Let’s Talk About Aspartame Poisoning

Aspartame is a poison, and it has been slowly  poisoning me.

Is that blunt enough?

Earlier this year I was having problems with high blood pressure, serious heart palpitations, swelling of the legs and feet, mental cloudiness, forgetfulness, fatigue, difficulty breathing when lying down, and who knows what else.  I went to my doctor, who immediately told me I had congestive heart failure and put me on beta blockers.  He insisted I see a cardiologist IMMEDIATELY.  It only took three days to get me in to one.

I knew something was horribly wrong, but congestive heart failure just didn’t make sense.  My mother died of CHF, so I know what it looks like.  As serious as my symptoms were, they weren’t what I had seen with her. 

After a heart stress test and an echocardiogram, the cardiologist proclaimed my heart 100% normal and healthy.  After a big sigh of relief I asked the next logical questions:  what’s wrong with me?

What about the terrible palpitations, where my heart felt like it was turning somersaults inside me?  What caused that?  What about the spikes of high blood pressure (I’m normally around 110/65 and was getting into the 170 range)? 

His advice was to quit the beta blockers because I didn’t need them, and be as physically active as possible.  He said his heart jumps around in his chest too, has done it for 20 years, no one knows why, but when it starts flopping around he exercises and it settles down.   He was right – it was worst when I was lying down and best when I was being active.

Glad I got a doctor who could relate.  I was glad to hear my heart was fine, but things still didn’t add up.  Not to mention, my general practitioner wouldn’t believe that there was nothing wrong with my heart.  And there were still all those other symptoms.

I increased my physical activity and started watching my diet for food sensitivities on the theory that SOMETHING had to be causing it.  I identified the vitamins I have taken for years as one cause of the swelling and stopped taking them (vitamins?  really?  YES!).  Over several months I tried eliminating one thing then another, and quickly found it got better if I avoided Diet Coke.  So, I figured carbonation or caffeine must be the culprit.  I have been drinking diet sodas most of my adult life, on average two cans a day – probably more than I should have but not a terrible amount.  I cut it out completely.

But there were days when the problems would be back, when I hadn’t had any carbonated beverages.  Lemonade at McDonald’s seemed to do it.  Some days I had no idea what was causing it.  It had to be something I was eating (or drinking), but what?  The effect was never immediate, and a four to eight hour delay, or sometimes a 24 hour delay, made it hard to pin down exactly what I was reacting to.  I figured early on it had to be an additive that was in a lot of things, and would experiment with the same food or drink several times over a period of days or weeks to determine if I was pinpointing the right thing.

I finally got over my suspicion of carbonation enough to try some Sprite.  No problem.   A week or so later I got brave enought to try some Coke.  Again, no problem. 

What’s the difference between Coke and Diet Coke, except one has sugar and the other has aspartame?  So I researched aspartame online.

Holy cow!  There was my list of symptoms, including leg swelling, mental cloudiness, forgetfulness, fatigue, high blood pressure, and heart palpitations, along with a whole litany of other things (I was experiencing several of them, too).  There is all sorts of information about aspartame poisoning out there, but none of it “official.”  The “official” tests were done by the makers of aspartame, and apparently they and the FDA have known about this from the very beginning.  And kept quiet.

I talked to Katie about it, and she explained to me how they discussed those “rumors” in a nutrition class she took in college, and how they aren’t true.  Aspartame doesn’t do any of those things.  Her professor said so. 

Snopes says so, too.

Who ya’ gonna believe here?  I’m not saying it does this to everyone, but I am saying it does it to me.  And, apparently, lots of other people too.  I’m also saying it crept up on me gradually, making it easy to blame some of the symptoms on aging. 

I can look back and see how long this has been affecting me, and it has been at least ten years.  It was slow and insidious at first, then really accelerated about two years ago and reached a crescendo this past winter.  In fact, if I remember correctly, it was not many years after aspartame was introduced in the 1980’s that I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia - another side effect of aspartame.

So now I read labels, and am still finding it in unexpected places.  Diet cookies and candies are to be expected; same with sugar-free gelatin, or just about anything advertised as sugar-free for that matter.  But then there’s the unexpected… Want to freshen your breath with one of those melting minty breath strips?  Have some aspartame with that. 

