Adam Thomas, RPH

To have been truly DONE with January, I should’ve penned this post BEFORE I Welcomed February in a tyrannical rant.  This biannual recap of my musings is appropriately scheduled, though.  Unfortunately, the rest of my life … is not.

One of the reasons January was so awful, I had a sinus infection for practically the entire month.  And, it still hasn’t gone away.  The adverse effects to the antibiotic numbed/changed my taste buds.  Translation –  PBJ’s aren’t appetizing.  Gasp! Worse, coffee – my most favorite thing in, like, the world – tastes … bad almost nauseating.  Even bigger Gasp!

See, my rant was truly justified.

pbj and the Family Guy

So, here are those afterthoughts of previously posted material.  After, I’m looking for a complete catharsis to be move onward in this damn year.

• I miss El Nino. Traverse  had more snow in December than all last winter combined. January wasn’t too bad – February is looking pretty grim, though. Fortunately, I’m still doin the D3 thing
• In Tangled, it really WAS a cast iron skillet Rapunzel used even though it was referred to as a ‘frying pan’.  The latter is just easier to dialogue – especially for a Disney cartoon.  Oh, and Rapunzel  NEVER once complained about the weight of her skillet. You go, Rapunzel
• caramelizing onions is my favorite cast iron skillet  ‘to do’
• Entertainment Weekly mentioned that this is the fortieth anniversary of Rumors by Fleetwood Mac.
• I still don’t have Canadian maps on my GPS.  I still don’t care.
• Maybe I should actually stick with Christmas cards.  I sent New Years greetings this year on time – ever since my life has been quite the cluster.   Note to self – Christmas in July  2018? Anythings gotta be better than New Years 2017.
• Hollywood has to work on this whole ‘happily ever after’ thing.  LaLaLand was an incredible movie that truly does deserves the praise it’s received.  However, like Into The Woods there is NO real happily ever after. The main stars get their own ‘happily’ just not together and definitely not ‘ever after‘ .
• Along with the row machine, I’ve been spending time on the stair stepper.  It’s not the same as those 115 stairs in the east stairwell of the hotel in Canada, but my butt likes it.  Buns of concrete, baby.
• No marquee maxiums worth mentioning except the only clubs I like are sandwiches. I have no idea what that means, nor do I care.
• I still suck at poetry.
• would you rather use a well-rehearsed cliche’ or just tell the person to ‘shut the fuck up and mind their own business.’  Any guesses on my answer? Hint: italics
• Haven’t had any Mead recently.  Though I’m still told I need to drink more. Hard cider?  Maybe Vodka?

I decided to close with one of my daughter’s favorite songs.  Don’t let the title mislead, she IS way alright.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lLzDQNbhHYs

This couch potato therapy session is officially over.  Begin catharsis.

Aum … .

I AM done with January.  Let me rephrase that – I AM so fucking done with January.

Normally, I like the month.  I look at January as a low-key, low-stress month – a welcome break from the crazy months that proceeded.  A settling into winter with comfort food and even more comfortable … flannel? I was trying to think of some fun ‘comfort’ wordplay to go along with food, but couldn’t.  So I’m sticking with flannel.   Anyway, even though the month is 31 days long, it rarely seems burdensome.

Conversely, February was the month I often dreaded.  Yes, I love the thought of February – not because of Valentine’s Day.  Remember, it’s me.  I would never love February because of Valentine’s Day, okay? Think about it. February should be an easy month.  I mean, it IS only 28 days.  For some reason, though, it’s never easy. I’m not sure whether it’s the cold, the snow, or that damn Cupid.  But, the month drags.

Now since everything I’ve come to know and expect  for decades is out the proverbial  window, I am at a precipice – ready for what February has in store.  So, it better be … better than January.  I try to keep my expectations realistic. Oh, yeah, if that  Groundhog decides to fuck things up, one of Cupid’s arrows will make him rethink that shadow shit.

comfort … song

Time to talk shop – well, OTC pharmacy shop, that is.  Vitamin/mineral  supplements are sometimes a natural alternative to pharmaceutical preparations when preventing or treating physiological conditions.  Be warned – researching what you need for what you have then actually going out and getting it can be rather confusing.  Unfortunately, the manufacturers think  more is better.  Shit, just buying Tylenol is a pain in the ass because there are so many options OF THE SAME THING – tablets, capsules, caplets, liquid, chewables. It’s very overwhelming. However, one particular mineral is actually confusing because of its versatility not its duplicity of availability.

