It’s not that I don’t like folks who grow grains. I mean, I am related to some wonderful folks who grow wheat for a living, who are on my husband’s side of the family. I’ve been to their church bazaars and eaten their jello molds.
In France, I went to medical school at Amiens in the Somme, the breadbasket of France, and I took care of lots of stalwart folks who grew wheat for a living. Read more on Dump the Breadbasket and Turn That Food Pyramid on its Point…
I will never forget the sad and jowly face of the obese young mother in her thirties who told me, “maybe if I had more sex with my husband, I would be thinner. Sex is supposed to burn lots of calories, right?”
I am not alone in criticizing recent research on egg consumption. The criticism on Dr. David Spence’s own medical school website tells a big piece of the story.
First, I must say that being a clinical medical researcher is a tough row to hoe. I always thought “bench” researchers, folks in climate controlled labs who work with mice or test tubes, had it easy compared to people trying to learn things about humans.
The hardest part, I believed for years, was simply to prove “causality,” for although it is possible to show things happen at the same time, it is generally pretty much impossible to prove something “caused” something else. Read more on Incredible Edible Eggs (Not Dangerous!)…
This is an update of a previous post:
Science keeps changing and moving forward so quickly that even an avowed knowledge addict like me can sometimes do little more than hang on for the ride.
Back when I wrote my earlier post, I already knew for sure that I wanted to live for as close to forever as possible. Calorie restriction had been touted as one possible way to do do so, and change in the gut flora was one possible mechanism. Read more on Update On Calories and Longevity…
I am not following the Olympics, but when news breaks — I hear the tinkling of little glass cups.
What are the red, round hickeys on swim champ Michael Phelps’ shoulders?
It is hard for me to digest the events of July 14 in Nice, France, as I feel especially close to them.
I was present at seven such annual patriotic ceremonies during my tenure as a student of medicine in a French government facility. I loved the street-fair atmosphere, where I sang at the top of my lungs and danced with a whole heart.
As a medical student in government service, a terrorist attack would have mobilized me into service of France, a nation I can only love, which gave me a medical education essentially free of charge, asking only for me to prove on an exam that I had what it takes.
I wear a tiny Eiffel Tower around my neck — I stroke it as I write. Read more on Terrorism In Nice…