Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Jesus Christ, for crying out loud

I can see it now. The year is 4007 AD. A 2,000 year old tomb has been unearthed. In it are two caskets. One contains skeletal remains with two massive silicone sacs resting firmly in the chest area, common chest implants from that era.

"What we have found here," one expert explains, "are the remains of Anna Nicole Smith, a sex symbol from 2,000 years ago."

"How do you know they are hers?"

"Because we found a young man's remains in the casket beside her. DNA testing proved that this was her son."

For countless generations, many non-believers have stated, for lack of any physical proof, that Jesus never even existed. Zero. Zilch. Nothing more than figments of the mind. The whole Christian religion is based on hearsay and the teachings of biased men. Prove it, they say. Show me an ounce of proof that either God or Jesus exist or ever did.

Could this be the proof the naysayers have been dying for, the proof that would turn their opinions around? Would they then concede that Jesus did, in fact, exist, but it still doesn't make him the son of God - it doesn't even prove this is the same guy mentioned in this "fictitious" compilation of books - or would they be as pragmatic as they always have been and question the DNA? The mere fact that mitochondrial DNA was discovered in fragments in the ossuaries might only prove that this Jesus, son of Joseph, was the son of that Mary, his mother, and that his offspring is the son of the other Mary, his mate. Mitochondrial DNA is strictly matrilineal in nature, i.e., a system in which one belongs to one's mother's lineage. No further information can be extracted.

To a believer or non-believer, does this prove that he is or isn't the same Jesus from the New Testament, when these names were common back then? Find the DNA of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, David or Solomon to compare it with. Better yet, God. Then the proof will, without a doubt, be there. In the meantime, couldn't the high priests at the time, who wanted this upstart religion trounced, have secreted other related bodies into a tomb and inscribed ossuaries to make it appear to be those of Jesus and his kin?

Some Christians believe Jesus made a physical ascension to heaven. Others believe it was a spiritual ascension which left his mortal remains here for disposal. This merely questions the physical and should not be taken in any way as a means to deny all Christians their faith. That is not the intent of the documentary, although some seem to be drooling over it prematurely.

It seems that non-believers now have something to believe in, after all these years of denial. Are they willing to now say, “YES! He did exist! Here’s the proof!”?

Hold on... gotta go. Someone just spotted Anna Nicole at the mall with Elvis.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007



Between my two blogs, I have software where I can cross reference information. This is not for stalking or spamming or for any other seedy reason. I do it because I can get a good grasp of questions posed on search engines and how people are directed to my site. This post is not just dedicated to diabetes because it may help with any sort of medical condition.

The following question really bothered me because I don't know if this person from Decatur, Alabama got an answer that helped and that is only what I want to do here. I wish I could have responded personally, but the information I get does not give me all of the particulars. In other words, I don't know who any of you are and I don't need to know.

I am a diabetic with no insurance where can I get medical help?

I have no health insurance. I did a search for "free Orlando clinics" and found Shepherd's Hope in this area. They got me on the proper path to deal with my disease and I chronicled it here and in ensuing posts. I'm sure there are clinics all around the country that help the poor and/or uninsured. On the federal level, the Hill-Burton Act was passed in 1946 to do just this. My advice would be to go to that site and explore clinics closest to where you live. I would further suggest you first do a search like I did, only replace "Orlando" with your town. If that doesn't work, try using alternative key words along with your search, such as medical or health, like "free health care decatur alabama" until something pops up. If your search yields nothing in your area, go to Hill-Burton and look through these locations.

Here's another popular search:

comprehensive metabolic panel w/EGFR glucose

I have a link on this post that directs you to an explanation of it. Basically, it shows your fasting blood glucose level and will more than likely determine whether you're diabetic or not. Creatinine goes along with that test and is useful in the evaluation of kidney function. This all goes along with

what is A1C test?

which is also linked from the same post. A1C gives a 2-3 month overview of blood glucose levels. Mine was 8.0, which meant I'm diabetic. 7 or below is what you're aiming for.

I get a lot of questions about interactions between drugs, such as

can I take aspirin with Glipizide?

