Wash Your Hands and Hope for the Best

Fear is a powerful emotion. The threat of harm, pain, or even death is a motivator like few others.

Those in power know how to stoke fear. So does the media. That doesn’t mean that fear has no purpose, or that fear isn’t valid.

To live in our time of technological ascendancy, the temptation to believe that all things can be fixed with just a little more tech is a default temptation. “It can’t happen here,” or “now,” or “we’ve evolved beyond that” are all common refrains that technology has empowered.

The facemask as daily wear.

On New Year’s Eve Day, we first learned about several flu-like cases in Wuhan, the capital city in the nation’s Hubei province. The city has a population of 11 million. People were being quarantined and Chinese authorities were trying to parse the source of the outbreak.

One week later, investigations ruled out that this was bird flu, a type of seasonal flu outbreak, or even SARS and MERS. The number of suspected cases had grown to 60 people, with seven Chinese citizens in critical condition. Health officials hadn’t confirmed human-to-human transmission. Continue reading

Presidential Girth and Finding a Healthy Weight

William Howard Taft was our largest president in terms of girth. It is rumored that he once got stuck in the White House bathtub, and if he didn’t, had a larger one installed. Taft’s BMI topped out at 42.3.

Donald Trump’s published weight a year ago was 239. If that’s an accurate weight, then his BMI would have been 29.9. This placed him well below Taft, and trailing other portly U.S. leaders, like Grover Cleveland (34.6), William McKinley (31.1), and Teddy Roosevelt (30.2). Bill Clinton, who it was said by his wife back in 1992 that her husband “loves to eat and he enjoys it,” had a BMI of 28.3 while president. During his first campaign, his weight ballooned 30 pounds, in part due to his penchant for Southern delicacies like ribs, potato salad, and sweet potato pie from Little Rock eateries Sims Bar-B-Q and Tex-Mex dishes made with lots of cheese, from Juanita’s, among others.

Interestingly, since he had his quadruple heart bypass surgery, the 42nd president is now mainly a plant-based vegan. If you’ve seen the former president, he looks great and is likely 30 to 40 pounds lighter than when he left office.

The current president (scowling) and other recent presidents at the George W. Bush funeral.

I am once again limiting my news consumption. Like the last time, I’m tired of the never-ending cycling of themes that have little or nothing to do with my life. Given that these days, journalism seems to be not much more than recycling presidential tweets, I’m really not interested in what these arbiters of truth tell me is “important.”

Not only am I limiting my exposure to the 24/7 news cycle, I’m also being much more intentional about the foods I am eating. As a result, I’ve dropped weight in a Clinton-esque manner. I am now down half of what the former president dropped after leaving office. Oh, I occasionally allow myself to “splurge” a bit, just like I do with political news.

The other day I heard that Mr. Trump was coming up on his annual appointment with his presidential physician. Not surprisingly (if you’ve paid attention to photos and his appearances on television), the president seems to have socked on a few pounds since he assumed his new home on Pennsylvania Avenue.

On Friday, he spent four hours at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center and had a check-up with Dr. Sean P. Conley, his physician. There were another 11 specialists taking part.

Conley put in writing that Trump is “in very good health and I anticipate he will remain so for the duration of his Presidency.” No word what his weight might have been. I’m sure it wasn’t 239 because on Thanksgiving, my weight was 236 and I’m the same height as the president. I’d say his weight’s considerably more than 239 these days, especially if you’ve been privy to a rash of unflattering photos of the prez, often on the golf course: he’s got a gut, and some have described him looking like a “tubby idiot.” That’s probably a little unkind, even if the president rarely shies away from mocking and making unflattering remarks about just about everyone else.

Weighing less than the president these days.

Continue reading

Pain in the Back

My back odyssey continues. I spent the weekend pretty much supine. This sucked for a host of reasons including not being able to make a planned trip to the Finger Lakes region in New York for our 36th wedding anniversary. Miss Mary is the best partner a man could have, but I know she was disappointed, while also remaining sympathetic to my pain.

On my back, courtesy of a “back emergency.”

I know what the problem is. I’m just finding it hard to locate someone to treat it correctly. If that sounds weird, then you have probably been lucky concerning your health care affiliations.

While it’s been a difficult stretch filled with pain and reduced activity, I’ve also learned a host of things about my back. A book I found at the library, written by a doctor, Arthur Brownstein, offered some real insight into dealing with back pain and ways to treat it, holistically. Some of his tips for “back emergencies” really helped Saturday and Sunday.

