Arriva, NICOWater, and Heather's Unabashed Opinion

I read this article yesterday and earmarked it for blogging.

First, anyone who doesn't know that nicotine is addictive, please raise your hands, shake 'em a bit, and then visit this website. Then come back. (No one left, I know).

Now, that being said, how much does it take to kill you (since, as my loving husband pointed out, nicotine is also a poison). It's about 60 mg to kill you.

The average amount of nicotine in one cigarette is about 1 milligram.

Now, to Arriva and NICOWater. First, a caveat. I don't know prices on tobacco products. I never will because I never have and never will use. Anyone who thinks it's wise for a 31-year old oral cancer survivor to begin a smoking/chewing program, please e-mail me immediately. I'd love to post such advice. What I'm saying, though, essentially, is that I don't know if these products would be cost-effective replacements for cigarettes.

But back to the article.

Ariva is not the only nicotine-delivery product being slipped through the regulatory cracks. A veritable industry is burgeoning. Consider, for example, NICOWater, which is -- you guessed it -- bottled water spiked with nicotine. When the product was first introduced under a different trade name and marketed as a dietary supplement, the National Center for Tobacco-Free Kids and a coalition of public health groups petitioned the FDA to treat it as an unapproved drug. Last summer, the agency did so and forbade its marketing as a nutritional supplement. But now NICOWater is back, and its new manufacturer is selling it as a "homeopathic formula developed for adult smokers who suffer from the symptoms of tobacco cravings." The public health coalition renewed its petition, but the FDA has so far done nothing -- and its rejection of the same groups' petition concerning Ariva does not promise tough action.

Quit petitioning.

There are two big problems with this state of affairs. The first is that no highly addictive and harmful drug should be marketed without substantial regulatory oversight. It is bad enough that cigarettes themselves should go unregulated by a public health-oriented agency, but it is simply inexcusable that their constituent chemical compounds would be sold in drugstores without triggering the jurisdiction of the agency that supposedly regulates drugs. Moreover, the situation is grossly unfair to drug companies that spend significant time and resources to bring to market traditional nicotine-replacement products under the usual rules of drug and medical device development. Why would smokers buy a heavily regulated and consequently expensive nicotine lozenge when the same nicotine in water is available for far less as a homeopathic formula?

My question exactly. I hope smokers would apply that logic to cigarettes and purchase the water instead. Indeed, there would be MUCH rejoicing in my world. (More later)

The FDA's current impotence concerning tobacco products in general is indefensible -- a situation Congress desperately needs to correct. Yet the FDA does not need to make current law worse than it already is by interpreting its way out of the oversight of nicotine that it is able to perform.

Pleh - you're not thinking straight, author. The FDA's current impotence has been its impotence for a very long time. Congress' job is not to morally orchestrate the US citizens' lives.

To me, products like these seem like godsends to the non-smoking public. I don't care if people ingest nicotine. I don't really even care much about people who smoke themselves to death except to comment that I believe it to be stupid, and I'm thoroughly annoyed with smokers who won't take responsibility for their own tobacco-induced illnesses. What it comes down to for me is that I am extremely irritated and annoyed by having to breathe the foul shit smokers put into MY air, especially indoor air.

But that's just me, and I have some good, valid reasons beyond being a health nut that I'll not go into here. Back on course. If companies want to put out products containing nicotine, let them. Step gently aside, and let it run its course. Isn't tobacco regulation an oxymoron anyway? It's the drug that's harmful to others (namely, me - I'll admit I'm selfish) in proximity to its use.

So, to recap. I don't care if you smoke. Why would I care if you drank/used nicotine products? If you smoke, you already do.

Just what is the big deal here?

hln

Posted by: hln at 03:42 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 746 words, total size 5 kb.

Gag, Cough, Spew, Spit

Gag, Cough, Spew, Spit

Hi, I'm famous. I'm an "expert" (in something). Buy my weight loss book!

hln

Posted by: hln at 08:09 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 26 words, total size 1 kb.

Bizarre, Bizarre

Bizarre, Bizarre

Is it just me, or is this story especially vague?

First, (and foremost) "a rare form of cancer." That could be anything. I dug deeper.