No one on the Internet can make that determination for you. You must ask your primary care physician or specialist about any drug interactions and possible side effects. They alone know about your condition and whether allergies or other things play into the scheme. You might also try asking your pharmacist, since they know what prescriptions you're on. They may give you an answer. I'm of the school of thought that they keep up with drugs more than doctors do, but that's just my opinion. I get the same questions about Lisinopril and Lovastatin because those are the other two pills I take. Ibuprophen. Tylenol. All sorts of questions.

There are many other search questions, too numerous to list here. My advice would be to keep searching, but don't believe everything you read on the Internet. I've read about "Coconut Cures" for diabetes when doctors have told me to avoid all coconut. Before I was diagnosed and didn't know any better, I ate a Thai dish that had a coconut milk base. My sugar was sky high later that night. No way will I believe in any sort of miracle coconut cure or whatever else may be lurking out there. As is with any medical condition, all people react differently. There are no blanket cures to be found online, just like not all diets work for all people. Do you really buy into all those diet pill claims you see on TV?

Please, please, if you have a question about anything, e-mail me at marinadedave@yahoo.com or ask here. I might be able to help steer you in the right direction. I certainly would never, ever steer you wrong.

Friday, February 16, 2007

Oh Mee, Oh My (Hic)

Poor Jennifer Mee. She's the 15 year old girl from St. Petersburg, Florida who can't seem to shake off the hiccups. She's had them for more than 3 weeks now. I can definitely relate. Two years ago, I had them for a week and a half and they pretty much drove me nuts, or as my friends might say, nuttier than I already was. I did a lot of research on the Internet, trying to find any sort of cure. I experimented with just about everything I read, to no avail. I tried holding my breath. I put sugar under my tongue and in the back of my throat. I breathed into a paper bag and drank out of the wrong side of a glass. Nothing. Zero. Zilch. I could not sleep at night and I got desperate. Finally, I made an appointment to see a doctor. My doctor had died, so I had to find a new one, one who had never met me or knew of my medical history.

When I got in to see this new doctor, I (hic) explained (hic) my (hic) dilemma. He looked down my throat. "I don't like the redness I'm seeing," he said. He listened to my neck, chest and abdomen. After a few minutes of careful examination, he made a diagnosis. "I believe you have a lung tumor." My heart sunk down into my butt. That should have been enough to scare the hiccups away, but it didn't.

"You're kidding?"

"No, that's pretty much what I think it is. I've had cases like this before and that's what it generally has turned out to be. I'm going to schedule you for chest x-rays and an upper GI."

"Oh, wow. In the meantime, can you give me anything, like Thorazine?"

"Thorazine? How do you know about that?" he asked.

"I looked it up on the Internet."

"No, really, how did you know about Thorazine?" He gave me a rather sharp and puzzled look.

"I'm telling you, I tried looking for a cure on the Internet and read about it." Thorazine (chlorpromazine) is a drug prescribed for schizophrenia. Seriously. It's also used to treat chronic hiccups. I think he wondered if I had a history of schizophrenia or some other psychotic problem.

"Yes. I'm going to give you a prescription for that." I felt a little relieved, in the hope that this drug would cure me. Hic, I mean, heck, I was more concerned with getting rid of this immediate problem than I was about dying of lung cancer. I left, and hiccuped my way to the pharmacy.

When I got home, I immediately unscrewed the cap and swallowed one of those pills. An hour later, nothing. Man, I thought, this is crazy. I took another one. About an hour later, I was in some sort of la la land I had never been to before. Wow. I was somewhere up in the clouds and decided I needed to get into bed. That was it for me. I woke up the next morning and the hiccups were gone. Bingo! Cured! My first solid night of sleep in what seemed like forever.

The following week, I went to get the tests done and a few days later, I went back to see the doctor. As I was walking into one of those waiting rooms, he passed me in the hall and said he had some good news and some bad news, but don't worry, the bad news isn't that bad.

He walked in with some papers. "You do not have a tumor. You have a hernia on your esophagus. You also have one here and here." He pointed to parts of my stomach. "You also have GERD." GERD is short for gastroesophageal reflux disease. I have always had bad heartburn and I knew I had damaged my esophagus through the years.

"I want you to get some Prilosec OTC and take 2 capsules (not one) a day."

"For how long?"

