For whatever reason, I've noticed a correlation between women and woo. Astrology. Jade eggs. Homeopathy. Women are also more religious than men. If there's no science behind something, there are usually more women who believe in it.
I can't claim to know the full reason why- my guess is there are a lot of reasons. One I hear spelled out a lot is that science is a male-dominated field. So science and modern medicine are characterized as "male ways of knowing," unfairly pushing out the traditions of our foremothers.
This narrative isn't entirely wrong. Our society has the bad habit of doing a tiny bit of scientific exploration, understanding five percent of a thing, jumping in with both feet, and only later realizing that was dangerously stupid. For instance, do you remember when x-rays were thrown around heedlessly- x-rays of laboring women, x-rays to kill ear infections, x-rays to measure children's feet for shoes? Science had gotten far enough to know what it could do, and not far enough to know what it couldn't. Likewise thalidomide, low-fat diets supplemented by corn syrup and cigarettes, and so on. A little more respect for tradition would have stopped people from diving headlong into new fads they didn't fully understand.
Likewise, for a long time doctors were worse at healing people than your granny. Neither could do much for you, but at least granny hadn't come straight from dissecting a corpse without washing her hands. To this day, obstetrics and gynecology, in practice, clings to disproven tactics like episiotomies, supine positioning, and immediate cord clamping, which any midwife could tell you aren't helping. No wonder women, whose first extended encounter with the medical profession might be when giving birth, don't trust doctors.
I'm definitely the first person to tell you the medical profession isn't perfect, or that there are a lot of things science doesn't know. But the root of science and medicine is not the bad practices of clueless doctors. The root is, or should be, the scientific method- testing claims and finding out whether or not they are true. Applied to medicine, this means randomized, controlled trials wherever possible. You don't just take a medicine and see if you feel better, because that doesn't account for randomness - you might have felt better anyway. Instead you give a hundred people the medicine, give a hundred people a sugar pill, and see what percentage of each group gets better.
This practice is what turned medicine from a haphazard collection of folk remedies and bloodletting into something that saves billions of lives. Infant mortality is a fraction of what it was. Lifespans are decades longer. Modern medicine emphatically does work, and it all came from testing remedies and carefully recording the results.
What is masculine about testing things to see if they work? Nothing at all! Dr. Gerty Cori, Dr. Helen Brooke Taussig, and Dr. Virginia Apgar would be offended at the notion. Female doctors and medical researchers have been told for generations that they couldn't have access to medical research- the thing that actually works- because it wasn't for women. But instead, excluding them was the real unscientific, purely tradition-based choice.
Is it possible that women think differently from men? Sure! But if we define it purely in the sense of "finding things out more by ways that are unrelated to truth than by ways that can be tested," all that means is dooming women to be wrong a lot. Tradition is at best a middling way of finding out what works. Gut feelings are even worse. "I feel more connected to myself when I shove a jade egg up my vagina" tells us nothing about whether it's safe or effective for any condition.
Maybe women are better at actually waiting and learning more before leaping headlong into a new discovery. For instance, Frances Oldham Kelsey was the FDA director who refused to approve thalidomide without more testing, thus preventing untold numbers of prenatal deaths and disabilities. Was it because she was a woman, or just because she was conscientious and patient? Who knows.
More contributions of women might also lead to advances in obstetric care, more resources being spent on women's conditions like endometriosis, and more credence given to women's expressions of pain. Medicine (and science in general) aren't finished; there's plenty of improvement available.
But the answer isn't to abandon the whole idea of the demonstrable and turn to woo. If you go to your doctor with pain and he dismisses you, that means you need a better doctor. If there isn't one, that's a terrible thing and tells you something about the state of medicine today. It doesn't tell you medicine is a tool of the patriarchy and true healing is only to be found by rubbing oil on your belly, shoving a rock up your nethers, and blaming retrograde Mercury. If you're going to turn to alternative medicine (as plenty of women do, including me, because of a lack of workable options within the system), you can still choose things whose safety and effectiveness have been studied. This is true of a select few essential oils, a few nutritional regimes (pro tip: anything that includes eating more vegetables will do you at least some good), many of the things trained midwives do, and so on. Your average thing trumpeted by naturalist celebrities doesn't qualify, and it won't start qualifying just because they sell it in a feminist wrapping.
Don't leave science to men because they think it's theirs. It belongs to everyone. It belongs to us.
Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 27, 2019
Sunday, May 20, 2018
Body horror and alternative medicine
I've been thinking lately about how the emotions of disgust, horror, and fear lead people to reject conventional medicine and sometimes to turn to alternative cures.
All humans have a disgust reaction. It keeps us from pooping where we eat, among other things. But I've noticed there's a wide variety in the things people feel disgusted by. These can be personal or mediated by our culture. For instance, people in my culture are generally disgusted by the thought of eating bugs, because we don't eat them. However, people in my culture usually are fine with the thought of eating clams or shrimp, while I can't make myself put those things in my mouth.
Disgust goes beyond eating, though. Feelings of disgust may underlie some of our moral choices, such as sexual rules. There may be reasons why we think incest is wrong, but those reasons are strongly reinforced by a feeling of, "incest, ick, that's just wrong."
For me, the thing I have the strongest disgust reaction to is what I've heard called "body horror." You know, blood, guts, and gore. But violent injury is not as disgusting to me as medical scenes - like that scene in House where they trepan a lady's skull with a rock drill. *shudder* The thought of the body out of place or invaded, or foreign substances inside the body, makes my skin crawl. It's the worst.
I don't think this stems from any particular trauma; I had very little contact with doctors as a child since I was in excellent health. But I have always hated having to take medicine ... the thought of the foreign substance inside my body, changing it, switching functions off and on ... brr! I have slowly, with effort, gotten used to ibuprofen, but cough medicine still requires a little pep talk. Needles are worse. But, given the choice, I'd rather have blood drawn than anything injected. If you get blood drawn, the second the needle is pulled out the horror is gone, but when you get a shot, that foreign substance is still inside you. I get all kinds of psychosomatic reactions to shots; I always feel like I am going to get sick from them, though I never have.
Anyway, I can say, with the wisdom of hindsight, that a lot of why I didn't want to get vaccines for my kids stemmed from this emotional reaction. Shots are scary and feel dangerous to me, so why would I get them for my kids? And any book or article that confirmed that they were scary and dangerous felt very believable to me.
So why, after all this fear and disgust of doctors, would people turn to alternative providers? Well, I think alternative providers are well aware of who they're dealing with, and so they're very careful to avoid provoking the same reaction. Look, it's just a plant! So basically it's like drinking tea or eating salad. Look, you don't even have to eat this one, just diffuse it in the air or rub it on the skin! See, I'll just give you a special massage and your own body will heal itself!
But sometimes, these providers play with that reaction in a way that's more sinister. What is grosser than having to take medicine? Parasites. And that's why so many of these weird made-up diseases that alternative providers claim to treat are parasitic -- worms, tick-born diseases, fungal overgrowth. Stuff that's so icky that people will take literally any medication -- turpentine, bleach, IV antibiotics -- to get rid of it. I struggled even to study parasitic diseases in middle school because they're so gross, and I would always feel like I was getting symptoms of them. There can be no actual evidence that the person has any parasites, but as long as they're thinking of parasites, they feel awful and want someone to treat them. And that's my theory as to why people who believe in chronic Lyme often claim to have any number of other tick-born diseases. If you rule out Lyme, why would your next idea be a more rare illness also transmitted by ticks? The answer is, ticks are super gross. I have been scared of ticks long before I found out about Lyme disease because they are horrifying. It's easy to convince people they are basically biological time-bombs waiting to go off. And if it has the side effect of making parents paranoid about ever letting their children play outside . . . who cares? The quack still gets paid.
Medicine is a really difficult field, in part, because of all this subjectivity. If you feel like you're sick, you can convince yourself you're sick. If you think you're taking a cure, suddenly you stop noticing your symptoms. And, of course, people spontaneously fall sick and get well all the time. I've been reading about medical history lately, and it's just fascinating how many crazy cures people strongly believed in -- because they had tried them and the person had gotten better. Only in the past 200 years ago have we really gotten serious about controlling those results by seeing if people get well more or less often on their own or with the treatment. Without that, it really is a mess. I remember thinking for months that Marko had food sensitivities because of his random screaming and refusing to nurse. I cut out basically everything and it seemed to help ... or else he grew out of that stage. Who can say? I eventually added everything back in and he was fine. And then like a year later he had night terrors and I tried doing it all over. But after awhile I decided that I'd never be able to sort out the different foods it could be when the behaviors I had an issue with were intermittent anyway.
Alternative medicine throws out the whole model of control groups and random studies and instead says: just try the thing and see if you get better. If you do, that proves it works! They're basically working on all our biases and inability to generalize, as well as our fear and disgust of medical procedures, so that we'll buy their products.
It's funny that I should turn from being so crunchy to writing posts against alternative medicine, but I just get mad realizing how easily manipulated I was. I really needed to believe that only what is natural is good, that my body could heal itself of anything, that if I ate right I'd never be sick. My one salvation was that I was too cheap to buy any of the expensive cure-alls. I stuck to elimination diets and fermented vegetables (which I still believe in, though they probably won't cure cancer) and never going to the doctor. There are worse things. Some people spend fortunes on natural treatments. Some develop such food anxiety that they pour every ounce of their energy on making sure no white flour passes their children's lips. Some miss serious illnesses because they won't see a real doctor for them. And some have serious reactions to the supposedly "safe" medicines they've taken. And that really upsets me. It's taken thousands of years for medicine to get to the state where it finally does more good than harm, and people want to throw it away and go back to the good old days where one in three children died before five.
What should be done? Well, I could certainly wish that mainstream doctors were more considerate of people's feelings. I often feel that they find patients' emotions a burden they don't want to deal with. Maybe it has something to do with med school being so grueling that it weeds out patient, empathetic people early on. Or maybe they just have to see too many patients a day. Doctors should take the time to explain risks and benefits of everything, and make sure the patient feels like the agent of his care rather than having it forced on him. I also think people should be better educated about biology, so that kids graduate from high school knowing how to read a study and differentiate a high-quality study from one that isn't. Everyone should be taught in school about the history of medicine -- how common diseases were before we found out how to cure them, and how we managed to prove the germ theory of disease. (Even today there are people insisting it's "just a theory.")
And for me, I have learned to accept that my reaction of horror to a treatment tells me nothing about whether that treatment is any good for me. Luckily my kids don't seem to feel the same. They're scared of shots, but when the shot is over, they like to think of their cells making antibodies to fight germs. I'm glad they haven't got my hangups. For me, it's all I can do to drag myself to the doctor more often than never.
All humans have a disgust reaction. It keeps us from pooping where we eat, among other things. But I've noticed there's a wide variety in the things people feel disgusted by. These can be personal or mediated by our culture. For instance, people in my culture are generally disgusted by the thought of eating bugs, because we don't eat them. However, people in my culture usually are fine with the thought of eating clams or shrimp, while I can't make myself put those things in my mouth.
Disgust goes beyond eating, though. Feelings of disgust may underlie some of our moral choices, such as sexual rules. There may be reasons why we think incest is wrong, but those reasons are strongly reinforced by a feeling of, "incest, ick, that's just wrong."
For me, the thing I have the strongest disgust reaction to is what I've heard called "body horror." You know, blood, guts, and gore. But violent injury is not as disgusting to me as medical scenes - like that scene in House where they trepan a lady's skull with a rock drill. *shudder* The thought of the body out of place or invaded, or foreign substances inside the body, makes my skin crawl. It's the worst.
I don't think this stems from any particular trauma; I had very little contact with doctors as a child since I was in excellent health. But I have always hated having to take medicine ... the thought of the foreign substance inside my body, changing it, switching functions off and on ... brr! I have slowly, with effort, gotten used to ibuprofen, but cough medicine still requires a little pep talk. Needles are worse. But, given the choice, I'd rather have blood drawn than anything injected. If you get blood drawn, the second the needle is pulled out the horror is gone, but when you get a shot, that foreign substance is still inside you. I get all kinds of psychosomatic reactions to shots; I always feel like I am going to get sick from them, though I never have.
People in the 18th century worried vaccines would turn them into cows
Anyway, I can say, with the wisdom of hindsight, that a lot of why I didn't want to get vaccines for my kids stemmed from this emotional reaction. Shots are scary and feel dangerous to me, so why would I get them for my kids? And any book or article that confirmed that they were scary and dangerous felt very believable to me.
So why, after all this fear and disgust of doctors, would people turn to alternative providers? Well, I think alternative providers are well aware of who they're dealing with, and so they're very careful to avoid provoking the same reaction. Look, it's just a plant! So basically it's like drinking tea or eating salad. Look, you don't even have to eat this one, just diffuse it in the air or rub it on the skin! See, I'll just give you a special massage and your own body will heal itself!
