Naturopathy or the Devil's Cure

Today's post is also a lesson.

This story is mine and mine alone and every single person will react differently so I don't want anybody to think that I am a medical/science person ringing alarm bells, but it should serve as a warning for those of you searching for quick health fixes or easy solutions to physical problems via supposed "safe" herbal remedies or somewhat unregulated naturopathy. Please please please....always consult medical professionals before using any herbal or natural "remedy".

So...here goes.

I have a thyroid issue. I have been diagnosed with a form of hypothyroidism known in medical circles as Hashimoto's Thyroiditis. I know. It sounds like the name of a sushi roll, but in reality, it is a medical condition whereby my thyroid is underperforming. As a high achiever, the idea of having an underactive thyroid was a real pisser to me. I'm an A student and my thyroid was failing me? How dare it? You can read all about Hashimoto's by clicking the hyperlink, but suffice it to say that it is manageable with medication, and I am fine and under the care of excellent physicians, both primary care and specialist.

The real problems started when I asked my doctor if there might be a way to jumpstart my metabolism. One of the symptoms of Hashimoto's is weight gain and I have never been content to sit still for weight gain. I eat well, I exercise regularly, and I am wholly frustrated by my inability to drop those pounds. Aggravating? Yes, especially for a high achiever with a thyroid that preferred sitting on the sidelines. My doctor suggested I visit a naturopath that she wholeheartedly recommended. One of the things that I like best about my doctor is that she is willing to think outside of the box. She has had great success with some natural remedies in the past and thought that I might benefit. She sent my charts over to the naturopath and an appointment was set up.

I liked the naturopath immediately. We talked for over an hour and I think that she understood that I wasn't searching for a miracle cure, but rather a way to restart my flailing metabolism. It was understood from the beginning that I was on thyroid medication prescribed by an endocrinologist and that my doctor and I were only interested in enhancing what traditional medicine was already providing. She gave me a whole range of supplements, most of which were just higher dosages of stuff I was already using like Vitamin B12 and Vitamin D. And then....she handed me something called a thyroid booster. The pills, from a highly reputable Canadian laboratory, purport to "help in the function of the thyroid gland". I followed her directions to the letter and took the pills exactly when I was supposed to. And then the trouble started.

Within a week of taking the supplements, I was swept up in a wave of nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and vertigo. I spent hours in the bathroom and days recuperating. The first time it happened, I honestly thought that I had the stomach flu. I ceased taking the medication but only because I couldn't keep anything down. After almost a week of wretched symptoms, I returned cautiously to my normal routine. I cut out the supplements for almost a month while I regained my strength and then I restarted as before. Within two hours (not exaggerating) I was once again heaving over the toilet. Another week of recovery ensued and I finally ceased taking all supplements for another month. Last week, I mentioned to The Husband that I was going to reintroduce my supplements but one at a time to try and discern if there was a problem. The B12 and D were non-issues, and yesterday I decided to try the thyroid booster. It should surprise noone that my dinner plans last night went awry.

A quick Google search provided irrefutable confirmation that it was indeed the thyroid boosters that were causing my misery. A cursory reading of the label, past the ordinary minerals of manganese and zinc, list several root extracts that we are now fairly certain are the emesis culprits. Suffice it to say that the thyroid boosters are now occupying a permanent place in the trash. Fifty bucks down the shoot.

While I absolutely should have done better due diligence and I absolutely should have ceased taking the shit after the second go, the fact that I went against my skeptic nature has me more aggravated than anything else.  I am thoroughly bruised from the beating I have given myself. Why didn't I ask the naturopath about possible side-effects? Why didn't I ask about fillers and source the active ingredients? Why didn't I tell her about my high propensity for stomach ailments, vertigo, and vomiting? Why???

Because I wanted it to work. Because I was looking for an easy solution. Because I liked and had faith in the naturopath. Because I am tired of being tired and cold and weight-retaining. Because I wanted to trust alternatives. Because I forgot who I am at my core....a new-age solution agnostic, a cynic, and a full-throated science believer.

Look...not all naturopathy is bad and not all alternative medicine is hokum. There are probably some very good remedies out there that are effective and work. Hell...it is very likely that these same thyroid boosters that made me projectile vomit would work on others. All I am saying is that next time I will do better homework and ask better questions. For now? It is back to the endocrinologist for an enhanced game plan and back to the treadmill for more intense workouts. And.....

