Nearer My God to Thee
I'm no scientist, or "scientist", but I feel like I have enough evidence to at least make the hypothesis that sciatica can sometimes be caused by a vitamin deficiency. Which is not a theory I made up, but one I heard from a doctor online. Yesterday I was sitting here and just happened to realize I was feeling no sciatic pain, or even pressure. Sometimes the pain might not be intense, but there will be this sort of deep, soreness within my left leg. And that wasn't even present.
The research I heard about said that vitamin B deficiencies may cause sciatica. I heard both B-12 and B-1, so I have a B-1 supplement I take in the morning, and then a B-complex and B-1 supplement I take at night. I also have to add, taking the B vitamins at night has greatly improved my sleep, which was also something I heard from this doctor. I find my sleep to be much deeper. That's not to say I am getting enough sleep. At least not this week. I feel like the second the lights go out at night the morning alarm is ringing.
We also need to factor in the change of eating habits. The reduction of sugar intake by at least 50-75% I would say. The influx of nutrition from the juicing and smoothies and the general lack of junk food. I did have some generic pop tarts last night, as I was craving something sweet after our scrambled eggs for dinner. That was probably a mistake, as for the first time in several weeks I had slight stomach issues and I could taste the fake strawberry filling of said pop tart coming back up.
That is another ailment that seems to have gotten better. My nightly acid issues. It was right before or during when I was sick that I discovered what GERD was, and that it matched all the symptoms of what I was going through at night. Conveniently, GERD can be caused by a vitamin B deficiency that causes the valve at the top of the stomach not to close. Well, once again I've had minimal issues and it is likely due to the combo of taking in more B vitamins and reducing my sugar.
This kind of stuff always fascinated me when I first got into health in the mid-2000s. I sit here wondering why the sadistic chiropractor I went to never suggested a vitamin deficiency to be part of my problem. Of course, there's no money in it for her if I am buying a $15 supplement at Walgreens. Instead she'll sell me $100 containers of hemp cream that barely lasted me a week as I tried desperately at the time to reduce the pain by merely covering it up.
I hope I never get cancer, because the last thing I'd want to do is put myself in the hands of some modern, corporate, money-motivated doctor. The era of doctors truly caring about health are long gone.
In an odd change of routine, we found ourselves watching videos of jazz funerals in New Orleans last night. There are a surprising number of videos of them on YouTube. It's so fun to see and brought up the usual comparisons in my own head over how lame everything is up north here compared to down in NOLA, when even a funeral can be a good time. And what a way to send someone off. Not in the dour, gloomy rituals of the ones I've been to here. I don't know, maybe they do do wakes down there too. I just hate wakes. They are these miserable, torturous events making people stand in a room with a corpse for hours.
There are a few great things that happened during Covid, aside from us making big money on my house sale. It was not having to endure a wake for my dad's funeral. He didn't want one, but I had a feeling my mother probably would have, had it been possible. But it was around the height of brainwashed liberal hysteria over masks and the useless shot that doesn't do anything, so we only had to be in the room with my dad's body for about 30 minutes before the church ceremony.
Part of the reason I wrote the eulogy was not only so that someone could speak for my father, considering the two women in the house were happy he was gone. It was also to bring some levity to the whole thing. My dad loved to laugh and he always made everyone else laugh. In that respect, I wanted to carry on that part of him with what I wrote. Which was quite funny, had the Korean priest not butchered it all with his broken English. Again, I couldn't deliver the speech myself because of ridiculous, liberal-enforced Covid "restrictions" that meant two people couldn't speak at the same fucking microphone.
I always have to say, I hope everyone that believed in masks, in the vax and supported all these restrictions and lockdowns dies a horrible, painful death. None of them deserve to be alive. They betrayed humanity itself with their naive stupidity and sheepish conformity.
Back to Jazz Funerals though. I guess that's a term they didn't much like down there until the later 20th century. They previously called them "funerals with music". One of my favorite Bond films, 'Live and Let Die' opens with such an event. And why shouldn't people be happy and celebrate the life of a person who has died. There is such hypocrisy over death, especially with Christians and specifically Catholics.
They want to yammer on about the person being set free and the Catholic belief that they instantly "go to heaven". And I get it, it is sad when someone dies. But, if you really believed in what you claim to believe in when you go to church twice a year on Easter and Christmas, you'd be happy for the person. Hell, I've felt jealous before about still being stuck here in the routine going to work everyday.
