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... aye there's the rub.
I know Hamlet was talking about the "eternal dirt nap" that we all eventually take, but I'm more concerned with the act of catching 40 winks.
I seem to be stuck in the 5 winks, 5 winks, 5 winks, 15 winks cycle (I fall asleep fine, but wake up every hour until 3am and then finally fall into a deep sleep until my alarm jars me awake 3 or 4 hours later.
Sleep specialist thinks I have "chronic insomnia". Really? Thanks for the insight doc.
Because of some family history, I'm going to get a sleep study in a few weeks anyway to rule out the funky stuff. But I just may be one of the millions who spend their nights groggily chasing the elusive sandman who somehow always misses his stop at my bedroom. Bummer.
Well, thanks to Dr. Sleepy, I'm going to see if the good people at Aventis Sanofi can help with my slumber.
Until then, don't wake me up if I nod off - else, I'll starting quoting Shakespeare again.
'Til morrow, good friend.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
It's fun to stay at the ...
... YMCA.
I guess the only time a stright guy (yours truly) can extol the virtues of the YMCA is when he talks about working out - which also sounds a little gay if you think about it.
Ok - off to a bad start, I don't want to sound like a homophobe and a lazy bastard at the same time.
Especially because I am a lazy bastard.
I'd like to lay around, watch TV and eat cheetos after work, but I can't if I want to live "well" to a ripe old age. By living well, I mean not being blind, on dialysis and with all limbs intact.
These things are a concern to me becuase I have Type 1 Diabetes.
Type 1 is the type that kids usually get and is a result of an autoimmune process. The body is exposed to something (aka as an "antigen" usually a virus) and in the process of fighting it make antibodies against the antigen. Unfortunately sometimes these antibodies (in susceptible people) do more than they're supposed to after the antigen is gone. They go looking for more antigen to destroy but find normal cells in the body that are familiar to the antigen and these antibodies start to kill off these normal cells. In the case of type 1 diabetes, the normal cells in question are the beta cells in the pancreas - the cell that produce insulin. So, several months after the body is exposed to the antigen (usually manifested as a "cold"), the antibodies have been slowly knocking off the beta cells and a critical mass is reached whereby the beta cells can't make enough insulin to cover the body's need and the body develops diabetes. Diabetes, in lay-man terms, is when there's too much circulating glucose in the blood stream - in the type 1 case because there isn't any (or enough) insulin to help this glucose to get brought into the cells to use as fuel. Exercise is one of those rare body functions that allow the cells to suck up glucose without the need for insulin to help them.
Don't worry - the physiology lesson is over for now.
So, as opposed to someone who wants to lookgood in therir bathing or birthday suits, I need to work out to stay healthy. And, yes, I'm just vain enough that I wouldn't mind being the "hot dad" at the soccer games.
So, back to the YMCA.
I'm used to the dingy, grungy basement work out rooms and the chlorine baths they called pools of my youth. So I was in total shock when I visited the YMCA across the street from my work last week. It was beautiful; light and airy; no visible fungii walking around in the showers; all the treadmills had a little screen hooked up to cable! (seriously!)
There's free daycare for 2 hours and the kids were ecstatic to be there - doing crafts, playing games. Hell, I want to spend an hour there, have some milk and then lay down for a nap!
So, young man, were do are going? Everybody - It's fun to go to the Y-M-C-A ayyyyy.
I guess the only time a stright guy (yours truly) can extol the virtues of the YMCA is when he talks about working out - which also sounds a little gay if you think about it.
Ok - off to a bad start, I don't want to sound like a homophobe and a lazy bastard at the same time.
Especially because I am a lazy bastard.
I'd like to lay around, watch TV and eat cheetos after work, but I can't if I want to live "well" to a ripe old age. By living well, I mean not being blind, on dialysis and with all limbs intact.
These things are a concern to me becuase I have Type 1 Diabetes.
Type 1 is the type that kids usually get and is a result of an autoimmune process. The body is exposed to something (aka as an "antigen" usually a virus) and in the process of fighting it make antibodies against the antigen. Unfortunately sometimes these antibodies (in susceptible people) do more than they're supposed to after the antigen is gone. They go looking for more antigen to destroy but find normal cells in the body that are familiar to the antigen and these antibodies start to kill off these normal cells. In the case of type 1 diabetes, the normal cells in question are the beta cells in the pancreas - the cell that produce insulin. So, several months after the body is exposed to the antigen (usually manifested as a "cold"), the antibodies have been slowly knocking off the beta cells and a critical mass is reached whereby the beta cells can't make enough insulin to cover the body's need and the body develops diabetes. Diabetes, in lay-man terms, is when there's too much circulating glucose in the blood stream - in the type 1 case because there isn't any (or enough) insulin to help this glucose to get brought into the cells to use as fuel. Exercise is one of those rare body functions that allow the cells to suck up glucose without the need for insulin to help them.