(I'm ignoring the parents' rights versus government "rights" - I have to work soon. There's potential for a really, really long post there, and if someone wants it, go ahead).

Ewing's Sarcoma. (Here's more info on the cancer.)

In this article, I found an interesting fact.

According to police, the family may be on their way to Houston to enroll their son in a clinical trial for another type of cancer treatment.

Alternative treatment? Houston? Hmmmmmm.

Yeah, I found it.

Thought so.

Seeking a different treatment approach, Barbara Jensen and Parker apparently were headed to the Burzynski Clinic for alternative medicine in Houston, Daren Jensen told Idaho authorities after his arrest. Daren Jensen fled to Pocatello with the couple's four other children after the court order.

The Burzynski clinic specializes in a treatment known as antineoplaston therapy, which is in clinical trials with the U.S. Food and Drug Administration.

"Ewing's is a very different form of cancer and we don't have a trial for it," said Mike Goldberg, the clinic's public relations manager.

I know someone who lived because she took Burzynski's antineoplaston therapy at age 11 when her oncologist told her family she wouldn't live to see Christmas (nice, eh?). She's 18 or 19 now and in perfect health - brain tumor long gone.

You'll notice that Ewing's Sarcoma is not something that the clinic has a trial for, which, in simplest terms, means that young Parker will not be treated by Dr. Burzynski.

Parents, pray. Then take your young son to another slew of doctors, whatever it takes to convince you that you need to do SOMETHING...because cancer doesn't simply go away.

hln

Posted by: hln at 07:02 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 306 words, total size 3 kb.

Obese Pets!

Isn't there anything else newsworthy this week? You know, like bombings and killings in Israel/Palestine (too many links to even begin - we're all aware of these things, and if you aren't, well, there's always CNN).

American pets are obese! Damn McDonalds!

Er, I mean, how terrible. You know, I think that's the vet's job to warn you if your animal packs on a few - and then, you know, there are things like diets, which are pretty easy to do with animals. See, house pets lack opposable thumbs, and you can keep the food in the pantry.

Like I should talk - I have two feline bundles of love that are slightly overweight, but not bad.

But, while looking for the article, I found Obese House Pets Petition Richard Simmons for Help.

Everywhere you look, Glenn Reynolds.

Scary.

hln

Posted by: hln at 11:52 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 144 words, total size 1 kb.

Look Ma, a Use for Ankle Weights

So, with my restlessness of being home today, I decided to put the home gym to use. I'm so thankful for it. I did a full body workout today. I learned/reminded myself of a few things. Plate mates rock. I don't do concentration curls correctly. Gotta fix that. Doing crunches while experiencing a rolling stomach: bad. There IS a use for the ankle weights my mother got me at a garage sale. Yes, there are four ankle weights on my leg for a grand total of 20 pounds. If I could fit 6, all the better. The lower pair are the garage sale variety - a bit harsh on the leg since the strap cuts in. The other pair I got while I was in college, thinking that leg lifts with 5 lbs would make my legs more shapely. Ha. I have learned the ways of squat, lunge, press, cables, and cycle. And now I have an improvised home variety for those rare occasions, like today, when I cannot wear shoes and transport myself to the gym. The bad toe/foot is the other. I made sure to hide its maladies from this post. After lifting this evening, I perused the blogosphere via my blogroll, and I found this beauty. As I commented there: 1, ow, and 2, what a funny link. Worth visiting. hln

Posted by: hln at 10:29 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 238 words, total size 2 kb.

Tommy Thompson, Come On Down

Actually, I think that if Bob Barker were to call Tommy Thompson down for some audience exposure, he might treat him in that fight-with-Happy-Gilmore manner. I certainly hope so.

First off - this dude works for the US government. America - you know, that place where, so long as it's legal, you can produce and sell the product. In this case, the product is fast food. It's a product. Fast food restaurants sell the product. Just what is the BIG DEAL? Who tapped you on the shoulder and stated "SPEAK."

I read THIS today. I was sufficiently disturbed. In case you missed it, I preached a similar tangent just a week ago.