Caveat emptor.

Remembrance.....Yizkor Elohim

Today we remember....

We remember the complexities and the contradictions that are forever mingled with the simplicities and the affirmations.

We remember the distances left unresolved that are camouflaged by moments of pure sincerity.

We remember the stoicism that is muted by wild peals of laughter.

We remember the seemingly impenetrable that was permeated by acts of undiluted love.

We remember the enigma that was comfortable in that cloak.

We remember the pain and suffering of death that is muted by the joy and exhilaration of life.


Yizkor Elohim....

No More Jokes. Trump Isn't Funny Any Longer

I have been down here in the Southern Home now for almost three months. The weather has been middling for a Miami winter and while the natives may enjoy it and don turtlenecks and Ugg boots for the season, the snowbirds and weekly visitors are less than enamoured. Outdoor activities have  been severely curtailed by rain and chill. F*** You El Niño!!

There have been far fewer Canadians in the region this year due in large part to the drastic drop in the Canadian dollar so that anybody visiting can't really shop or buy anything unless one is willing to sell the soul of their first born in order to make up for a 40% price difference. F*** You global economy!

So what is a winter resident in the United States of America to do to keep busy in the face of a shrinking tidepool of activities? Well, once I got past blogging, writing, exercising, reading, Words With Friends encounters, guitar playing, and Facebooking the only thing left was to glean entertainment from the inanity that is the presidential primary season.

Initially, it was easy to be amused by the clown car of candidates that were populating the airwaves and newspaper pages. I often felt as though each and every person running was campaigning to survive the tribal council and be the last individual left on the island. These assholes were more compelling as Bachelor candidates than they were as serious presidential material and believe me, arranging a shitach (match) for any of this women-hating bastards would be a tough sell, including Carly Fiorina! The debates made for some light titters and hefty guffaws, though. Rubio stuck in robot mode. Ted lying through his smarmy capped teeth. The Donald rolling his eyes at Jeb! We laughed. Long. Hard. Loudly. It was preposterous, outrageous, and non-sensical. But....and I can't say this strongly enough....it isn't funny any longer.

Here's the thing. This shit is real now. And it's about to get more real in the coming weeks.

Up until this week, I honestly thought that the Republican elites (translate that to the big money guys) would find any means, ethical or unethical, to derail the Trump Bump. I thought that we would see gargantuan sums flooding into the Rubio campaign and with it a shift in tone coming from Florida's junior senator. It was time to get down in the mud with the dirtiest pig in the race, and even if Marco wasn't entirely comfortable with it, he would be duly schooled in the art of character assassination by the party elders. It isn't that I am a fan of Marco Rubio, mind you. Quite the contrary, in fact. My analysis was based purely on what I saw as the primal, almost pathological need of Republicans for winning back the White House in November. Rubio seemed to be the last "non-crazy" standing.

I was wrong! Oh so very wrong.

This race is now the pompous, megalomaniac, demagogue, misogynist, racist, rampant xenophobe, birther, bullying reality star's to lose. And there doesn't seem to be a damn thing that the GOP establishment can do to stop him.

Today we were treated to the news that Trump leads Rubio down here in Florida by 16 points. 16 f***ing points....in his home state?!? Assemble the virgins, the apocalypse is upon us. It's all over but  the combover.

But...and it's a big honking but....herein are two words why the jokes need to stop and the serious work needs to begin.

Rob Ford.

Yes folks! (That was a deliberate Fordism) Take it from this live just outside Torontonian. Asshole extremist, unqualified, right-wing populists can and do get elected to office and it is a disaster waiting to happen. My beloved hometown is just now recovering from the collective nightmare that we venomously refer to as "The Ford Years". (Before you think that this is some liberal bitch spouting claptrap, understand that this is consensus from  both left and right.) Rob Ford took our wonderfully progressive, cosmopolitan, multicultural, liveable, forward-thinking city and stunted its growth by at least four years, if not more. Like other cities, we have serious problems that require serious attention. Poverty, homelessness, transit, infrastructure repairs....were all left on the back burner while the mayor spouted bullshit catchphrases, promised the moon with money that didn't exist, alienated everybody who wasn't like-minded, and all of this happened before the crack and public drunkenness. (Hey American friends...aside from the substance abuse, does any of this sound familiar?) Toronto became the international butt of a thousand jokes, and nothing of consequence got done during his mayoralty unless of course one counts the paperclip census done at city hall.