Magnesium

Magnesium is a mineral supplement used to prevent and treat low amounts of this natural occurring mineral in the blood. Magnesium is very important for the normal functioning of cells, nerves, muscles, bones, and the heart. Certain situations cause your body to lose magnesium faster than you can replace it from your diet. These situations include treatment with diuretics, a poor diet, alcoholism, or other medical malabsorption conditions.

http://www.globalhealingcenter.com/natural-health/types-of-magnesium/

Before I decided to pen this post, I asked an intern about the difference in magnesium preparations.  I’ve been out of school over twenty-seven years, I have no fucking clue.  She said that  the majority of  Magnesium products do the same thing – treat a deficiency of magnesium in the body.  If that’s all that is needed, purchase whatever product is on sale and call it a day. Medical professionals have their go to favorites for each disease state and sometimes it really does make a difference.

Magnesium Oxide (MgO):

MagOx 400 is a favorite if cardiologists used for patients that have compromised cardiovascular conditions that warrant supplementation.

Magnesium Citrate (‎C₆H₆MgO_7):

This form of magnesium is an osmotic – translation – it increases water in the intestines.  Even simpler terms – it’s for constipation.  And, the liquid formulation called Citrate of Magnesia is like Liquid Plumber, baby.  Within fifteen minutes you are cleaned out and will continue to be cleansed for some time after.  Caution – don’t leave the  bathroom.

Another, less invasive preparation, is Calm.  A powder that can be mixed with juice to relax the muscles and keep you regular if needed.  In no way will this ever replace Xanax, especially for those gay summer weddings, but it does … calm.

Magnesium Sulfate (MgSO4):

This is Epsom Salt.  Health benefits from either soaking your feet or taking a bath in Epsom salt, include: soothing muscle aches, treating sunburn, and removing splinters

the Periodic Table song

Back in July 2014, I posted   I dreamed a dream.  Below is a summary of my dream.  Though, I must say, the entire post is rather witty.  And, that was over two years ago  – kinda’ proud of that.

So, I’m in pharmacy school, plugging along, and wham I fail a class or something equally school/career altering happens that makes me re-evaluate my future/options.  Pharmacy school, like any professional degree, has classes that are sequential.  You have to pass Pharmaceutics I to go on the Pharmaceutics II.  Since the classes are only offered in specific semesters, the entire schooling tract revolves around the forward movement – passing each class.  You fail – your fucked.  In this dream, however, I never get passed the decision – I’m always faced with the decision or ,better yet, panicked by what little options exist. Often I wake up realizing I’ve had the dream, yet knowing  no resolution occurred.

Once again, my rambling  “… has nothing to do with the show  Les Miserables .  But … everything to do with  days gone by AND this hell I’m living – retail pharmacy, of course. ” 

As you may have guessed, I am still having the same damn dream; twenty-five years and counting.  However, not as often AND it has continued to change. Just not enough for me, okay. Situations and supporting characters appear, then disappear, over and over and over again.  Still, the fact remains – I fail and I am faced with the “what the fuck am I going to do now” scenario right before I awake.  One last tidbit of information that I didn’t include in the summary – I think about ‘change’, especially in my professional life, more now than I did back then.  Hm… .

In a recent conversation, I picked the brain of someone who might know something or another about dreams.  He stated that this dream is the ‘classic’  and most frequented dreamed dream.  And, regardless of my conscious efforts, there will never be resolution in my dream.  Before I could protest this unfortunate circumstance, he mentioned that there may be a way to creatively manipulate my dream.  By doing this, the new events may somehow offer a solution by shifting certain elements of the dream, changing the emphasis.  Then failure may not be the issue.  Hmm … .