But sometimes, these providers play with that reaction in a way that's more sinister. What is grosser than having to take medicine? Parasites. And that's why so many of these weird made-up diseases that alternative providers claim to treat are parasitic -- worms, tick-born diseases, fungal overgrowth. Stuff that's so icky that people will take literally any medication -- turpentine, bleach, IV antibiotics -- to get rid of it. I struggled even to study parasitic diseases in middle school because they're so gross, and I would always feel like I was getting symptoms of them. There can be no actual evidence that the person has any parasites, but as long as they're thinking of parasites, they feel awful and want someone to treat them. And that's my theory as to why people who believe in chronic Lyme often claim to have any number of other tick-born diseases. If you rule out Lyme, why would your next idea be a more rare illness also transmitted by ticks? The answer is, ticks are super gross. I have been scared of ticks long before I found out about Lyme disease because they are horrifying. It's easy to convince people they are basically biological time-bombs waiting to go off. And if it has the side effect of making parents paranoid about ever letting their children play outside . . . who cares? The quack still gets paid.
Medicine is a really difficult field, in part, because of all this subjectivity. If you feel like you're sick, you can convince yourself you're sick. If you think you're taking a cure, suddenly you stop noticing your symptoms. And, of course, people spontaneously fall sick and get well all the time. I've been reading about medical history lately, and it's just fascinating how many crazy cures people strongly believed in -- because they had tried them and the person had gotten better. Only in the past 200 years ago have we really gotten serious about controlling those results by seeing if people get well more or less often on their own or with the treatment. Without that, it really is a mess. I remember thinking for months that Marko had food sensitivities because of his random screaming and refusing to nurse. I cut out basically everything and it seemed to help ... or else he grew out of that stage. Who can say? I eventually added everything back in and he was fine. And then like a year later he had night terrors and I tried doing it all over. But after awhile I decided that I'd never be able to sort out the different foods it could be when the behaviors I had an issue with were intermittent anyway.
Alternative medicine throws out the whole model of control groups and random studies and instead says: just try the thing and see if you get better. If you do, that proves it works! They're basically working on all our biases and inability to generalize, as well as our fear and disgust of medical procedures, so that we'll buy their products.
It's funny that I should turn from being so crunchy to writing posts against alternative medicine, but I just get mad realizing how easily manipulated I was. I really needed to believe that only what is natural is good, that my body could heal itself of anything, that if I ate right I'd never be sick. My one salvation was that I was too cheap to buy any of the expensive cure-alls. I stuck to elimination diets and fermented vegetables (which I still believe in, though they probably won't cure cancer) and never going to the doctor. There are worse things. Some people spend fortunes on natural treatments. Some develop such food anxiety that they pour every ounce of their energy on making sure no white flour passes their children's lips. Some miss serious illnesses because they won't see a real doctor for them. And some have serious reactions to the supposedly "safe" medicines they've taken. And that really upsets me. It's taken thousands of years for medicine to get to the state where it finally does more good than harm, and people want to throw it away and go back to the good old days where one in three children died before five.
What should be done? Well, I could certainly wish that mainstream doctors were more considerate of people's feelings. I often feel that they find patients' emotions a burden they don't want to deal with. Maybe it has something to do with med school being so grueling that it weeds out patient, empathetic people early on. Or maybe they just have to see too many patients a day. Doctors should take the time to explain risks and benefits of everything, and make sure the patient feels like the agent of his care rather than having it forced on him. I also think people should be better educated about biology, so that kids graduate from high school knowing how to read a study and differentiate a high-quality study from one that isn't. Everyone should be taught in school about the history of medicine -- how common diseases were before we found out how to cure them, and how we managed to prove the germ theory of disease. (Even today there are people insisting it's "just a theory.")
And for me, I have learned to accept that my reaction of horror to a treatment tells me nothing about whether that treatment is any good for me. Luckily my kids don't seem to feel the same. They're scared of shots, but when the shot is over, they like to think of their cells making antibodies to fight germs. I'm glad they haven't got my hangups. For me, it's all I can do to drag myself to the doctor more often than never.
Thursday, June 30, 2016
In which I abandon the naturalistic fallacy
I've changed a lot in the past decade or so since I started blogging. That's obvious, I'm sure, to all of you. But a change I've not remarked much upon is that I've become a lot less crunchy.
Don't get me wrong. I still love whole foods, clover in my yard, and handspun socks. But I've gradually realized the errors in the prime directive of crunchydom -- a prime directive that I unconsciously was taking as a first principle: the way things happen in nature is always the best way.
It's not usually expressed in those exact words. Rather, we say, "Why would nature work things out that way if it weren't better?" Or, "If you have a health problem, it must be something unnatural in your environment." Or, "I keep noticing this health problem! It must be a modern epidemic because people surely didn't use to suffer from this."
It's pretty easy to believe. If humanity was designed, then obviously our designer would make sure that our bodies were generally functional. And if it was just evolution, one would expect evolution would have weeded out the problems by now.
But the evidence is against either theory, because human bodies are defective all the time. There are genetic mutations, of course, and there are always communicable diseases. Then there are just normal variations, like being a person who gets a lot of headaches or is vulnerable to mental illness or gets heartburn. I don't know how you explain this in a theist worldview, but from an evolutionary perspective, these don't matter because you can still live to adulthood and reproduce. Evolution doesn't care if you are happy, it cares if you have kids. And it doesn't mind occasional mistakes.
Evolution, after all, is a constant process. It's never perfected because it's always ongoing. The mechanism it needs is mutation, and the mutations happen regardless of whether or not they are harmful. Most of them are either neutral or harmful, because the odds are always against a beneficial mutation. And the way harmful mutations are weeded out is that you die.
Now, of course, is a good time to point out that evolution's goals aren't ours and that one of the great successes of humanity is our ability to kick evolution in the face: save frail babies, take care of our "useless" elders, and spend our time doing things like art and poetry that evolution would see as pointless. So we have found treatments for a lot of perfectly "natural" ailments; the natural solution is for people who get them to die, but we don't want that so we turn to the "artificial" art of curing people.
So when I have a minor health problem, I have begun to realize it could be more than one thing. Sure, it could be a toxin in my environment -- I don't at all deny that modern life is full of dangerous or untested things. But it could also be that I was infected with an all-natural virus, or just that my body has some nonfatal but annoying variation. And while I believe that, in theory, a headache is my body trying to tell me something, it's also possible that it's just a headache and I should take some (unnatural!) tylenol because there isn't going to be some easy explanation.
Another thing that bothers me about the naturalistic fallacy is that there are plenty of all-natural things that are deadly, so making a dichotomy between "natural plants" and "artificial chemicals" is often not so simple. For instance, peach pits and bitter almonds are often touted by alt-health gurus as a perfectly safe cancer treatment because, after all, they're plants. But they contain cyanide, which the plant produces to protect itself from predators like you. It's all-natural and it wants you to die. Meanwhile some pharmaceutical treatments -- aspirin, for instance, or digitalis -- are plant-derived. The sorts of things that are so medically useful as to become drugs are usually quite powerful, so having an expert carefully dose you with them is a good idea. The kinds of things that don't have a lot of healing power never get picked up by the medical community and thus remain "all-natural." So rather than the line actually being drawn between "things that are plants" and "things mixed up in a lab," the line is drawn between "things for which there's good scientific evidence of efficacy" and "things for which there really isn't." Believe me, if cyanide or frankincense is really that great and you can prove it, sooner or later a medical researcher is going to come test it and then market it as a pill. Maybe it just hasn't happened yet and you are very clever and ahead of the curve to have figured it out first. But maybe it just doesn't work.
You can see that just because something has never been picked up and marketed as a drug doesn't mean it's harmless. You know how I mentioned bitter almond and how toxic it is? Well, it's available as an essential oil! They recommend that, if you do decide to take it internally, you just take "a little bit." How little? Who knows? I know, I know, some essential oils have been shown to be effective for some things. But I also know that some people take them willy-nilly and, unlike homeopathics, they actually contain active substances and can therefore be toxic. And the sorts of people who so constantly assure you that they come from plants and therefore cannot ever be toxic are usually paid to say that so they're not really any more trustworthy than Big Pharm -- they have a profit motive to lie to you.
All that said, I admit the medical establishment is freaking frustrating. It's expensive, it's slow to change and adapt to new discoveries (see: childbirth), it's dedicated to breaking you into little bits and hyperfocusing on the bits to the exclusion of the rest of your body, and it's way too eager to prescribe stuff without paying a whole lot of attention to the side effects. I, too, wish there were another option. But often there is not. I can get a midwife, for instance, and that's great, but I can't get an all-natural Rhogam shot, which means I have to fight the medical establishment for nine months every dang time I have a baby so that someone will give it to me. I can see a naturopath or chiropractor and it is possible they will give me some new directions I can look in for healing. Or, you know, they'll try to sell me on some quack medicine. You can't really know when you go to these people -- yes, they are willing to look outside the system at evidence-based treatments your doctor didn't think of. But they are also willing to look so far outside the system that they want to put you on a permanent juice fast or feed you cyanide. You can get a recommendation from a friend, but it's possible you have a gullible friend.
Of course I still look for a home remedy for minor ailments before going to the doctor. I consider the possible side effects on the rest of my body before taking anything, because even though my body isn't perfect, it is in a delicate balance. I haven't taken an antibiotic since 2006, though I would if I had an infection that I felt merited it. I'm not saying nature is the enemy, or that it doesn't have to be respected, because it has its own way of doing things that we always have to work around. But it isn't exactly our friend. Sometimes it wants to kill you, and it's okay to fight back.
Don't get me wrong. I still love whole foods, clover in my yard, and handspun socks. But I've gradually realized the errors in the prime directive of crunchydom -- a prime directive that I unconsciously was taking as a first principle: the way things happen in nature is always the best way.
It's not usually expressed in those exact words. Rather, we say, "Why would nature work things out that way if it weren't better?" Or, "If you have a health problem, it must be something unnatural in your environment." Or, "I keep noticing this health problem! It must be a modern epidemic because people surely didn't use to suffer from this."
It's pretty easy to believe. If humanity was designed, then obviously our designer would make sure that our bodies were generally functional. And if it was just evolution, one would expect evolution would have weeded out the problems by now.
But the evidence is against either theory, because human bodies are defective all the time. There are genetic mutations, of course, and there are always communicable diseases. Then there are just normal variations, like being a person who gets a lot of headaches or is vulnerable to mental illness or gets heartburn. I don't know how you explain this in a theist worldview, but from an evolutionary perspective, these don't matter because you can still live to adulthood and reproduce. Evolution doesn't care if you are happy, it cares if you have kids. And it doesn't mind occasional mistakes.
Evolution, after all, is a constant process. It's never perfected because it's always ongoing. The mechanism it needs is mutation, and the mutations happen regardless of whether or not they are harmful. Most of them are either neutral or harmful, because the odds are always against a beneficial mutation. And the way harmful mutations are weeded out is that you die.
Now, of course, is a good time to point out that evolution's goals aren't ours and that one of the great successes of humanity is our ability to kick evolution in the face: save frail babies, take care of our "useless" elders, and spend our time doing things like art and poetry that evolution would see as pointless. So we have found treatments for a lot of perfectly "natural" ailments; the natural solution is for people who get them to die, but we don't want that so we turn to the "artificial" art of curing people.
So when I have a minor health problem, I have begun to realize it could be more than one thing. Sure, it could be a toxin in my environment -- I don't at all deny that modern life is full of dangerous or untested things. But it could also be that I was infected with an all-natural virus, or just that my body has some nonfatal but annoying variation. And while I believe that, in theory, a headache is my body trying to tell me something, it's also possible that it's just a headache and I should take some (unnatural!) tylenol because there isn't going to be some easy explanation.
Another thing that bothers me about the naturalistic fallacy is that there are plenty of all-natural things that are deadly, so making a dichotomy between "natural plants" and "artificial chemicals" is often not so simple. For instance, peach pits and bitter almonds are often touted by alt-health gurus as a perfectly safe cancer treatment because, after all, they're plants. But they contain cyanide, which the plant produces to protect itself from predators like you. It's all-natural and it wants you to die. Meanwhile some pharmaceutical treatments -- aspirin, for instance, or digitalis -- are plant-derived. The sorts of things that are so medically useful as to become drugs are usually quite powerful, so having an expert carefully dose you with them is a good idea. The kinds of things that don't have a lot of healing power never get picked up by the medical community and thus remain "all-natural." So rather than the line actually being drawn between "things that are plants" and "things mixed up in a lab," the line is drawn between "things for which there's good scientific evidence of efficacy" and "things for which there really isn't." Believe me, if cyanide or frankincense is really that great and you can prove it, sooner or later a medical researcher is going to come test it and then market it as a pill. Maybe it just hasn't happened yet and you are very clever and ahead of the curve to have figured it out first. But maybe it just doesn't work.