I have quit all medications and my blood pressure is back down to 110/65.  My pulse rate has dropped from 90 to 70 beats per minute.  The leg and ankle swelling is mostly gone, my memory has improved, and the fatigue is gone.  Other than quitting the vitamins (I still haven’t figured out what is in them that I react to) the only change I have made is that I have eliminated aspartame from my life.  I now drink water.

It took months for all the chemical remnants of artificial sweetener to get out of my body, and I still  continue to feel better as time passes.  Aspartame was is toxic to me, and apparently to a lot of others too. 

After more than twenty years of aspartame use, the number of its victims is rapidly piling up, and people are figuring out for themselves that aspartame is at the root of their health problems. Patients are teaching their doctors about this nutritional peril, and they are healing themselves with little to no support from traditional medicine.  Sweet Poison

I wonder what this is doing to our children, who are being exposed to it in utero?  I wonder if this has anything to do with the mushrooming epidemic of childhood obesity?  Or adult obesity, for that matter.  I wonder how many people are damaging their health without knowing it, consuming aspartame for years before the damage becomes apparent?

Diet Coke, anyone?

I Won!

It has been crazy around here lately, with my mornings and evenings spent working on a FEMA grant application and my afternoons spent walking door to door passing out flyers and talking to people.  The work paid off though, and once again I was the top vote getter in the trustees race.  The other incumbent came in second, so there will be changes in the board. 

Today was probably the most rugged day of all – take down the signs day.  I started about 9:30 in the morning and finished about 6 in the evening.

I had 25 large wooden signs out – as in half a sheet of plywood each – and almost 150 yeard signs.  Each of those signs meant stop the car or truck, get out, pick up the sign, remove the legs from it, and put it in the vehicle.   Then get back in and drive to the next one.

Two of Katie’s boys went with me in the morning and we had a good time.  They squabbled over whose turn it was to get the next sign, but overall got along well and saved me steps going to get the signs.  Unfortunately, I still had to get out of the car to help them get the legs out of the sign and get it in the trunk.

Bud took half a day off and came home at ten, then he and I went after the big signs and the rest (most) of the little ones.  In the case of the big signs, our routine is that Bud clips the ties that hold it to the farm stakes and I carry the sign to the truck while he takes the stakes out of the ground.  Remember, half a sheet of plywood - 25 times.  I will be sore tomorrow.

The yard signs are much easier to get out, but it’s all those stops and getting in and out.  If there is any justice in the world I will have lost at least five pounds today.

All the signs are still in really good shape, so will be stored in case I decide to continue this craziness in four years.  Who knows.

 

Campaign Finance Reports Are Public Record

If you accept a political donation from someone, it is public record.  If you spend over $1,000 before a certain date or $2,000 on the entire election, you have to file a record showing how you spent it. 

This is important, because one of the men running against me raised over $5,000 and spent over $3,000 before that preliminary date.  I’m certain he has spent a large chunk of the rest since then, mailing out ads.  (I had been warned that he would have lots of money to spend, so in self defense spent waaaay more than I ever have in the past.)

This is also important because - the big town newspaper decided it was important.  As in, he raised more money than anyone else running for any township trustee position or any village office in the entire county.  As in, he also spent more than anyone else.  As in, I am the only other person they mention, and that is only to say I spent just over that $1,000 mark but accepted no cash contributions. 

They could have made it even clearer and said I accepted absolutely no contributions, but they didn’t.  All those in-kind contributions that add up to $1,000 came from my bank account and went to buy things like signs and newspaper ads that were donated to my campaign  – by me.

Anyway, the newspaper names all the big shot Democrats in county government who donated to his cause, and the Teamsters locals all over the state.  Our township is pretty conservative and trends Republican, so their reporting on his finances can’t be a positive here, three days before the election.

I walked for almost six hours yesterday, knocking on doors and talking to people.  I walked three more today, and Katie was with me part of that time.  She had the baby strapped to her, and everyone wanted to see what was under that blanket.  That brought a little levity to the conversations.

I didn’t cover as much ground as I had planned to, but it was cold and windy and I don’t want to end up sick.

Bud and I had dinner at a local dining establishment and ran into the publisher of the small town weekly paper.  He says I should be a shoo in, and I hope he is right.  His paper is not political, but he and I share opinions on occasion.  He’s a nice guy, and it’s good to have a local paper again.

