On drugs: in particular, Darvocet.

I warn you, today I come to write down some reflective but somber news.

I dedicate this post to my Grandma J--she was a wonderful woman, and as I have been baking through her recipe cards, I have felt closer to her this year, closer than I've felt in the past 10 years since she left us.

Oddly enough, as I have been thinking more about Grandma, as well as mind-body stuff (how they are interconnected) I have been pondering why it was that she suffered from a heart attack. From the little I have gathered on spiritual causes of illness, the heart is often associated with joy and love--two things I thought my Grandma had. So from that point of view I have been a bit confused about what was going on with Grandma when she had a sudden heart attack, especially since she was pretty healthy and never had heart issues before.

Well, I recently found out that my Grandmother was on a drug for her back pain for many years, called Darvocet. She was probably on it since the 1980's. As of November of 2010 this drug has been recalled by the FDA and has been pulled off the shelves in the U.S.

Besides the many side effects this drug has (like all drugs), the final straw was that the drug could cause "potentially fatal heart rhythm abnormalities" (US Recall News), and the drug interferes with "the heart's electrical activity" (Darvocetrecall.net).

Since this medication was banned in the U.K. in 2005, it is estimated that between 1,000-2,000 people have additionally died from this drug in the United States the past five years.

With this news, I am convinced that my Grandma may have been another death associated with Darvocet. She passed away in 2001 after suffering a sudden heart attack. I remember the phone call to our home like it was yesterday. I was so shocked at the news, but I was under the impression that heart attacks happen to people for no reason, and I just accepted that fact, like many of us do. They said something went wrong with the electrical in her heart. I didn't know what that meant. I think we were all too shocked to think about an autopsy.

Now that I am 10 years older, and a student in a program that focuses on a whole systems approach to health and well-being, I am learning that heart attacks and cancer are not as mysterious as the American Cancer Association and medical doctors make them out to be. There are some causes that are just starting to surface in our collective awareness, and I believe if we pay attention they will only continue to come to light.

Now I warn again, here is my diatribe that I have to write in honor of my grandmother. I would feel sick inside not to do this for her and anybody else who has been or will be affected by the impact of drugs:

Believe it or not, but I think drugs are one of the causes of many of our health problems. I know this is hard for people to swallow with the current medical paradigm we live within, but I personally believe that while drugs do help MAINTAIN and keep certain people alive, one cannot argue with the fact that these drugs do not CURE/ADDRESS the real problem. In most cases they mask the pain that our wise bodies are trying to send us to alert us that something is wrong. While we go pain free with our new drugs, whatever mechanism that is off in our body that is causing the pain is finding other ways to wreak havoc in the body. Instead of taking a pill to hide and surpress this pain, why not pay attention to it and try to figure out what is causing it in the first place? In most cases, the problem will never really go away if we treat it with drugs.

My grandmother was on this drug for a number of years, and as I said, she suffered a sudden heart attack. The doctors said something happened with the electrical activity of her heart and just like that, she was gone from our lives.

Ten years later, I uncover this piece of Grandma's story. And then I wonder, this drug, Darvocet became available to people in 1957. The FDA banned it in 2010. While I commend the FDA for doing so, why does it take thousands of deaths to get us to this level of protection? And how come it took 53 years for it to happen? How many generations were impacted over the years? How many more people were affected? I am thankful people have spoken up, because had it not been for this collective awareness, my family would never have come to this conclusion on our own.

I am upset today because our system is flawed, our checks and balances are imbalanced and the people who pay the price are the consumers, you and me. For more expansion and details on how I came to this conclusion, please read Marcia Angell's The Truth About Drug Companies for an alarming account of the histories and operations of drug companies. See how you feel about drugs after that book.

All I ask of you is to please think twice before you take a pill. Think first, do I really need to be doing this? Because chances are there have not been enough studies to prove that the drug is safe. And let's just face our limitations: it is impossible to know if the drug is safe until humans have taken the drug for enough years to see what may develop. We are the living case studies.

We don't even know how these drugs impact generations to come.

"For instance, fruit flies exposed to a drug called geldanamycin show unusual outgrowths on their eyes that can last through at least 13 generations of offspring even though no change in DNA has occurred (and generations 2 through 13 were not directly exposed to the drug)" (As mentioned in Time). Do we really want to commit to unnecessary drugs that may impact the health our future generations?

Bottom line: Don't do drugs. We learned this from grade school. I remember when the D.A.R.E. program came to visit my elementary school, and funny enough I recently read my little paragraph on how I planned to stay drug-free. I believe it was my pledge.

What worked for me in 5th grade is worth a read:

"I have plenty of ways to say No."
Like:
"I'm saving all my brain cells for science."
"Chocolate and alcohol don't mix."
"If I wanted the high life I'd rather go skydiving."
"Just plain NO!!!!"

While things have changed for me on a superficial level--wine and chocolate definitely work for me now that I am of age, and I am slightly cooler now than I was in 5th grade, I still strongly believe that we should say NO to drugs when it's possible. That is my conclusion.

And, Grandma, I love you. This post is for you. My dedication to the field of health is for you. I think about you all the time, and I'm doing my part to see if there is anything that can be done about what happened to you.

The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein-- a sappy tribute to my mother on her upcoming b-day

The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein

Once there was a tree...and she loved a little boy.

And every day the boy would come..and he would gather her leaves..
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.

He would climb up her trunk..and swing from her branches..
and eat apples.

And they would play hide-and-go-seek.

And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade.

And the boy loved the tree...very much.
And the tree was happy.

But time went by...
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.

Then one day the boy came to the tree and the tree said, "Come, Boy, come and climb up my trunk and swing from my branches..and eat apples and play in my shade and...be happy..."