You can see that just because something has never been picked up and marketed as a drug doesn't mean it's harmless. You know how I mentioned bitter almond and how toxic it is? Well, it's available as an essential oil! They recommend that, if you do decide to take it internally, you just take "a little bit." How little? Who knows? I know, I know, some essential oils have been shown to be effective for some things. But I also know that some people take them willy-nilly and, unlike homeopathics, they actually contain active substances and can therefore be toxic. And the sorts of people who so constantly assure you that they come from plants and therefore cannot ever be toxic are usually paid to say that so they're not really any more trustworthy than Big Pharm -- they have a profit motive to lie to you.
All that said, I admit the medical establishment is freaking frustrating. It's expensive, it's slow to change and adapt to new discoveries (see: childbirth), it's dedicated to breaking you into little bits and hyperfocusing on the bits to the exclusion of the rest of your body, and it's way too eager to prescribe stuff without paying a whole lot of attention to the side effects. I, too, wish there were another option. But often there is not. I can get a midwife, for instance, and that's great, but I can't get an all-natural Rhogam shot, which means I have to fight the medical establishment for nine months every dang time I have a baby so that someone will give it to me. I can see a naturopath or chiropractor and it is possible they will give me some new directions I can look in for healing. Or, you know, they'll try to sell me on some quack medicine. You can't really know when you go to these people -- yes, they are willing to look outside the system at evidence-based treatments your doctor didn't think of. But they are also willing to look so far outside the system that they want to put you on a permanent juice fast or feed you cyanide. You can get a recommendation from a friend, but it's possible you have a gullible friend.
Of course I still look for a home remedy for minor ailments before going to the doctor. I consider the possible side effects on the rest of my body before taking anything, because even though my body isn't perfect, it is in a delicate balance. I haven't taken an antibiotic since 2006, though I would if I had an infection that I felt merited it. I'm not saying nature is the enemy, or that it doesn't have to be respected, because it has its own way of doing things that we always have to work around. But it isn't exactly our friend. Sometimes it wants to kill you, and it's okay to fight back.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Evidence of Harm
Today I finished Evidence of Harm. You know how sometimes you read a book or watch a documentary, and all you can say is, "Wow. Read/watch this, and then you'll definitely agree with me." It's hard to try to summarize, because it's so chock-full of facts. I mean, it's a 400-page book, and not at all a beach read.
For those who don't know, it's a book about thimerosal (mercury) in vaccines and its possible link to autism. I hadn't actually had an opinion on this subject before. People keep assuming this is the reason we don't vaccinate, and it actually isn't. I'm well aware that thimerosal has mostly been phased out of vaccines. I'm just not sure about all the other ingredients, such as squalene, aluminum, and formadehyde, and I am aware that side effects and reactions do happen. For me it's a matter of risk management: the shot has a risk, the disease has a risk, and I try to choose the smallest based on our unique circumstances. Also, John is adamantly anti-vaccine, and considering I make pretty much every other decision regarding the kids, it seemed fair to let his opinions have equal weight there.
Anyway, after reading this book I'm pretty much convinced that autism is triggered by mercury exposure. The theory supported by many of the studies discussed in the book is that autistic children have a genetic inability to eliminate mercury normally, and so exposure to mercury has much more serious effects on them than it has on other children. Mercury is known to cause brain damage, specifically in those areas of the brain that are damaged in autism. So it's pretty credible.
The book is a saga of the parents of autistic children, trying to find a cause and a cure for what has happened to their kids. Along the way, we find out not only their personal stories, but the story of the developing science of autism, and a lot of politics.
I'm not sure what was more shocking to me. First, I was astounded by how much evidence there is for a link between mercury and autism. I thought it was just an idea people had had, but in fact there is a TON of scientific evidence supporting this claim. It's been established that mercury is toxic to the brain, and there are lots and lots of studies to establish this. You can look at symptoms of other instances of mercury poisoning, from mad hatters' disease to pink disease, and see that the symptoms are similar to those of autism. It's been demonstrated that ethylmercury (the type in thimerosal) does cross into the brain and remain there. It's also commonly known that the amount of mercury a child might receive on one day from vaccines, following the recommended vaccine schedule during the 1990's, exceeded the official "safe limit" by orders of ten or even one hundred.
The parents in the book, when they test their children for mercury, discover lots of it. They try chelation (a treatment for heavy metals which binds to toxins and carries them out of the body) and are astounded by the quantities of mercury that pour out of their children. Even more astonishing is the improvement immediately seen in the kids. Some children even have their diagnosis of full-blown, severe autism reversed or replaced by a more minor diagnosis, like ADD.
Later in the book, we actually read of a researcher who managed to induce symptoms of autism in mice by injecting genetically sensitive mice with doses of thimerosal mimicking the amount in the vaccine schedule. Statistical studies, rather than lab results, have been more mixed because of the wide array of confounding factors. It really depends on which way you slice the data. Some studies have supported the link and others haven't. All studies are funded by someone, so as you might expect, the results here tended to be what the people funding them wanted them to be. Certainly what I had heard before -- that thimerosal's safety has been established by lots and lots of scientific studies, while any evidence for a link to autism is circumstantial and unscientific -- is not true. There are many published, peer-reviewed studies which do in fact suggest a link.
So that leads me to the second really shocking part of the book: the political part. Needless to say, this whole affair has been a political nightmare. No one wants to scare parents out of getting vaccines for their children. And apparently no one in any position of power in this country wants to remove the "profit motive" for drug companies to make vaccines. (Incidentally, vaccine manufacturers are doing very well. VERY well. Considering they have a monopoly and everyone is forced to buy their product, it's not surprising.) To preserve this "profit motive," vaccine manufacturers cannot be sued. The CDC, which is supposed to oversee all the vaccine companies, has the same problem I've noticed before in the FDA and USDA -- the same people switch back and forth from heading corporations to holding government positions. The deeper the parents dig, the more they get shut down. The main study used to "prove" that thimerosal isn't linked to vaccines ended up being redone five times. The first time, which was quickly hidden away, showed a strong link. So some individuals were thrown out of the study and the data re-analyzed some more, and the next versions showed a weak link. By the last version of the study, it appeared that thimerosal actually must be protecting kids from autism. Having written this study, the author left the CDC and was hired by GlaxoSmithKline.
This statistical study was based on information in a database called the Vaccine Safety Datalink (VSD). The information in this database was only available to CDC researchers, and not outside researches. Under pressure, the CDC supposedly allowed access -- but a scientist trying to obtain it would have to undergo years of waiting and so many restrictions as to make research virtually impossible. But any time a scientist would try to publish statistical surveys that suggested a link to autism, the CDC would say, "But you don't have the VSD data, so your study isn't as good as ours." Scientists working on thimerosal-autism studies often got quite promising results. When they tried to publish, initially the response from medical journals would be positive. Then suddenly the paper would be sent back with a brief note saying they'd reconsidered and after all they would not publish. Any "well-respected" journal refused to publish any studies that didn't echo what the CDC wanted. And any journal that did publish such things ... well, it couldn't possibly be well-respected, could it?
I felt like bashing my head against the wall, reading this stuff. But it isn't really surprising. We've seen similar tactics when anyone tries to prove anything suggesting that GMO's aren't safe. When political and financial interests are on one side of a scientific question, it is almost impossible to prove the other side. Studies that will hurt politicians and corporations don't get funded and don't get published. It's actually rather astounding to see the large number of published, peer-reviewed studies that actually did get done here.
If you have any interest in this topic at all, I challenge you to read this book. Like I said, thimerosal has mostly been removed from vaccines (as far as I know, it is still in the flu shot), so it shouldn't keep you from vaccinating your children if you feel this is the safest choice. However, it seems important that the connection between thimerosal and autism should be further studied and established scientifically. First off, this will enable parents of autistic children to receive compensation, either from the government or from vaccine manufacturers, which will help them pay for the many treatments their children need. Second, it will allow more research to be done on treatments for autism. If the theory is correct, autism can be ameliorated, in many cases, by removing mercury from the body with chelation. Some doctors have also had good results with giving children B-12 injections. I can only imagine how the parent of an autistic child might feel, hearing their child speak for the first time or finally meet their eyes. The parents also report that their children are finally appearing happy, for the first time since the onset of their illness.
But if we can't even find a cause, how can we look for a cure?
Anyway, read this book. I can't possibly summarize all the information in it, and it's all fascinating.
For those who don't know, it's a book about thimerosal (mercury) in vaccines and its possible link to autism. I hadn't actually had an opinion on this subject before. People keep assuming this is the reason we don't vaccinate, and it actually isn't. I'm well aware that thimerosal has mostly been phased out of vaccines. I'm just not sure about all the other ingredients, such as squalene, aluminum, and formadehyde, and I am aware that side effects and reactions do happen. For me it's a matter of risk management: the shot has a risk, the disease has a risk, and I try to choose the smallest based on our unique circumstances. Also, John is adamantly anti-vaccine, and considering I make pretty much every other decision regarding the kids, it seemed fair to let his opinions have equal weight there.
Anyway, after reading this book I'm pretty much convinced that autism is triggered by mercury exposure. The theory supported by many of the studies discussed in the book is that autistic children have a genetic inability to eliminate mercury normally, and so exposure to mercury has much more serious effects on them than it has on other children. Mercury is known to cause brain damage, specifically in those areas of the brain that are damaged in autism. So it's pretty credible.
The book is a saga of the parents of autistic children, trying to find a cause and a cure for what has happened to their kids. Along the way, we find out not only their personal stories, but the story of the developing science of autism, and a lot of politics.
I'm not sure what was more shocking to me. First, I was astounded by how much evidence there is for a link between mercury and autism. I thought it was just an idea people had had, but in fact there is a TON of scientific evidence supporting this claim. It's been established that mercury is toxic to the brain, and there are lots and lots of studies to establish this. You can look at symptoms of other instances of mercury poisoning, from mad hatters' disease to pink disease, and see that the symptoms are similar to those of autism. It's been demonstrated that ethylmercury (the type in thimerosal) does cross into the brain and remain there. It's also commonly known that the amount of mercury a child might receive on one day from vaccines, following the recommended vaccine schedule during the 1990's, exceeded the official "safe limit" by orders of ten or even one hundred.
The parents in the book, when they test their children for mercury, discover lots of it. They try chelation (a treatment for heavy metals which binds to toxins and carries them out of the body) and are astounded by the quantities of mercury that pour out of their children. Even more astonishing is the improvement immediately seen in the kids. Some children even have their diagnosis of full-blown, severe autism reversed or replaced by a more minor diagnosis, like ADD.
Later in the book, we actually read of a researcher who managed to induce symptoms of autism in mice by injecting genetically sensitive mice with doses of thimerosal mimicking the amount in the vaccine schedule. Statistical studies, rather than lab results, have been more mixed because of the wide array of confounding factors. It really depends on which way you slice the data. Some studies have supported the link and others haven't. All studies are funded by someone, so as you might expect, the results here tended to be what the people funding them wanted them to be. Certainly what I had heard before -- that thimerosal's safety has been established by lots and lots of scientific studies, while any evidence for a link to autism is circumstantial and unscientific -- is not true. There are many published, peer-reviewed studies which do in fact suggest a link.
So that leads me to the second really shocking part of the book: the political part. Needless to say, this whole affair has been a political nightmare. No one wants to scare parents out of getting vaccines for their children. And apparently no one in any position of power in this country wants to remove the "profit motive" for drug companies to make vaccines. (Incidentally, vaccine manufacturers are doing very well. VERY well. Considering they have a monopoly and everyone is forced to buy their product, it's not surprising.) To preserve this "profit motive," vaccine manufacturers cannot be sued. The CDC, which is supposed to oversee all the vaccine companies, has the same problem I've noticed before in the FDA and USDA -- the same people switch back and forth from heading corporations to holding government positions. The deeper the parents dig, the more they get shut down. The main study used to "prove" that thimerosal isn't linked to vaccines ended up being redone five times. The first time, which was quickly hidden away, showed a strong link. So some individuals were thrown out of the study and the data re-analyzed some more, and the next versions showed a weak link. By the last version of the study, it appeared that thimerosal actually must be protecting kids from autism. Having written this study, the author left the CDC and was hired by GlaxoSmithKline.
This statistical study was based on information in a database called the Vaccine Safety Datalink (VSD). The information in this database was only available to CDC researchers, and not outside researches. Under pressure, the CDC supposedly allowed access -- but a scientist trying to obtain it would have to undergo years of waiting and so many restrictions as to make research virtually impossible. But any time a scientist would try to publish statistical surveys that suggested a link to autism, the CDC would say, "But you don't have the VSD data, so your study isn't as good as ours." Scientists working on thimerosal-autism studies often got quite promising results. When they tried to publish, initially the response from medical journals would be positive. Then suddenly the paper would be sent back with a brief note saying they'd reconsidered and after all they would not publish. Any "well-respected" journal refused to publish any studies that didn't echo what the CDC wanted. And any journal that did publish such things ... well, it couldn't possibly be well-respected, could it?