A good friend is also struggling with back issues. Another friend was considering pulling his own infected tooth before he ended up having it done by a professional. Lots of other people are dealing with personal adversity.

Hoping to have something more optimistic to report, soon.

Conned by Casein

We are living in the age of the con. Our president serves as our “con-artist-in-chief,” a tour guide of sorts in the art of deception.

One thing I should have learned in life—but I still seem to require regular reminders—is that if something becomes popular, everyone wants to jump on the bandwagon and extract their own element of profit. Nowhere is this more evident than in food.

As someone who has lost (and gained) significant amounts of weight on my mesomorphic frame, I’ve yo-yoed back and forth on the scale. I’ve also been on all manner of wacky diets—like the time I was pounding protein in the form of bacon and steak, with very few vegetables or fruit items. It’s only been the last few years where I’ve focused on eating healthier foods, while eliminating as much processed junk as possible.

In the fall of 2016, just prior to Mark leaving on his final walk, I decided to become a plant-based vegan. I have no regrets about that choice, and I’m glad Mark knew his mom and dad had become healthier humans prior to his death. Continue reading

Pain in the Gut

For weeks after Mark died, my stomach hurt. Searing pain, centered in my gut.

Then, winter turned to spring. We made a pilgrimage of sorts to California. Upon returning, I was thrust into the school umpiring season and then, it was summer and more baseball games to arbitrate.

Mary decided to embark on training to get ready for the Tri for a Cure. She returned to work. I got dumped from one of my jobs. Life continued, without Mark.

How does one normalize that which isn’t normal? Life missing a portion of your heart, a family unit in mourning, and now, it’s tourist season and everyone’s life is filled with the seasonal things we all know and love. Except it’s hard to find joy when your life is turned upside-down and you continue reeling.

Our gut is part of the nervous system, known as the “brain-gut axis.” According to an older issue of the Harvard Mental Health Letter detailing the effects of stress and abdominal pain,

“our brain interacts with the rest of the body through the nervous system, which has several major components. One of them is the enteric nervous system, which helps regulate digestion. In life-or-death situations, the brain triggers the ‘fight or flight’ response. It slows digestion, or even stops it completely, so the body can focus all of its internal energy to facing the threat. But less severe types of stress, such as an argument, public speaking, or driving in traffic, also can slow or disrupt the digestive process, causing abdominal pain and other gastrointestinal symptoms.”

Stress causes disruption of the digestive process. Since Mary and I have been on stress overload continuing to deal with the details of a life sans its guiding force here during summer’s height, I guess I know why my stomach is hurting again.

Stress can cause pain in the gut.

Continue reading

12 Things

Americans love their bulleted lists. As if there really are “three steps to success,” or you actually can make $100,000 and never change out of your PJs in the morning.

Yet, there are steps that you can take that may deliver positive impacts on health, offering up benefits now, and as you get older. Eating right has its perks.

Six weeks ago, I decided to see if I could take a sabbatical from meat and dairy. I blogged about this nearly three weeks ago. Since then, I’ve been trying to set a few things straight relative to the depressing election of 2016. A lot of good that did.

So back to health and what we eat. Dr. Michael Greger, along with writer Gene Stone, published How Not to Die: Discover the Foods Scientifically Proven to Prevent and Reverse Disease. It could also have been subtitled, “The Medical and Scientific Reasons to Adopt a Whole Food, Plant-based Diet.” Both subtitles lend the book sound overly scientific and textbook-ish air. How Not to Die is far from either category. It’s a primer for anyone considering adopting a diet centered on whole foods and plants, with plenty of data, but also many humorous anecdotes from Greger’s own life. I’ve found it invaluable in getting started and immersed in a brand new way of living. Continue reading

Plant Power

When you begin questioning the systems that make up a country whose very foundation is a bedrock of lies and half-truths, the challenge becomes—how far do I go in disavowing falsehood? It’s easy to backtrack on a handful of things, but in a capitalist economy, most people have little choice but to sell their labor to employers and kowtow to the powers that be.

Back in August, we went out to Omaha. I wrote about Mary’s participation in the USA Triathlon National Championships held there. It was a hectic but fun six days.

Mark met us on his way back across the country.