We were talking about if it'd even be possible to have such a thing up here, and of course it probably wouldn't be. First off, there's no way you could parade from wherever to a cemetery here unless they were right next door to each other. And I am sure most cemeteries wouldn't even allow such a thing. They'd probably consider it "disrespectful". Or you'd have some Karen in the place calling and complaining.
The Sparrow wants to be buried. I always thought I wanted to be cremated, but he reminded me of how I love walking through cemeteries and he thinks we should get graves so that we can become part of someone else's experience and enjoyment with walking through them. We even joked about getting ostentatious headstones just to add to the fun for someone else in the future.
When we were planning our wedding in NOLA we had tried to first go to this wedding chapel down there and they offered a second line package so you get your own mini-parade after the ceremony. I really wanted to use the place, whether or not we did the parade, because it was so fun looking inside. And the videos I saw were great. But, it was during the time of the liberal insanity of Covid, and when I reached out to them they never got back to us. We had a time table, so we opted to just go with an officiant and do it at the Court of Two Sisters. Partially my thinking was that anyone willing to take our money and let us still act like sane human beings during that time deserved the money. Anyone that was going to close their business out of fear of a common cold or government tyranny didn't deserve a dime from us.
We found one video of a wedding second line parade, but I had to turn it off. It looked like a busybody white woman extravaganza. Like all those whores I used to see at the bars on Halsted who thought the entire place revolved around them and their cunts, when in reality not a single person was interested in their desperate attempts to gain attention.
On a comical side note, I'd watched a couple videos earlier in the day and the Sparrow commented about how he'd been thinking about New Orleans earlier and it was "weird" that I'd turned on the video. I mean, maybe it's not some psychic thing going on, since we both pretty much think about New Orleans every single day.
The tree butchers are back outside to remove the pine tree on the property line that the asshole neighbors had tagged last year. I wonder if they'll be able to help themselves with just one tree, or if these guys will just started chopping everything down.
My to-do list with work yesterday actually turned out okay. I accomplished pretty much everything, on my own, without having to go to Taco for help. I mean, the stuff was so basic there was no need. The Boss and I are meeting again later today about it all before he responds back to these people who are looking to buy the Meat Packer.
I have to admit a sense of accomplishment with the tasks I did. Though that in no way means I suddenly want to still work for a living. I'd give it all up in a second to be free.
The research I heard about said that vitamin B deficiencies may cause sciatica. I heard both B-12 and B-1, so I have a B-1 supplement I take in the morning, and then a B-complex and B-1 supplement I take at night. I also have to add, taking the B vitamins at night has greatly improved my sleep, which was also something I heard from this doctor. I find my sleep to be much deeper. That's not to say I am getting enough sleep. At least not this week. I feel like the second the lights go out at night the morning alarm is ringing.
We also need to factor in the change of eating habits. The reduction of sugar intake by at least 50-75% I would say. The influx of nutrition from the juicing and smoothies and the general lack of junk food. I did have some generic pop tarts last night, as I was craving something sweet after our scrambled eggs for dinner. That was probably a mistake, as for the first time in several weeks I had slight stomach issues and I could taste the fake strawberry filling of said pop tart coming back up.
That is another ailment that seems to have gotten better. My nightly acid issues. It was right before or during when I was sick that I discovered what GERD was, and that it matched all the symptoms of what I was going through at night. Conveniently, GERD can be caused by a vitamin B deficiency that causes the valve at the top of the stomach not to close. Well, once again I've had minimal issues and it is likely due to the combo of taking in more B vitamins and reducing my sugar.
This kind of stuff always fascinated me when I first got into health in the mid-2000s. I sit here wondering why the sadistic chiropractor I went to never suggested a vitamin deficiency to be part of my problem. Of course, there's no money in it for her if I am buying a $15 supplement at Walgreens. Instead she'll sell me $100 containers of hemp cream that barely lasted me a week as I tried desperately at the time to reduce the pain by merely covering it up.
I hope I never get cancer, because the last thing I'd want to do is put myself in the hands of some modern, corporate, money-motivated doctor. The era of doctors truly caring about health are long gone.