I felt like bashing my head against the wall, reading this stuff. But it isn't really surprising. We've seen similar tactics when anyone tries to prove anything suggesting that GMO's aren't safe. When political and financial interests are on one side of a scientific question, it is almost impossible to prove the other side. Studies that will hurt politicians and corporations don't get funded and don't get published. It's actually rather astounding to see the large number of published, peer-reviewed studies that actually did get done here.
If you have any interest in this topic at all, I challenge you to read this book. Like I said, thimerosal has mostly been removed from vaccines (as far as I know, it is still in the flu shot), so it shouldn't keep you from vaccinating your children if you feel this is the safest choice. However, it seems important that the connection between thimerosal and autism should be further studied and established scientifically. First off, this will enable parents of autistic children to receive compensation, either from the government or from vaccine manufacturers, which will help them pay for the many treatments their children need. Second, it will allow more research to be done on treatments for autism. If the theory is correct, autism can be ameliorated, in many cases, by removing mercury from the body with chelation. Some doctors have also had good results with giving children B-12 injections. I can only imagine how the parent of an autistic child might feel, hearing their child speak for the first time or finally meet their eyes. The parents also report that their children are finally appearing happy, for the first time since the onset of their illness.
But if we can't even find a cause, how can we look for a cure?
Anyway, read this book. I can't possibly summarize all the information in it, and it's all fascinating.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
A bit about pelvic girdle pain
When I was about five months pregnant with Marko, my back started to hurt. Right at the very lowest joint of my lower back, hovering around my right hip. It hurt when I was on my feet a lot (which I always was), when I drove a lot (which I always did), and when I carried any heavy weights (which I didn't do). It hurt at work and during choir practice. It hurt when I tried to roll over in bed. It got so John had to help me get out of bed in the morning. I couldn't stand on one foot to put my socks on or lie on my back, at all, ever. And the further along I got, the worse it got.
I asked my Ob/Gyn about it. I asked each new doctor (there were eight) at each visit. One said to ask my mom. One said it was sciatica. The nicest one said that I might try wearing different shoes and that she could write me a referral to a physical therapist. The shoes helped a little. I couldn't afford the therapist.
I asked Facebook about it. My aunt gave me a few stretches, which helped a tiny bit. Some suggested belly support girdles, which I never did try. Some suggested hot pads and hot water bottles and hot baths, which were all heaven. And everyone else told me to try to stay off my feet, which I did as best as I could.
I asked the internet about it. It said, "It's not sciatica, that's a misnomer. It's something else. 20% of women suffer from it. Suck it up."
When I was in labor, the most excruciating pain was in my pelvis. It hurt worse than the contractions, and of course got worse with the contractions. Then I had a baby, and no pain! At least, none that I noticed while staying off my feet recovering.
But when I got up again and started doing things, it started hurting again. Not a lot. Just a little twinge here and there. I adjusted the way I was wearing my Moby wrap, and it mostly went away. But if I walked too long or carried the baby too much, there it was again. Just a twinge. Nothing to worry about or even restrict what I was doing. Just enough to notice.
So I went back to Google and found more things out. Google said I had SPD -- symphysis pubis dysfunction. All the symptoms sounded about right. The discouraging part was where it said, "DO NOT by any means give birth in stirrups! That could cause permanent damage!" Great. SO GLAD Dr. Pushy took the time to do a Google search, find out what I had, and take precautions. Not. It always makes me mad when I find out something from five minutes of Googling that the doctors don't know. But then again, it took me awhile to find it, too, so whatever.
So I went along my merry way until one day a few months ago when I was walking home from the park and my back started to hurt. It's only a two-block walk. I thought, "This shouldn't be hurting. I wonder if I'm pregnant?" And I was. Little sprout was two weeks old and I was already beginning to hurt.
I'm 15 weeks pregnant now and it hurts about as bad as it did at 30 weeks last time. This makes me really nervous, thinking about the possibility of it getting worse. Every time I rake the leaves, do more than a little housework at a time, or take a walk, I'm pretty much out of commission for the rest of the day. I yelp when I turn over in bed, and I spend my time trying to figure out ways to avoid picking Marko up. I can lift him into his high chair, or carry him to bed. But I can't really rock him standing up, or bring him places he doesn't want to go, or let him come "UP UP UP" every time he demands it, without hurting a lot afterward.
I asked one of the midwives about it, briefly, at our appointment, and she said, "Well, you're pregnant now. You can't expect to be able to cart around a 25-pound toddler everywhere you go anymore. It's time to practice letting him walk." Which was good advice. Sooner or later he's going to have to learn to hold my hand and not dart into the street. We may as well practice now. Then the midwife showed me a couple of stretches, suggested yoga, and told me that the patients she's had with back pain in the past all found chiropractic work helpful.
So there I am. I decided to do more research on SPD to see if there was anything I could do myself, or anything I could avoid doing, that would help. And there is a lot of advice out there. The only thing that isn't quite right is that SPD affects that symphysis pubis -- the joint at the front of the pelvis, where the pubic bone is. And that isn't where the pain is for me. My symphysis pubis has always felt fine. And as a result, the advice to keep my legs together all the time to avoid those twinges has never helped at all.
Finally I landed on a page about pelvic girdle pain, also known as pelvic girdle instability, which actually IS, I'm almost sure, what I have. See, the pelvis has three joints: the symphysis pubis in the front and the sacroiliac joints in the back, on either side of the spine. My sacroiliac joints are the ones that hurt. SPD is just one kind of pelvic girdle pain, and I have another.
PGP is caused loosening ligaments in the pelvis. Of course this is completely natural, because the pelvis needs to loosen up to let the baby out. But it gets too floppy and unstable, and so the muscles take over to keep it steady. Those muscles get really, really sore from doing the pelvis's job. That's why a muscle right over my sacroiliac joint, on one side or the other, is always hurting. Heat and massage help, like they would for any tight, sore muscle.
I found two support pages for women with PGP: the Pelvic Instability Network Support page, and Pelvic Partnership. They both had some good tips. And they both agreed on one thing: the main thing that will make me feel better is to go to a chiropractor or physical therapist and get an adjustment to restore the symmetry of my pelvis. If it's relaxing symmetrically, the muscles shouldn't be called upon to do too much of the work.
So, that's a goal for whenever we have the time and money to do it. Meanwhile, I skip my walks (hardly healthy of me), lead Marko by the hand, and demand a backrub every night.
Anyone else suffer from this? I really recommend following the links in this post; I learned a lot.
I asked my Ob/Gyn about it. I asked each new doctor (there were eight) at each visit. One said to ask my mom. One said it was sciatica. The nicest one said that I might try wearing different shoes and that she could write me a referral to a physical therapist. The shoes helped a little. I couldn't afford the therapist.
I asked Facebook about it. My aunt gave me a few stretches, which helped a tiny bit. Some suggested belly support girdles, which I never did try. Some suggested hot pads and hot water bottles and hot baths, which were all heaven. And everyone else told me to try to stay off my feet, which I did as best as I could.
I asked the internet about it. It said, "It's not sciatica, that's a misnomer. It's something else. 20% of women suffer from it. Suck it up."
When I was in labor, the most excruciating pain was in my pelvis. It hurt worse than the contractions, and of course got worse with the contractions. Then I had a baby, and no pain! At least, none that I noticed while staying off my feet recovering.
But when I got up again and started doing things, it started hurting again. Not a lot. Just a little twinge here and there. I adjusted the way I was wearing my Moby wrap, and it mostly went away. But if I walked too long or carried the baby too much, there it was again. Just a twinge. Nothing to worry about or even restrict what I was doing. Just enough to notice.
So I went back to Google and found more things out. Google said I had SPD -- symphysis pubis dysfunction. All the symptoms sounded about right. The discouraging part was where it said, "DO NOT by any means give birth in stirrups! That could cause permanent damage!" Great. SO GLAD Dr. Pushy took the time to do a Google search, find out what I had, and take precautions. Not. It always makes me mad when I find out something from five minutes of Googling that the doctors don't know. But then again, it took me awhile to find it, too, so whatever.
So I went along my merry way until one day a few months ago when I was walking home from the park and my back started to hurt. It's only a two-block walk. I thought, "This shouldn't be hurting. I wonder if I'm pregnant?" And I was. Little sprout was two weeks old and I was already beginning to hurt.
I'm 15 weeks pregnant now and it hurts about as bad as it did at 30 weeks last time. This makes me really nervous, thinking about the possibility of it getting worse. Every time I rake the leaves, do more than a little housework at a time, or take a walk, I'm pretty much out of commission for the rest of the day. I yelp when I turn over in bed, and I spend my time trying to figure out ways to avoid picking Marko up. I can lift him into his high chair, or carry him to bed. But I can't really rock him standing up, or bring him places he doesn't want to go, or let him come "UP UP UP" every time he demands it, without hurting a lot afterward.
I asked one of the midwives about it, briefly, at our appointment, and she said, "Well, you're pregnant now. You can't expect to be able to cart around a 25-pound toddler everywhere you go anymore. It's time to practice letting him walk." Which was good advice. Sooner or later he's going to have to learn to hold my hand and not dart into the street. We may as well practice now. Then the midwife showed me a couple of stretches, suggested yoga, and told me that the patients she's had with back pain in the past all found chiropractic work helpful.
So there I am. I decided to do more research on SPD to see if there was anything I could do myself, or anything I could avoid doing, that would help. And there is a lot of advice out there. The only thing that isn't quite right is that SPD affects that symphysis pubis -- the joint at the front of the pelvis, where the pubic bone is. And that isn't where the pain is for me. My symphysis pubis has always felt fine. And as a result, the advice to keep my legs together all the time to avoid those twinges has never helped at all.
Finally I landed on a page about pelvic girdle pain, also known as pelvic girdle instability, which actually IS, I'm almost sure, what I have. See, the pelvis has three joints: the symphysis pubis in the front and the sacroiliac joints in the back, on either side of the spine. My sacroiliac joints are the ones that hurt. SPD is just one kind of pelvic girdle pain, and I have another.
PGP is caused loosening ligaments in the pelvis. Of course this is completely natural, because the pelvis needs to loosen up to let the baby out. But it gets too floppy and unstable, and so the muscles take over to keep it steady. Those muscles get really, really sore from doing the pelvis's job. That's why a muscle right over my sacroiliac joint, on one side or the other, is always hurting. Heat and massage help, like they would for any tight, sore muscle.
I found two support pages for women with PGP: the Pelvic Instability Network Support page, and Pelvic Partnership. They both had some good tips. And they both agreed on one thing: the main thing that will make me feel better is to go to a chiropractor or physical therapist and get an adjustment to restore the symmetry of my pelvis. If it's relaxing symmetrically, the muscles shouldn't be called upon to do too much of the work.
So, that's a goal for whenever we have the time and money to do it. Meanwhile, I skip my walks (hardly healthy of me), lead Marko by the hand, and demand a backrub every night.
Anyone else suffer from this? I really recommend following the links in this post; I learned a lot.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Oh no, it worked
About two months ago, Marko started having ... issues. The main one was diarrhea. I figured it was all the grapes he was eating, but when we finished the box of grapes and didn't buy more, the diarrhea stuck around.
Then the diarrhea caused a horrible bleeding diaper rash -- despite the fact that Marko wears a diaper less than half the time. Then the rash caused night waking, as he would wake up screaming for his diaper to be changed because it was hurting him. Then I also noticed a few odd welts on him, kind of like blisters -- one on his shoulder, one on his finger, one on his tummy. It was puzzling, and, to me, worrisome. I am not the type to shake off unexplained symptoms... I always want to be sure it's not a sign of anything horrible.
I thought, "Perhaps it's just because he's weaning." But at the time the problems started, his nursing had steadied out into twice per day. When he was down to once per day, he didn't have this problem.
Then I thought, "Perhaps it's all the cow's milk he's drinking. Maybe he's not really ready for it yet." So we switched to coconut milk (which he didn't like) and then almond milk. It didn't make a difference.
But I thought, "Maybe it's an actual food sensitivity." You might remember that we had that issue while he was still exclusively nursing. At least, I think we did. I went on a strict elimination diet, and every time I cheated, he had issues (screaming, diaper rash, refusing to eat). And while I was still on that diet -- down to just eliminating chicken and tomatoes -- we also went grain-free... more or less. Family meals were grain-free, but since it was for John's benefit and not mine, I did eat bread at lunchtime and the occasional cookie. Eventually I reintroduced chicken and tomatoes, and had no problem. Once he was eating solid food, I carefully tested him on those foods -- no reaction. I figured his gut had just matured and he no longer had any food sensitivities. I kept him grain-free till a year, though I've heard two years is better. I just couldn't think of what to feed him and caved to giving him crackers all the time.
But, of course, I hadn't introduced any new foods lately. He was eating what he always eats. So it wasn't a case of simply going back and cutting out things I'd lately introduced. Our diet has little variation, and there was definitely nothing new. My only recourse was to guess and check different sensitivities ... which would take awhile. Since it's him and not me, I can't cut him back to nothing but rice for a couple of days like I did with me. He demands variety, and it's hard enough to deny him even one thing he likes (which lately means a second or third banana). I had to cut out one thing a week.