So, this dude is telling us how to eat. Drop that cheese, Mr. Thompson. We know you're from Wisconsin, and it'll be hard, but, please, show some rational behavior in recognizing that your constituents (defined as all of America thrown into a gargantuan pile of soup) are NOT rational. My favorite snippets from the Yahoo preachy article:

'I'm going to start giving out awards and singling out ones that are doing good and the ones that aren't,' he told reporters at a food policy conference. 'If I get in trouble, I get in trouble.'

First, what, praytell, is an AWARD! Is it food-based? Oh, obviously, it mustn't be. No brownies for you, McDonald's. I notice that your new salads have fried chicken. Phat! And then we have this:

'It is important to pressure the food industry, the fast food industry, the soft drink society ... getting them to offer healthier foods and put more things on the menu dealing with fruits and vegetables,' he said. 'I don't support lawsuits. I think we can do this as a society.'

Okay, 5 points for you Tommy; lawsuits ain't the answer. Why is this all centered around fast food, though? Would you really go to McDonald's for the McApple. Oh, wait, the McSmoothie. McTofu. McSparagus! Burger King's hearty WhopSoy! Seriously, you think any of this is gonna get ordered? If I had to eat at McDonald's, it'd be a grilled chicken sandwich with just lettuce and tomato and just water to drink. It can be done!

It's not what's on the menu, dork, it's what the consumer's gonna order, pay for, and consume. If Bobby from last week's example is going to visit Fast Food Joint X, he's going to munch on whatever suits his tastes. If he's a healthy eater, he'll make do. If he's not, well, public pressure and fast food menus won't do the trick.

And more:

Banzhaf and other lawyers claim that food companies, just like cigarette producers in the past, are not properly warning consumers that their products may be addictive.

I. just. don't. buy. it. Addictive? Last I looked, the word defined as such - really, you don't need to go there; you know what it means, don't you? Tommy Thompson - helping the American public recognize itself for the sheep it is. Sway those overeaters into healthy McChoices; they'll NEVER NOTICE, right?

Almost forgot:

Thompson, who has recently lost 15 pounds by eating less rice, potatoes and bread, said he prefers government programs that offer cities and food companies incentives to promote healthier lifestyles.

Wow, carbomatic, baby. Amazing - eating less assists with weight loss, especially if you ate too much previously. Tell you what - offer me some "incentives" to promote a healthier lifestyle (oh, wait, I already do that). I could use the cash. I can legally change my name to Boston if we need to work around that city loophole.

What a deal.

hln

Posted by: hln at 10:25 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 613 words, total size 4 kb.

Botox! Botulinum Toxin Type A (baby)

Hmm. I watched television last evening. This alone is probably enough to blog about, the event being so rare, but no, today's topic is far richer than my channel-tuning habits.

I saw my first ad for Botox last night. You know, BOTULISM. Okay, okay, I know it's controlled, but it's still something that affects your nerves and causes muscle inhibition/paralysis - same animal.

This particular advertisement displayed a posse of women (of course) wandering to and fro with perfect white-toothed smiles (wow, does that come with? I mean, free peroxide for the teeth with every shot?) and lean, healthy bodies. Don't you want to be like these people? Redefine sexy in your 30s, 40s, 50s. We all know that frown lines are the death of our sex lives. Come, live in the happy toxin four-month-lasting-little-shots-between the eyes world! With us! You can be...

And so today at lunch I took the Google journey about the side effects of Botox (none to be found readily on the website, that's for sure), and here's what we have.

• Side effects list one - hmm, superficial punctate keratitis.
• Side effects list two - it's a torture implement similar to eyebrow plucking

Okay, point one. The first list is targetted to consumers who are considering the procedure. Superficial punctate keratitis ain't in my everyday vocabulary (which is quite extensive, thankyouverymuch). It is, as you might suspect, a problem of the eye, specifically the cornea, and defined quite nicely in medical soup by Merck.

Of course, the strongest thing to note was the small but direct sentence, "the long-term side effects of Botox Cosmetic remain unknown."

But, remember, folks, like the ad says, It's not magic (so disdain the apothecaries), it's Botox Cosmetic. It hits you right between the eyes.

And I don't need it.

hln

Posted by: hln at 06:40 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 312 words, total size 2 kb.

Gear!

I'm going to break down my sports gear by item, for whimsy's sake, because I have little else of consequence to discuss this evening.