Don't worry - the physiology lesson is over for now.
So, as opposed to someone who wants to lookgood in therir bathing or birthday suits, I need to work out to stay healthy. And, yes, I'm just vain enough that I wouldn't mind being the "hot dad" at the soccer games.
So, back to the YMCA.
I'm used to the dingy, grungy basement work out rooms and the chlorine baths they called pools of my youth. So I was in total shock when I visited the YMCA across the street from my work last week. It was beautiful; light and airy; no visible fungii walking around in the showers; all the treadmills had a little screen hooked up to cable! (seriously!)
There's free daycare for 2 hours and the kids were ecstatic to be there - doing crafts, playing games. Hell, I want to spend an hour there, have some milk and then lay down for a nap!
So, young man, were do are going? Everybody - It's fun to go to the Y-M-C-A ayyyyy.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Really? are you really that dumb? ....
Every now and then, my professional life seems like a Saturday Night Live skit:
(don't worry - names have been changed to protect the retarded).
Interior. Doctor's examining room. Handsome doctor is talking to slack-jawed patient who's sitting on the examining room table with his shirt off. The doctor is peering intently at the patient's back with a large light and a magnifying glass.
Doctor: so, this thing? (pointing to a spot on the patient's back)
Patient: (squirming a little) Yes. what is it?
Doctor: oh, it's ... just a zit. In fact you have a bunch back here (doctor removes hand from patient's back and wipes it on his lab coat).
P: No. (thinks for a second; shakes his head) I don't think so.
D: (somewhat flustered) okayyy. (he locates another lesion) How about this one.
P: yeah ... that's another one.
D: (frowning) yeah - that's a zit too.
P: no, I don't think so. I think you're wrong.
D: well ... it looks like a zit.
P: nah. What are those little bumps people get on their skin ...
D: zits?
P: no ... they start out red and then get a whitish head thing. If you squeeze it, pus comes out?
D: like a zit?
P: no, not quite. People get them alot when they're teenagers ...
D: well, other names for zits are comedomes, acneiform lesions, blocked pores ...
P: no. You know, not zits - they can cause scars if you scratch them ...
D: (looking frustrated) like pock marks from zits?
P: hmmm ... nah. I get them when I eat greasy food and if I get all sweaty and don't shower.
D: (walks back to desk and sits down - sighing) do you want a lifeline?
P: what?
D: nothing. If you had them before, what did you use to treat them?
P: you know, over the counter stuff, like "NOXY 9".
D: you mean, "Oxy 10".
P: nope. I'm sure it's Noxy 5.
D: Do you mean "nonoxxynol 9"? the spermicide in condoms?
P: No - that's "minoxidil". It makes my pee tube burn, but I can't have any more kids, 7 is enough!
D: (obviously frustrated) no, no, NO! Minoxidil is for baldness!
P: (looking at doctor a little leary-ly) doc ... I ain't bald.
et cetera, et cetera.
It lasted like this for 15 minutes. We couldn't agree on the name of the lesions, the meds, and whether he had a "colostomy" versus a "colonoscopy" for colon cancer screening.
I think Darwin was wrong.
(don't worry - names have been changed to protect the retarded).
Interior. Doctor's examining room. Handsome doctor is talking to slack-jawed patient who's sitting on the examining room table with his shirt off. The doctor is peering intently at the patient's back with a large light and a magnifying glass.
Doctor: so, this thing? (pointing to a spot on the patient's back)
Patient: (squirming a little) Yes. what is it?
Doctor: oh, it's ... just a zit. In fact you have a bunch back here (doctor removes hand from patient's back and wipes it on his lab coat).
P: No. (thinks for a second; shakes his head) I don't think so.
D: (somewhat flustered) okayyy. (he locates another lesion) How about this one.
P: yeah ... that's another one.
D: (frowning) yeah - that's a zit too.
P: no, I don't think so. I think you're wrong.
D: well ... it looks like a zit.
P: nah. What are those little bumps people get on their skin ...
D: zits?
P: no ... they start out red and then get a whitish head thing. If you squeeze it, pus comes out?
D: like a zit?
P: no, not quite. People get them alot when they're teenagers ...
D: well, other names for zits are comedomes, acneiform lesions, blocked pores ...
P: no. You know, not zits - they can cause scars if you scratch them ...
