On and Off

27 08 2014

What if…

There was to be an experiment, in which a whole state of a country was involved, one which has a fairly evenly spaced population, a popular radio station, and an Astronaut watching and in contact with the radio station below….

And the listeners had their fingers on their light switches, and were set to flick their switches as the Astronaut says…. on, off, on, off, on, off, on….

Would the Astronaut see the state flash like a neon sign, in a fairly even, flat pattern…

OR, Would He see something more like ripples from a pool, because people who were closer to the transmitter, would hear the commands quicker than those further away?

Like a Primitive Man.

25 08 2014

If you watched Catalyst´╗┐ You may have seen how our gut is supposed to have “Caveman food” or at least a more natural, less processed diet.

It made me think.

While growing up, my Father who ate very well due to Mum feeding him, had a lot of gut problems, he would say he had ulcers, but I don’t know if that was ever confirmed by a Doctor, maybe it was… He would often complain about “burning up” on the inside, and burp a lot.

But He would slather on butter an inch thick, even just after WWII ended, and Mum was still on rations (I actually found the ration book). She was often angry with him for this habit.

Dad also loved his salt “I don’t see why salt is bad, they used to give us salt pills when we were in the army up north” Yes but it was very hot up there in the Islands.
So he would sprinkle salt on everything, even before he’d tasted it.

Sugar and coffee were other things, and cream.

Mum also had a sweet tooth, so there were always cakes at our place, and Dad loved those.

Now here’s the thing.

Mum was of an English background, and while Dad had his share of English blood too, Part of him was Aboriginal.

So while Mum was closer to her proper diet, peas, beans, lentils, potatoes, meat etc, She never really had any problems.

Dad should have probably fed on a diet more suited to the Aboriginal… Of course this was impractical, but we could have come up with something similar, there’s fish, there’s fruit and veg which is similar to the Aboriginal diet, it could have worked.

Not that you could get Dad to do anything fancy, he was unmovable, and kept on eating as much of the good stuff till the day he couldn’t eat at all.

My Sister had her own gut problems, Mum noted that Fish and Chips or a BBQ would cause a migraine, but like Dad, She rarely listened and suffered for it later.

When I turned 21, I asked my Parents if I could go to an Indian restaurant with them, that’s all I wanted, I’ve never been a mad party person.

We all loved the curries, and became regular customers.

However, I wonder now if that caused more damage than it was worth?

Last year I had begun to buy Indian food from the supermarket, had this intensified my UC to the point that I needed medical help?

Had it made my Dad sicker?

And if the food was bad for us, what about Mum and her English gut? Why didn’t anything seem to affect her?

It’s worth noting that unlike my Dad, I will tend to drop things completely if I feel they’re not doing me any good.

I stopped drinking coffee and tea as a teenager, and did not start drinking it again until the age of 39, because the cancer treatments had left me feeling cold inside.

But I am in a bit of a rut at the moment, and need to get out of that.

So, should I too be eating snakes, lizards, turtles, fish, wild fruit & vegetables, grubs, moths etc?

It’s unrealistic, and to my Western tastes, is a bit off putting, and I had lizards and tortoises as pets, they were family. I am not eating witchetty grubs, although a cooking teacher at high school said that her Hubby, a chef, had come home with a mystery soup one evening… She tried it and ate four bowls of it… witchetty grub soup! She said she felt revolted, but at the same time, it was delicious.

However, everything seems to suggest that possibly a Raw food diet could be the way to go, or at the very least, just using a lot more fresh fruit and vegetables.

Catalyst also mentioned that good bacteria can be added to the gut, by eating lots of particular vegetables which have the bugs already inside them, which in theory, makes fecal transplants look like treatments for emergency cases.

There is research being done in the US where they collect poo from all around the world, they will send you a kit for this, for free when you sign up online.

They are trying to trace gut bacteria and produce a kind of map, they also show you which bacteria they found in your gut, and compare your findings with others.

I think this could be worth trying.

Tonight, while having my enema, I heard Michael Jackson singing “Man in the mirror”, wise words?

The Enema

25 08 2014

As most of you know, a lot of people won’t write about certain subjects, but I LOVE talking about certain subjects because that’s my nature.

I have a story from what happened tonight which may at first sound dreadful, but I think by the end you’ll be chuckling.

You see, as a part of my uncerative colitis (UC) treatment, I have to have enemas each night.

Now I got my medication a while back, but I thought that I might hold back till the antibiotic meds were finished, as they are now.

So I have these pills and enema bottles.

I’d just had a shower, laid a towel where my bottom would be as I thought it could potentially get messy, and put Smooth FM on, a soft pop music station, hereby known as “Music to have enemas by”.

So I thought the bottles beak would be pushed up my clacker, I’d “try” to lay there for the 30 minutes they’d requested on the bottle… I was sure I’d run madly to the lav at the three minute mark, but it wasn’t going to happen.

All ready for this, I got myself onto the bed, just as Andrew Daddo said that it was 7:30pm and we should just lay back and relax, He’d speak again at 8pm”

30 minutes of music, perfect!

I pushed the bottle up inside and squeezed the contents inside of me.

There were a few wobbly moments, and then I settled in to listen to Michael Jackson, The Carpenters and others.

I was really comfortable, a few tiny anxious moments, but nothing to worry about.

And then I heard Andrew Daddo speaking, and got up to go to the loo, not because of him, but because it was clearly 8pm.

The trouble was I was really comfy, I was warm, and Andrews voice and his music was soothing, I thought I could just lay there all night. Yeah I’m taking the piss a bit, but I was comfy, and liked the music, OK, Andrew was ok too.

BTW: I think there were, what? Eight Daddo brothers? and I think at least five worked in TV or Radio.

Anyway I got up, and walked… *walked* calmly to the lavatory, the dunny, the thunderbox…. and sat gently on the throne, and squeezed.

I had expected to land hard on the seat, and COWABUNGA!, but no, it was almost Regal, Her Majesty would have approved.

I squeeeeeeeezed again, and heard a tiny drip.

I frowned, this was weird, this wasn’t what I had expected at all.

And then drip drip drip drip drip… and a dainty fart.

I examined the bowl, and all I saw was some thick white fluid floating on the surface.

Now I’m sure many of you who follow me have already conjured up all sorts of things in your dirty dirty minds, but it was just enema fluid, honest.

So I did a tiny amount of paper work, and that was that, it wasn’t bad at all, I feel almost Norsca Fresh.

It did leave me a little perplexed though.