Category Archives: Health

January 20, 2011 · 9:38 am

Slippery salmonella

The Center for Science in the Public Interest, sometimes referred to as the “food police,” is the advocacy group we love to hate. In reality, they do mountains of good in heightening public awareness about healthy eating—by telling us the ugly truth about our favorite indulgences, from buttered popcorn to Mexican food.

Yesterday, the group released a study on food safety, showing how well each of our 50 states detects, investigates and combats food-borne illness. I am proud to say that my state was one of only seven to receive an “A.”

That’s neither here nor there.

Call it the curse of the word nymph, but what made me take notice was not the data but the delivery. A word nymph can detect a mixed metaphor faster than a wood nymph can spot a bull thistle.

In announcing the study, CSPI safety director Caroline Smith DeWaal said, “If a consumer calls and says they have a food-borne illness but there’s no one there to investigate the cause, then outbreaks are just slipping under the radar screen.”

Did she mean “slipping under the radar?” Or did she mean “slipping off the radar screen?”

I’d say, technically, the answer could be both, but not in the same sentence.

What’s the difference? The first originates from “flying below the radar,” which is to go undetected or unnoticed. To be on someone’s radar screen is to receive his or her attention. To be off a person’s radar screen means the person is unaware.

The difference in meaning is extremely subtle, so perhaps I niggle. And yet, hearing the mixed metaphor on the news last night left me with a messy mental image. When Ms. Smith DeWaal said that outbreaks are “slipping under the radar screen,” I immediately wanted to swab the radar screen, and the control panel below it, with an antibacterial wipe.

Did anyone else have the same gut reaction?

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January 7, 2011 · 9:56 am

Like the corners of my mind

Actress Marilu Henner has been getting a lot of air time lately for a rare skill—some are calling it a diagnosis—known as Superior Autobiographical Memory. Henner is one of only six people in the world who are confirmed to have this gift.

She has talked about her gift for years and has recently written a book about it. The book is due out this Spring.

Henner appeared on the Today show yesterday, and maybe some other programs, in follow up to a more in-depth piece that ran on 60 Minutes last month.

I was struck in a deeply personal way upon hearing both of these accounts. I may not have Superior Autobiographical Memory, but I dare say I have something similar. Let’s call mine Excellent Autobiographical Memory. My friends tease me about the details I remember about specific days of specific years—what happened when, what day of the week an occasion fell on, what I was wearing, what song topped the charts and what was going on in the world.

The autobiographical part might seem a bit ego-centric but, as Henner does, I also recall details about other people, conversations we had long ago, what they were wearing (including in many cases, a fragrance) and, often, something about music. I can hear almost any popular song dating back to 1960 and tell you the year it came out. This isn’t superior, maybe not even excellent. But it is my thing.

I don’t know about people with Superior Autobiographical Memory, but I know the birthdays of all my friends and family, without having them written down anywhere. I know my credit card numbers and expiration dates by heart (too much online shopping perhaps?). I even remember the phone number we had when I was six (CL6-2808).

In this blog, I have shared a number of childhood memories that my family members barely remember. Often the memory is as clear as the day it happened, though it’s my memory, and not always 100 percent historically accurate. Usually I’m pretty close.

This is not to say that I have a great memory. I’ve been known to put my car keys in the medicine cabinet. I can be in mid-sentence and forget the simplest of nouns. (Humorist Dave Barry claims the nouns are the first to go.) The day before yesterday, I started out for Jazzercise and ended up at the grocery store on autopilot. Sadly, the names of rivers, mountain ranges, poets and playwrights appearing in crossword puzzles will forever elude me.

Yesterday I wrote about how dancing is considered to have a positive impact on memory. I’m dancing like crazy to keep my wallet out of the refrigerator, while my life’s DVD plays in my hotwired head.

Now where did I leave that crossword puzzle?

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January 6, 2011 · 9:34 am

Dancing for marbles

About 10 years ago, the Albert Einstein College of Medicine completed research, funded by the National Institutes of Health and published in the New England Journal of Medicine, finding that frequent dancing improves mental acuity and protects against dementia better than any other type of physical activity.