"Until I tell you to stop." which I interpreted as never. "I'm also going to write a prescription for an ulcer medication, not that you necessarily have one, but it will aid in the GERD."

I had a couple of follow up visits and everything seemed fine. I never really got the hiccups again, at least not like that. Every time I do hic a few times, I get scared. Oh, by the way, I asked what I should do with the rest of those schizo pills. "Throw them away. You don't need them." Yeah, right, like I was going to do that. Hah! At least, I never drove when taking them. That would have been crazy.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

When Harry Met Stewy or How to ruin a good picture

This is a picture of my best friend, Stewart. He's the one on the left. We've known each other since we were kids. Recently, he and his wife were out in California visiting her brother and his family. Her brother is the head chef at Universal. While there, Stew connected with an old friend, Harry. Harry is an actor and he and Stew had their picture taken together for the first time since they were babies growing up in the small town of Ringoes, NJ. They hadn't seen each other in years. I remember Harry from my old high school days.

One thing that people should not do! Do not supply any sort of picture to someone who has extensive knowledge of Adobe Photoshop because the picture you send may be manipulated. I purposely did that once before in a post called "What you see might not be what you get. Read All About It!" to explain how it can be done.

Just in time for Valentine's Day...

Anyone want to send me their photos?

Thursday, February 08, 2007


The Amazing Healing Power of GLUCOBATE!

I would ask ALL DIABETICS to go to the Glucobate website and explore a little bit. Browse through the links and testimonials. It doesn't matter which link you click, they're all the same. If you don't go to a link, come back and click Here.

Remember when hucksters would travel from town to town hawking their magic elixirs from the backs of their wagons, barking out that it would cure whatever ails you? Today, they do it on the internet.

There is no cure for diabetes.

Monday, February 05, 2007

Super Bowl Ho`olaule`a

My sister and her husband are off to Hawaii. They flew out of OIA (Orlando International) this morning. Since they live on the east coast of Florida, they stayed at the Airport Marriott last night and invited me down to watch the Super Bowl. Now, I'm not one to hang out during the big game. Those days have been pretty much over for many years and I prefer lounging on the couch at home, just in case I need to nod off, which I've been known to do. I have no desire to hang around a hotel bar (or any bar, for that matter) where crowd noise is at a maximum, people walk in front of the TVs and arguments may break out among strangers. Besides, because of diabetes, my drinking days just ain't what they used to be and bar food isn't part of my diet plan any longer.

Well, I haven't seen them in a while and I won't see them again for a few weeks, so I decided to go. I didn't know what to expect and I don't think they did, either, but when I spoke with her on the phone, I suggested that we watch the first half at the bar if that's what we agree on and the second half in the quiet confines of the room. I told her I can't stay up and party anymore. She agreed, saying they have a long day ahead of them tomorrow, flying and all.

When I got to their room on the 9th floor, I looked out the window at the airport, which was very near. What struck me was the fact that you can't hear the jets at all as they roar overhead. Not one peep. That was amazing. They are Platinum Members of Marriott and it does come with perks. For one thing, they asked for a refrigerator for food they were sending home with me. They asked for a cot for me to sleep on. These were brought up and there is no added charge. The best part of the membership was the concierge room down the hall. We decided to watch the game there. Good plan. We walked in and saw a nice spread of assorted cheeses, crackers and other appetizer type items, including pot stickers, miniature crab cakes, spinach ravioli and other tidbits. The room had two wide screen plasma TVs and only a handful of people to keep the noise level to a minimum. Except for this one lady who screamed in ecstasy at everything the Colts did. She was really a Panthers fan, she said. One in every crowd. There was an honor bar where you fill out a chit sheet to be added to your room bill. Mostly, it was stuff I can't eat, but I did anyway. I milked a Bacardi & Diet for all it was worth and sucked bottled water the rest of the night. I asked the professionally attired attendant how do you keep tabs on who fills out those sheets and who doesn't? He didn't care, he said. I just keep replenishing food and drinks as we need them. Nothing is counted. Some guests are honest, some aren't. Then, he brought out cheesecake, right around halftime. We went down to the bar and ordered something a little more substantial. I needed something more than high class junk food and gluttonous cheesecake. Seared tuna worked just fine. We finished the game back upstairs and retired to the room. What a game!