In an odd change of routine, we found ourselves watching videos of jazz funerals in New Orleans last night. There are a surprising number of videos of them on YouTube. It's so fun to see and brought up the usual comparisons in my own head over how lame everything is up north here compared to down in NOLA, when even a funeral can be a good time. And what a way to send someone off. Not in the dour, gloomy rituals of the ones I've been to here. I don't know, maybe they do do wakes down there too. I just hate wakes. They are these miserable, torturous events making people stand in a room with a corpse for hours.
There are a few great things that happened during Covid, aside from us making big money on my house sale. It was not having to endure a wake for my dad's funeral. He didn't want one, but I had a feeling my mother probably would have, had it been possible. But it was around the height of brainwashed liberal hysteria over masks and the useless shot that doesn't do anything, so we only had to be in the room with my dad's body for about 30 minutes before the church ceremony.
Part of the reason I wrote the eulogy was not only so that someone could speak for my father, considering the two women in the house were happy he was gone. It was also to bring some levity to the whole thing. My dad loved to laugh and he always made everyone else laugh. In that respect, I wanted to carry on that part of him with what I wrote. Which was quite funny, had the Korean priest not butchered it all with his broken English. Again, I couldn't deliver the speech myself because of ridiculous, liberal-enforced Covid "restrictions" that meant two people couldn't speak at the same fucking microphone.
I always have to say, I hope everyone that believed in masks, in the vax and supported all these restrictions and lockdowns dies a horrible, painful death. None of them deserve to be alive. They betrayed humanity itself with their naive stupidity and sheepish conformity.
Back to Jazz Funerals though. I guess that's a term they didn't much like down there until the later 20th century. They previously called them "funerals with music". One of my favorite Bond films, 'Live and Let Die' opens with such an event. And why shouldn't people be happy and celebrate the life of a person who has died. There is such hypocrisy over death, especially with Christians and specifically Catholics.
They want to yammer on about the person being set free and the Catholic belief that they instantly "go to heaven". And I get it, it is sad when someone dies. But, if you really believed in what you claim to believe in when you go to church twice a year on Easter and Christmas, you'd be happy for the person. Hell, I've felt jealous before about still being stuck here in the routine going to work everyday.
We were talking about if it'd even be possible to have such a thing up here, and of course it probably wouldn't be. First off, there's no way you could parade from wherever to a cemetery here unless they were right next door to each other. And I am sure most cemeteries wouldn't even allow such a thing. They'd probably consider it "disrespectful". Or you'd have some Karen in the place calling and complaining.
The Sparrow wants to be buried. I always thought I wanted to be cremated, but he reminded me of how I love walking through cemeteries and he thinks we should get graves so that we can become part of someone else's experience and enjoyment with walking through them. We even joked about getting ostentatious headstones just to add to the fun for someone else in the future.
When we were planning our wedding in NOLA we had tried to first go to this wedding chapel down there and they offered a second line package so you get your own mini-parade after the ceremony. I really wanted to use the place, whether or not we did the parade, because it was so fun looking inside. And the videos I saw were great. But, it was during the time of the liberal insanity of Covid, and when I reached out to them they never got back to us. We had a time table, so we opted to just go with an officiant and do it at the Court of Two Sisters. Partially my thinking was that anyone willing to take our money and let us still act like sane human beings during that time deserved the money. Anyone that was going to close their business out of fear of a common cold or government tyranny didn't deserve a dime from us.
We found one video of a wedding second line parade, but I had to turn it off. It looked like a busybody white woman extravaganza. Like all those whores I used to see at the bars on Halsted who thought the entire place revolved around them and their cunts, when in reality not a single person was interested in their desperate attempts to gain attention.
On a comical side note, I'd watched a couple videos earlier in the day and the Sparrow commented about how he'd been thinking about New Orleans earlier and it was "weird" that I'd turned on the video. I mean, maybe it's not some psychic thing going on, since we both pretty much think about New Orleans every single day.
The tree butchers are back outside to remove the pine tree on the property line that the asshole neighbors had tagged last year. I wonder if they'll be able to help themselves with just one tree, or if these guys will just started chopping everything down.
My to-do list with work yesterday actually turned out okay. I accomplished pretty much everything, on my own, without having to go to Taco for help. I mean, the stuff was so basic there was no need. The Boss and I are meeting again later today about it all before he responds back to these people who are looking to buy the Meat Packer.
I have to admit a sense of accomplishment with the tasks I did. Though that in no way means I suddenly want to still work for a living. I'd give it all up in a second to be free.