Stanford University published an article about the study, not because they are one of the top medical institutions in the country but, and this was news to me, they have a vibrant dance department. They tout the 2001 study and other research to promote the University’s many dance programs.

I’m not sure how this bodes for my personal sharpness or how I will fare into my golden years. Except for a few ballet lessons as a child, and as a pretend go-go dancer in our garage when I was six, I didn’t dance much as a child. Not as a teenager, nor as a young adult, except at weddings. Now, I dance several days a week.

When I was 45, I started doing Jazzercise and, when I’m not sick or travelling, I go most weekdays.

Despite popular belief, Jazzercise is a vigorous total-body workout. It comprises about 35 to 40 minutes of aerobic dance, followed by 20 minutes or so of strength training to music. Still, it’s like going to a party every day. If I weren’t burning some 500 calories an hour, I’d almost feel guilty going. Now, I learn it’s a total-body-and-mind workout.

People thought I was crazy when I wanted to have a Jazzercise party for my 50th birthday, but that’s exactly what I did. I had my 51st at IHOP.

I wonder how many more years before the intelligence kicks in.

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January 1, 2011 · 10:12 am

The List

Every New Year’s Day, the first thing I do is open The Washington Post and read The List, a comparative account of what’s Out and what’s In in the new year. Other papers around the country may publish something similar, but the Post tends to include a few inside-the-Beltway references.

What always strikes me is that I didn’t know so many things were In until they were already Out. Brussels sprouts, for example. Conversely, I am amused to read what’s now In that was already In for me. For example, IHOP is now In. I celebrated my birthday there (by choice) two weeks ago.

Sorry, Betty White, you’ve been replaced by Anne Meara. I’m just glad you’re both enjoying your due glory.

I’ve jotted down a few personal Ins and Outs:

OUT IN
Two spaces after a period One space after a period
Oxford comma No comma
Hot house Central air conditioning
Goose bumps Hot flashes
Real Housewives of anywhere Hot in Cleveland
Coffee, alcohol, chocolate, garlic, onions, tomatoes, fried foods, and late night snacking Hot water and Dexilant happy hours
Zicam Webcam
Pandora jewelry Pandora radio

 

What’s Out and In for you in 2011?

Happy New Year.

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December 28, 2010 · 9:07 am

Time for a change

I promised I’d tell you about the 9:45 a.m. phone call that got me out of bed yesterday.

The call was from my doctor with the results of a recent blood test. Not to worry, the diagnosis was not of a disease and it’s something very common. Just not for me. So I’m bracing myself.

The test results foretell change swirling about our house. All I can do now is wait. For mood swings, hot flashes, maybe a mustache. I have already started losing my thick hair. And now I’ll be growing hair where I don’t want hair. Like on my chin.

I apologize to those with delicate sensibilities for the indelicate subject today. But I also thank the creators of All in the Family who, in 1970, brought a taboo subject into American homes, and playwright Jeanie Linders, who turned a horrific condition into a Broadway musical.

My husband isn’t sure what to make of it all. His first question had to do with the mood swings: “How is this going to differ from how you already are?” At least he didn’t ask that about the mustache.

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December 3, 2010 · 9:35 am

In hot water

Being criticized for one’s drinking is no fun. ’Tis the season during which there is sure to be lots of both going on–drinking and criticizing.

My choice of beverages seems to generate extraordinary criticism. Restaurant servers, flight attendants, even some friends and family are taken aback when I say what I’d like to drink. Many reply with, “That’s so weird.” Then they usually try to talk me into something else.

What’s my poison? Hot water.

Even before before I gave up coffee, hot water has been my drink of choice during the day and after dinner. In a mug or cup, boiled or microwaved. No additives. Plain hot water. I love it.

Often my request is followed by “Do you want tea?” No, thank you. “Wouldn’t you like a slice of lemon?” No, thanks; just the water. “Nothing in the water?” No!  “That’s so weird.”

