Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Breaking News
For the first time in over two years, my hair is officially long enough for a ponytail. You have no idea how excited I am. I keep petting it. It doesn't take much, folks.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Nutrition News
Original here. (Ellipted for space and relevance)
Researchers with the Unilever Food & Health Research Institute examined the effects of gas-filled liquid foods on the appetites of 24 overweight adults.
The study participants received a gas-filled liquid meal or a standard liquid shake, either as a single large serving (1,000 milliliters for the gas-filled liquid, 325 milliliters for the standard liquid), or as two half-servings given two hours apart. The total calorie count from the drinks was the same. Participants reported feelings of hunger and fullness for four hours after drinking the shakes.
The experiment showed that both the full- and half-size gas-filled liquids significantly reduced appetite ratings when compared to the standard liquid meals.
But one might wonder: Could a belly full of gas lead to a big bellyache? Researchers noted "increased reports of gastrointestinal complaints" among those who received the large gas-filled liquid meals.
Let’s break this down. There has been a lot of nutritional research that suggests that eating soup before a meal causes you to eat fewer total calories than if you just ate the meal itself or ate it with a big glass of water. I’m not familiar with the “adding air” experiments.
Unilever makes slim-fast, so that’s almost definitely the “liquid meal” in question. They have somehow turned it into a fizzy lifting drink, which sounds absolutely revolting because I hear “gas in liquid” and immediately think “soda,” but it turns out that the actual mechanism they used is closer to whipped cream. (According to Agence France Presse.) So that’s less gross, but I can’t quite picture it as a drink. Apparently, soda doesn’t work because the gas isn’t stable enough (i.e. it won’t make you feel full because it’s gone by the time the drink hits your stomach).
Still, even if the whipped slim-fast isn’t completely foul, it’s going to give you a GI incident…which is just as gross. How many of those low appetite ratings actually meant “please don’t make me drink any more of this?”
My take? DIY and see how you feel. Buy a regular diet shake, pour half of it into a pint glass and hit it with an immersion blender. (or pour it into a regular blender, but I think that will take longer to form stable bubbles.)
If you feel befouled, don't do it again.
Researchers with the Unilever Food & Health Research Institute examined the effects of gas-filled liquid foods on the appetites of 24 overweight adults.
The study participants received a gas-filled liquid meal or a standard liquid shake, either as a single large serving (1,000 milliliters for the gas-filled liquid, 325 milliliters for the standard liquid), or as two half-servings given two hours apart. The total calorie count from the drinks was the same. Participants reported feelings of hunger and fullness for four hours after drinking the shakes.
The experiment showed that both the full- and half-size gas-filled liquids significantly reduced appetite ratings when compared to the standard liquid meals.
But one might wonder: Could a belly full of gas lead to a big bellyache? Researchers noted "increased reports of gastrointestinal complaints" among those who received the large gas-filled liquid meals.
Let’s break this down. There has been a lot of nutritional research that suggests that eating soup before a meal causes you to eat fewer total calories than if you just ate the meal itself or ate it with a big glass of water. I’m not familiar with the “adding air” experiments.
Unilever makes slim-fast, so that’s almost definitely the “liquid meal” in question. They have somehow turned it into a fizzy lifting drink, which sounds absolutely revolting because I hear “gas in liquid” and immediately think “soda,” but it turns out that the actual mechanism they used is closer to whipped cream. (According to Agence France Presse.) So that’s less gross, but I can’t quite picture it as a drink. Apparently, soda doesn’t work because the gas isn’t stable enough (i.e. it won’t make you feel full because it’s gone by the time the drink hits your stomach).
Still, even if the whipped slim-fast isn’t completely foul, it’s going to give you a GI incident…which is just as gross. How many of those low appetite ratings actually meant “please don’t make me drink any more of this?”
My take? DIY and see how you feel. Buy a regular diet shake, pour half of it into a pint glass and hit it with an immersion blender. (or pour it into a regular blender, but I think that will take longer to form stable bubbles.)
If you feel befouled, don't do it again.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Blood and Guts
I try to give blood. It's on my list of things to do in my life. Maybe once a year or so, I think "that would be a nice thing to do, and it will be a nice way to conquer my fear of needles." I really do try. It just never works out.
I get very little support in this endeavor, by the way. Every time I bring it up to friends, they tell me horror stories about passing out. A few seem to have a pathological fear of blood. None of them seems to understand my need to donate my blood at least once in my life.
Every few months, there's a blood drive at work. And one of my friends donates regularly, so I decided to go down with him on Thursday. He advised me to eat and drink before I went. So I did. I was very good. I filled out the questionnaire, got my finger prick, lay down on the bed...Dave, my friend, was next to me, and let me tell you, the blood was just flying out of him.
Periodically, the guy who told you which bed to go to (who was wearing a purple shirt) would come by and look at the nurse by me, and eventually she came over. She clamped the band around my arm and had me squeeze a little toy. Then the guy in the purple shirt came over and tapped my arm and told her which vein to go for. It occurred to me at that point that maybe this girl was new or something, but she had a line in the woman next to me, so I figured it would be OK.
So, the stupid girl puts the needle in, and it really hurt. But I've never given blood before, and I'm kind of a baby about needles, so I'm trying to be brave...and then she runs over to the guy collecting Dave's blood and says "her vein is blowing up."
So he says "you have to take it out. Clamp it, tape it down, and I'll be right over."