Then, after all the trick or treaters were gone, I went to the fire station to do my annual duty as a judge in the costume contest.  Have you ever tried to judge between six infants, three of whom are dressed as pumpkins and four who are asleep?  Or maybe 20 3 to 5 year olds dressed as pirates and princesses?  They were all so cute!   Anyway, it was a nice end to a busy day.

Three more days and the craziness will be over.

Thanks for the Warning

Do you ever read warning labels that come on products and wonder who on earth thought the American consumer had to be told THAT?

I suppose the question should probably be “what LAWYER thought the American consumer had to be told that.”

I bought a new curling iron recently and have used it several times with its little warning tag still attached.  I saw the blurb about keeping it away from children and wondered if that was really necessary.  I mean, who doesn’t know a curling iron is a burn hazard, not a toy? 

Anyway, today I decided not to be so lazy and finally removed the tag.  I read the ”save your children” bit again, then turned it over to find another warning on the back. 

Ye gads!

 

No crap! 

Did someone out there really try to curl their eyelashes with one, then sue the manufacturer?

Peace and Rest

Sunday was ordained a day of rest for a very good reason.  After a hectic week, we need the respite.

Yesterday was too cold and rainy to do door to door campaigning, so I spent a large portion of it working on a rewrite of the FEMA grant I turned in last month.  Just in time for Halloween, it’s back and as intimidating as ever.  It has to be in by the middle of next week, which coincidentally is right after election day.  Just what I needed to fill all my spare moments.

Earlier in the day I had spent a little time with my bees.  The hive top feeder isn’t sitting flat on the rest of the hive, and I’m afraid the bees will get too cold.  I taped it all together with duct tape, and have pictures of bees stuck all over the inside of the tape in the corner where they zoomed out to attack me.  Ah, but when they hit the cold air they changed their little minds quickly.  Bees don’t fly well in the cold, and survival instinct took over and pulled them back home. 

Today was sunny and mild, probably as good as it will get between now and the election, and it would have been a perfect day for campaigning.  I even had a politician come to my door (What’s my state representative doing out this year?  He’s not up for re-election till next year). 

But it’s Sunday, and I’m resting. 

Dinner is in the oven and Bud is putting sky lights in his new barn.  I’m fixing stuffed pork chops and pumpkin pie spiced butternut squash; I have homemade applesauce to go with it, and Katie is adding broccoli to the meal.

Sunday, the day of rest, given as a gift to prepare us for the next six days.

The Question Is: Why?

I got a copy of one of my opponents’ financial statements today, and he still has a lot of money to spend.  He probably has more left than I have spent during the whole campaign, and he has already spent much more.

During this reporting period he brought in close to $5,000 in donations, with only $100 of it coming from within our township.  He also carried money forward from the last reporting period, so who knows how much he got then.  Almost everything he is reporting comes from Teamsters union locals or officials.

My question is, why would the Teamsters union be so interested in a local race like this that they would send donations from locals in just about every. major. city. in the state?  He has donations from all over the state to help him win this low level position that has almost no impact beyond the township’s borders because….  Why?  What’s in it for them?  There are also donations from Democratic elected officials and prospective candidates in the county, a few donations from individual names that are not local, and then just that one local person. 

If this money buys him an election, it sure won’t be because he is representing the local people.

Actually, as I am out and about in the community I am hearing rumors of people not knowing who he is, wondering where he is getting all his money, feeling like he is trying to buy an election, and deciding not to vote for him.  Who knows how much to believe rumors, though.

I will be so glad when this is over.  I will also be poorer, since I am spending more than I ever have and am accepting no donations.

Two Weeks To Go

I’m getting my exercize and enjoying the fall weather, out walking door to door talking to people and asking for votes.  It is so not me, and I have to give myself a pep talk and shove myself out the door each time I do it, but then enjoy meeting so many nice people and end up having a good time at it. 

That is what I did yesterday, after spending the morning at a county commission meeting with lots of other local elected officials.  We went to complain about the commissioners giving the townships and villages three weeks notice to either agree to pay an increase of 10% PLUS $400 more per month per employee for health insurance, or get booted off their policy.  Nice.  How many months have they been negotiating their contract, and they can’t tell us they are considering this until three weeks before their deadline?  They gave a similar ultimatum to MRDD and Metropolitan Housing, for a total of more than 500 people being affected.

Monday night was spent with assorted township/village/MRDD employees and insurance agents, trying to put something together by the end of the year.  No way it can be done by the end of the month.  At least our current coverage will be in effect till the first of next year.

