As my bad luck would have it, aspartame - the primary sweetener found in most diet sodas - is one of the most dangerous chemicals you can put into your body. Since it’s not a real food, and therefore the body has no nutritional need for it, every time you put it into your system, the organs are burdened with the task of having to filter it out. The more frequently you put it in, the less able the organs are to keep up with the filtration.
Eventually, the organs tire out (especially because they are already overburdened with getting rid of the air you breathe, pesticides you eat, lotions you use, etc.), leaving you with headaches, bad skin, a hormone problem, a thyroid problem, and a variety of other conditions. Then, to make matters worse, once the organs are in a burdened state, they are even less able to filter out the garbage you drink.
So, what happens when the organs can’t get rid of the toxins? They store them in the body – in the cells and tissues, leaving the body in a persistent toxic state. And a high level of toxicity in the cells is what leads to cancer, heart disease, autoimmune diseases, etc.
On top of that, when the liver actually pulls the aspartame back out of the cells for filtration (which will only happen once you stop bombarding it with more aspartame), it has to break it down into a bunch of separate chemicals first, including formaldehyde, a known toxin. And trust me - it’s not fun to have that crap swimming through your blood on its way out. It’s like having a hangover with the flu. But it’s better than having it live in your cells and kill you.
Needless to say, the news about diet soda was devastating. I suspected this would be the hardest breakup of my life. I was right.
In fact, I never realized how strong my addiction to diet soda was until I tried to give it up. Even today, when surrounded by ice cream, brownies, cake, freshly baked bread and gallons of alcohol, all I do is stare at the soda fountain.
Breaking Up With Diet Soda
When I was in college, I drank Dr. Pepper all the time. I loved it so much I would sing the company jingle on my way to class. So imagine my surprise when, during my Nutrition for Non-Science Majors class, I discovered that it had sugar in it. It was a pretty traumatic revelation, since I obviously didn’t want to be drinking my calories, especially when I could have been getting them from better places, like midnight Domino’s.
Anyway, that was enough for me to break up with the real deal and quickly move on to the diet version.
Although I did go through an adjustment period, within a few months diet soda (Coke, Pepsi, whatever) and I were best friends, attached at the hip, hanging out together at every meal, road trip and movie. I was committed, happy and calorie free. I even lost the freshmanthirty fifteen as a result.
But like a lot of relationships that eventually sour, I discovered that my mate had really been bad for me all along. Of course, my well meaning friends tried to tell me, but refill after refill, I didn’t listen.
As the years went on, my addiction to diet soda became unhealthy (funny to write today, now that I know even one diet soda is dangerous). My friends began to notice that I always had one in hand, and usually drank two or three with dinner. Caffeine began to have no effect on me. I could guzzle a can at night and be in full R.E.M. an hour later.
I had no idea how sick I really was.
When the healer discovered my diet soda habit (not hard since I walked in drinking one) he said: “That has artificial sweeteners in it – aspartame. I told you in the beginning that you couldn’t have artificial sweeteners.”
Oh…. that’s what he meant by artificial sweeteners. Aspartame, splenda, sucralose. Whoops – that was a major miscommunication (from me to my mouth).
Unwilling to go down without a fight, however, I began cross examining him on the details of aspartame. Although I had read numerous articles in various notable magazines about how diet soda can dehydrate you and possibly make you even hungrier, that was certainly not enough evidence for me to kick it to the curb overnight. I still was in need of serious proof that it was toxic.
I now regret ever asking.
Anyway, that was enough for me to break up with the real deal and quickly move on to the diet version.
Although I did go through an adjustment period, within a few months diet soda (Coke, Pepsi, whatever) and I were best friends, attached at the hip, hanging out together at every meal, road trip and movie. I was committed, happy and calorie free. I even lost the freshman
But like a lot of relationships that eventually sour, I discovered that my mate had really been bad for me all along. Of course, my well meaning friends tried to tell me, but refill after refill, I didn’t listen.
As the years went on, my addiction to diet soda became unhealthy (funny to write today, now that I know even one diet soda is dangerous). My friends began to notice that I always had one in hand, and usually drank two or three with dinner. Caffeine began to have no effect on me. I could guzzle a can at night and be in full R.E.M. an hour later.
I had no idea how sick I really was.
