Category Archives: social behavior

The Drug.

civic commentary, commentary, contemplation, coronavirus, healing, health and wellness, medicine, political commentary, politics, social behavior, social commentary, truth, Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Last year, one of our local metabolic disease specialists decided that, since my A1C was 5.8, I should begin Metformin immediately. Now, those who know me recognize my hesitation with regard to most all pharmaceuticals. But, being as thorough as he is passionate and enthusiastic, my doctor eagerly presented a fascinating feature of this drug; apparently, one of its unexpected side effects was a remarkable capacity to reverse cell aging; in short, the Fountain of Sustained Youth. “Everyone should take Metformin!!”, he joyously exclaimed. I was reluctantly, but curiously, convinced.
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After taking the drug for about ten days and, rather than any noticeable reversal of jowl or jiggle, enduring two Bouts of the Bathroom I started researching the drug myself. What I unearthed was startling.
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Apparently, like more and more pharmaceuticals of our outsourced age, Metformin was formulated and manufactured both in Europe and in the US. And, the batch from Europe had not so recently been found to contain a chemical, perhaps a by product of the process, perhaps an unsourced contaminant, known to be carcinogenic. European drug makers had ceased dispensing the drug, until it could be determined with certainty that their formulation was clear of any contamination. But, with regard to its own manufacture, the US showed no intention of doing the same.
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With increased curiosity, and much concern, I contacted the doctor’s office. In short order, and second hand, I was told that his position held that the suspected risks were outweighed by the known benefits. Nevertheless I chose, after further research and a second opinion, to substitute Metformin with the naturally derived Berberine.
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Why am I telling you this?
[ because we’re sick of self-aggrandizing videos ]
[ because you write better than you talk ]
[ because don’t care ]
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Ever since it burst upon our scene from the lips of our current POTUS, Hydroxychloroquine has enjoyed a horrible notoriety. From Cause Of Death to dangerous heart arrhythmia, we’ve been urgently warned by the press to shun it. Some believe this rejection a political move; others hold that science has rendered a verdict.
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But, what of countries like Poland, and even certain sectors of the US, where this anti-malaria drug is available over the counter as easily as aspirin? According to the friend of a friend, herself a Pole, most of the citizens of Poland took the drug during the Italian viral scourge at the first symptom and have maintained very low covid-19 death stats to the present.
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And, what of specific cocktails, i.e. Hydroxychloroquine + Zinc, the latter mineral known to halt coronaviral replications, touted by the admittedly radical Dr. Stella Immanuel? She was emphatic; her cocktail worked, saving the lives of 350 of her own patients.
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I can’t vet Dr. Immanuel. Nor can I vet the story of the Polish woman. But, I can say that, given the fact that so many individual drug formulations are manufactured in multiple countries – particularly generic equivalents – I can fairly speculate that Hydroxychloroquine may be a safe formulation in Europe and one sketchy at best if manufactured elsewhere. Or, perhaps, taken in combination with certain other drugs already part of a given patient’s protocol (those with pre-existing syndromes or conditions) may very well provoke the heart arrhythmias/electrical problems disclosed by the press.
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My final analysis, given the limited information currently available to me, is that the verdict on the efficacy vs. the alleged threat of Hydroxychloroquine is decidedly n.o.t. in. Here’s hoping some group from within the legitimate scientific community can hasten to investigate. With increasing urgency, our lives appear to depend on it.
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© 8/8/2020    Ruth Ann Scanzillo.   Please share liberally, with credit to source. Thank you.
littlebarefeetblog.com

My Mammy’s Touch.

contemplation, family history, grief, healing, human behavior, memorials, nostalgia, personal testimony, psychology, public education, relationships, social behavior, social commentary, sociology, truth, Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Mae Elisabeth [Learn] Sweet was my maternal grandmother. Her first grandchild, Alan Marshall, called her “Mammy”, and it stuck; she, and her husband, would be Mammy and Pappy to all 19 grandkids, thereafter. Let me tell you about her.
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Mammy (seen in this photo, at about 95 years) was widely regarded by all who knew her as a human saint. She was the absolute sweetest, most loving, most gentle, most prayerful, hardworking, resourceful, generous, forgiving person anybody knew. Her character made most men whither. She prayed, daily, for everyone she knew, whenever they “came to mind.” I am not alone in believing that she was nearly psychic, able to attune to the slightest and most immediate needs among her brood, and beyond. And, when mum met dad on the train and began to write letters to him, placing those letters in the iron mailbox just outside the front door on the porch wall for the mailman to pick up and deliver, Mammy would discreetly take those letters and cross off the final two syllables of dad’s surname. Mum told me this, having discovered the act. Why did Mammy do that? Mammy did that, not because she wasn’t a loving, caring, forgiving, generous, prayerful, hardworking, resourceful mother and grandmother, but because systemic racism had borne itself out, in her; dad was Italian, and he was a source of shame to her. She had to remove the final two syllables of his last name, to make it appear different than the identifying  ” – zillo” which appeared naturally.
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Was it Mammy’s fault, that she behaved this way? Did her actions arise out of some corrosive gangrene in her soul? No; it did not. It emerged because she had been taught by her Eastern Pennsylvanian, Danish/English/Germanic societal roots, to regard Italians as second class citizens, as shameful members of American society.
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And, it is just such deeply rooted, largely subconscious behavior toward people of color which those of American “white” society have and continue to portray, however subtley however fleetingly however rarely, in their actions throughout the generations.
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In 1944, mum married dad. Almost ten years later, after a nearly decade long divorce, they remarried. I was their second child, and favored my father; my hair was black, my skin was dark. And, Mammy was fond of stroking my face, doing so every time I would sit beside her. She would regularly exclaim at the beauty of my skin, its softness, and smile with deep fondness into my eyes.
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It’s my belief that my birth changed my Mammy, ever more; she realized, and thereafter made conscious effort, to appreciate that which she had been taught to shame. And, in just such the same manner, only when we reach out and touch that which we are taught to revile will we ever hope to heal from hate.
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© 6/28/2020     Ruth Ann Scanzillo.     All rights those of the author, whose story it is and whose name appears above this line. Thank you for respecting the rights of authorship.
littlebarefeetblog.com