I don’t understand people sometimes. You know, there is a huge problem with our health care. When it comes to trauma we are the best in the world hands down. Doctors are doing incredible things in trauma; I think that God works through the hands of these amazing doctors. But when it comes to keeping us healthy the United States is thirty seventh on the list, thirty seventh. It’s not hard to see that this is true. We all know someone with some kind of health related issue. It’s really sad as a matter of fact.

You shouldn’t wait until you get a health issue to do something about it. That’s what I don’t understand about the majority of people today. It seems that the majority of people go to the doctor when they do not feel good then they get prescribed some drugs hoping it will make them feel better, then people don’t have that specific symptom any more but now they’re dealing with side effects from the drugs. Every drug is a toxin and every drug is a poison, and every drug has some kind of side effect. When you’re driving down the road and your oil light turns on, you don’t put a band aid over it and keep driving. You pull over and put oil in the car, which solves the problem. So why do people just take there pills and go on with life; isn’t there a better way. If you do not feel good, then you have something wrong and sorry to say but drugs do not take care of the problem, all they do is cover it up.

People know that nutrition is important. We have all known that for a long time. All nutrition is, feeding the body at a cellular level so that your body is working correctly and efficiently. If our bodies were working correctly then we wouldn’t have any health issues. See our bodies have an amazing ability to heal themselves. One of the main reasons that people are getting more and more sick is the quality of our foods have dramatically decreased. Due to green harvesting, depiction of minerals in the soil, also the toxins that can be found in the pesticides found on our fruits and vegetables. Also, the fruits and vegetables just do not have the nutrient value that they used to have. Green harvesting is a huge problem, in the last couple days of the ripening process the majority of the nutrients are put into the fruit. Don’t get me wrong you want to eat as many fruits and vegetable as you can. But in reality unless you buy organic food that is close to your home there is know way to get these essential nutrients.

Every body knows that there are allot of vitamins and minerals that we need. But recently scientists have found there are also other essential nutrients that we need. In the ripening process there are nutrients called glyconutrients. Scientists are finding that these are also essential to the human body. Glyconutrients support cellular communication, which is how you’re cells talk to each other to gather information from each other. Some information that gets communicated are things like if they’re damaged, or being attacked, or if they need to be fed. If your cells did not communicate then you would be six feet under.

The body does have the ability to make these glyconutrients, this is because they are so essential. But in order too make them it takes allot of energy, and in fact the body will rob itself in order to make them. So what are people doing about this dilemma, well now people are supplementing glyconutrients. With doing this they are giving the body what it needs to work correctly. Your body can heal itself from anything that’s wrong with it through proper nutrition. I know that I get into this a little too much but you know I think this world needs more people like me.

If you were at all interested in anything I had to say. I recommend on click the link below to get your limited time offer of the free e-book, The Ten Deadly Health Myths of the 21st Century.

To get your limited time offer for the free e-book The Ten Deadly Health Myths of the 21st century, Go to http://theoffer.myglycostore.com.

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Over the last 15 years there has been a cry to curb the costs of health care and from this cry has arisen the HMO or Health Maintenance Organization. This entity which is more common in the US has in the last 5 years also begun to creep into Canada.

The philosophy behind HMO’s is that efficient business practices can help curb health care costs and by doing so also improve the quality of healthcare.

Is this however actually happening?

Well let’s take a closer look.

Physicians who work in HMO’s are caught, in a manner of speaking, between a “rock and a hard place”.

That is they are caught between maintaining costs of providing services below a certain defined threshold while providing the top quality healthcare demanded by their patients. Their ability to achieve this feat ultimately becomes a measure of their performance and is reflected in their income.

In today’s litigious healthcare environment the cost of personal liability insurance has risen significantly across the profession in North America. Most of these costs are born by individual physicians.

As conventional medicine rarely attempts to uncover and treat the underlying causes of illness, rather it aims at symptom control, most patients are essentially placed “on ice” until their problem festers and re-erupts in some other more serious form. The patient then presents once again to the HMO physician who is once again faced with the task of “hiding” the problem.

Each time that “symptom management” is attempted more invasive and harmful treatments need to be employed. These treatments are also increasingly more expensive. Throughout this process the patient is under the delusion that because they are receiving such expensive treatment, supported by expensive and advanced technology, they are receiving top quality healthcare.

In fact this is far from the truth.