Late night comedians loved Rob. He was always good for a laugh, almost manna from heaven. Local TV networks followed him around like puppies searching for the teat. Rob was great for ratings. But most Torontonians tired of his antics quickly and completely. Yes, there is still a devoted following that would like to see him make a triumphant return to the mayor's chair, but thankfully that group is now the minority.

Donald Trump is Rob Ford in a better fitting suit. (And he isn't merely running for mayor. He is striving to become the most powerful man in the world.) He is a rich dude pretending that he understands the minimum wage worker. He panders to the worst instincts in society so that he can gin up great TV ratings and become the "breaking news" on every channel. He says outrageous things so that he can dominate the 24-hour news cycle. He is a master manipulator and a genius at self-promotion. And...he is the living embodiment of the "dumbing down of America." Trump is no longer a joke. He is inherently dangerous. He is now within sniffing distance of the Oval Office and that should scare the collective pants off of every American voter.

I realize that the options are limited. I realize that there is a battle raging on the Democrats' side of the ledger too. I get it. But the world can co-exist with either Bernie or Hillary. As much as we progressives might hate to admit it, the world could have also dealt with Rubio, Christie, Jeb!, or Kasich. But The Donald? HELL NO!!! Stop laughing America because the rest of the world ceased giggling a long time ago. The joke isn't on you. It IS you!

P.S...I didn't even address the lying sack of dog poo who was born in Calgary because in many ways he is even more dangerous than Trump. If he gets close, I will write about him too.

My Shabbat Online

My Shabbat morning was strangely schizophrenic today.

I spent the first part logged on to my home synagogue's brand new streaming feature so that I might partake of our weekly Torah study and to watch the Bar Mitzvah of an extremely involved and capable young man. I haven't yet found a synagogue down here in the Southern Home in which I feel entirely comfortable, so the connection via the interwebs is much like wrapping myself in a warm blanket sent from home, especially on Shabbat.

Following services, I switched on the TV and found myself watching the funeral mass for Justice Antonin Scalia. It isn't as though I am enamoured with funerals, nor do I consider myself ghoulish, but I have been struck this week by the tremendous polarization of the Justice and his opinions, and by the outpouring of both tributes and enmity at his passing. I was curious to see how the Washington elites on both sides of the political aisle might come together to honour a man who was nothing if not extremely controversial throughout his career.

Having little to no previous insight into Justice Scalia's personal life, (such is my lot as a passive Canadian observer) I was surprised to discover that one of his sons is a priest and that he was the celebrant at the mass. I was struck by Fr. Scalia's grace and composure as he honoured his father. As someone who has officiated at many funerals, I was rather surprised at his ability to set aside his own grief for the sake of his faith, and the public ease with which he was able to carry out his religious duties. And so...I tweeted the following:

As a Jew who has officiated at many funerals I am in awe of Fr. Paul #Scalia for his grace & composure for his father. #ScaliaFuneral

— Dawn Bernstein (@guitardawn) February 20, 2016

Within seconds, I was inundated with likes, retweets, and discussions. I have been using Twitter for many years now, and I have never before (even in the Rob Ford heyday) had so many people interact with me. Even more stunning, was the fact that most of them were extremely conservative Christians and right-wing Republicans with whom I have very little in common, at least on the surface. (As I write this, the Twitter interactions are still pouring in.)

But I suppose that just by noting something with decency and with a modicum of courtesy, my tweet struck a nerve with others who were watching. It is easy to heckle and criticize, or to praise and dogmatize Justice Scalia for his opinions and his polarizing views, but today he was being remembered as a father and a devoutly religious man by the people who loved and knew him best...his family.

One woman who engaged me in a very respectful conversation wondered whether or not I felt it "emotionally healthy" that the son was presiding over his father's funeral. And while I am not in any way, shape, or form a therapist, I responded that while I had always abdicated the bimah when my family was involved, I had learned over many years that there is no right or wrong way to deal with grief and death. Perhaps the good Father required this ritual as a tangible method of managing his own sorrow? Perhaps his faith was that which enabled him to get through a very rough personal time, and more importantly, who are we to judge? The woman who asked me the initial question, an atheist by description, quietly and humbly acquiesced.

