I was shopping one day a year or so ago and discovered that I could read food labels without my reading glasses if I squinted. Ah freedom, no longer dependent on glasses that are somewhere that I am not, I now scrunch my lids easily and often over the printed page.
So no problem today when my glasses again gave me the slip. Squinted and healed my way through the afternoon. As I threw a wad of exam table paper in the trash, I noticed the dark plastic ear piece of a pair of glasses poking up from under a discarded kleenex box (ah yes, threw that away late morning after a lady wept her way through her appointment). Well how about that, some hare-brained patient has thrown her glasses away, methought.
Need I say more?
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Stain or abstain: The coffee question
Here's a riff on a menopause moment of a different sort.
I've always been an early riser. Time it was that I'd rise and shine, as in hit the pavement for a walk, or throw on clothes and get to work early to catch up on charts. Now I rise and read, savoring hot, fresh coffee and the morning paper or a book before anyone else is up.
The operative words in my current, slower, menopausal mornings are 'savor' paired with 'hot, fresh coffee' and 'a book'. Coffee has been exonerated of any connection to pancreatic cancer or breast cancer. Its consumption is linked to decreased risk of diabetes, Alzheimer's disease, and cirrhosis of the liver. I actually don't entirely trust people who don't like coffee, and I am appalled by the number of my patients who declare with a certain virtuous smugness that they've given up coffee only to substitute diet pop.
But I am deeply dismayed by this advice from a New York cosmetic dentist as found in the September issue of Health Magazine:
I avoid stained teeth by drinking my coffee quickly. If you sip it over the course of an hour; it keeps coating and recoating.
Gad, don't want any of that coating and recoating business. Perhaps the good doctor takes hers intravenously?
I've always been an early riser. Time it was that I'd rise and shine, as in hit the pavement for a walk, or throw on clothes and get to work early to catch up on charts. Now I rise and read, savoring hot, fresh coffee and the morning paper or a book before anyone else is up.
The operative words in my current, slower, menopausal mornings are 'savor' paired with 'hot, fresh coffee' and 'a book'. Coffee has been exonerated of any connection to pancreatic cancer or breast cancer. Its consumption is linked to decreased risk of diabetes, Alzheimer's disease, and cirrhosis of the liver. I actually don't entirely trust people who don't like coffee, and I am appalled by the number of my patients who declare with a certain virtuous smugness that they've given up coffee only to substitute diet pop.
But I am deeply dismayed by this advice from a New York cosmetic dentist as found in the September issue of Health Magazine:
I avoid stained teeth by drinking my coffee quickly. If you sip it over the course of an hour; it keeps coating and recoating.
Gad, don't want any of that coating and recoating business. Perhaps the good doctor takes hers intravenously?
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Grounds for concern
Got the coffee ready early yesterday morning using the fancy Costa Rican beans that my daughter brought back from her recent trip. Flipped the switch, then headed upstairs for leisurely work on my hair and face before breakfast.
Alas, I stopped one task short of completion in the coffee-brewing business--forgot to put the carafe in place. After the basket filled with hot water (our model has a valve that prevents water flow out of the basket when the pot is removed), the overflow, complete with grounds, oozed over the top, onto the counter, under cannisters, dish drainer, toaster oven, Magic Bullet, and into the newspaper.
And my pleasant early morning routine? Grounded!
Alas, I stopped one task short of completion in the coffee-brewing business--forgot to put the carafe in place. After the basket filled with hot water (our model has a valve that prevents water flow out of the basket when the pot is removed), the overflow, complete with grounds, oozed over the top, onto the counter, under cannisters, dish drainer, toaster oven, Magic Bullet, and into the newspaper.
And my pleasant early morning routine? Grounded!
Saturday, November 22, 2008
No waisting these pants!
This is not a menopause moment in a brain freeze sort of sense, but only a woman of a certain age could carry off such an episode with such aplomb. Here's what happened to my patient Donna:
She arrived at the store early; the parking lot was virtually empty. The proprietor of the small store stood at the door, enjoying the unseasonably warm day. He flashed her a welcoming smile as she got out of the car and began to walk across the lot.
Donna is working on weight loss but not yet ready to buy new pants, so she pulled on a baggy old pair for this errand run. Alas, halfway to the store, the stretched-out sweats dropped to her ankles. The store owner quickly looked away, but darned if Donna didn't reach down, hitch up her britches, and tuck them into her underwear under her shirt. Then...she proceeded into the store to conduct her business; after all, who's got time to do these chores twice?