Gloves
1) Batting gloves
2) Weight lifting gloves
3) Cycling gloves

Shoes (and boots!)
1) Softball cleats
2) Cross trainers
3) Cycling clippy-thing shoes
4) Ice skates
5) Rollerblades

Apparel
1) ~10 sports bras
2) Infinite t-shirts
3) 4 pairs of soccer shorts
4) sport socks - who KNOWS how many pairs

Accoutrements
1) Softball bat
2) Cycling helmet
3) Softball glove
4) Knee pads (volleyball)
5) 2 softballs
6) Bike rack (for 3 bikes)
7) Rollerblade pads

Home gym
1) Nautilus incline/decline bench
2) Ankle weights
3) Dumbbells - 5, 7, 10, 12, 15, 20, 25, 30 pounds.
4) Two Pilates tapes

Oh, and the new bike!

Is this not insane? 3/4 of this stuff resides in my vehicle; my poor car has metamorphed into a gear-hauling machine.

Now, what does this all mean? Probably insanity. I was a good girl today and took a day off from the gym, focusing on my sports EQUIPMENT instead.

The bike's pedals were not properly adjusted so the little clippy shoe thingees would clip in properly. I managed to get the left foot clipped while holding on to my credenza in my office (and balancing on the bike). It wouldn't come out, though. So, limber as a flying squirrel, I dismounted somehow and unhooked myself from the shoe, adjusted the tension, put my foot in the shoe, mounted the bike, and repeated this process until I could pop the shoe out with a twisting motion. Stir, beat, then fold - had to do that three more times and test it all. Riding should be tomorrow.

Oh, and, more readership, please. GAINPRO!

hln

Posted by: hln at 09:40 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 296 words, total size 2 kb.

"Are McLawsuits legit?"

On p. 118 of Self magazine's May, 2003 issue, in the center of the page in yellow in the shape of a burger, sits this gem, which contains "yes" and "no" arguments to our friendly above-posted subject.

The "no" arguer has some brains: blah blah blah weight blah "...but litigation isn't the solution." Thank you, next?

The "yes" arguer needs a big shot of rational-thought epinephrine. Get a load of this...verbatim.

"Fast food is a major contributor to obesity. The nutritional information that only a third of chain restaurants provide wasn't necessarily furnished out of the kindness of their hearts. Some fast food companies offered it only after several state attorneys general threatened to sue them for misleading advertising in the 1980s. We know public pressure can effect change, and litigation can make change happen sooner."

This snippet is attributed to Margo Wootan, Ph.D., director of nutrition policy at the Center for Science in the Public Interest in Washington, D.C. Here's some more Dr. Wootenisms. I'll subtitle the articles for you if it's not apparent.

• Obesity is society's fault
• "Americans are constantly induced to spend a little more money to get a lot more food"

I've read two, and enough already.

Drop that french fry, Bob, and take note. You are not an individual. You do not have free thought. See, you dropped the fry when I told you to, didn't you? Obviously, you, Bob American, cannot think for yourself. You haven't the slightest idea that you're possibly overweight because your id desires a super-sized meal...six times a week, and you feed your body with your id. You can't possibly, with the glut of information available from library to library to web site to website site, endeavor to KNOW that behavior of any form has specific consequences. How shocked you would be if only Margo would swoop down with gilded wings and show you THE WAY and incite you to call the sleaziest attorney in town.

Oh, Margo, please. Are you one of those women who's going to insist that all women are oppressed? Perhaps I should write and ask. Obviously, all of those frivlous lawsuits against the tobacco companies are making great strides toward reducing smoking. Suuuuuuuure. Public pressure does nada. I'll give you that, though, if you'll recognize that you're a hemisphere away from linking that public pressure thing to lawsuits reducing obesity. What's next, Ruffles? Frito Lay? The Olive Garden for offering Tour of Italy as "a meal"?

Ugh. Fast food? Subway, please, if you want a gentle suggestion and are on the run. McDonald's, eh, it won't kill you every once in a while, OBVIOUSLY. Just try to keep the frequent nugget miles low, Bob. And skip the lawsuit.

hln

Posted by: hln at 06:19 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 460 words, total size 3 kb.

