Monday, July 31, 2006, 18:28
Say What?
Whenever I feel like I need a good laugh, all I have to do is turn on the television and wait for a drug company commercial.
"Tell your doctor if you have kidney disease."
"Tell your doctor if you have liver disease or heart disease."
"Tell your doctor if you have an ulcer."
Excuse me?
I'm supposed to tell the doctor that I have kidney disease, liver disease, heart disease or an ulcer?
Now, I know I live out in the country in the middle of nowhere. Which means that I might be severely out of touch with reality. But I was always under the impression that's why a person went to the doctor in the first place. I thought it was the doctor's job to tell you if you have a disease.
If I'm supposed to tell a doctor that I have a major disease why am I going to the doctor in the first place and spending all of that money?
Of course, that's why the drug companies are running the commercials in the first place. They advertise drugs on television that they can't sell enough of to make a "good profit." Drug company execs figure if they can create a demand among the general public — PRESTO! — instant profits will come rolling in.
And that's the insidious danger of the commercials. By telling people to tell their doctor if they have a major disease, they are giving people the impression that it's their duty to diagnose themselves and then tell a doctor. Because, therefore, if you can diagnose yourself, you can also suggest a treatment. Right? And whadda-ya-know? The treatment just happens to be the drug that was advertised on television.
Nifty the way that works, isn't it?
Never mind that people who don't really need the drug end up demanding a prescription.
Never mind that when the drug is taken by large numbers of people who most likely don't need it, all kinds of life-threatening side effects appear just because the probability is higher with more people taking the drug.
If 1 person out of 1,000 suffers a side effect, that doesn't sound so bad, does it.
But then if 10,000 people take the drug there will be 10 who suffer the side effect. And 100 in 100,000 and 1,000 in a million and 10,000 in ten million.
And then it's Vioxx all over again.
Here was a drug that was a miracle for people who had such debilitating arthritis pain they could not lead anything close to a normal life. For them, the drug meant the difference between unspeakable suffering when they couldn't hardly move without excruciating pain and being able to go to work and go to the grocery store and to cook a meal.
But suddenly, all kinds of people who only had minor pain began demanding the drug. And then all kinds of people began suffering heart attacks and strokes.
And the drug -- which meant a world of difference to those who really needed it -- was suddenly taken off the market. And now no one gets any benefit from it. All because the drug company was too greedy.
I also have to laugh at the drug commercials when the announcer says in a quick, and breathy voice, "side effects are minor and can include sore throat, nose bleeds, ear infections, and occasionally, sudden death."
Sudden death is minor?
Well, if you're one of the people who didn't die suddenly, I suppose it could seem minor. But to the people who died suddenly -- and to all of their loved ones -- I'm sure sudden death is a pretty major side effect.
When they start mentioning all of the possible side effects, I think, "who would want to take that if it makes you feel so crappy? Or could kill you?"
And then there's the sleep aid commercials -- Ambien and Lunesta to name two.
I think the Benadryl people are missing the boat, here. The prescription sleep medications carry the same side effects as Benadryl, or in its generic form, diphenhydramine -- which is an ANTIHISTAMINE, for crying out loud, that's been around for years. Any serious side effects from diphenhydramine would surely have come to the surface by now. Not to mention that I bet it's a fraction of the cost of prescription sleeping pills. AND, if you have allergies, it will help for that, too.
I take a fair amount of diphenhydramine during the spring, summer and fall, and I'm here to tell you that if I take 2 before I go to bed, in 20 minutes, I feel like I've been hit by a ton of bricks and can hardly keep my eyes open.
And yet, there are probably millions of people out there saying, "yeah, I need that Ambien stuff. Yeah, I need the Lunesta, so I can 'leave the rest to Lunesta.'"
Well, like I said, all of it's good for a laugh when I need a good laugh. And that's just about every day now, seeing as it is still dry and is still very hot. At a little past 1 p.m., the thermometer in the shade said 104 degrees.
I heard on the news yesterday that 60 percent of the United States is in a drought. 60 percent. More than half. And that it hasn't been this dry in the Dakotas since the Great Depression.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Saturday, July 29, 2006, 19:23
Melting Point
"I know," I said. "Let's go and pick those choke cherries."
It was Friday evening, and although the sun was nearly ready to set, the temperature was still 90 degrees, the dewpoint was around 80 degrees, and the humidity was 90 percent.
