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Susan G. Komen foundation- imbeciles or whores?

Posted by familyal on May 18, 2010 in Health Care, critical consumption

Oh, is that title too harsh? Well, you be the judge. Here’s the situation: fats & meat heated to deep frying temps are chemically altered. And you know what? The more you eat of these little fried meaties, the greater your chances of getting cancer. All kinds of cancer. Let me say that again: The more deep fried meats you eat, the more likely you are to get cancer.

Which is why I am flabbergasted to the point of boggley-eyed speechlessness to read that the Susan G. Komen foundation – the ones who’ve make those damned pink ribbon loops ubiquitous  – made a partnership with KFC for this month of May. KFC would put their deeeeelicious & humanely raised chicken parts in pink buckets (oh, how entirely clever!) & for each bucket sold, a generous 4 bits will be donated to the pink ribbon people. The site says, “The lids of these special pink buckets will have a call to action to get involved. Names of breast cancer survivors and those who have lost their battle with breast cancer will be listed on the sides of the bucket.”

Sooooo…..let me see if I follow this. Money is needed to cure cancer. To get the money we should eat foods that cause cancer. And if I don’t buy this food that makes me more likely to get cancer, then I’m condemning others to cancer because I’m keeping them from getting the pink bucket money, which will help them, but I’ll feel bad so….I lost it. Has the world gone crazy or am I just jacked on caffeine to the point of dementia?

There’s a great article here in which writer John Robbins makes many good points, such as, “the American Institute for Cancer Research reports that 60 to 70 percent of all cancers can be prevented with lifestyle changes. Their number one dietary recommendation is to: “Choose predominantly plant-based diets rich in a variety of vegetables and fruits, legumes and minimally processed starchy staple foods.” Does that sound like pink buckets of fried chicken?”

Indeed. Go to the KFC site & the first thing you’ll see is some animation of their much derided double down sandwich. You know, the one with chicken for the bun. Click on the pink bucket & the raucous music will cease instantly, to be replaced by plaintive piano music evocative of the hospital scene at the end of a movie. “The largest single donation ever,” says the headline. Well, that’s misleading. Tens of thousands of people must eat this chicken to make that donation exist. There is a bucket you can spin to read some very sad stories. It’s all touching, & presented so sweetly & smoothly.

Most everyone I know has a standing boycott on KFC. It’s automatic. The food is of a dreadful quality & makes you feel sick when you eat it, & their brutal handling of their chickens, documented here, is legend.

If you want to help find a cure for breast cancer, find someplace to put your money other than the Susan G. Komen people. They are asking you to ruin your health for their own ends. This is sociopathic. Or maybe you think they just haven’t put 2 & 2 together. Is that any better? They are supposed to be a foundation of cancer researchers. What’s worse- that they’re using you or that they’re stupid? Either way, is that the best place to put your hard earned bucks?

 
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The boy is upright & walking, so everything must be fine.

Posted by familyal on Nov 4, 2009 in Health Care, Parents & kids, critical consumption, knowledge is power

I am just back from 9-year-old son’s yearly physical. And I am displeased. Displeased! GAH!!! Hey! Here’s an idea for how to overhaul the medical system. How about we get to pay what we think it’s worth?

We go to Group Health in Seattle. I suppose it was a radical & wonderful thing when it started but I fear they have become mired in bureaucracy. “They’ve become a machine,” my husband says.

Got there & some woman (she may have been an assistant, she may have been a nurse. I never found out, since she never saw fit to tell me) came out & called Reid to come down the hall, go into a room, & take his shoes off. While she went thru the weight height list I kept waiting for her to introduce herself or MAKE EYE CONTACT, for god’s sake but apparently common courtesies & basic manners aren’t covered in our plan.

She said Reid’s right eye wasn’t seeing well & that I would want to make an appt with optometry. “He saw someone last week,” I said. “Isn’t that on the computer? I thought that was one advantage of being in the same system.” No response. Eventually we saw the doctor. He was nice enough. But what a cursory exam.

I’m thinking about how our understanding of how our bodies & minds work is expanding constantly. And one thing we’ve figured out is that there are MANY factors to health: what we eat, how much we eat, the quality of the air we breath, our daily stress level, how much we exercise, drugs or medicines we take, allergens around us, & that’s just a bit of the list. This would have been an ideal time to ask me about what I feed my child, & does he exercise, is he sleeping well & how much does he sleep, how much tv does he watch? But these things were not discussed. Does he eat a lot of sugar? Didn’t come up. Reid splits his time between my house & his dad’s house, which is surely a factor, but they don’t know about it because they didn’t ask the most basic questions about his living situation. And they made him undress & put on one of those lame robes, which by the way was an adult size so he couldn’t even tie it on reasonably. I expected the doctor to have him stand up & turn around so his skin & posture could be observed. I think this is quite reasonable. What if I’m practicing my tattooing on Reid? What if I’m abusing him by burning little patterns into his skin with match heads? If I were that kind of parent I would surely have threatened him not to mention anything. Or what if he has some kind of weird blot that is skin cancer only I’m too clueless to ask about it?

I don’t expect them to run a cat scan or bloodwork on a child that is to all appearances bright, alert, & healthy. But a few words on what’s currently considered a healthy diet, a quick glance with trained eyes at the skin & posture of a child…these things don’t require any flavor of test, any kind of special equipment, except, of course, an active mind & some semblance of professional interest.

We left with our little sheet of paper placing Reid in his percentiles. As if I care. His next visit is recommended in 3 years. The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends every 2 years at this age, but I suppose that isn’t covered on our plan.

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