She arrived at the store early; the parking lot was virtually empty. The proprietor of the small store stood at the door, enjoying the unseasonably warm day. He flashed her a welcoming smile as she got out of the car and began to walk across the lot.
Donna is working on weight loss but not yet ready to buy new pants, so she pulled on a baggy old pair for this errand run. Alas, halfway to the store, the stretched-out sweats dropped to her ankles. The store owner quickly looked away, but darned if Donna didn't reach down, hitch up her britches, and tuck them into her underwear under her shirt. Then...she proceeded into the store to conduct her business; after all, who's got time to do these chores twice?
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Buy this woman a cold Flat Tire beer!
Cil writes about a trio of moments in celebration of one of those half-century+ birthdays:
First we welcomed a cold front. Overjoyed to have open windows again, it was dismaying for me to see the return of my night sweats.The bedroom thermometer said 64, a cold breeze wafted in, and I was lying there in bed with no covers on, sweating profusely. Ah, what a bittersweet moment.
Then I went to work, left school at the end of the day, and puzzled over the fact that my car keys could not be found in my purse, my pockets, my book bag. No, I thought to myself, I couldn't have done it. But I had. I found the keys in my ignition.
My hat trick concluded yesterday. You probably don't have to be menopausal to be clueless enough to get in a car and drive it several blocks before realizing you have a flat tire. But to have this happen on your 54th birthday just seems so poetic.
First we welcomed a cold front. Overjoyed to have open windows again, it was dismaying for me to see the return of my night sweats.The bedroom thermometer said 64, a cold breeze wafted in, and I was lying there in bed with no covers on, sweating profusely. Ah, what a bittersweet moment.
Then I went to work, left school at the end of the day, and puzzled over the fact that my car keys could not be found in my purse, my pockets, my book bag. No, I thought to myself, I couldn't have done it. But I had. I found the keys in my ignition.
My hat trick concluded yesterday. You probably don't have to be menopausal to be clueless enough to get in a car and drive it several blocks before realizing you have a flat tire. But to have this happen on your 54th birthday just seems so poetic.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Acetyl L-Carnitine
I discovered this product through Dr. Larry McCleary's book "The Brain Trust Program" (and I again recommend this book to you). There is certainly no shortage of supplements that purport to improve your cognitive functioning and protect it against age-related damage. Acetyl l-carnitine(ALC), along with Huperzine-A (both available at a very reasonable price through Swanson Health Products) has some decent science to back up such claims.
In order to keep your neurons in charge of memory functioning in touch with one another, you need to produce the neurotransmitter acetylcholine(ACH). And what better way to keep a supply of ACH on hand than to take ALC? ALC not only supplies acetyl to your neurons as aging diminishes ACH, but studies suggest that ALC improves verbal memory so you won't carry on like a newscaster casting about for the right word when you're trying to appear sharp and on-your-game in a world that increasingly demands these qualities. ALC also seems to promote the production of nerve growth factors integral in brain cell maintenance.
How will we know for sure it's working other than waking up in our 70's and 80's with brains intact? Coincident with or as a result of taking Swanson's ALC and huperzine A, my day-to-day verbal fluency and working memory capacity has improved. You might consider giving them a try.
In order to keep your neurons in charge of memory functioning in touch with one another, you need to produce the neurotransmitter acetylcholine(ACH). And what better way to keep a supply of ACH on hand than to take ALC? ALC not only supplies acetyl to your neurons as aging diminishes ACH, but studies suggest that ALC improves verbal memory so you won't carry on like a newscaster casting about for the right word when you're trying to appear sharp and on-your-game in a world that increasingly demands these qualities. ALC also seems to promote the production of nerve growth factors integral in brain cell maintenance.
How will we know for sure it's working other than waking up in our 70's and 80's with brains intact? Coincident with or as a result of taking Swanson's ALC and huperzine A, my day-to-day verbal fluency and working memory capacity has improved. You might consider giving them a try.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Not so Level-headed
Let me tell you the story
Of a man named Charlie
On a tragic and fateful day
He put ten cents in his pocket,
Kissed his wife and family
Went to ride on the MTA
Did he ever return,
No he never returned
And his fate is still unlearn'd
He may ride forever
'neath the streets of Boston
He's the man who never returned.