Instead of it always being from my  protagonistic  point of view, I was instructed to use my conscious state to think about the dream from different perspectives.    Better yet,  personify the location. What would ‘the school’ say or how it would ‘react’?  Could the ‘supporting characters’ actually change the outcome if they were now the primary focus?  Hmmm ... .

Don’t worry, the hmm…  stops here.  I’m not that obsessive.  It really is only a dream.  Rarely do I have luxury of time to consciously think about such a trivial subject.  It’s tempting, though.  Very tempting.

Heart – These Dreams

Dream on!

INGREDIENTS

• 1 cup white self-rising cornmeal
• 1 egg
• Enough buttermilk to make batter very thin (about 1 cup)

PREPARATION  

First, I have never tried this recipe.  But it is from the be all, end all of cast iron skillet websites.  I’m thinking it’s probably pretty good.  Secondly, I still have yet to bake  in my skillet.  Though corn bread or some upside something or another would be my first choice.  That being said, I am very proud of my cast iron cookware.  Technically, this is my second skillet.  I had one decades ago.  I was young and stupid and, … long pause … I let it rust.  Gasp!  Martha Stewart would be appalled at my culinary negligence.  Believe it or not, I have matured.  Now, I treasure, if not pamper, my current cast iron skillet – a Father’s Day present to myself over five years ago.

M. Stewart seasons the skillet

advantages:

1. A well-seasoned cast iron skillet is naturally non-stick.  Cast iron pots and pans aren’t coated with synthetic materials
2. Cast iron cookware retains heat
3.  cook with cast iron pots and pans to boost your iron intake.
4. Because cast iron cookware is made from the same base material that builds engine blocks, they are guaranteed to last a very, very long time. In fact, the more you cook with it, the better (and more seasoned) it gets.
5. cheap – very cost effective

disadvantages:

1. heavy – only in 2017 would someone complain of such a thing.  Shut the fuck up, you culinary wannabe pansies. My grandmother weighed 92 pounds. She never complained about anything.  You go, grandma.
2. susceptible to rust  – isn’t everything.  (witty metaphor usage, eh?)
3. high maintenance – I have a wife,  two daughters, and work retail pharmacy.  Comparatively, nothing is high maintenance.

true story 

One night I came home from work and panicked.  I saw my cast iron skillet IN THE DRYING RACK  STILL WET.  My youngest daughter boasted that she had cooked some eggs and cleaned up the dishes USING SOAP.  Damn kids. How can you get mad at that?  I didn’t of course.  Instead, I remained calm, dried the skillet and immediately re-seasoned.  (dramatic sigh of relief).  By the way, she said nothing about it’s weight.  She’s thirteen.  You go, daughter.

A Tangled skillet

I figured this was an appropriate post.  It’s January.  Cooking and baking comfort food is pretty much all there is to do when it’s, like, below zero and snowing.  And, that Lodge website (under the recipe) is quite fun.  While you wait for it to load, a cartoon egg ‘cooks’ in a skillet.  Fun.

Order up!

stationarily at the gym.
healthily, healthily, healthily
you will always be … trim.

See, that’s why I leave the poetry to my mother.  Though, it’s much better than my original ending of  … you will always have flexible hips. That doesn’t  rhyme.  Furthermore, is  stationarily  even a word? Ugh! I think I’ll just stick with blog posting.

background:

I have bad hips, especially on my left side.  It’s a familial issue.  My younger sister had both hips done at age forty.  My younger brother has similar difficulties.  But, shit, I can barely tie my shoe some mornings.  And, it’s not a motor skills impairment, okay. Damn joint just won’t budge.  It really is bothersome.  So, I decided to take back my hips.  Actually, I’ve been working on it for the last few months, trying different exercises to see what route would be most beneficial.   And, the Black Concept 2 rowing machine seems to fit my lifestyle the best.

I have never been a stationary anything, especially the treadmill – so fucking boring as far as I’m concerned.  Physical Therapy can be quite expensive.   I have tried yoga – you know, that Bikram ‘hot’ yoga shit.  Well, that didn’t agree with my body either.  Besides, each session was a two hour commitment AND there were sweaty, half-naked people with open sores on their backs. Gross.  That’s a post in itself. Lastly, changing things up at the gym takes both time and creative energy.  I’m not that patient, considering I usually only have 39 to 43 minutes to workout.