My brother-in-law said that I will really like the concierge room breakfast. Good stuff. He was right. I ate oatmeal, smoked salmon with capers, onions and sliced hard boiled eggs, and lots of fresh fruit, like blackberries, raspberries, cantaloupe and pineapple. I washed it all down with orange juice and coffee. Boy, I haven't had a breakfast like that in years. Nor do I want to again. When I got home this morning, my glucose level was a whopping 220.

Oh well, it was a very nice night away from home. It was a good game and many of the commercials lived up to expectations. I was happy to see the Colts win. I got to see my sister and brother-in-law off and I'm eating the homemade lentil soup she made as I'm typing this. You know, the food she sent home with me. Now, that woman knows how to cook.

Mahalo nui loa. A hui hou kakou, aloha Kakou!

Thursday, February 01, 2007

WMD - A Government Plant

I don't know if I should even be discussing this matter. It might prompt an onslaught of investigations by the FBI, the Department of Homeland Security, the CDC and any number of other government organizations. In the interest of national insecurity, I feel compelled to open up about this delicate subject. If anything ever happens to me, this might help explain why.

Last week, I contacted a government agency in a clandestine sort of manner, clandestine in the sense that no one else at the time knew I did it. No one was eavesdropping on my call. I was alone. I was given an agent's name and pertinent communication data. I sent an electronically encrypted message via SMTP-AUTH code. My writing was clear and concise and I included digital images to further explain my query. No one witnessed what my message contained. He responded with some interesting information.

It turns out, I have been harboring a deadly plant. A ricin producing plant. I have been for years. Ricin is 6,000 times more poisonous than cyanide and 12,000 times more poisonous than rattlesnake venom. Imagine if my secret toxin got into the hands of al Qaeda or some other terrorist group. I shall do my patriotic best to avoid this type of scenario at all costs.

I own an ornamental castor bean plant. So said Special Agent Al Ferrer of the Seminole County Cooperative Extension Center. He warned that the "seeds are highly poisonous" and that "the fruit is typical of the plant family Euphorbiacea which includes the cassava, coral plant, poinsettia, etc."

Many years ago, a woman I worked with gave me one and said it was a coffee tree. It was a nice looking plant and drew many compliments. After a swift freeze, it was gone. History. Dead. Years later, my brother and sister-in-law gave me one. I don't think they remember where it came from, but they knew I used to have one. It was about 2 feet tall at the time and within a few years it has grown to 8 feet. I had no idea what it was, but I never thought it was coffee. For one thing, the plant doesn't look like one and the beans definitely do not look like coffee, either. It produces thousands of little green pods, each with 3 beans inside. After a while the pod suddenly dries up and it explodes, sending these little toxic bombs all over the yard. Fortunately, the grass is mowed or else I'd have hundreds of those rascals growing all over the place. In Florida, it was used primarily in landscaping for its unique beauty, but it has since been classified by the state as a nuisance weed, because of how it rapidly propagates. There's nothing illegal about it, since many other plants produce poisonous seeds and leaves, but it probably wouldn't be safe to grow around small children because they'll eat just about anything they can pop in their mouths. If swallowed whole, it more than likely wouldn't do much harm, but if chewed, look out. I think most kids would spit it out because of the taste if they bit down on it. It is a native of Africa and grows in tropical and sub-tropical regions. The entire plant is poisonous, but so is poinsettia. Should they be outlawed? Nah. I'm not afraid of keeping it around. I really like it. It's become my plant friend. There are no children in the neighborhood. Besides, there are a lot more pretty berries that could do the same damage if ingested. These beans look like blood-filled wood ticks - not appealing at all. How many kids like to eat those?

I don't know if I should register this plant with the FBI or not, but I don't think you ever want to make me angry. I might just invite you in for a cup of my specially brewed coffee. Now, if I could just ship my exotic espresso blend to some of those autonomous regions tucked away in the mountains of Afghanistan and Pakistan, we might be able to win this war on terrorism. Better yet, maybe we could drop the pods from planes and wait for them to explode on their own. That'll fix 'em.

I'm waiting for the men in black suits to swarm all over my place, asking for help in spreading my own brand of WMDs - Weeds of Mass Deposit. I am here to serve, Mr. President.