So, the question is, why am I spending time and money to run for this job that doesn’t pay much, so I can be abused by the public AND thrown under the bus by the county?

Because of all those nice people I meet when I go out there door-to-door asking for votes.  They deserve someone who cares enough to try to do it right.

I’ll be glad when the election is over and life can get back to normal, though.  Two more weeks.

You Might Not Be Mother of the Year If….

You might not be Mother of the Year if:

• You bring your son to church with pink eye.
• You bring your son to church to be ordained a deacon and bring your gay lover along, then sit in the pew with your arms around each other’s shoulder.
• You and your significant other walk around the halls holding hands, while children gawk and stare.
• Your ex has to explain to his Sunday School class (the one your son is in) that one of those two women holding hands is his son’s mother.  “Nuh-uh,” a classmate disagrees, after breathlessly telling the class what she saw.  “Oh, yeah,” your ex says.  Your son sits there quietly.
• After church you tell your ex your son has pink eye (which your ex picked up on within, oh, ten nanoseconds of seeing him), and HE needs to take him to the doctor – tomorrow.  After all, it’s your weekend and he’s with you today.  As he was yesterday.  And the day before.  And the day before that.
• You pull away when your son tries to hold your arm as you walk down the hall, saying, “Don’t touch me!  You have pink eye and I don’t want to get it,”  loud enough for those around to hear.
• You don’t allow your son stay for his first deacon’s quorum class.

And the one that proves you will never be Mother of the Year:

• After his ordination, your son shakes hands with or gives hugs to every single adult in the room – except you and your girlfriend.  You get a blank stare.

When in Rome, do as the Romans.

If you want your lifestyle to be treated with respect, treat that of others with equal respect.

Galatians 6:7   Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.

Sweet Potatoes

Me:  I need to bring in the sweet potatoes before we get a hard frost tonight.

He (with a puzzled look):  You didn’t get any.  I mean, the plants are just vines with nothing on them.

Me:  They’re potatoes.  They grow IN the ground and you dig them up.

He:  Oh.  I knew that.

So, I went out today and dug them up.  I only had a few little starts and I got them in late, so I am amazed at the size of some of the potatoes I dug up.  There aren’t that many, but some of them are huge - bigger than the ones they sell in the grocery store.  They have red skins and dark flesh, but I don’t know what kind they are.  They came from a potato I brought back from South Carolina that sprouted in late winter.

Next year I will  put out more starts  and give them more space. 

I also brought in the last load of butternut squash, a bag full of peppers, a few cherry tomatoes, and some green beans.  The squash have been amazing this year, so I have squash stacked all over from just a few plants.  The same with the Hungarian hot wax peppers.  They always do so much better than the bells, but there were some of those out there too. 

I need to take a day and put the garden to bed for the winter now.  Pull out the dead plants, cover some of the most noxious perennial weeds with newspaper, and spread the last bale of straw I have as far as it will go.  Then I need to check the bees and see if it is time to wrap them for the winter yet.

The problem is, when the weather is nice I want to go door-to-door campaigning.  I did that this afternoon too, and met a lot of nice people.  Word on the street is that I don’t have anything to worry about.  Hope that word is accurate.

A Very Liberal Evening

What an evening! 

I accepted an invitation from a friend today, to attend a lecture with him and his wife at our local radically liberal college.  It was titled something like “Capitalism and Health Care in an Economic Downturn.”  The friend has a background in public health, and we have been emailing back and forth about what is going on in Washington.

I knew going in it was going to be radical, but I had no idea just how bad it would be.  During the presentation the good professor extolled the virtues of health care and life in general in just about every country but our own, at one point going so far as to say that what went on in Russia during the 60’s and 70’s wasn’t communism.  He ended the evening by exhorting the audience to organize and demonstrate for improved social justice programs, since there isn’t enough organizing going on (his words, not mine).

Two middle aged women in the audience kept exclaiming “Wowwww!!!” in breathless tones at all his major points, and my friend said afterward he was humbled by the experience.

Me?  I didn’t belong there and I kept my mouth shut.  I was definitely in enemy territory, with a gaggle of touchy feely people who had a palpable hate of capitalism and almost everything I consider to be the American way of life. 

I’m glad I went though – it was an evening with friends and an opportunity to see how others think.