Run Heather Run

One of the greatest things we humans take for granted is our health. I am and have been for approximately three years in perfect health. This last year has been the best of the three, as I have become one of those gymrats that everyone who's not a gymrat disdains.

But this morning, as I was awakened by the "do-you-want-to-get-up-at-5?" intoned by my husband, I found myself making the 2,154 excuses to myself that I thought I was long past about why I did not want to transport myself to the gym.

*Too tired
*Leg muscles ache, ow, ow
*I'll do Pilates later
*I'll go tomorrow and do more
*It won't hurt me if I don't go
*It's only cardio day - I wouldn't be missing any strength training
*I could go to work early and go to the gym after.
*I could play some Asheron's Call!

See, these are not even eloquent. Nor are they persuasive.

Today is cardio day. My body knows this, as my id so aptly stated in the previous paragraph. The gym has a track encircling it up at about a mezzanine level, and 18 times around is a mile. It's a perfect 60 - 65 degrees, so the moment you start to sweat, you know your muscles are warm enough to stretch or rip (as needed).

Cardio day encompasses many pleasures and tortures. I like the elliptical machine - often do 15 - 30 mins on it on non-cardio-days as the cardio component of a non-all-cardio day. Did you get all that? Good. But, in preparation for this MS 150 thing, I've felt the need to do some adequate self ass-kicking. This is otherwise known as running.

Now, some people are born to run. You see them in shopping malls or grocery stores - their tiny ectomorphic limbs and torsos - sometimes Gollum personified. If you feel the need to scientifically observe, park yourself at a mall near the size 2 racks. Yes, those are they.

I am not one of these people. I am born to lift and grunt, and, in other societies, would likely be one of the first women tapped for manual labor. Tall, good strong back. I would not be your choice of messenger to Marathon.

Alas and excuses aside, this running thing is growing on me. It's fabulous endurance training to get those lungs moving, and dancing happy lungs are good things. Oh, and the endorphins. Oh baby. The body's own opiates? And at that moment when you finally make that self discovery of "hey, I'm breathing normally AND running" - oh baby. Euphoria.

I'm not sure it's entirely just that, though. I find myself want to run in places and at times when it's not appropriate to run (and then, of course, conversely, wishing quite the opposite at the exact moment when my feet should begin doing their thing). This morning, I wanted to run the strangely cobbled hallway from the restroom back to the office location that houses my cubicle. Very strange indeed.

Where does this lead? Well, this morning it meant I ran nearly two miles and walked (which is close to jogging, really) another two or so. And then I applied the old ramrod to my psyche about my lack of effort, and it broke. I found myself laughing. A year ago, if I had told myself, "today you're going to walk a few miles and then run a few (or that amount of exercise in any order), I'd have run (or something else) screaming from the impossibility.

Perspective.

hln

Posted by: hln at 10:00 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 601 words, total size 4 kb.

Oil and Vineger, Salt and Pepper, Vinegar and Pepper, Oil and Salt? Bread

Some things are meant to go together. Today I'd like to discuss vinegar and pepper, so see comma-delimited column three in our title up there on the whiteboard. For lunch today I have a turkey salad (no, really). It consists of that happy-go-lucky bagged salad whose brand I cannot remember, but it has the little perfect shredded carrots, some romaine lettuce, some iceberg lettuce, and some shredded red cabbage mixture. Good stuff. Also present is a smidgeon of reduced-fat skim milk mozzarella cheese. And, of course, this is topped with some leftover turkey from Sunday, the last of the white meat. For a chicken or a turkey salad, the best dressing I can find is a LOT of fresh ground pepper and a similar copious amount of Regina Red Wine Vinegar (with natural Garlic Flavor). Here, Regina, free marketing! And, guess what, no calories! Who said the best things in life weren't free - oh, the sales guys. I discovered this friendly tart vinegar at Lonestar Steakhouse, which is audacious enough to not offer a clear Italian dressing for its salads. Since this is the only flavor of salad dressing with which I will venture to lace my salads, I asked for oil and vinegar, and decided to tough it out. Mmm, liked it so much I had to beg the waitress to divulge the brand name of the restaurant's featured vinegar. That's really all there is to say about that. Since I put oil, water, and bread in my title to entice readers, I should spout off a bit. Bread - staple of human life, can't get enough, but my waistline would argue that all of its padding (of which there should be none) consists of bread and bread products. Bread good. Water - water of choice is Ice Mountain. I don't taste any minerals, and it's in a handy reusable bottle. Coupons often appear in the Sunday paper like lawn fungi - coupons are good. Oil? It doesn't exist unless I'm at Romano's Macaroni Grill. And then it's with its friends bread and pepper. And my salad is graced with a peppy and peppery balsamic vinegarette. And, sadly, it's not free. hln