First I tried to eliminate all dairy, not just his bedtime milk. But in our house, this is very hard to accomplish. I kept accidentally giving him things with butter in them, or sprinkling cheese on his noodles. I probably eat dairy 3-4 times a day -- it was hard to catch it all. But finally I did get a solid week of pretty nearly no dairy. It didn't make the slightest difference. (I did heal the diaper rash, mostly, by going almost entirely diaper-free [NOT recommended for a kid with diarrhea, but what can you do?] and slathering him with Desitin every night. But it would reappear at the slightest provocation.)
So I thought, maybe it's gluten. And then I accidentally gave him a ton of biscuits. I am so unaware of what we eat these days! And that's after all those months of elimination diets for the whole family, too. After several falls from the wagon, I finally managed to get 24 hours of giving him absolutely no gluten. (Since I am not into buying a ton of alternative flours or breads, the only grains he had were rice and a little corn.)
To my mixed relief and disappointment, the diarrhea instantly resolved. Relief, because I'm glad to know what the problem is and have fixed it. Disappointment, because I was really hoping it wouldn't be gluten. Gluten is really hard to eliminate. Couldn't it have been, I don't know, squash? I would like to believe that it just coincidentally resolved on its own, but it's been going on for more than a month. I don't think that would happen -- though I may do a gluten challenge down the road to be sure.
It's been four days, and the problems haven't returned. His diaper rash is just a pink scarified area (poor kid!) and the welts seem to be healing up, too.
He's still not sleeping worth a darn. A month and a half of trouble sleeping doesn't resolve overnight, and he has a cold, too. But his cold is getting better, and last night he only woke up twice, and for short times (though I was so exhausted I fell asleep on his bedroom floor before I found out they were going to be short times). And we have been getting him to bed before eight every night. So I guess we're making progress. I'm going to just assume his sleep problems are not gluten-related.
I've been eating less gluten, too, though still a little. Yesterday I had a PBJ ... and very quickly got a stomachache and headache. Huh. Today I had no gluten at all, and my usual gassy belly (which I thought was unavoidable in pregnancy) hasn't appeared ... despite eating plenty of chili for dinner. I do NOT want to go gluten-free. I love bread and pasta way too much. But perhaps it's just what we all need right now.
Maybe Marko will grow out of this. Many kids do grow out of their sensitivities. I sure hope so, because I hear gluten-free baking is no picnic, and I know gluten-free products are expensive. I don't want to have to plan around this forever!
And a part of me is tempted to cheat. Hey, so gluten gives him diarrhea. A little gluten should be fine, though, right? Because a little diarrhea never hurt anyone. But I'm trying to take the diarrhea (and other issues) as a sign that something is wrong. It's cluing me into something going on in his digestive system, something not good. If gluten causes a negative reaction that I can see, there may be more things I can't see, and the safe course is just not to give him any.
But so far, it's been okay. It's been pulling me out of my meal-planning rut and helping me try new things. This week we had minestrone (with rice instead of macaroni, sigh) and white bean chili. Tomorrow I'm going to make lasagna, with regular noodles for us and mushrooms for Marko. (I don't think he'll notice the difference -- he loves mushrooms.) I'm going to have to keep thinking, though, because I'm already tired of chicken-and-rice and fish-and-rice combos. I think I'd better break out the potatoes on Friday, for the sake of a change. Perhaps some oven fries?
Anyone else go gluten-free with their families? Did the kids ever grow out of it?
Then the diarrhea caused a horrible bleeding diaper rash -- despite the fact that Marko wears a diaper less than half the time. Then the rash caused night waking, as he would wake up screaming for his diaper to be changed because it was hurting him. Then I also noticed a few odd welts on him, kind of like blisters -- one on his shoulder, one on his finger, one on his tummy. It was puzzling, and, to me, worrisome. I am not the type to shake off unexplained symptoms... I always want to be sure it's not a sign of anything horrible.
I thought, "Perhaps it's just because he's weaning." But at the time the problems started, his nursing had steadied out into twice per day. When he was down to once per day, he didn't have this problem.
Then I thought, "Perhaps it's all the cow's milk he's drinking. Maybe he's not really ready for it yet." So we switched to coconut milk (which he didn't like) and then almond milk. It didn't make a difference.
But I thought, "Maybe it's an actual food sensitivity." You might remember that we had that issue while he was still exclusively nursing. At least, I think we did. I went on a strict elimination diet, and every time I cheated, he had issues (screaming, diaper rash, refusing to eat). And while I was still on that diet -- down to just eliminating chicken and tomatoes -- we also went grain-free... more or less. Family meals were grain-free, but since it was for John's benefit and not mine, I did eat bread at lunchtime and the occasional cookie. Eventually I reintroduced chicken and tomatoes, and had no problem. Once he was eating solid food, I carefully tested him on those foods -- no reaction. I figured his gut had just matured and he no longer had any food sensitivities. I kept him grain-free till a year, though I've heard two years is better. I just couldn't think of what to feed him and caved to giving him crackers all the time.
But, of course, I hadn't introduced any new foods lately. He was eating what he always eats. So it wasn't a case of simply going back and cutting out things I'd lately introduced. Our diet has little variation, and there was definitely nothing new. My only recourse was to guess and check different sensitivities ... which would take awhile. Since it's him and not me, I can't cut him back to nothing but rice for a couple of days like I did with me. He demands variety, and it's hard enough to deny him even one thing he likes (which lately means a second or third banana). I had to cut out one thing a week.
First I tried to eliminate all dairy, not just his bedtime milk. But in our house, this is very hard to accomplish. I kept accidentally giving him things with butter in them, or sprinkling cheese on his noodles. I probably eat dairy 3-4 times a day -- it was hard to catch it all. But finally I did get a solid week of pretty nearly no dairy. It didn't make the slightest difference. (I did heal the diaper rash, mostly, by going almost entirely diaper-free [NOT recommended for a kid with diarrhea, but what can you do?] and slathering him with Desitin every night. But it would reappear at the slightest provocation.)
So I thought, maybe it's gluten. And then I accidentally gave him a ton of biscuits. I am so unaware of what we eat these days! And that's after all those months of elimination diets for the whole family, too. After several falls from the wagon, I finally managed to get 24 hours of giving him absolutely no gluten. (Since I am not into buying a ton of alternative flours or breads, the only grains he had were rice and a little corn.)
To my mixed relief and disappointment, the diarrhea instantly resolved. Relief, because I'm glad to know what the problem is and have fixed it. Disappointment, because I was really hoping it wouldn't be gluten. Gluten is really hard to eliminate. Couldn't it have been, I don't know, squash? I would like to believe that it just coincidentally resolved on its own, but it's been going on for more than a month. I don't think that would happen -- though I may do a gluten challenge down the road to be sure.
It's been four days, and the problems haven't returned. His diaper rash is just a pink scarified area (poor kid!) and the welts seem to be healing up, too.
He's still not sleeping worth a darn. A month and a half of trouble sleeping doesn't resolve overnight, and he has a cold, too. But his cold is getting better, and last night he only woke up twice, and for short times (though I was so exhausted I fell asleep on his bedroom floor before I found out they were going to be short times). And we have been getting him to bed before eight every night. So I guess we're making progress. I'm going to just assume his sleep problems are not gluten-related.
I've been eating less gluten, too, though still a little. Yesterday I had a PBJ ... and very quickly got a stomachache and headache. Huh. Today I had no gluten at all, and my usual gassy belly (which I thought was unavoidable in pregnancy) hasn't appeared ... despite eating plenty of chili for dinner. I do NOT want to go gluten-free. I love bread and pasta way too much. But perhaps it's just what we all need right now.
Maybe Marko will grow out of this. Many kids do grow out of their sensitivities. I sure hope so, because I hear gluten-free baking is no picnic, and I know gluten-free products are expensive. I don't want to have to plan around this forever!
And a part of me is tempted to cheat. Hey, so gluten gives him diarrhea. A little gluten should be fine, though, right? Because a little diarrhea never hurt anyone. But I'm trying to take the diarrhea (and other issues) as a sign that something is wrong. It's cluing me into something going on in his digestive system, something not good. If gluten causes a negative reaction that I can see, there may be more things I can't see, and the safe course is just not to give him any.
But so far, it's been okay. It's been pulling me out of my meal-planning rut and helping me try new things. This week we had minestrone (with rice instead of macaroni, sigh) and white bean chili. Tomorrow I'm going to make lasagna, with regular noodles for us and mushrooms for Marko. (I don't think he'll notice the difference -- he loves mushrooms.) I'm going to have to keep thinking, though, because I'm already tired of chicken-and-rice and fish-and-rice combos. I think I'd better break out the potatoes on Friday, for the sake of a change. Perhaps some oven fries?
Anyone else go gluten-free with their families? Did the kids ever grow out of it?
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Why I don't want another hospital birth
I've told you all about Marko's hospital birth. And I've mentioned that I didn't much like it. So I bet no one will be too surprised when I tell you I don't want to do it like that again. Luckily, there's another option: home birth.
What a lot of people will tell you about home birth goes like this: "The hospital is the safe place, so if you don't care about your health and the health of your baby, go ahead and stay home just so you can get some 'positive vibes.' While you're at it, why don't you have a shaman catch your baby in a mud hut?"
The fact is that in many cases, home can be safer than the hospital.
Think about it this way: our bodies were designed/evolved to give birth. You are descended from a long line of women who were capable of giving birth. Every one of your ancestors, up to the past hundred years or so, survived birth without medical intervention.
Of course some mothers and babies did die before modern medicine. So why not use modern medicine to improve the situation so not only most, but all mothers and babies survive?
Because our bodies have not had time to catch up to all these changes, that's why. Birth is a very delicate physiological process which, under normal circumstances, unfolds perfectly with no interference. Routinely interfering in birth might cause more problems than it solves.
In fact, this seems to be the case. Fifty years ago, it was pretty standard to knock out all the mothers with chloroform and pull their babies out with forceps. Most survived. But some children had broken skulls, some had mental disabilities from being born blue (from the chloroform), and nearly all the mothers had some injury or other from those forceps. We know more now, so things are better. But even so, the perinatal mortality rate (death of babies shortly before, during, and after birth) in the US is fairly poor, and it has shown no improvement in the past 25 years. There are still many things hospitals do that are not backed by any evidence and which are actually harmful!
For instance:
*Episiotomy. Some doctors routinely cut the perineum of every laboring woman. Others do it for various indications, such as "the baby isn't coming out fast enough" or "you'll surely tear otherwise." But there are few or no real reasons to give one, and the side effects are pretty severe -- such as pain and sexual problems for a year or longer! Why make women suffer something like this if it's not necessary?
*The lithotomy position -- delivering the baby while lying flat on one's back, with feet in stirrups. This is pretty much the worst position you could give birth in (except maybe hanging by your ankles from the ceiling -- and I hear that's been tried). There is only one person it benefits -- the doctor. It's much more convenient for the birth attendant. It can cause a lot of problems for the actual labor, though -- such as restricted blood flow to the baby and stuck shoulders. But at least the doctor got to sit on his swiveling stool, right?
*Immediate clamping of the umbilical cord. There's no particular reason why doctors do this, except force of habit. Throughout history, doctors have decried "premature cutting of the navel-string" as "very injurious," but somehow it became a fad. This way you can easily zip the baby off to the nursery in a hurry. However, that leaves almost a third of the baby's blood still sitting in the placenta! Study after study has showed delayed clamping to be better, but hospitals are slow to catch on. Instead, we are told that anemia in babies is a result of breastfeeding.
*And, of course, a c-section rate at 32% and still rising. It's not just because women prefer them (for the most part, they don't). But doctors prefer them. They get a good deal more money, and none of this pesky waiting around! Not to mention, since it's the "most cautious" choice, you're unlikely to get sued for doing one. They happen all the time for all kinds of silly reasons, but it's telling that the rate surges at about five o'clock when the doctors like to go home.
I could go on and on: continuous fetal monitoring, routine use of pitocin, artificial rupture of membranes, and many, many more. The standard policies in hospitals are based mainly on convenience, avoiding lawsuits, and what was considered safe twenty years ago. Doctors don't have much time to read all the latest studies, and why should they? Their patients are all healthy, so even if you mess up quite a bit, things are still likely to be more or less okay. And if they're not, just tell the mom that she and her baby would have both died without your help!
Okay, so not all doctors are like that. Imagine your ideal doctor. He (or, better yet, she) is up-to-date on the newest studies. She carefully reads your ten-page birth plan and agrees with every point. She won't interfere with the natural process unless there's a need. Great!
But even then, there is a slight problem. Birth is hormonally driven and responds to psychological triggers. If the mother is afraid, it will halt or even reverse. Why? Well, think about it -- if there's a danger around, it's a bad idea to have a baby right now. Even when it's too late to give up on labor and come back tomorrow, it can stall, leaving the baby stuck.