One day, I overheard some dude bragging about the rowing machine. I tried it on my next visit and … .  I liked it.

Benefits:

• burns two to three times the amount of calories than Spinning,
• works 9 major muscle groups: quads, hamstrings, glutes, lats, core, shoulders, triceps, back and biceps.
• an amazing cardio workout.
•  great for injury prevention, rehab and runners
• low impact alternative to other activities.

sequence:

legs, hips, arms – arms, hips, legs     ( NOTE: if you reorganize this list, it DOESN’T work )

technique:

•  don’t grip too hard – the handle should travel in sync with your seat for the initial leg drive portion of the stroke.
• drive with your legs
• hinge at the  hips –  sit up tall, and wait
• focus on a consistent, steady movement – feel the flow as you row (that last part was all me – I should really abandon all attempts of rhyming. I think it’s best.)
• breathe properly – easier said than done.  Yet the key to, like, everything.

https://breakingmuscle.com/learn/17-tips-for-getting-better-at-rowing

afterthought:

Seems easy enough, eh? Umm, NO! This is hard work.  The next day I  just ache.  But, it’s a good ache.  Yes, I know I’m fifty-one. Believe me, even a twenty-five year old would ache.  Hopefully,  with patience, the end product will be achieved.  I will once again be able to tie my shoe.  Now if I could master that whole using a fork and spoon thing.  Hmm … .

Eminem rocks this video row

Let’s talk alcohol. Traverse City and the surrounding area ferment. distill, and hop at any chance to make drinks of the unmixed variety. (get it – hop – beer) Since I know very little about, well, anything, especially alcohol, I’ve decided to educate myself.  And, dedicate a post every so often to what I learn about spirited beverages and the intricacies that go into their production.  Chemistry and ‘recipes’ are involved.  I’m a pharmacist that cooks. I think I can handle this.  As for the blog, think Ode and MasterCard moment walk into the local tavern with  www.askadamthomasrph.com   as the bartender.  Really, it’s not that complicated. And, if it’s totally lame, I’ll do the whole Blogger’s Anonymous thing.  Okay?

So, … .  Let’s begin.

Here in Northern Michigan there are countless tap houses and tasting rooms that serve some of the best beer, hard cider, whiskey, wine and …

MEAD

noun: a fermented beverage made of water and honey, malt, and yeast.  Thought to be the oldest alcoholic beverage known to man.

The history of mead may go back more than 8,000 years. The oldest known meads were created on the Island of Crete. Wine had not yet been created. Mead was the drink of the Age of Gold, and the word for drunk in classical Greek remained “honey-intoxicated.

The tapestry of mead history is rich and wonderful. References are littered throughout history and literature. Chaucer speaks of making Claret sweeter with the addition of honey. In 1771 Smollett writes that knowledge of mead-making is considered one of the arts of a true country gentleman. Queen Elizabeth was known to have her own favorite recipe, including rosemary, bay leaves, sweet briar and thyme. But perhaps Howell, Clerk to the Privy Council, said it best in 1640 when he wrote, “The juice of bees, not Bacchus, here behold, Which British Bards were wont to quaff of old; The berries of the grape with Furies swell, But in the honey comb the Graces dwell.”

Internet sources: Merriam-Webster.com, beer100.com , skyriverbrewing.com

Mead: A Taste of Honey

Unlike life, this post has great timing.  New Years Eve is fast approaching.  To be perfectly honest, I’m not of fan of the holiday.  NYE is like a birthday – high expectation / low yield.   Even when there are no-expectation-whatsoever, that yield bar still takes a hit.  I blame women. Oh, and retail pharmacy customers, of course.  That’s when this whole mead thing will come in handy.  Alcohol makes everything better, right? I’ve never been a big drinker myself.  Though, I’ve recently been told I should think about drinking more.  Honey-intoxicated does sound interesting.    Hmmm … . Anyway, what better way to put this Random Nonsense to use than to drink mead, celebrating the New Year.

Because there is no better example of the expectation/yield concept, I will close with this ‘challenged’ couple in a ‘balanced’ movie clip.