Posted by: hln at 12:01 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 390 words, total size 2 kb.

Softball

It is April, and todayÂ’s weather warns of an imminent scorching summer. But, this is April, and that warningÂ’s text reads 87 on the bank sign. ItÂ’s the first night of softball season, something I planned to only barely notice this year.

Instead, sucker that I am, I find myself playing for a team I do not know on the Jewish Community Center’s (JCC) Monday night league. On Saturday, I found myself driving to practice for the other team for which I did not plan to play – my friend Bonnie’s Tuesday night team. Three hours, a shin welt, a bruised toe, and a sore right shoulder later, I emptied the day’s infield dust accumulation into the bathtub (for it belongs) and thought about this strange course my summer is taking.

The summer, in my mind, was to be dedicated to training for SeptemberÂ’s MS 150, for, sucker that I am, I have beenÂ…umÂ…suckered into joining the not-yet-established informal-but-soon-to-be-formal cycling team made of some friends and coworkers. And, being the only female in my side of the office, itÂ’s bad form to wimp out. I donÂ’t own a bike, but ever since I decided that this was the summerÂ’s goal, IÂ’ve been doing all the non-bike training things to make this a reality. The bike is to come later this week.

I digress.

Softball. My fond memories of softball are from nine years old until twelve years old. It was in these days that I was in an all-girl league and being bigger and more developed than the other girls was a distinct advantage. I learned my first sports lesson at age nine, when Randy Paape (yes, I remember his name), the seventeen-year-old who was kind enough to coach his little sisterÂ’s team, taught me to never ever ever throw a ball at a person with whom you have not established eye contact. This was humiliating at eight, but it has many practical applications even at thirty. Oh, and Randy played on the BIG peopleÂ’s league (swoon, swoon).

That year, 1981, Thumb Hyde and Fur (Thumb being the thumb of Michigan) won the Sandusky Girls' Minor League Championship. I remember the trip to Dairy Queen (a big deal in a very small town) and my Big Quencher Lemon-Lime Mr. Misty. The trophy reads:

Sandusky Girls (sic) Minor Leag (sic)
1981
Champs

Three years later, we moved to Missouri. Missouri softball in a city is different than small-town softball. A small town lives for its sports, for there is little else to do. In Sandusky, I lived a mere three blocks from the field, which made its home in the center of the residential section of the main part of town. Driving to softball was a new phenomenon; playing on a team with little skill was a new challenge. So, at the end of the season, I was invited to try out for the all-city team or something similar. At age 12, I still hadnÂ’t mastered (or attempted) the slide technique. I was one of three girls cut.

And that was it for softball until last summer, showcasing a twelve year-oldÂ’s skill in a thirty year-oldÂ’s body, complete with a slightly creaky arthritic knee. IÂ’m somewhat apprehensive that IÂ’m coordinated enough to thrive in a team sports environment when we move beyond practice into that strange state of being known as a GAME. But, still, somehow, some things remain the same from youth to adulthood. Hopefully throwing and catching remain intact. BattingÂ’s not a problem; I was 3 for 3 tonight.

Infield dirt is still infield dirt. It doesnÂ’t seem to matter if you mix 17 or 19 different varieties of brown-tinted fine-grained mixtures. I believe the 18th is allspice, but youÂ’d have to ask Dominique, my husbandÂ’s cat; she likes to clean me. I know for a fact that ingredient four is sand. And, as my socks can attest, plain old dirt is definitely present in copious amounts.

Bring on the Tide commercial. ItÂ’s softball season.

hln

Posted by: hln at 09:29 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 669 words, total size 4 kb.