Imagine this scenario. You're at a party. You suddenly realize you have to go to the bathroom. So you unobtrusively make your way over to the hostess and quietly ask where the bathroom is. She directs you to a table in the middle of the room. After stripping off your clothes and putting you in a skimpy hospital gown, she has you lie down on the table and gets two of the guests to hold your legs in the air. All the guests, who are strangers to you, gather around. All of them are yelling "PUSH! PUSH!"
Could you go to the bathroom under these circumstances? I couldn't! And people who tell you, "Just suck it up, it's no fun, but you have to deal with it because it's what's best for your baby," don't really understand. There may be a psychological basis, but you can't make yourself relax, stop releasing adrenaline, and believe that you are in your own home surrounded only by those you trust. There are many methods of meditation and hypnosis that are supposed to help you do that, but it's hit or miss when you're already in an unsupportive environment.
It seems much safer to me to give birth at home, where the natural birth process will be interfered with as little as possible. Rather than being told "relax, relax, it won't work unless you relax!" I will actually be able to relax easily, in my own environment. And I will have the freedom to do things my way -- move around, choose comfortable and safe positions, and avoid interference. As an added bonus, most midwives are experts in normal birth and do study up on the latest scientific knowledge. They know what normal birth looks like -- and what a problem looks like. And since they stay with you throughout the birth (unlike doctors, who might check on you every couple of hours), they will recognize a problem immediately and can take appropriate action.
All I have to do now is figure out how to pay the midwife!
What a lot of people will tell you about home birth goes like this: "The hospital is the safe place, so if you don't care about your health and the health of your baby, go ahead and stay home just so you can get some 'positive vibes.' While you're at it, why don't you have a shaman catch your baby in a mud hut?"
The fact is that in many cases, home can be safer than the hospital.
Think about it this way: our bodies were designed/evolved to give birth. You are descended from a long line of women who were capable of giving birth. Every one of your ancestors, up to the past hundred years or so, survived birth without medical intervention.
Of course some mothers and babies did die before modern medicine. So why not use modern medicine to improve the situation so not only most, but all mothers and babies survive?
Because our bodies have not had time to catch up to all these changes, that's why. Birth is a very delicate physiological process which, under normal circumstances, unfolds perfectly with no interference. Routinely interfering in birth might cause more problems than it solves.
In fact, this seems to be the case. Fifty years ago, it was pretty standard to knock out all the mothers with chloroform and pull their babies out with forceps. Most survived. But some children had broken skulls, some had mental disabilities from being born blue (from the chloroform), and nearly all the mothers had some injury or other from those forceps. We know more now, so things are better. But even so, the perinatal mortality rate (death of babies shortly before, during, and after birth) in the US is fairly poor, and it has shown no improvement in the past 25 years. There are still many things hospitals do that are not backed by any evidence and which are actually harmful!
For instance:
*Episiotomy. Some doctors routinely cut the perineum of every laboring woman. Others do it for various indications, such as "the baby isn't coming out fast enough" or "you'll surely tear otherwise." But there are few or no real reasons to give one, and the side effects are pretty severe -- such as pain and sexual problems for a year or longer! Why make women suffer something like this if it's not necessary?
*The lithotomy position -- delivering the baby while lying flat on one's back, with feet in stirrups. This is pretty much the worst position you could give birth in (except maybe hanging by your ankles from the ceiling -- and I hear that's been tried). There is only one person it benefits -- the doctor. It's much more convenient for the birth attendant. It can cause a lot of problems for the actual labor, though -- such as restricted blood flow to the baby and stuck shoulders. But at least the doctor got to sit on his swiveling stool, right?
*Immediate clamping of the umbilical cord. There's no particular reason why doctors do this, except force of habit. Throughout history, doctors have decried "premature cutting of the navel-string" as "very injurious," but somehow it became a fad. This way you can easily zip the baby off to the nursery in a hurry. However, that leaves almost a third of the baby's blood still sitting in the placenta! Study after study has showed delayed clamping to be better, but hospitals are slow to catch on. Instead, we are told that anemia in babies is a result of breastfeeding.
*And, of course, a c-section rate at 32% and still rising. It's not just because women prefer them (for the most part, they don't). But doctors prefer them. They get a good deal more money, and none of this pesky waiting around! Not to mention, since it's the "most cautious" choice, you're unlikely to get sued for doing one. They happen all the time for all kinds of silly reasons, but it's telling that the rate surges at about five o'clock when the doctors like to go home.
I could go on and on: continuous fetal monitoring, routine use of pitocin, artificial rupture of membranes, and many, many more. The standard policies in hospitals are based mainly on convenience, avoiding lawsuits, and what was considered safe twenty years ago. Doctors don't have much time to read all the latest studies, and why should they? Their patients are all healthy, so even if you mess up quite a bit, things are still likely to be more or less okay. And if they're not, just tell the mom that she and her baby would have both died without your help!
Okay, so not all doctors are like that. Imagine your ideal doctor. He (or, better yet, she) is up-to-date on the newest studies. She carefully reads your ten-page birth plan and agrees with every point. She won't interfere with the natural process unless there's a need. Great!
But even then, there is a slight problem. Birth is hormonally driven and responds to psychological triggers. If the mother is afraid, it will halt or even reverse. Why? Well, think about it -- if there's a danger around, it's a bad idea to have a baby right now. Even when it's too late to give up on labor and come back tomorrow, it can stall, leaving the baby stuck.
Imagine this scenario. You're at a party. You suddenly realize you have to go to the bathroom. So you unobtrusively make your way over to the hostess and quietly ask where the bathroom is. She directs you to a table in the middle of the room. After stripping off your clothes and putting you in a skimpy hospital gown, she has you lie down on the table and gets two of the guests to hold your legs in the air. All the guests, who are strangers to you, gather around. All of them are yelling "PUSH! PUSH!"
Could you go to the bathroom under these circumstances? I couldn't! And people who tell you, "Just suck it up, it's no fun, but you have to deal with it because it's what's best for your baby," don't really understand. There may be a psychological basis, but you can't make yourself relax, stop releasing adrenaline, and believe that you are in your own home surrounded only by those you trust. There are many methods of meditation and hypnosis that are supposed to help you do that, but it's hit or miss when you're already in an unsupportive environment.
It seems much safer to me to give birth at home, where the natural birth process will be interfered with as little as possible. Rather than being told "relax, relax, it won't work unless you relax!" I will actually be able to relax easily, in my own environment. And I will have the freedom to do things my way -- move around, choose comfortable and safe positions, and avoid interference. As an added bonus, most midwives are experts in normal birth and do study up on the latest scientific knowledge. They know what normal birth looks like -- and what a problem looks like. And since they stay with you throughout the birth (unlike doctors, who might check on you every couple of hours), they will recognize a problem immediately and can take appropriate action.
All I have to do now is figure out how to pay the midwife!
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
What is nutrient-dense food?
So I was talking in my last food post about nutrient-dense foods. These are foods, usually animal foods, that are very high in nutrients (vitamins and minerals) for the amount of calories they have. I decided to illustrate what I mean by calculating the nutrient content for each of the parts of a sample dinner.
The dinner is beef liver, salad with dressing, and brown rice. I actually made and ate the salad ... not the liver though. I don't like it, but it's a common example of THE most nutrient-dense food there is. Other organ meats and shellfish are up there too.
First, let's look at the salad, where many people expect the nutrient powerhouse to be. It's a pretty good salad, containing lettuce, tomato, green pepper, carrot, and a bit of lacto-fermented kimchi, with an apple cider vinegar and olive oil dressing. Here's how CRON-O-Meter analyzes that salad, according to my benchmark of 2122 calories per day:
Most of the calories come from the olive oil in the dressing. I put down two tablespoons of oil because I like oil a lot and it was a HUGE salad. I made it in a mixing bowl for lunch. So, picture a great big first-course salad, not a tiny side salad.
Here are the specific vitamins present in the salad. The vitamin A is mostly from carrots and is in the form of beta carotene, which, as I've mentioned before, some people are not able to convert to vitamin A. But let's assume I am ... so I'm set for vitamin A from this salad! The rest of the vitamins are not as impressive. There's plenty of K from the green vegetables, and some C from the tomatoes, cabbage, and peppers. The level of E is good too (remember I was deficient in that lately?), because olive oil is a great source of vitamin E.
What about the liver? How is it doing for nutrients? This serving is one slice of liver, about four ounces.
It contains most of the protein from the meal. Liver isn't very fatty and has few carbohydrates. But it contains 42% of your daily vitamins from only 129 calories! That's very efficient, compared to the salad which had 19% of your vitamins in almost 300 calories. Of course calories are important too, but to get enough of your vitamins from salad, you would have to eat way more calories than you should.
All right, here are the vitamins in liver:
Almost five times the A you need! Seventeen times the B12! B12 is water-soluble, so it's virtually impossible to overdose on. A is oil-soluble and you can, theoretically, get too much. It's probably not a danger when obtained from natural foods, but liver should be more of a once-a-week thing than a daily dinner. Our B vitamins are plentiful. (Biotin shows as 0 because there is no RDA for it -- it's manufactured by intestinal bacteria.) It really pulls its weight as far as nutrients per calorie. Although it would be quite unnecessary to eat a lot of liver, having a little here and there is as good as a vitamin pill. Regular beef is not such a powerhouse, but it also contains large amounts of B12 and other important nutrients, so it's another good option for a nutrient-dense food at dinnertime. You can see, though, that to get enough K, C, and E, for instance, we have to turn to vegetables, like those in our salad.
Last of all, let's turn to the rice. I picked brown rice because it's supposed to be much healthier, though there's debate over whether we can actually absorb all the vitamins it contains. They are bound up with something called phytic acid which can block their absorption, and there are a lot of different theories as to how you'd get rid of these. For the sake of this experiment, I'm going with CRON-o-Meter and assuming we're absorbing all the nutrients available.
Rice of any kind is mostly carbohydrate. Brown rice, though, has a small amount of protein and fat -- 4 grams of protein and one of fat. In that whole cup of rice, there are only 4% of the vitamins you need. Minerals do a little better, though I didn't analyze those specifically. The main ones in brown rice are manganese, magnesium, and phosphorus. Here are the vitamins in the rice:
It's a good source of B vitamins, making up for the relative lack of thiamine in the liver, but it has very little else.
Here's our whole meal together. It comes in about right for calories -- just shy of 1/3 of my daily requirement. It's rather high in carbs and fat compared to protein. I still don't know what the ideal ratio of these three "macronutrients" is, but I could probably use a higher proportion of protein here -- perhaps by having less salad and more meat, or else throwing some chickpeas or sunflower seeds in my salad.
A fruit could make a nice dessert to this meal, but a sugary dessert or drink would pretty much ruin what we're trying to do here. Our calories would be increased with no nutrients gained at all -- and sugar spikes the blood sugar, too.
So here are a few questions to consider: What parts of this meal are most nutritionally valuable, and which are merely seasoning? If you were going to have seconds, what would you have seconds of? If you were trying to cut calories, what would you skip?
Conventional wisdom would tell us to leave the dressing off the salad. But that olive oil provides almost all of the vitamin E for the whole meal! Though it does add a lot of calories, we can't afford to cut it altogether. Instead, I'd skip or reduce the rice --it's mostly a cheap filler, making sure we don't go to bed hungry, while being a complex carbohydrate that doesn't upset the metabolism like sugar would.
And the most valuable, nutrient-dense food? Of course, the liver. No wonder it's so highly prized by traditional cultures!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Vitamins
After that post yesterday about meal planning, I thought it would be a fun experiment to track what I ate in a day and see if I got the daily required amount of each vitamin and mineral. This would be a mammoth task, but luckily I have a computer program (CRON-o-Meter; you can download it for free) which does the actual calculations for me. I just put in what I ate and it counted up the amounts of everything, comparing them with the USDA recommended amounts.
Now, this isn't a perfect method. I've heard a lot of people say that we should be eating more of many vitamins, such as D and B12, than the RDA's suggest. Also, the amount eaten is not necessarily the amount absorbed -- I hear we can only get about 3% of the beta carotene in a raw carrot, for instance. But it was a good place to start.
Without taking any particular care -- I ate the food throughout the day and recorded in the evening so I didn't know how much I was getting -- I met almost all of the goals. In fact, I'm extra super good because I exceeded the calorie recommendation by quite a lot! Oops. But they do say nursing mothers need 600 extra calories. I also was particularly hungry that day. Ideally, though, you should get all your nutrients in before maxing out your calories. I had bacon and eggs for breakfast; an orange, a banana, some cheese, and a PBJ for snacks; and three homemade tacos with all the fixings (lettuce, tomato, green pepper, sour cream, salsa, cheese) for dinner. I also drank two glasses of milk.
I was way over the DRE's for almost every vitamin, often doubling or even tripling the amount needed! (None of these were anywhere near toxic levels.) I was a little lacking in three nutrients, though: vitamin K, vitamin E, and potassium. I could have met the DRE for K and E together with a dark green leafy vegetable ... perhaps a bit of spinach or kale for a snack would have been a good idea. I was at 75% of the total potassium, which isn't bad, but I could have improved that by having a bit more tomato with my tacos or maybe a second banana. Normally I get a lot of potassium, because I eat so many potatoes.
