suffering from addictions of this sort find it next to impossible to stop, even knowing the consequences.

But we can get addicted to anything. Television. Video games. Sex. Food. Adrenaline.

Fortunately, most of those things are far less fatal, for the most part. You can get a fatal disease due to a sex addiction, and being an adrenaline addict can leave you broken and bleeding at the bottom of a cliff.

Other addictions are even less likely to directly be fatal, but they’re still frowned upon, especially in extreme cases.

The person who spends eight or nine hours a day watching television while ignoring their family needs help. The person who plays video games until 03:00 or later when they have to be up at 06:00 to get to work is going to be a wreck, and possibly an unemployed wreck.

What if it’s a “good” addiction? Who among us hasn’t pulled an all-nighter when the latest Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, or John Scalzi novel has just come out, knowing that we were going to be dead tired in the morning because of it. But I’ll just read one more chapter, then I’ll stop… Doing it when the new novel comes out once or twice a year is one thing, doing it a couple times a week is an addiction.

What if it’s a “good and necessary” addiction? What if we’ve finally gotten fed up with a certain situation and tonight was the night to dive in and start kicking asses and taking names? It might be a mess that’s built up in our garage or house, a mess on the computer that needs to be straightened out, or one of those “one of these days” projects that finally reaches a breaking point. Maybe it’s a writing project or something creative, which by it’s very nature should be “good.”

When you’re in your third or fourth hour and common sense is saying, “You really need to stop, wrap things up for the night, and get to bed,” while your fingers and primitive, addiction-saturated brain stem is saying, “One more, really, then I’ll stop,” then do you have a problem?

Well, you do that night. I would argue that it’s not a problem to give in and create, solve, and fix for a night here, a night there. Like all of the examples above, it’s a matter of moderation.

But I keep coming back to the “good” nature of certain addictive behavior. If you’ve had work piling up and you finally scream and leap (any other Kzin out there?) at it, is it a bad thing even if you do it four or five or six nights a week?

On the one hand, you’re making progress! You’re getting your book written, your clutter cleaned, your organization organized. These are all good things! But too much of anything is a good thing, no matter what Mae West said.

The point in the spectrum where it tips over from grit, resolve, and perseverance into madness and addiction changes as activities move from “bad” to “good.” That’s the key.

Staying up way too late to get something important (your college thesis or a novel) done is probably still “good” if you’re doing it five or even six days a week for a while. Getting passing out drunk five or even six days a week is definitely on the “bad” side.

Given that there’s this spectrum, which is probably at least a two-dimensional plot of good vs bad and acceptable vs forbidden, the final important question of the night is, “How do you know when you’re crossing the line?”

Forget fifty shades of grey, this behavioral calculus has infinite shading.

Thoughts?

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Reduced To This

Between the work, the “debate” (I’m not doing much political ranting here, but a quick look at my Twitter feed on the right side of the page should make it clear where I stand), a sore shoulder, and the worst night ever with the freakin’ nocturnal leg cramps (and zero vivid dreams as “reward”), I’ve been reduced to this:

What the hell were they thinking in the 80’s??

And there’s the connection. In the late 2040’s they’re going to look back at these debates and say, “What the hell were they thinking in the Twenty-Teens?!”

On the other hand, in the late 2040’s that hair will probably be back in style. We can only hope.

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Filed under Freakin' Idiots!, Health, Music, Video

Vivid Dreams & Nightly Torture

The nocturnal leg cramps are back. With a vengeance.

But this time there’s a twist. Perhaps related, perhaps not. Perhaps coincidental.

The dreams this week have been vivid, detailed, and unique. None of this “standing in front of a crowd naked” or “can’t find my classroom for the big final exam” stuff for me. Not even the more common (for me) recurring dreams.

Nope.

They’re almost full blown movies, albeit with the somewhat choppy plot lines. More like scenes from a full blown movie with some of the scenes in between missing. But there’s a story in there.

A giant starship, waking from cold sleep in a pod, stuffing the pod with dummies filled with explosives in case we’re caught by those chasing us. Getting to a huge, shiny, skyscraper-like city orbiting a gas giant. We’re the second colony ship here to follow them and see what they’ve built in the decades they’ve been there before us. But they’re horrified to find that we didn’t bring more advanced weapons, something to deal with the ships that are following us…

A scene out of some technothriller, a European city, some sort of plot or heist going on. Rooms full of computers and giant screens a la “War Games.” Not a need to shut down the computer but instead to convince them to keep it going. I’m with an agent of some kind, a young Asian woman dressed in all black, but they’re separating us, taking us away and I have to stay with her…

Under water, floating, wearing some sort of scuba gear. There’s no bottom, no coral reefs, no shipwrecks, no anything. A bit of light from above but it must be moonlight since it’s so dim. Swimming past me are rows upon rows of various fish, like I’m in the middle of a marine 405 Freeway. There’s no danger, no sharks or anything like that, but I can’t decide whether to swim along with one group or the other. Somehow it’s critical that I make the correct choice…

So here’s the question – if the fascinating and somewhat entertaining dreams are tied somehow to the leg cramps and getting rid of the leg cramps will also get rid of the vivid nocturnal adventures in my head, do I take “the pill” and kill them both? Or are the leg cramps a small enough price to pay for the show?

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Senior Discount

I took my first “senior discount” today.

I hadn’t expected it to happen for a while, since most of them are for folks 62 years and older, or maybe 65. But I was getting movie tickets and the senior discount applied to everyone 60 and over.

I was faced with a dilemma. On the one hand, four bucks is four bucks. That’s half of a soda once I’m in the theater! On the other hand, would taking the discount be the first chink in the armor of denial I had put up about my age?

Then I remembered that they give those discounts out because they expect people to be dead at 70 or 75. Maybe 80. But I have every intention of living to at least 150 or 175 – so the joke’s on them!

The movies were fine. So was the four bucks. As long as I don’t get hit by a bus or trampled by a herd of stampeding gnus (no gnus are good gnus!) in the next 90 years or so, my bet pays off.

Suckers!

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