My interaction today with the Twittersphere was enlightening. We all know of the filth and excrement that can and does burrow deep within, but today showed me that while left and right can fundamentally disagree on politics and religion, there are many out there, on both sides, made up of lovely, decent, and caring people. Believe me when I say that I wouldn't want to see an entire court made up of like-minded justices, but today Antonin Scalia was just a man being mourned in a most profound way by his son and the rest of his family. And in one little corner of Twitter, civility reigned for just a brief moment in time.

Not a bad way to observe Shabbat if I do say.

National Anthem Quick Hit

I haven't written in quite a while, so I thought that I'd give a very quick hit in order to answer some of the burning questions that have been lighting up my Facebook page this weekend and that I really don't feel like engaging with on said social media site.

1. No....I didn't watch the NBA All-Star game or any part of All-Star weekend. I am not a basketball fan and that wasn't going to change simply because the all-star game was held in my hometown. The game's beauty eludes me, so I won't pretend. I hope it was great, that many were excited, and that Toronto performed well on the international stage.
2. Yes...I did see Nelly Furtado sing O, Canada.
3. Yes...I do think that she butchered it.
4. No...I do not think that national anthems should be styled nor interpreted to suit individual singers. National anthems are not merely songs. They are musical representations of a country's national psyche and pride. If an artist wishes to "interpret" a song, pick a different melody and certainly a different venue. Would we fly a stylized Canadian flag at the event with a blue maple leaf just to suit the whim of an artist? 
5. No...I don't think that National Anthems should be sung before sporting events. 
6. Yes...Lady Gaga can sing.
7. Yes...Ne-Yo can sing.
8. Yes...Nelly Furtado can sing.
9. No...I didn't get chills when any of them sang the anthems.
10. Yes...I am a proud Canadian.
11. No...That doesn't change because I'm not moved by the singing or playing of a national anthem.

Tomorrow's quick hit post may be about politics. Beware.

My Fading Youth

It's been a tough few weeks for those of us of a certain age and generation. The recent and far too soon passings of Natalie Cole, David Bowie, actor extraordinaire Alan Rickman, and now Glenn Frey have left me reeling. It is a strange experience to mourn for individuals whom I have never personally met. And yet....there is such familiarity with these artists and the extensive bodies of work that they left behind, that I feel a chasm has opened in my personal history.

I have always been highly suspicious of public outpourings of grief for celebrities and in fact, I have been rather dismayed at the excessive and exaggerated public spectacles of mourning that seem to regularly occur in the internet age. But now it is starting to feel personal.

These artists weren't merely singers or performers. Their work made up the patchwork fabric and soundtrack of my youth. There were the road trips down to Indianapolis when we rolled down the windows and blasted The Eagles at high decibels. There was the smoothness and soulfulness of Natalie as she reminded us of romance and passion. There were the schmaltzy date nights curled up on the couch watching Mr Rickman's brilliance and marvelling at his ability to get me to cheer for his villains as ardently as I did for his leading men. And....there was Bowie. The iconoclast. The individual. The man who taught all of us freaks and geeks that differences are to be celebrated and never dismissed. They were all there for me during my awkward years, my formative times, my growing pains, my youth.

This fortnight has felt personal because it has felt like my childhood and adolescence are eroding and slowing evaporating into the ether. These recent deaths have brought my own aging and mortality into question. It is difficult to look in the rearview and realize that all of those important artistic touchstones have aged right along with me. We collectively mourn these artists not out of some macabre interest in the details of their deaths, but rather to celebrate and remember the gifts that they bestowed upon us. While nobody can lay claim to immortality, these gifted souls left behind work that will be enjoyed and debated about for years to come. 

My sadness metre is on overload this month. I have lost chunks of my history in less than a month. It is difficult for me to fathom that no new works will be forthcoming from this quartet and that is extremely painful. Nobody, least of all me, likes to come face to face with their own decline. And while there are many more artists for me to discover, and to enjoy, and to revel in, there is still a sense of melancholy in the knowledge that some things will never be the same.