The big relief to me is knowing that it isn't too hard to meet the requirements of each vitamin, and you don't have to obsess over it. Having some animal foods each day helps, because they are high sources of many vitamins and minerals. I myself could probably use to eat more vegetables, though. Then again, I often do -- this was a rather meat, egg, and cheese-heavy day. I think today I'll have a salad for lunch!
What's your take on vitamins? Carefully calculate, eat a relatively balanced diet and assume it works out, or take a multivitamin to make sure?
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Real food menu planning
Okay, this post is sort of misleading, because I don't menu plan like most people do. The way we eat is too simple for that. I just walk into Aldi and think, "Shall I buy beef, pork, or chicken?" And then I buy all the things I usually buy, making sure I've got all the ingredients that go well with the meat I've picked. If I get beef, I get tomato sauce, beans, and tortillas. Otherwise I don't need anything extra, except perhaps celery for chicken soup. The rest is all vegetables, potatoes, a little bread and pasta, and my favorite section ... DAIRY.
What I mean, though, is how I plan to make sure we get all the nutrients we need. I'm not an expert at this by any means. A couple of weeks ago I bought so little at the store that I was starving all week ... oops. John and I both have very fast metabolisms, and the baby eats more every day, so we really do need to make sure we buy a lot. And I try to make sure it's healthy stuff, and enough variety to get us all the nutrition we need.
My meal planning takes place at the store. I don't plan snacks or any meals at home besides dinner, but I decide what to buy that will work for snacks and lunches. I do have a rough idea in my mind of what dinners I'll make every day.
But when someone asked on Facebook recently how to balance her family's diet and food budget when eating real food, I have to admit I drew something of a blank. She was asking if we should use the USDA's food pyramid, to which I had to give an emphatic NO. 6-11 servings of grains? That's a LOT -- especially for something that isn't very nutritious. White grains in particular are pretty much just straight carbohydrates, with few vitamins. And you know I don't agree with what it says about fat.
This one would be a bit better. But I don't actually feel the need for a complicated pyramid. Does anyone else remember the "Basic Four"? Four food groups that were generally arranged in a square: meat and fish, eggs and dairy, fruits and vegetables, grains and beans. That setup works just fine for me to keep track.
Nourishing Traditions, the bible of real food, recognizes certain foods that are nutrient dense: organ meats, shellfish, other meat, bone broth, eggs, and raw or cultured dairy are the main ones. I try to have something that's pretty nutrient-dense at every meal. You'll notice these are all animal foods. Animal foods tend to have everything an animal (like us) needs, because they're made from (or, in the case of milk, for) animals! Most of the nutrients in animal foods are readily absorbed, too, because they're in the same form that we use and don't need to be converted into a usable form. Ideally you should pick the healthiest animals possible to eat, like grassfed beef, pastured chickens, and wild fish.
Once I've got a small portion of animal foods in each meal, I start thinking about vegetables. Vegetables provide vitamins that don't transfer as well from animal foods, like vitamin C, which is destroyed by cooking. Some vegetables should be eaten raw, and some, like broccoli and spinach, should be cooked. Some fat on your vegetables, like BUTTER for instance (yum) will help you absorb any fat-soluble vitamins they provide. They also make you more likely to eat a lot of them!
If I've got an animal food and a vegetable or two, I can really stop there. I use fruits as snacks throughout the day. (When I was a kid, I only ever ate one fruit a day, at lunch. I'm beginning to discover how nice it is to eat more than that! Some fruits are expensive, but some, like bananas, aren't.) But the other foods, like grains and beans, have a place too. Since they are not as high in nutrients as meat and vegetables, I don't make them the centerpiece. But they're good for filling up the corners if you have high calorie needs. It's important, though, never to let nutrient-poor foods crowd out the nutrient-dense ones ... something I do very often, when I bake bread. I end up eating the bread all day instead of having a real lunch. It fills me up great, but it's pretty deficient in nutrients! I do eat whole-wheat bread, but since it's a seed, most of its vitamins are bound up so as to be useless to us. I've read a lot about soaking, sprouting, or fermenting grains in order to free up those vitamins, but it's easier for me not to expect grains to be a big source of nutrients.
Ideally, you're supposed to eat a probiotic food, like a lacto-fermented vegetable or cultured dairy, at every meal. Lacto-fermenting ketchup and salsa are good ways to make that readily available. Sour cream also is an excellent garnish for many foods, particularly soup. Only a tablespoon or two is really necessary. Make sure to add them once the food has cooled so that you don't kill all the friendly bacteria.
So, I'd better give some examples. For dinners, we often just have a piece of meat (chicken or pork), a vegetable (spinach with butter, creamed collard greens), and potatoes (I count these as a starch, not a vegetable). Other days we have some kind of soup or chowder: bone broth, a vegetable, and a starch. An example would be carrot soup -- chicken stock, carrots, and potatoes are the main ingredients. Other times, it's some kind of combined dish: spaghetti contains meat, vegetables (tomatoes, onions, and mushrooms), and pasta. Shepherds' pie has meat, vegetables, and potatoes.
During the day, I tend to just eat whenever I'm hungry. Eggs make a better breakfast than cereal, being denser in nutrients AND higher in protein ... so that you're not dealing with a carb crash all morning. Sometimes I have a bit of fruit. Or if I have yogurt in the fridge, I have that with some jam. Later on, I might have some leftover vegetables, a salad with crumbled bacon and kimchi (SO GOOD), a sandwich, more fruit, cheese, and -- if I have any bread -- way more bread than I should be eating. To help keep me a bit more balanced in what I'm eating, I sometimes make things ahead of time that have a variety of ingredients: whole wheat carrot muffins made with eggs and milk or ham and cheese pockets. I don't really have a lot of discipline where food is concerned ... I eat what's there, whenever I feel like it. I could use to work on this -- once the baby's older, and we have (hopefully) more kids, I would like to just make one big breakfast and lunch and have us all eat it instead of snacking throughout the day.
So, that's not exactly what I'd call a carefully planned diet. I do make sure to buy a variety of vegetables so we're not always eating the same thing. But overall, as long as I'm not over-focusing on any one of the four food groups to the detriment of the rest, I tend to feel okay about what I'm eating. I could use a bit more discipline, though, and more knowledge would certainly not hurt. I'm aware I don't follow the WAPF diet completely, but I do try.
What about you? How do you know you are providing a balanced diet for your family (or yourself)?
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Food sensitivities
Then I remembered I had reintroduced tomatoes, the last thing to add back into my diet, weeks ago. At the time I didn't notice any new symptoms -- but I hadn't thought to look for coughing, and he got that cold very soon after that, as I remember. So I cut tomatoes back out for a couple days to see if it helped.
Two nights later, he slept through the night. Seven hours. I don't think he's done that since he was three months old!
But I forgot about it the next day at dinnertime, and made chili with diced tomatoes in it. I was up at midnight and two o'clock with a coughing baby, and from four to five with a crying baby. He wasn't feeling well, and I blame the tomatoes. I'm going to be more careful to avoid them now, and see if I can get this cough gone.
After a lot of experience with this boy and his ways, it's become a habit, every time he seems extra fussy, won't sleep when expected to, or has some odd symptom, to look at food first. What new foods have I been eating? What foods have I not been eating? What foods have I introduced to him lately? When everything he eats agrees with him, he is almost always happy. He naps regularly, plays independently, explores the world, and doesn't get upset easily. But when he's not feeling well -- either sick, teething, or sensitive to a food -- he is clingy, weepy, and doesn't sleep well. I've stopped writing off his bad days as "just out of sorts today" and starting to find causes. Even going through my notes from when he was a newborn, I can see that he was incredibly fussy and stuffy-nosed at two weeks old, and that was the same time I was eating that tomato casserole every night! Bingo.
Food sensitivities are widespread
Food sensitivities are, in my opinion, underdiagnosed. We all know people who are violently allergic to nuts or bee stings, but what about people who feel unwell from milk or get heartburn from tomatoes? Often a person reaches adulthood before they make the connection. And it seems quite likely to me that this connection is sometimes never made: people with IBS, acid reflux, eczema, chronic acne assume that there is no cure, when, in some of these cases, a diet change might help. It's easy to say, "Oh, everyone's got allergies these days, they're just making a fuss over nothing," but my reaction is rather, "A nagging health problem could be cured by making a simple diet change? Sign me up!"
When kids have food sensitivities, they're not always able to make the connection. Sometimes they're not even aware of what's bothering them; they just feel out of sorts and act up. Or those food sensitivities can cause mental and behavioral problems that we think is "just the way they are." This article amazed me with its claim that two-thirds of kids with ADHD improved with an elimination diet. Two thirds! I've even heard of kids with autistic-like symptoms improving when certain foods were eliminated.
Not all food sensitivities are allergic reactions. Some may be a problem with digestion -- tomatoes, for instance, are very acid, and some grains are hard to digest. Celiac disease is an example of a severe food sensitivity not caused by allergies. (If you suspect you or your child have celiac disease, see a doctor. But be aware that a blood test for celiac will only show up positive if the disease is very advanced. A good doctor or naturopath can try other tests or lead you through an elimination diet.)
Food sensitivities and babies
Babyhood is the ideal time to find out about what foods a baby handles well. First, because you have no prior data. This is when you discover that your kid is one of those who is allergic to nuts or shellfish -- the big allergies that adults know they have. Now is the time to find out, so it's important to watch your baby when new foods are introduced. Second, as you introduce solid foods, it's like doing an elimination diet in reverse: add one food at a time, waiting three days or longer between new foods, and watch for a reaction. If you're not sure, it's easy to skip the solids for awhile until a symptom goes away.
Most food sensitivities come with the baby actually eating the food himself, but food proteins are also passed through breastmilk, so a child can be sensitive to something you eat, as well. A formula-fed baby's at a disadvantage here: he may be sensitive to his formula, but since he's always had the same one, you think it's just his personality. If a formula-fed baby seems colicky, refluxy, or gassy, it might be wise to switch for awhile and see if that helps. Many babies who are sensitive to cow's milk are also sensitive to soy, which does make things difficult. Hypoallergenic formulas may be the only option for very sensitive formula-fed babies.
The bright side of this is that babies do sometimes grow out of food sensitivities. A baby's gut is much more porous than an adult's, and it begins to seal around 6-8 months. You may not have to be cooking without eggs or cow's milk forever, but just until the baby's tummy is ready for it.
Symptoms of a food sensitivity
So how do you recognize a food sensitivity? Here's a list of symptoms, most of which I have noticed when Marko has had the wrong thing to eat. None of them is a surefire proof of a food sensitivity, but if you see one or more of these, especially after introducing a new food, be wary and write it down!
*Unexplained crying, colic
*Excessive spitup, reflux
*Sleep problems
*Stuffy or runny nose, coughing, repeated ear infections
*Rash, eczema, severe diaper rash
*Very red cheeks, as if they've been slapped
*Green stools, diarrhea, extreme constipation
*Nursing strikes, nursing aversion, hunger strikes
*Behavior problems, hyperactivity, tantrums
These are just a few things that might appear suddenly when a child, particularly a baby, has had a food he is sensitive to. It might be nothing; it might just be the way the baby is normally. I mean, what baby doesn't have "sleep problems," by adult standards? But if these symptoms appear suddenly, and they're a big change from the way he normally is, they may be a warning sign.
How to identify and cure
When you see these warning signs, start keeping track of them right away. A food journal is really helpful, especially when your mind is full of naptimes, change times, mealtimes, and so forth. Write down what the baby has eaten and what symptoms he has each day.
Depending on how severe the problem is, there are a number of courses you can take. If it's mild, you could try cutting out one potential allergen at a time and seeing if it helps. Eliminate it both in baby's food and in your food if you are breastfeeding. Give it at least a week, preferably two, before adding it back in and cutting out something else. The downside of this approach is that it takes forever, and it won't help if the baby is allergic to more than one thing.
A more effective approach, for a more serious problem, is to eliminate all of the most common irritants: cow's milk, wheat, corn, peanuts, cruciferous vegetables (like broccoli and cauliflower), onions, garlic, spicy foods, tomatoes, chocolate, citrus, caffeine, and soy. Give it a few weeks. Milk, the most common allergen for babies, may take three weeks to get out of baby's system. You'll need to eliminate ALL foods made from these products, including all dairy products. It will be rough! But, if you see improvement in your baby after a week or so, it will encourage you to keep on. Once the baby has improved, you can start adding things back in. Consult your food journal to see what symptoms were the most common, and watch particularly for those. It takes 2-24 hours for a food mom eats to appear in her milk, and may take another day to cause symptoms in the baby, so it's probably best not to reintroduce foods more closely than every other day.