I get the same reaction when I order a glass of water with no ice. “Surely you’d like ice.” No. Nine servers out of 10 bring it with ice anyway, as if it’s a matter of conscience. I appreciate everyone’s concern, but no means no.

Why is hot water perceived the beverage of Martians?

Hot water is simple. It’s healthy. It’s pure. And it’s better for you than cold water. I’ve heard that drinking hot water improves blood circulation and produces less acid during digestion than cold. This time of year, it helps warm you up without the caffeine or excess acid of coffee, tea or hot chocolate. I don’t know if it’s true, but I’ve read that cold water can aggravate kidney problems and pain, while hot water can be good for the kidneys.

As a public speaking trainer, I bristle when I see a speaker take a glass of ice water to the podium. Cold water constricts the throat muscles and can actually exacerbate a tense or tickly throat, while warm water relaxes the throat.

Health benefits aside, I find hot water warming and comforting. I almost said guilt free, but when people look at me as if I have three heads, I feel like I’m in, well, hot water.

Would I be less of a social outcast if I sipped my beverage out of a martini glass?

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December 1, 2010 · 9:18 am

Senior secrets

How long do you suppose you’ll live? Why? Have you ever known anyone who has lived 100 years or more and attributed a long life to a particular ritual or lifestyle?

If you are lucky enough to be fêted by NBC’s Willard Scott, then you have an opportunity to tell the world your secret to longevity. These secrets can be contradictory—some centenarians attribute their advanced years to eating bacon at every meal and a taking a nightly nip of gin, while others tout a life of temperance.

One of my recent favorites to receive a Smucker’s greeting from Willard was a woman whose secret to staying young is “using Crisco every day, on her face.”

Yesterday, a Jamaican-born Washingtonian turned 107. She has proudly has enjoyed a lifelong relationship with red meat, and shared a few other secrets in a Washington Post interview over the weekend.

Having had a milestone birthday of lesser proportions last year, I now pay attention to long-living seniors, and check to see how my own lifestyle matches up. Betsy Stanford, the 107-year-old honoree, is fastidious. Check. She plays Scrabble and works crossword puzzles. Check, check. She carries the phone numbers of family and friends in her head. Check (in my case, I am afraid I’ll misplace the list).

I’m not quite sure what I think of the key ingredient in Betsy’s daily diet—a Guinness and Ensure smoothie. I may have to give it a try.

What lifestyle secrets have carried you as far as your most recent birthday?

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November 26, 2010 · 3:21 pm

Lest I stumble

My apologies for being late with the blog today. I got lost.

After hearing how much I’d been enjoying the Pandora app on my iPhone, my son suggested something else he thought I’d like: StumbleUpon.com.

For those who have not yet stumbled on it, this service takes subscribers to Web sites, blogs and videos based on what it knows about them. Like Pandora, what StumbleUpon knows about you is based on a little info you provide up front as well as the thumbs up or thumbs down rating you give each site. And, like Pandora, it’s free.

StumbleUpon is described as a discovery engine that uses collaborative filtering and smart recommendation technology. Okay, then.

When I signed up, I provided only some general information about my topics of interest but chose not to fill out a customized profile, detailing everything from my height (5’4”) and Myers Briggs personality type (ENFJ) to my astrological sign (Sagittarius) and political leaning (anarchist; just kidding but that was an option).

I decided I’d first put in only the general information and see where it took me.

The first place the service stumbled upon was a Flickr video of a kitten riding on a turtle.

After that, it directed me to:

  • A site called “belly bites” and specifically to a post on “29 healthiest foods on the planet” (Note to self: tell the system I don’t like titles appearing in lower case letters)
  • Naturopathyworks.com, and an article on food cravings, including a chart that tells you, “If you crave this…” then “What you really need is…” and “Healthy foods that have it”
  • A Flickr recipe for Warm Toasted Marshmallow S’more Bars
  • Another Flickr recipe for Mint Chocolate Chip Cookies. They’re green and look disgusting. Thumbs down.
  • An article in The Globe and Mail:  “Thinness—and female unhappiness—is big business”
  • A Wikipedia entry on the “Neuroscience of Free Will”
  • Quotes from Albert Einstein
  • 15 Palindromes
  • True Stories Told in One Sentence. Thumbs up; I shall return to this one.