Happy 2017

NYE with Harry and Sally

Oh, yeah, please drink responsibly.  I need all the followers I can get.

I’ve decided to continue with my postal imbalance.  What better way to do that than with the traditional list of ‘challenged’ Christmas Carols.  I’m  thinkin’ none  of these selections are suitable for ‘carpool karaoke’, though.  Oh well, be jolly!

1. Schizophrenia — Do You Hear What I Hear?
2. Multiple Personality Disorder — We Three Kings Disoriented Are
3. Dementia —I Think I’ll Be Home for Christmas
4. Narcissistic — Hark the Herald Angels Sing About Me
5. Manic — Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Buses and Trucks and Trees and . . .
6. Paranoid — Santa Claus is Coming to Town to Get Me
7. Borderline Personality Disorder — Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire
8. Personality Disorder — You Better Watch Out, I’m Gonna Cry, I’m Gonna Pout, Maybe I’ll Tell You Why
9. Attention Deficit Disorder — Silent Night, Holy OOOOOOOOh look at the Froggy, can I have chocolate, why is France so far away?
10. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder — Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bell …

Merry Christmas

time spent ‘talking’ to a Garmin representative regarding my Canada map ‘download’:     1 hour, 13 minutes AND 9 seconds

ONroute  service stops along Highway 401 and 402 Sarnia to Montreal:     23

number of stairs in hotel:     115 east stairwell and 142 west stairwell

‘comedic’ events that made this hockey weekend memorable:     countless 

Recently, the team headed to Toronto for a ‘TwoNations’ Hockey tournament.  It was quite the experience.  This was probably the truest of all MasterCard moments because I did, in fact, use my MasterCard for everything.  I didn’t want to be bothered with leftover Canadian money.  Besides, the exchange rate was ideal and there was no penalty.

I hate my new GPS. Of course, I purchased a model that did NOT come with Canadian maps.  Imagine that. When I attempted to return /exchange  the device, an employee convinced me otherwise.  He said that the maps could easily be uploaded for a ‘nominal’ charge from the website. It was neither easy nor nominal.  I hate that guy.  He was bald.  The last bald guy I listened to was a butcher who gave me ill advice about haircuts.  And, well, everyone knows how that ended.  This GPS fiasco wasn’t much better.  BUT, my MapQuest directions were printed.  I was able to keep on schedule.  I hate my new GPS.

Canada has this truck stop / rest area/ gas oasis thing goin’ down along Highway 401 and 402 – ONroute Canada.  Each stop has a variety of fast food establishments and gas stations in an easy off – easy on access to the expressway.  Works for me.

http://onroute.ca/

I utilize hotel fitness centers when travelling as much as possible. Especially when the surrounding area is questionable, the location undesirable, or the weather is frightful.  Fortunately, this hotel had a better than average facility AND nine floors.  Translation – buns of steel, baby.  Or should I say concrete? The reason for the discrepancy in stair count is because the west stairwell had roof and basement access.

Even though the girls didn’t fair too well in the tournament, they did enjoy themselves.  Hell, none of the Detroit teams advanced either.  I’m convinced  Canadian girls are born with skates already laced and hockey pucks for pacifiers.

About those countless comedic events – Yeah … .  Here are just a few.  In chronological order, of course –

• the garbage ‘basket’ in my car was annoying – we pitched it  in a neighbors trash can before we left the subdivision
• the Subway in Port Huron is totally sketch – the old man with the cane even sketchier
• there was a boarder crossing incident – why wouldn’t there be? I didn’t get searched, but … .
• Toronto drivers suck.  Canada has NO Rules for their Roads.  U-turns are acceptable – EVERYWHERE.  So, I fit in just fine.
• Toronto pedestrians suck, too.  They jay walk everywhere and anytime, frequenting the medians at night – DRESSED IN BLACK.  Even the joke – “How many points for that one?” got old.
• I unknowingly ‘crashed’ a corporate holiday party.  I was the only white male in the establishment.  Very awkward.
• Ironically, the girls had a great time.  The parents had the meltdowns.

And then I drove home.

Priceless