---The Kingston Trio
I briefly considered the possibility this past Sunday that I would soon become the stuff of urban legend as the woman who never emerged from the Mall of America. I entered the "largest indoor mall in the USA" in the late afternoon with sensible shoes, orthotics, a light sweater, and 2 hours to kill. A regular modern day Gretel sans bread crumbs, I noted a Finish Line store by the entrance and signs for "Bubba Gump's Restaurant, Level 3." Check, find the Finish Line on Level 3 when I'm set to go and I'm outta here, I thought, though weird that Level 3 is street level.
2 hours later. Feet throbbing, visions of a dark and cold Minneapolis late afternoon outside but inside I'm sweating in this stupid sweater and I've toured the entire perimeter of Level 3, passed one Finish Line store and spotted one below on Level 2, but alas now I'm in a carpeted stretch of corrider and no carpeting anywhere else thus far.
I picked up a "Help Line" and held for help.
Do you know where I am based on where I'm calling from, I asked the male helper.
Sure.
So how do I reach the exit for the hotel shuttles from here.
The other side of the mall, Level 1.
Well, of course, Level 1 signs invite Level 1 shoppers to visit Bubba Gump's on Level 3. No one, not even in Minnesota, starts on a mall on Level 3. I took the elevator to Level 1, limped through the horror of the indoor amusement park, and emerged like some sweaty mall rat blinking small pink eyes in the bright, sunny late afternoon air.
This per Nina Silverstein and company in their book "Dementia and Wandering Behavior":
Alzheimer's patients do not get lost because they have forgotten where they are going, they get lost because they cannot keep track of where they've been.
Of a man named Charlie
On a tragic and fateful day
He put ten cents in his pocket,
Kissed his wife and family
Went to ride on the MTA
Did he ever return,
No he never returned
And his fate is still unlearn'd
He may ride forever
'neath the streets of Boston
He's the man who never returned.
---The Kingston Trio
I briefly considered the possibility this past Sunday that I would soon become the stuff of urban legend as the woman who never emerged from the Mall of America. I entered the "largest indoor mall in the USA" in the late afternoon with sensible shoes, orthotics, a light sweater, and 2 hours to kill. A regular modern day Gretel sans bread crumbs, I noted a Finish Line store by the entrance and signs for "Bubba Gump's Restaurant, Level 3." Check, find the Finish Line on Level 3 when I'm set to go and I'm outta here, I thought, though weird that Level 3 is street level.
2 hours later. Feet throbbing, visions of a dark and cold Minneapolis late afternoon outside but inside I'm sweating in this stupid sweater and I've toured the entire perimeter of Level 3, passed one Finish Line store and spotted one below on Level 2, but alas now I'm in a carpeted stretch of corrider and no carpeting anywhere else thus far.
I picked up a "Help Line" and held for help.
Do you know where I am based on where I'm calling from, I asked the male helper.
Sure.
So how do I reach the exit for the hotel shuttles from here.
The other side of the mall, Level 1.
Well, of course, Level 1 signs invite Level 1 shoppers to visit Bubba Gump's on Level 3. No one, not even in Minnesota, starts on a mall on Level 3. I took the elevator to Level 1, limped through the horror of the indoor amusement park, and emerged like some sweaty mall rat blinking small pink eyes in the bright, sunny late afternoon air.
This per Nina Silverstein and company in their book "Dementia and Wandering Behavior":
Alzheimer's patients do not get lost because they have forgotten where they are going, they get lost because they cannot keep track of where they've been.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Menopause and working memory
The classic menopause moment, of course, is when you hurry with great purpose into another room only to find that you're clueless once there. If you're a mother, it's a mommy moment. Fair-haired? A blond moment. On beyond menopause? A senior moment. All these short-term lapses represent a sudden and unexpected blackout in working memory. Let me explain.
You needn't be a neuroscientist to recognize that there is a difference between working and long-term memory. Here's what Swedish researcher Dr. Torkel Klingberg has to say on the subject:
[Working memory] refers to our ability to remember information for a limited period of time, usually a matter of seconds...[I]t might seem a simple function, but it is fundamental and vital to numerous mental tasks, from attention control to solving logical problems...One of the defining characteristics of working memory is its capacity limitation.