On Saturday night, we decided to go out to dinner as a family like we’ve done countless times before. Mark’s been embracing a plant-based eating program for more than a year. I suppose we could have taken him to a steak restaurant and made him eat salad while we chowed down on top sirloin, but doing that seemed like a shitty thing to do to a son who has consistently shown up in support of his parents and their various endeavors, be it book signings or triathlons, not to mention extended-family gatherings. Plus, I like vegetables, too.

Yelp is an app that’s rarely led me astray. When I checked out vegan restaurants in Omaha, a place called Modern Love sounded pretty funky and cool. I called, made a reservation for three, and plotted the night’s plan. Continue reading

Fasting From the News

I don’t enjoy this time of year. I’ll likely elaborate on my holiday melancholy next week, with a Christmas-themed post. Lack of December daylight doesn’t help, and neither does 50 degree, Seattle-type weather.  Sometimes it takes effort to ward off the gloom.

Compounding the holiday humbug I’m feeling, the news—especially the binary back-and-forth among people of good cheer this political cycle—it seems downright maniacal. In fact, if I believed in evil in the “principalities and powers” sense outlined in scripture, I might assign it to the work of the dark one.

Despite decorations, demonic spirits masquerading as politicians, and winter darkness, nothing can stop the JBE from cranking out content—whether writing for hire, or remaining true to his Tuesday/Friday blogging routine.

Sometimes when things aren’t working, it’s important to change it up. Nothing worse than maintaining routines that deliver negative results.

Beginning last Friday, I decided to limit my news consumption. Other than 5 minutes with the morning news team at WMTW-8, mainly for my daily weather fix, I’ve been in the midst of a news blackout. Dr. Andrew Weil deems these self-imposed withdrawals, “news fasts.”

The news today can't be trusted.

The news today can’t be trusted.

Continue reading

Dogs and Cats

When our Sheltie, Bernie, died in 2009, Mary and I were crushed. Say whatever you want about animals not measuring up to the status of fellow humans—losing a beloved pet that has been an integral part of your family for 15 years hurts just like losing a human loved one.

He was the only dog I’ve ever had. When he was gone, it left a void in our household. Of course, life goes on.

Mary and I discussed getting another dog numerous times. The verdict was always, “we’re too busy,” and “a dog is like having a child.” The premise being—you can’t come and go as you please. Still, I missed having a pet around the house, especially as the amount of time I spent working at home increased.

A cat was never an option, or so I thought. I’m not sure why. We’d had cats when Mark was small and we even had a couple of energetic and enjoyable cats when we moved out to the country from Lisbon Falls in 1989. They were outdoor cats, coming and going as cats are want to do—until they disappeared—likely devoured by a wild animal in the dark. With Bernie’s arrival, we became a dog household.

When you live out in the woods and there are fields nearby, you are also in the midst of mouse country. One July evening this summer, I was up in my office writing and listening to baseball on the radio when I heard Mary scream. I went downstairs to find a mouse climbing the screen slider between the living room and our outdoor deck. We had a mouse in the house!

I managed to subdue the critter only to have another one show up in our kitchen this fall. Traps and other so-called mouse-control devices didn’t address the problem. Mary is pretty laid back and easygoing—except when it comes to mice living in the pantry. They had to go!

One morning I said to Mary, “you know the best way to get rid of a mouse, don’t you?” She looked at me, a question mark written on her face. “A cat,” I said, answering my own question.

It wasn’t long before she came home with a video of a beautiful chartreuse kitten residing at the Animal Refuge League in Westbrook. This kitten was a dead ringer for perhaps the best cat we’d ever owned, Shauna, who disappeared after we’d moved out to Durham.

Lucy perched on her cat house, watching the birds.

Lucy perched on her cat house, watching the birds.

Continue reading

“D” is for Discipline

Discipline is an old-fashioned word. It belongs to the time before everyone’s shortcomings got filed under disease, disability—or better—blamed on someone else or a societal injustice. To use “discipline” in a sentence or conversation is a great way to get you branded as an anachronism.

That’s fine. There are some things that can’t be fixed without traditional approaches.

I was thinking about this as I was swimming my lengths in the YMCA pool, part of my twice-weekly routine that I’ve adopted to remain fit and flexible. I rarely am excited when I wake up at 4:30 to be in the car by 5:15 (that’s AM, not PM!) to do something that three years ago I considered impossible. But when I’m done, I’m thankful for the intrinsic motivation that got me up and out the door.

Discipline means having your own personal drill sergeant.

Discipline means having your own personal drill sergeant.

Continue reading