What is actually happening is that they are being made progressively more ill and their financial resources are being progressively being depleted.

It’s interesting that many individuals are awakening to the truth of what is going on and are beginning to take greater responsibility for their own health by educating themselves about prevention.

Prevention is about proper nutrition, regular exercise, awareness and avoidance of toxic chemicals (i.e. environmental, hygiene products, drugs, alcohol, caffeine, tobacco, EMF’s, etc.), regular and ongoing detoxification routines that cleanse the liver, use of therapeutic grade essential oils that boost immune system function, adequate supplementation with minerals & vitamins, regular de-stressing through approaches such as meditation, yoga, MRP, chi gong etc, and so on.

Many will say that they don’t have the time or money for such preventative approaches. Well in the long run I would say that it is actually a much cheaper and healthier approach than the conventional one. The only thing that is stopping you from adopting it is fear.

Nick Arrizza M.D. is trained in medicine and psychiatry. He is an international healer and coach as well as the developer of the powerful Mind Resonance Process(TM) MRP

YL Web Site: http://www.youngliving.org/arrizza
Personal Web Site: http://www.telecoaching4u.com

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My father was sitting on the sofa in his condo when I suddenly saw a look of fright fill his face. His eyes opened wide, and his face contorted. He started screaming, raising his arms to cover his face, and kicking his legs out in front of him. “HELP! HELP! GET AWAY!”

I sat there in shock, not knowing what was happening or what to do. Prior to this,
we were having a conversation and all was okay, except he thought I was his
mother, as if it were a day in his childhood.

I yelled back, “What’s happening?” He said monsters were coming through the walls.
I never saw someone so frightened. His body was in a fetal position, and he was
crying as if he were a child living out his worst nightmare. I jumped up without
thinking and grabbed the chair I was sitting on and began swinging it around. I tried
to force these invisible monsters out of his home, but to no avail.

I ran over to my father, grabbed his shaking body, and held him tightly in my arms. I
began talking to him as if I were his mother; mixing the words I somehow
remembered hearing in Yiddish and Hebrew when I was a boy. “Sha (Be quiet), Izzy.
Hineini (I’m here).”

“Make them go away, Mama,” my father pleaded like a child.

And that was what my father had become.

I was now the parent.

My father grew up in Brooklyn, New York, a Depression-era child, scared of the
world. My grandparents, immigrants from Rumania, spoke Yiddish, a combination of
German and English, and other Eastern European languages. My grandmother
passed away when I was a teenager, and I was now in my forties, but to my father I
was his mother at that moment. Where the words came from I don’t now, but after a
lifetime of listening to my parents speak Yiddish at the dinner table so my brothers
and I wouldn’t know what they were saying, and taking German for a few years in
high school to find out what they were saying, I had picked up a few words and
phrases.

I rocked my father in my arms and screamed at these intruders, “GENUG! (ENOUGH!)
GAI KOCKEN AHFEN YAM!” (GET OUT OF HERE!) until his crying subsided, which told
me the monsters were retreating. “Izzy,” I said. He opened his eyes and looked at
me. “Gornisht! (Nothing!) Farshtaist? (You understand?)” My father stopped shaking,
stopped crying, only now I was shaking and crying. No one wants anyone to suffer
such horrific fear.

But, my father had Alzheimer’s disease.

Suffering and torment was only the beginning of the nightmare.

While my father was still living, the stress it put on my mother was debilitating. She
did her best with him until her nerves got the best of her. I sent her to Houston for
two weeks to stay with my brother. I moved out of my own house, with the blessing
of my wife and children, and into my parents’ condo. As a writer, I was fortunate
enough to work my own schedule, so I spent all day with my father cooking meals
that his mother used to cook when he was a boy, hoping to make him feel more
secure. I purchased his favorite foods and treats, and I took walks around his condo
development, talking to him about the past and trying to bring the present into the
conversation. I never mentioned his disease to him. I find too many people talk to
Alzheimer’s victims as if they’re not there, and/or they try to correct the mistakes
they make. They are going to forget a few minutes later; however, those few
minutes of confusion fills them with terrible trepidation and guilt. The two weeks I
spent with my father, I was either his mother, or sister, and I played the role. I never
allowed him to feel uncomfortable or confused or angry with himself. You can’t
reverse the effects of Alzheimer’s disease, so the best a caregiver can do is to ‘go
with the flow’ and bask in the victim’s moments of happy reflection, or segue into
something that will make the victim’s mind switch gears from the torment of not
remembering.