Finally, while I discern what all these hits say about me, I will leave you with the last one. I had trouble figuring out where it came from. It simply told a story:

“Girls are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. The boys don’t want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they just get the rotten apples from the ground that aren’t as good, but easy. So the apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they’re amazing. They just have to wait for the right boy to come along, the one who’s brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.”

If StumbleUpon makes me six hours late for posting my daily blog, some self discipline will be in order. Maybe Wikipedia has something on the Neuroscience of Will Power.

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November 25, 2010 · 10:15 am

The little things

Drip, drip, drip. That’s what I awoke to this morning. Cold rain against the window on a dark morning. My sore nose that kept me awake all night in need of Kleenex.

I went to bed angry at the woman who sprayed me with mucus on a four-hour bus ride from New York City on Sunday.

So I woke up this morning in a really bad mood. My throat hurt and my head was pounding. The 40-degree, rainy morning slapped me in the face.

Then I remembered it is Thanksgiving.

After a steaming cup of white tea, appreciation washed over me. I became thankful for tea, Sudafed, Tylenol and for generic-brand cherry-flavored throat spray that expired in 2002 but still brought relief.

Now I am ready to give thanks. Most people will honor the day by expressing their gratitude around the dinner table. Mine would take too long, so I’ll do it here.

Today I am thankful for:

  1. A couple of hours of alone time, while my husband and son run a 10-kilometer race. I will be even more thankful if they return free of injury and colds.
  2. The fact that, even though it was my turn, and yesterday was my stepmother’s birthday, she and my father are hosting dinner today. If I had to do it feeling the way I do, I’d be crying right now.
  3. My son’s safe arrival home, on 420 miles of angry interstate and foggy mountain roads.
  4. Community—my church community, my family and friends, colleagues and clients, the Jazzercise girls and my neighbors
  5. The best weekend ever in New York, and the 25 years of marriage that led to it
  6. Running water, a toilet that flushes, light that comes on whenever I flip a switch, heat (and I hope within the next three weeks, the installation of central air conditioning)
  7. Punctuation
  8. Medication
  9. Elvis, the homeless cat who brightens my life once or twice a day.

Now, let’s watch the parade.

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November 12, 2010 · 9:17 am

Clay pigeon

While on a plane this week, I finished up my November issue of Vanity Fair. Having read all the good stuff, I swept back through my less favorite features, including one called “My Stuff.” Each month this feature asks a celebrity to list his or her favorite clothing items, household furnishings and gadgets.

November’s celeb is Amy Sedaris, author, actress and comedian. In case you were dying to know, her favorite dessert is angel food cake stuffed with ice cream. Another item on her list caught my eye.

Favorite Discovery: Romertopf Clay Pot.

This evoked tremors in me, going back decades, when my parents made their foray into the realm of health food, 10 years before anyone else did. While everyone else was eating Charles Chips and Twinkies, we were eating alfalfa sprouts and carob. Our family swore off salt, refined sugar, bleached flour and any grain that wasn’t in its whole form.

For me, the most dismal piece of this lifestyle was the dreaded Romertopf. Any role this godforsaken pot played in dinner guaranteed a nearly inedible meal—one I thought (but did not dare say) should immediately be Fed Ex’ed to the starving children in Bangladesh.

The Romertopf remains immensely popular to this day, though I can’t imagine why. The pot is designed scientifically to eliminate the need to cook one’s chicken or vegetables in fat, salt or any seasoning for that matter. Purportedly, the clay cooking method brings out the natural flavor of the food. The meal gets its moisture not from butter or olive oil, but by immersing the pot in water before cooking, so that it releases steam while in the oven. Basically, your meal tastes like chicken and/or vegetables and water. Mmmm.

According to the Romertopf’s official website, “If you intend baking bread or sponges, then lining the base with foil or parchment paper will aid easy removal.”

I thought that eggplant tasted like something out of the sink.

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