If the problem is very severe and you're in a rush to cure it, you can do what I did for a brief time and go on a very limited diet. Pick one meat, one grain, one or two veggies, and one fruit, and eat those for a few days. If there is no improvement, switch to a different meat, starch, veggie, and fruit. Don't stay on this diet for too long, or you run the risk of vitamin deficiencies. When you do see improvement, start adding foods back in, starting with the ones you eat most often or the mildest foods.
With any elimination diet, if you cheat at all, you have to start all over. That means that you should probably do it at a time that you can make all your own food instead of eating out, from boxes, or at other people's houses.
This is a lot of work and very difficult, but, if the child suddenly perks up, stops fussing, starts laughing, and his rashes and sniffles go away, it's definitely worth it. And if not, at least you know you've ruled out that possibility.
Some people believe food sensitivities can be healed in time using the GAPS diet. This is a diet intended to heal a gut that has become too porous and is "leaking" allergens into the bloodstream. I haven't tried it, but it may be useful, especially for a child who has multiple allergies. You can avoid tomatoes forever, but when a child is showing up allergic to wheat, dairy, nuts, eggs, and who-knows-what-else, there may be something wrong in his digestive system that is causing this.
As for Marko? His cough is not gone yet, so we'll give it a few days, and not add anything new into his diet for a bit. I'll let you know if we manage to get rid of that cough!
Friday, January 21, 2011
Lactational amenorrhea
There are two myths floating around about nursing and pregnancy. One of them is, "Breastfeeding is not a reliable method of delaying pregnancy," and the other is, "You can't get pregnant while your baby is still nursing." Both are false. On the one hand, everyone knows someone who got pregnant while their baby was still nursing, even exclusively. On the other, the average experience is that most women remain infertile for a year or more while nursing their babies.
This makes sense, if you think about it. Doctors mostly agree that it's good for a woman's body to get a chance to recover from pregnancy before getting pregnant again. And yet many cultures throughout history have used no birth control at all, while still having healthy children. For instance, the !Kung tribe of Africa and the Gainj tribe of New Guinea have children spaced about four years apart, despite their lack of birth control, and they don't (as some cultures do) practice abstinence while breastfeeding.
One reason for such varying results is that amenorrhea (the absence of cycles) depends on the level of prolactin, the milk-producing hormone, in the mother. And the level of prolactin depends mainly on how often she nurses her baby, as well as how much time she spends close to and touching her baby. So a mother who pumps milk and feeds in a bottle, four times a day, is in a very different boat from the mother who holds her baby in a sling where he can nurse as often as he likes.
My source for all this information is the book The Seven Standards of Ecological Breastfeeding by Sheila Kippley. (Mrs. Kippley is a very nice lady who taught my online NFP course, and was very understanding of the fact that I was only taking it because my marriage prep required it -- you can find her and her organization here. (She also cofounded the Couple to Couple League, but is no longer affiliated with them.)) Two helpful online sources are Wikipedia and this page from Kellymom.
Mrs. Kippley describes seven rules that will encourage the mother to remain in lactational amenorrhea. As an added bonus, they also are good parenting tips. The seven standards are:
1. Breastfeed exclusively for the first six months of life; don't use other liquids or solids, not even water. Solids should be introduced gradually after six months so that they don't take the place of nursing.
2. Pacify or comfort your baby at your breasts. In other words, don't wait till you believe the baby is hungry; nurse him whenever he wants, even if you know it's just for comfort. Babies nurse when they're hurt, scared, lonely, or bored as well as just hungry. You can't always tell which is which, but nursing is a safe bet!
3. Don't use bottles and don't use pacifiers. Mothers are told they must pump milk for an occasional bottle, "just to keep the baby used to it" or "just to give dad a turn." That's not really necessary, and will reduce the mother's prolactin. Pacifiers get babies to nurse less frequently by fulfilling his need to suck. My baby so preferred a pacifier he was losing weight at four months old. Very scary -- much better to avoid where possible.
4. Sleep with your baby for night feedings. Being in close contact with your baby increases prolactin levels dramatically, even if he's not nursing much at night. If he is, it's an added bonus. Some mothers will remain in amenorrhea without this rule; some won't.
5. Sleep with your baby for a daily-nap feeding. This one is the hardest for many mothers, who wait for naptime to get things done. But taking a nap with the baby, which I've done a lot recently, really helps to make up for all the nighttime sleep you miss and all the energy baby takes up. It's also really cozy. You don't actually have to sleep for this one, but you should rest for at least half an hour, Mrs. Kippley says.
6. Nurse frequently day and night, and avoid schedules. So the once-every-three-hours or once-every-four-hours schedule is just not going to do the trick. Preferably you should be nursing every two hours or less, but it does depend on what the baby wants. Nursing sessions don't have to be long at all; traditional peoples studied nursed every half hour, with nursing sessions of a minute or so long!
7. Avoid any practice that restricts nursing or separates you from your baby. Working moms do not usually have a very long period of amenorrhea. Neither do moms who are in a hurry to leave their baby with a babysitter at a young age. Obviously, if you're not giving a bottle, you won't be leaving your baby for long anyway. Now that Marko's nine months old, I leave him for short periods pretty readily, but if he starts calling for Mama or nurse, I hurry straight back.
People are different, and so some people will experience a long period of amenorrhea with only some of the seven standards. Others have to follow them slavishly to get the same result. Even with strict adherence, some will have 9-12 months of infertility and some will have two years, three years, or even more. A few will have to wean completely before they are able to achieve pregnancy again.
Because of this uncertainty, I'd stop short of calling breastfeeding a "form of birth control." Because control is the one thing you haven't got. You might have nine months between pregnancies, or you might have two years. You might be surprised to get pregnant before you feel ready, and you might be impatient for your next child and be unable to conceive for awhile. It's pretty much out of your hands!
A baby who is very needy will usually nurse a lot, providing a longer period of infertility than an "easy" baby. When the baby starts sleeping through the night, fertility is encouraged to return. So the spacing will turn out to be what the baby needs, and he'll get your undivided attention for the amount of time he needs it.
Adding to the lack of control you have is the fact that you may not know fertility is returning before conception happens. This happens in about 6% of cases. If you really need to know, some method of natural family planning or fertility awareness should be used.
I'm not doing that, though, because I like not being in control. I believe that deciding when babies come is God's job, not mine, and unless some catastrophe were to make childbearing truly imprudent, I want to allow my children to be born in the timing planned by God and nature.
Another advantage of this method is that a period of amenorrhea is beneficial to a woman's body. This is why breastfeeding reduces the risk, not only of breast cancer, but of uterine, cervical, and other cancers. (source) Not to mention the infertile period is a time to bounce back from birth and renew vitamin and mineral stores. Clearly a pause in fertility is just what nature intended.
So, when I tell people I am not using any form of birth control to prevent pregnancy, I'm not being irresponsible, nor am I likely to have 19 children like Michelle Duggar. (Though she can have 19 if she wants to -- no skin off my nose!) Instead, I'm following the natural course of human reproduction that my body is designed for. I trust that it will return to normal fertility when it's recovered and ready to support another child. Yes, it's an exercise in trust because I have no idea when that will be -- but that's okay. I like it better this way.
Note: The methods outlined above are useful for increasing prolactin for any reason, not just child spacing -- so mothers who need to increase milk supply, for instance, should try some of the seven standards.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Cod liver oil
Yes, I'm talking about that traditional health tonic no kid ever wants to take.
When I was in college (as well as before then) I had crippling headaches. They lasted for days and were really, really bad. At one point I talked to a friend's mom who was a nurse and into natural healing, and she suggested I take a bunch of different vitamins. That did seem to help, unless it was the coming of spring that helped. (I only get these headaches in the winter, pretty much, and only on the East Coast. The cold triggers them.) But after awhile I stopped taking them and didn't notice any particular difference. When the headaches came back, I'd take them for awhile and then forget about them.
After graduation, my first winter on my own, I was sick all the time. First off, I was teaching, and being a teacher must be the most disease-prone career ever. You always get everything the kids have. Then I was cold all the time, because I didn't have a car and was walking everywhere ... and the cold set off those nasty headaches. I didn't get much sleep either, I didn't eat right, and I was under a ton of stress. So, small wonder I got pharyngitis and cold after cold. I also had bad skin and overall felt lousy even the few times I wasn't sick.
I couldn't afford to improve my diet much, and the stress and lack of sleep were inevitable for a new teacher with 120 students I saw every day. The one thing I could change was to add a supplement. I had read recently that vitamin supplements aren't really so great, because the vitamins in them are artificially derived and therefore not used as well by the body. I have no source for that, but I have noticed food does tend to work for me a little better than tablets.
I was looking mainly to improve my skin, and wanted vitamin A for that. A friend told me she'd cured her acne with it. But I wanted something naturally derived. My mom suggested cod liver oil, so I picked it a bottle of tiny capsules the next time I was at the store and started taking them every night along with the multivitamin I was taking already.
They worked well enough to clear up my skin in time for my wedding. My sicknesses also got better, but then, it was spring. I kept taking the cod liver oil until I ran out of the bottle -- by which point I was pregnant. I mentioned it to my mom and she said, "Make sure you get more -- you have to take it every day when you're pregnant, because it's good for baby's brain." So I took it every day, along with my prenatal vitamin.
That winter, I was sick once. For one day. I credited this to being pregnant, but I've since heard others say they were sick more often during pregnancy. And, definitely, the kids I taught, being younger, weren't sick any less often. The swine flu went through and gave us 50% absentee rates for awhile. All I got was a sinus thing that lasted 24 hours, with a slight fever.
I now know that cod liver oil is rich in vitamin D as well as vitamin A, and that vitamin D is an extremely important nutrient for the immune system. I have no doubt that this is one of the reasons why sickness is so rampant in the wintertime. Besides those two vitamins, it also has high levels of DHA and EPA, two omega-3 fatty acids that are essential for the brain and vision as well as other areas of the body. (source)
The problem is, I can no longer find it at the grocery store in capsules. And I recently discovered that almost all commercially-available brands are heat-processed, and the heat processing destroys some of the vitamins. The stuff to get, say real-food advocates, is the fermented stuff, made the way the Vikings and ancient Romans used to. They would mix fish livers with seawater in a barrel and leave it for as much as a year. The fermenting process breaks down the livers and releases the oil, which they would then take as a health tonic and a seasoning. To the best of my knowledge, there is only one brand in the US that makes it the old-fashioned way. I was reduced to buying it off the internet in liquid form at a higher price than I used to.
To mitigate the price factor, I got some on sale because they were discontinuing the "Mediterranean" flavor. The stuff is heavy on the basil, but also contains garlic and salt, all to mask the natural flavor, which I've heard from numerous bloggers is pretty nasty.
Okay, so the stuff arrived and I've started taking it. The first time, I loaded in a medicine syringe and shot it to the back of my throat, which is a technique others have recommended. It kind of made me gag having it way in the back of my throat there, but it didn't taste that bad. Just like basil, with maybe a hint of something else, not distinctly fishy, just unfamiliar. So the next time I just took it with a spoon. This turned out to be a BAD CHOICE. It tasted like spaghetti gone horribly, horribly wrong. I can't describe it. It's just a nasty, nasty taste that isn't like anything else I know of. Not much like fish, and not like liver either. (Let it be known, though, that I am picky about fish and detest all liver.)
My current routine is to take it before bed, about a half teaspoon (I'm working up to a teaspoon) out of the syringe. It has to be before bed, because if I take it in the morning, I have to deal with the smell of it in my nose for some time, and I find myself eating all kinds of things trying to forget about that smell. But if I take it really quickly at night, and then follow with my bedtime snack (a piece of bread and jam and a glass of milk), it really isn't that bad. I can hardly taste the cod liver itself, and the oiliness and basil-y-ness is easily washed away after a bite of bread and jam.
So, would I recommend it? You notice I didn't give the brand name, mainly because I don't want you to think I'm trying to sell the stuff to you. I'm not, because I don't use this blog to make money and the company doesn't know I exist. However, I think I would recommend it. I've only been taking it for a few days, but already John's had a truly wretched cold. The baby had it too when I started taking the oil, but I hadn't had it yet. The day after my first dose, I had a scratchy throat and a bit of congestion, and I thought "Here it comes!" But the next day, all that was gone, and the baby was also much better. John's the only one still hacking. True, it may be totally unrelated, or it may be a placebo effect. But the one undeniable fact is that it contains some really good vitamins. In the wintertime, it's hard to get any sunshine to make vitamin D, and there are few foods that have it. Nursing and pregnant moms are recommended to take vitamin D anyway, but I prefer to find naturally occurring vitamins as opposed to artificial ones. Cod liver oil fits the bill for that.
So, if you can find cod liver oil, it's a great supplement for the wintertime. You will probably have to go online or to a health food store, though, since it's hard to find lately. If you want the fermented stuff, follow this link. The Mediterranean flavor's discontinued now, but I have heard the cinnamon tingle recommended. Or, if you don't mind the extra price (and I totally wouldn't, if I had the money at all, which I don't), get the capsules and you won't have to taste it at all.
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