Then she gets the guy in the purple shirt, and they're all working on getting the port out of my arm.
I was trying not to look, so I stayed facing Dave, who was COMPLETELY DONE by this point.
The girl bandaged my arm, and I asked her what happened.
So she turned to the man in the purple shirt and tells him that "she wants to know why this is happening."
And the man in the purple shirt explained it thusly: "Move over to the next bed and we'll try a vein in your other arm."
Umm...no. No you won't.
By this point, Dave was up drinking juice and eating cake like no one took a pint of blood out of him just ten minutes ago. We were back at our desks within an hour.
It's like Mardi Gras in my crelbow right now. And I'm starting to feel my dream of donating blood just floating (or is that flowing?) away.
I get very little support in this endeavor, by the way. Every time I bring it up to friends, they tell me horror stories about passing out. A few seem to have a pathological fear of blood. None of them seems to understand my need to donate my blood at least once in my life.
Every few months, there's a blood drive at work. And one of my friends donates regularly, so I decided to go down with him on Thursday. He advised me to eat and drink before I went. So I did. I was very good. I filled out the questionnaire, got my finger prick, lay down on the bed...Dave, my friend, was next to me, and let me tell you, the blood was just flying out of him.
Periodically, the guy who told you which bed to go to (who was wearing a purple shirt) would come by and look at the nurse by me, and eventually she came over. She clamped the band around my arm and had me squeeze a little toy. Then the guy in the purple shirt came over and tapped my arm and told her which vein to go for. It occurred to me at that point that maybe this girl was new or something, but she had a line in the woman next to me, so I figured it would be OK.
So, the stupid girl puts the needle in, and it really hurt. But I've never given blood before, and I'm kind of a baby about needles, so I'm trying to be brave...and then she runs over to the guy collecting Dave's blood and says "her vein is blowing up."
So he says "you have to take it out. Clamp it, tape it down, and I'll be right over."
Then she gets the guy in the purple shirt, and they're all working on getting the port out of my arm.
I was trying not to look, so I stayed facing Dave, who was COMPLETELY DONE by this point.
The girl bandaged my arm, and I asked her what happened.
So she turned to the man in the purple shirt and tells him that "she wants to know why this is happening."
And the man in the purple shirt explained it thusly: "Move over to the next bed and we'll try a vein in your other arm."
Umm...no. No you won't.
By this point, Dave was up drinking juice and eating cake like no one took a pint of blood out of him just ten minutes ago. We were back at our desks within an hour.
It's like Mardi Gras in my crelbow right now. And I'm starting to feel my dream of donating blood just floating (or is that flowing?) away.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Really? There's no more concise way to say this?
Another close encounter...from the same, apparently authorless, document:
Facilities, physicians and other health care professionals are reminded that to pursue an inquiry or complaint on behalf of a member through Member Services, facilities, physicians and other health care professionals must have the consent of the member.
Facilities, physicians and other health care professionals are reminded that to pursue an inquiry or complaint on behalf of a member through Member Services, facilities, physicians and other health care professionals must have the consent of the member.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Close encounter with the English language
This sentence may have met a native speaker once at a party:
Participating physicians are required to participate in this program.
Participating physicians are required to participate in this program.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Hawaii...
I never posted on Hawaii, did I?
It was beautiful. I swam and hiked and wrote...a lot.
I have a few hundred pictures to upload, but I think these should give you an idea for now:
I tore my pants getting this picture.
A few more Bradys (my parents, Lauren and Jason) enjoying the sunrise on Haleakala. My dad's stupid jacket was provided by the bike tour he was on. The rest of us are dressing ourselves now.
Matt exploring tidal pools - so cute! I have about 10 pictures just like this. My husband is seriously, like 4 or something. And then he wins a bunch of drink tickets in a poker tournament and we get trashed.
My mom with her flowers. Some idiot gave her these...he was actually trying to clean up after a beach party...and she would not let go of them, despite the fact that they were as big as her. She carted these things all over Maui. Then, literally 6 hours later, at the very last second before we reboarded the boat, she discovered that they were covered in ants and threw them all in the dumpster.
It was beautiful. I swam and hiked and wrote...a lot.
I have a few hundred pictures to upload, but I think these should give you an idea for now:
I tore my pants getting this picture.
A few more Bradys (my parents, Lauren and Jason) enjoying the sunrise on Haleakala. My dad's stupid jacket was provided by the bike tour he was on. The rest of us are dressing ourselves now.
Matt exploring tidal pools - so cute! I have about 10 pictures just like this. My husband is seriously, like 4 or something. And then he wins a bunch of drink tickets in a poker tournament and we get trashed. 
My mom with her flowers. Some idiot gave her these...he was actually trying to clean up after a beach party...and she would not let go of them, despite the fact that they were as big as her. She carted these things all over Maui. Then, literally 6 hours later, at the very last second before we reboarded the boat, she discovered that they were covered in ants and threw them all in the dumpster.Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Post-operative procedures
Discovered while researching my latest scintillating Women's Health article:
To prevent infection, for a few weeks after the cesarean birth you should not place anything in your vagina.
But, but...the baby takes up so much closet space! Where am I supposed to store my tamagotchi?!?
To prevent infection, for a few weeks after the cesarean birth you should not place anything in your vagina.
But, but...the baby takes up so much closet space! Where am I supposed to store my tamagotchi?!?
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