Sitting outside in the backyard was like sitting in a sauna with a warm, wet, wool blanket wrapped around me.
"Good idea," Randy said. "But I am not walking. Let's take the truck."
Friday afternoon I had gone into town, and on the way, on the road that goes past my brother's place, the farm where I grew up, there is a small choke cherry tree growing in the ditch.
From what I could see, the branches of the tree were loaded with black, plump choke cherries.
I haven't seen any other choke cherry trees with cherries on them this year. But somehow, that little tree managed to be loaded down with fruit.
Whenever I find choke cherries, I like to pick them. They make the most beautiful deep purple jelly. And although the cherries themselves are kind of sour but mostly leave a puckery taste in your mouth and throat, they make a jelly that is downright delicious.
I wasn't going to argue with Randy about taking the truck. The choke cherry tree is only about a half mile from our house, but under the circumstances, with so much heat and humidity and a high dewpoint, walking didn't seem like a very good idea. Under less sweltering weather conditions, a half mile wouldn't even be time to get my leg muscles warmed up.
Friday evening, my leg muscles were plenty warm just sitting in a lawn chair doing nothing, thank you very much.
Friday afternoon was one of the hottest days we've had so far. The thermometer read 101 degrees in the shade, but that wasn't the worst of it. The temperature has gotten up to 100 several times already this summer, and it has been in the mid to upper 90s more times than I care to count. But on Friday, it was the high humidity and dewpoint that made it unbearable to even walk around outside, much less do anything. The heat index, according to the weather report, was around 110 degrees.
When I went to town, I was wearing my customary bandanna tied around my forehead. It's like I always say -- I might not be good at much of anything else, but I sure can sweat. I get that from my dad, you know. He was a champion sweater, too. And so is my brother. And my sister. When my sister and her husband still had milk cows, she used to go out and feed the cows corn silage, and when she was finished feeding the silage, she would say she looked like someone had poured a pail of water over her head. (Been there, done that, got the t-shirt -- as they say.)
Anyway, all I did was drive into town, go to the pharmacy, go to the bank, go to the grocery store to pick up a few things -- but by the time I got home, my bandanna was soaked with sweat and was so wet, it was almost dripping sweat off the ends tied at the back of my head.
No -- walking a half mile to pick choke cherries didn't seem like a good idea at all.
Randy got out our berry picking pails -- two one-pound coffee cans with with wire handles. And off we went.
The little choke cherry tree, which isn't much taller than Randy, was so heavy with cherries that the branches were drooping over. We picked for 15 minutes and filled both of our pails to the rim. And there were still cherries left on the tree. If all of the Baltimore Orioles have not left the country yet to go someplace where they can find water, they will enjoy eating the rest of the choke cherries.
Right now, Saturday afternoon, the choke cherries are in a pot on the stove, cooking down so I can get the juice out of them. I'm thinking I will have at least one batch of choke cherry jelly but more likely it will be two batches.
A while back, when I was making pin cherry jelly, Randy looked up pin cherry jelly on the Internet and found it selling for $6 for one of those tiny quarter pint jars. At that rate, my pints of pin cherry jelly are "worth" $24. I would imagine the choke cherry is similar. So it definitely is a good use of my time to make jelly. Besides, I can't buy anything like that in the grocery store. Not the stores around here, anyway.
And not only that, it is sooooooo good in the winter on cold, snowy days when the sweltering summer day that we picked the choke cherries is nothing but a distant memory.
And that makes it priceless to me.
*****************************
The vet called me about Charlie on Friday morning. He wanted to find out how Charlie was doing and also to tell me that Charlie has tested positive for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, too. So not only does the dog have an infection in his hip joints from the abscess, he also has Lyme disease, Ehrlichiosis, and Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. It is a miracle that the poor dog is walking around at all.
The clindamycin is helping for the hip infection, so at this point, it will be a matter of attacking one infection at a time until we get them cleared up.
The fact that Charlie is walking around at all and is making attempts to be his normal, cheerful, happy-go-lucky self is a testament, I think, to his strength of character and to the joy that he finds in every little facet of life -- from going down to the barn with me, to patrolling the horse pasture, to accompanying us on walks, to making sure we always have a four-footed companion to supervise everything we do around the place. Even if it's just pulling weeds out of the garden.
LeAnn R. Ralph