Alzheimer’s disease comes in four stages. The first stage can go unnoticed for five
to ten years. The second stage is when the person knows he or she has the disease
and is angry at themself because they can’t remember what they are saying. The
third stage is when the afflicted no longer knows he or she has Alzheimer’s and it
no longer bothers them. This is the calm before the storm, the time some greater
force gives us to strengthen our resolve to withstand the onslaught of the end.
Alzheimer’s disease, depending on the person’s care and genetics can last from a
few years to 10-15 years in length, and sometimes longer.

My father finally got to the point where we couldn’t take care of him anymore. He
couldn’t dress himself, he didn’t want to eat, he couldn’t bathe, and he couldn’t
control his bodily functions. We had a family meeting. Because of the effect it was
having on my mother, my brothers and I decided it was time to place him in a home
where he would get better care. However, no one can take care of an Alzheimer’s
patient better than their loved ones in a familiar familial setting. Friends, aides,
church/synagogue members, and support groups will help out if you ask for that
help (that’s what your local Alzheimer’s chapter is for). It is not the time to be
proud.

We told my father he was going into the hospital (not a home, which scared him)
because he wasn’t eating and we needed to build up his strength so he could come
home. We told him that every time he said he wanted to leave with us. (Sometimes
you have to hide the truth to assuage their fears.) It was a sickly feeling walking
away from him that first time, leaving him in the company of strangers, some who
were so far gone that it was like an insane asylum for children. As I left, I turned and
looked at him sitting in a wheelchair, scared. I felt like I was abandoning him. He
looked as if he was being abandoned.

I never felt so guilty in my life.

My father got worse very quickly. He would walk into other peoples’ rooms and get
in their bed, thinking it was his room. He would sit in the cafeteria staring at his
food, not knowing what to do with it, until he wilted down from 180 pounds to 105.
He smiled whenever he saw us, but I don’t think he knew who we were. However, we
continued to visit him regularly, hoping he might have a second of remembrance
and happiness.

My father and I had a special relationship. I became what he always wanted to be. I
was in show business. At the opening night performance of my Broadway musical,
CANTERBURY TALES, I remember watching him stare at my name above the title, the
pride so evident on his face. When the show ended, I watched him stand with the
audience, applauding, tears streaming down his face. He thought I could do
anything. My father, although a brilliant artist all his life like his own father was, was
foremost a teacher in my eyes. He taught me to reach for the stars, to dream, and to
not give up; to be who I am, to be proud and confident, to seek solace with my
conscience, to revere wisdom and beauty, to hope and help others. I never
remember him voicing a negative comment, nor speaking a harsh word, nor
espousing a prejudicial epithet toward, or about, anyone or anything. There was a
preponderance of love in him, a love that was visible and shared with all he came
into contact.

Family was all-important, all encompassing to my father. He loved my mother
unconditionally, and his children and grandchildren passionately. He wasn’t a
religious man, nor was he a pious man. To him, humanity was his persuasion. To
live life with dignity, with compassion toward (wo)man and nature, and respect for
yourself, made my father a reverent man, a humanitarian, in our eyes.

Finally, after four years, my father’s kidneys failed and he was rushed to the
hospital. The family was called, and as we had a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order, we
went to the hospital to stay with him until he passed on. I remember my brothers
and sister-in law, and my wife and children, kiss him goodbye in the emergency
room. He was slipping into a coma, and it was heart-wrenching watching him leave
us. I was the last one to say goodbye. I took his hand, kissed his cheek, and
whispered in his ear how much I love him. I then said, “I just got my first novel
published.” To my shock, and happiness, he squeezed my hand slightly to let me
know he was proud of me.

It was the last memory my father took with him.

And it was beautiful for both of us.

Bruce Schwartz is a political activist and author of the #1 Amazon bestseller, THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY, the story of a nationwide terrorist attack, which ignites a race/class war seven days before the American presidential election. He has also written other novels, three children’s books, and six musicals. He is presently writing the screenplay for THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY, as well as a weekly TV dramedy. He has received numerous accolades for his writing. His site http://www.thetwentyfirstcentury.com is offering a 3-day, 2-night vacation to one of 90 destinations (no time share, no sales pitch of any kind) for buying a copy of this timely and topical novel. He will also autograph the book for you.

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