D: (looking frustrated) like pock marks from zits?
P: hmmm ... nah. I get them when I eat greasy food and if I get all sweaty and don't shower.
D: (walks back to desk and sits down - sighing) do you want a lifeline?
P: what?
D: nothing. If you had them before, what did you use to treat them?
P: you know, over the counter stuff, like "NOXY 9".
D: you mean, "Oxy 10".
P: nope. I'm sure it's Noxy 5.
D: Do you mean "nonoxxynol 9"? the spermicide in condoms?
P: No - that's "minoxidil". It makes my pee tube burn, but I can't have any more kids, 7 is enough!
D: (obviously frustrated) no, no, NO! Minoxidil is for baldness!
P: (looking at doctor a little leary-ly) doc ... I ain't bald.
et cetera, et cetera.
It lasted like this for 15 minutes. We couldn't agree on the name of the lesions, the meds, and whether he had a "colostomy" versus a "colonoscopy" for colon cancer screening.
I think Darwin was wrong.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Rainy days and Mondays always get me down ...
... and today is both.
There is an actual condition called SAD - seasonal affective disorder. I know, somebody has a sick sense of humor.
As the sunlight wanes in the fall, our vitamin D levels fall, our neurochemicals get a little jumbled, our circadian rhythms get off track - this all results in feeling a little "blue" (very impressive medical term).
Some scientists claim it's a residual from our caveman ancestors. Despite feeling some depression, there is also a mild decrease in hormone levels and adrenal levels - making our bodies work a little more slowly, thus needing less food and energy to make it through the cold, dark winter.
I feel it big time. I don't get clinically depressed, but I feel it's harder to get up in the am when the alarm clock goes off; it's harder to stay exercising (I usually get an increased urge in January as the days start to get longer); it's harder staying focused at work, etc.
I have a 250 watt Metal Halide bulb in the basement under which I put my tropical bonsai's in the winter. I'm drawn to it like a moth in the dark days of November and December - I'll spend more time watering and pruning etc. Which is impressive because the rest of the basement is dank and dreary and smells like cat piss and hairballs.
The only ways to combat this are meds (I don't need any more, thank you), light therapy (seriously considering) or good ole forcing-yourself-to-do-more-outside and get your sun fix as much as possible.
I could also move someplace tropical where the sun's rays don't have much seaonal change, but I don't think I could handle the heat. I would miss the early fall and late spring days that getmy body humming. And I hate to admit it, but spending some time skiing and sledding is good for my soul too.
Only about 2 months until the waning sunlight days become waxing again, so I'll do what I always do - bitch about the weather, bitch about Minnesota, curl up on couh or in the bed with my family and wait until spring.
Or look for me in the basement, under the plant grow light. Peace
There is an actual condition called SAD - seasonal affective disorder. I know, somebody has a sick sense of humor.
As the sunlight wanes in the fall, our vitamin D levels fall, our neurochemicals get a little jumbled, our circadian rhythms get off track - this all results in feeling a little "blue" (very impressive medical term).
Some scientists claim it's a residual from our caveman ancestors. Despite feeling some depression, there is also a mild decrease in hormone levels and adrenal levels - making our bodies work a little more slowly, thus needing less food and energy to make it through the cold, dark winter.
I feel it big time. I don't get clinically depressed, but I feel it's harder to get up in the am when the alarm clock goes off; it's harder to stay exercising (I usually get an increased urge in January as the days start to get longer); it's harder staying focused at work, etc.
I have a 250 watt Metal Halide bulb in the basement under which I put my tropical bonsai's in the winter. I'm drawn to it like a moth in the dark days of November and December - I'll spend more time watering and pruning etc. Which is impressive because the rest of the basement is dank and dreary and smells like cat piss and hairballs.
The only ways to combat this are meds (I don't need any more, thank you), light therapy (seriously considering) or good ole forcing-yourself-to-do-more-outside and get your sun fix as much as possible.
I could also move someplace tropical where the sun's rays don't have much seaonal change, but I don't think I could handle the heat. I would miss the early fall and late spring days that getmy body humming. And I hate to admit it, but spending some time skiing and sledding is good for my soul too.
Only about 2 months until the waning sunlight days become waxing again, so I'll do what I always do - bitch about the weather, bitch about Minnesota, curl up on couh or in the bed with my family and wait until spring.
Or look for me in the basement, under the plant grow light. Peace
Friday, October 3, 2008
I'm not paranoid, I'm just observant ...
Everybody has personality quirks and character flaws. Taken to an extreme, however, and I call it pathology.
There's alot of "pathology" out there.
There's alot of "pathology" out there.
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