In contrast, again per Dr. Klingberg:
The amount of information that can be stored in long-term memory is virtually boundless. Long-term memory means that we can memorize something, direct our attention at something else for a few minutes or years, and then retrieve the first item again at will. This is not how working memory operates, for when information is being stored here, it is under the constant glare of attention.
In Klingberg's book "The Overflowing Brain" due for release in 2009, he explores the good, the bad, and the exasperating of our brains on information overload. This book is well-written (or well-translated from Swedish) and not for the faint of brain. He offers both animal and human evidence as well as imaging evidence from functional MRIs and PET scans that explain why it is that the overwhelmed, the inattentive, and the aged have trouble doing two things at once much less multi-tasking.
In brief, whereas memories are encoded into long-term and permanent storage through biochemical and cellular changes, short-term memory is a work in progress that depends on the continual activation of neurons in the front and sides of our brain. Interrupt the current current in these cells and poof! there goes your thought. In other words, if an unexpected stimulus such as the ping of a text message or your teenager calling on the back office line turns your attentional spotlight off your search for a report, you will find yourself in front of an open file drawer with no notion why.
Is information overload a bad thing? Interestingly, Dr. Klingberg presents evidence that we can expand our working memory capacity through the daily exercise of focused multi-tasking. He does note, however, that working memory 'bandwidth' narrows with age, and the mismatch of lowered working memory capacity with higher information load results in stress.
Well yeah. And menopause moments.
You needn't be a neuroscientist to recognize that there is a difference between working and long-term memory. Here's what Swedish researcher Dr. Torkel Klingberg has to say on the subject:
[Working memory] refers to our ability to remember information for a limited period of time, usually a matter of seconds...[I]t might seem a simple function, but it is fundamental and vital to numerous mental tasks, from attention control to solving logical problems...One of the defining characteristics of working memory is its capacity limitation.
In contrast, again per Dr. Klingberg:
The amount of information that can be stored in long-term memory is virtually boundless. Long-term memory means that we can memorize something, direct our attention at something else for a few minutes or years, and then retrieve the first item again at will. This is not how working memory operates, for when information is being stored here, it is under the constant glare of attention.
In Klingberg's book "The Overflowing Brain" due for release in 2009, he explores the good, the bad, and the exasperating of our brains on information overload. This book is well-written (or well-translated from Swedish) and not for the faint of brain. He offers both animal and human evidence as well as imaging evidence from functional MRIs and PET scans that explain why it is that the overwhelmed, the inattentive, and the aged have trouble doing two things at once much less multi-tasking.
In brief, whereas memories are encoded into long-term and permanent storage through biochemical and cellular changes, short-term memory is a work in progress that depends on the continual activation of neurons in the front and sides of our brain. Interrupt the current current in these cells and poof! there goes your thought. In other words, if an unexpected stimulus such as the ping of a text message or your teenager calling on the back office line turns your attentional spotlight off your search for a report, you will find yourself in front of an open file drawer with no notion why.
Is information overload a bad thing? Interestingly, Dr. Klingberg presents evidence that we can expand our working memory capacity through the daily exercise of focused multi-tasking. He does note, however, that working memory 'bandwidth' narrows with age, and the mismatch of lowered working memory capacity with higher information load results in stress.
Well yeah. And menopause moments.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Huperzine and the lack of menopause moments
My latest menopause moments include 1) Losing passwords when I cleared the cookies on my computer, but those passwords lost were chosen and entrusted to memory ages before I began work on my aging brain, and 2) Muddling our 2007 tax information back in early April shortly after my mom died, and only just discovering the mess now as the final tax form is due.
Other than that, I haven't worn toothpaste, dumped water on my head, misplaced my reading glasses (alright, I mean SERIOUSLY misplaced my glasses) or made any spelling gaffes in weeks. Coincident with or a result of using huperzine? I don't know, but brain seems to be working well these days.
Stay tuned for information from "The Overflowing Brain," the newest book on my nightstand.
Other than that, I haven't worn toothpaste, dumped water on my head, misplaced my reading glasses (alright, I mean SERIOUSLY misplaced my glasses) or made any spelling gaffes in weeks. Coincident with or a result of using huperzine? I don't know, but brain seems to be working well these days.
Stay tuned for information from "The Overflowing Brain," the newest book on my nightstand.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Tossed my cookies!
Oh gad, what was I thinking? Deleted the cookies, and now I can't remember some of my passwords and user IDs. As Homer Simpson would say, "Dough!"
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