"I am too big to climb and play," said the boy.
"I want to buy things and have fun. I want some money. Can you give me some money?"....

"I am sorry," said the tree, "but I have no money. I have only leaves and apples.
Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in the city.
Then you will have money and you will be happy."

And so the boy climbed up the tree...and gathered her apples and carried them away.

And the tree was happy...!

But the boy stayed away for a long time...and the tree was sad.

And then one day the boy came back and the tree shook with joy and she said, "Come, Boy, climb up my trunk... and swing from my branches...and be happy."

"I am too busy to climb trees," said the boy.
"I want a house to keep me warm," he said.
"I want a wife and I want children, and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house?"
"I have no house," said the tree.
"The forest is my house, but you may cut off my branches and build a house. Then you will be happy."

And so the boy cut off her branches and carried them away to build his house.

And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time.
And when he came back, the tree was so happy she could hardly speak.

"Come, Boy," she whispered, "come and play."
"I am too old and sad to play," said the boy.
"I want a boat that will take me far away from here. Can you give me a boat?"

...."Cut down my trunk and make a boat," said the tree.
"Then you can sail away...and be happy."

And so the boy cut down her trunk and made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy... but not really.

And after a long time the boy came back again.
"I am sorry, Boy," said the tree, "but I have nothing left to give you ...
My apples are gone."
"My teeth are too weak for apples," said the boy.
"My branches are gone," said the tree. "You cannot swing on them..."
"I am too old to swing on branches," said the boy.
"My trunk is gone," said the tree. "You cannot climb..."
"I am too tired to climb," said the boy.
"I am sorry," sighed the tree. "I wish that I could give you something... but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump. I am sorry..."

"I don't need very much now," said the boy, "just a quiet place to sit and rest. I am very tired." "Well," said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could, "well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. come, Boy, sit down.
Sit down and rest."

And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.

____________________________

It's my mother's birthday this Thursday, September 11th. It's a very emotional day for America, and of course it is emotional for my mother, because not only was she born this day, but she loves America very, very much. She is the type of mother who
can sit and watch an Oprah show or any show really, even a sports-related story, and she will need a box of tissue nearby to catch her tears of joy or her tears of sorrow. While she is strong as an ox when it comes to all other matters in her life, the little human stories that are not her own, seem to touch her so deeply. She feels so connected to them, and she feels a deep compassion for other people.

It is not just other people she feels compassion for. She especially, must feel a deep compassion for me, as I am a very stubborn and sometimes a hard to be around person, I can be very strong-willed, but sometimes hot-tempered and offensive, but even in my most unpleasant moments, she has loved me and taken the high road every time. She has never lost her cool, she has never told me I am wrong or that I am right or that I am just a young inexperienced fool; she just listens patiently and she just is there for me and she trusts I will make my own decisions and grow appropriately on my own.

Over the years I have tried not to take advantage of her genuine love and trust for me, a love that definitely is unconditional, a love that is challenging and a love that is untouchable. She laughs with me when I am happy, and she cries for me when she sees me live through the not-so-happy times. While she cannot grow up for me, she is there 100% of the time. She has always been there. When I was in Europe, suffering from health problems, in a country with no old friends and with foreign language and foreign doctors, my mother was on the line til dawn or dusk to talk me to sleep, to tell me that she loved me, that everything would be okay. I knew she was scared (as she told me later), but she never once showed it to me, she was brave, strong and she provided me with courage. When I was young and kids were picking on me in elementary school, my mom was there, somedays even crying with me, because she saw the pain and loneliness I was feeling and she could not bear it. When I played ball, when I needed a home cooked meal or help cleaning or organizing, or when I needed to be scolded, she was there. Always like the giving tree, when I have needed her she has been there and ready to offer me whatever she could.

My mom (and I will extend this to parents here), have truly given me more than I could ever imagine. And this poem is just so beautiful and slightly sad to me, because little do we ever realize and appreciate what our parents have really given us. The visual representation alone of a tree giving away all of its apples, branches, and trunk (its wholeself) to a little boy who just carelessly leaves the tree to be alone is nuts and almost seems fiction, nowadays. This tree decides to give up part of iself and part of its life, its own wants and needs to help fulfill the boy's life, the boy's happiness. This giving somehow gives the tree its happiness and fulfillment. But this story is not fiction for me. This tree is my mother, and this tree is my father. And as hard as it is to say, because I have never tried to take advantage of their hospitality and blind love, I still can see myself in that little boy-- who only comes by every so often and only calls when he needs something or wants to talk--I know a person who can be like that, and that person can be me.

Recently I have put forth lots of effort to see my parents once a week, but really I note it can be out of convenience, either my friends are in town or I had a volleyball game, etc. And after reading this poem, I realized again how lucky I am to have such givers in my life; they have truly provided me with the opportunity to do something great--to also give to others.

But the greatest thing I think I can do at this point in my life, and I am really going to try to do more often, is simply remind myself of the importance of my parents and the lessons they have taught me and never let them feel lonely or forget that I know what I have been given. And instead of thinking about the fact that I can never give to them in the same way they have given to me, I can only hope, that someday in the far future I will give to my children like my parents have given to me. And this is why I see importance in growing a family and providing for somebody other than yourself. Because whether or not we like to admit, when we are like 50 or 60, I don't care how hot or smart you think you are, for most of us, or for me anyway, it is children that really hold the future and who are full of so much life. And to be able to be a part of that--a contributor to a family, to a new generation, is one of the luckiest and greatest gifts to look forward to when I grow gray, even if it means I might be reduced to a sometimes lonely but more important, happy stump. :)