Zichronam Livracha...May their memories always be for blessing.

Water, Water, Everywhere, Nor Any Drop to Drink

I had a Facebook conversation with a dear one the other day about the horrific situation that is continuing to unfold in Flint Michigan. A bit of background is necessary. The water in the city is poisoned with lead, and while this information came to public light in October, it is suspected that officials, including Governor Rick Snyder, have been aware of the situation for much longer than that. As a result of this negligence, (and yes I am calling it willful negligence on the part of some of the powers that be...who exactly is still to be determined) many of Flint's children are now suffering from lead poisoning and the long-term effects of their exposure remain unclear. But lead poisoning in children has been shown to lead to lower IQs, impulsivity, learning disabilities, and reductions in cognitive brain function. Ten people have died from Legionnaire's Disease that might have possible links to the water contamination, and residents have long complained about rashes, hair loss, and other health issues all while city and state officials continued to assert that the water was safe. A nearby General Motors plant even stopped using the water because it was corroding their auto parts. To make matters even that much worse, the city of Flint is continuing to send out shut off notices to over eighteen hundred delinquent customers who refuse to pay because the water is poisoned. Pay for the poisoned water or we will shut off your access to the poisoned water. It's like theatre of the absurd. As Libby Nelson recently wrote in Vox:

"This all came about because a struggling Rust Belt city, trying to save money while under emergency management, ended up failing at one of its most basic tasks: providing safe drinking water. And the problem was compounded by ignoring months of warnings from activists who felt Flint's water was not safe to drink. "

Last week, the Governor finally asked for emergency relief from FEMA and President Obama granted that request on Saturday, but because this disaster is not naturally occurring and rather the result of negligence and political orthodoxy and intransigence, the relief funds are limited. The medical costs and the costs of the cleanup could run into the tens of billions.

The conversation that I had with my dear one was not only about the health and environmental impacts of that which has occurred, but also about looking at this disaster as a social justice issue. It is her contention (and I can't say that I disagree entirely) that if Flint was mostly wealthy and mostly white, this would never have happened. I do think she has a point in that poor, ethnic communities tend to be overlooked and wholly ignored until something disastrous occurs to shine a light on their struggles. (Hello Ferguson?) But, isn't there more to this? Shouldn't the ongoing disaster in Flint illuminate a greater discussion as to the role of government in our lives? Even the most ardent libertarian/conservative has to agree with the premise that it should be within the purvey of governments to provide safe, clean water for its residents. Isn't this a basic human rights issue? How can anything that Snyder's government has done be considered acceptable?

I have been spending a considerable amount of time in the United States this winter, and I have been overwhelmed by the amount of time the news media has devoted to the upcoming presidential primaries. Every channel, every day. Constant barrage. The trivial bullshit that has been spewed by candidates and reported on with great ardor by journalists has been interminable. With the exception of very few in the media, (Rachel Maddow has been all over this issue for months) there seems to be a willingness to bury this story on the back pages of newspapers or at the end of broadcasts. It simply is not as sexy a sound bite as whether Cruz is a Canadian or if Trump can piss off yet another demographic and survive the fallout. There are real people being affected by real government decisions up in Flint. Decisions that were made because of strict adherence to political philosophies, and candidates for the highest office in the country are choosing to ignore it as if it were a minor inconvenience. Where is the debate on this? Don't the people of Flint deserve government officials that act in their best interests and not in their own? I simply cannot understand why this isn't a bigger story.

My dear one called the situation in Flint "environmental racism". I countered with "intentional criminality." And while we both may have been a bit hyperbolic in our descriptions, I think that there is room for both views. Providing clean water and not intentionally poisoning its citizens are basic functions of competent governments. The people of Flint Michigan haven't just been ill-served, they have been the victims of systemic incompetence and they are paying the price for it with their lives. Presidential candidates, sitting politicians, and journalists owe it to these people to do their jobs and fix the problem....NOW.

The Kotzker Rebbe once said: "I do not want followers who are righteous, rather I want followers who are too busy doing good that they won’t have time to do bad." 

Rabbi Ari Kahn interprets him thusly: "People who focus on being righteous can become self-absorbed and self-righteous. While those pursuing good deeds and actions become righteous." 

The people of Flint could use a few of those types in leadership right about now.