When the healer discovered my diet soda habit (not hard since I walked in drinking one) he said: “That has artificial sweeteners in it – aspartame. I told you in the beginning that you couldn’t have artificial sweeteners.”
Oh…. that’s what he meant by artificial sweeteners. Aspartame, splenda, sucralose. Whoops – that was a major miscommunication (from me to my mouth).
Unwilling to go down without a fight, however, I began cross examining him on the details of aspartame. Although I had read numerous articles in various notable magazines about how diet soda can dehydrate you and possibly make you even hungrier, that was certainly not enough evidence for me to kick it to the curb overnight. I still was in need of serious proof that it was toxic.
I now regret ever asking.
I Miss You, Wheat
After a few days without wheat, I had come to a few conclusions:
1) It's very hard to be off wheat and sugar, without being on either the South Beach Diet (unacceptable) or the Mexican-Lard-Ass-Diet.
2) Three days of straight Mexican food at every meal will actually not make you tired of Mexican food, but it will make you chubby.
3) A little bit of wheat shouldn't hurt, so long as the healer doesn't know about it, and the thyroid stays in check.
4) Six garlic parmesan twists and one small cheeze pizza from Round Table contain more than a little bit of wheat.
5) The healer eventually catches everything.
1) It's very hard to be off wheat and sugar, without being on either the South Beach Diet (unacceptable) or the Mexican-Lard-Ass-Diet.
2) Three days of straight Mexican food at every meal will actually not make you tired of Mexican food, but it will make you chubby.
3) A little bit of wheat shouldn't hurt, so long as the healer doesn't know about it, and the thyroid stays in check.
4) Six garlic parmesan twists and one small cheeze pizza from Round Table contain more than a little bit of wheat.
5) The healer eventually catches everything.
FREE BOOK: The Thyroid and Hormone Connection
One of my favorite authors on the topic of hormones has a book you can order at no charge. Here it is:
The Thyroid and Hormone Connection, by Dr. Hotze.
Enjoy!
The Thyroid and Hormone Connection, by Dr. Hotze.
Enjoy!
Don't Trust Your Thyroid Blood Tests
Once my thyroid kicked into gear, and I experienced an extreme improvement in health almost overnight, I became sort of curious about why my T3, T4 and TSH blood tests all came back normal only months before. I mean, it was pretty obvious I wasn’t clinically normal at the time, evidenced by the pounds of lard velcroed to my stomach and the obscene outbursts I’d been having all over Kaiser.
So I did some digging and uncovered a few hypotheses circulating around the internet and my hormone book collection.
First, thyroid blood statistics fluctuate dramatically during the day, and throughout the month of a woman’s cycle. A blood test on one random Wednesday could be completely different from the same blood test the following Tuesday. This is problematic for the women in immense suffering, but who catch the lab at the wrong time.
Second, the labs results apparently vary wildly from one lab to another, sometimes by as much as 50%. How’s that for confidence building?
Third, what’s “normal” for one woman may not necessarily be normal for another. If your normal number was a 1.1 at age 28, a 2.3 (although still clinically in the normal range) 4 years later would represent a significant decline in thyroid health, but nothing could (or would) be done for you.
Fourth, some doctors only measure the presence of thyroid hormones, but not necessarily how much of that hormone is free for absorption. In other words, some of the thyroid messengers are married already, not single. So they’re off the market. It’s only the single (free) ones we care about, because those are the only ones capable of binding with a new mate (the receptor) and spreading the message. Apparently, only about 2-5% of the thyroid messengers are “free.” If that specific number is low for a woman, but her overall number (of total messengers) is high, she will be labeled “normal,” despite clear signs indicating otherwise.
Finally, even if there are ample free thyroid hormones circulating throughout the body, it’s possible that the communication pathways are not effectively sending those hormones to the right places. On occasion, the receptor never gets the message. So the test will show normal numbers in terms of messages sent, but there’s no way to detect whether or not it was actually received.
I like having these explanations handy for when my annoying doctor friends laugh about my “thyroid problem.” The one the “quack doctor” diagnosed.
Again, I would tell them to “F” off, but because my new thyroid causes me to be unnecessarily carefree, I let it slide.
So I did some digging and uncovered a few hypotheses circulating around the internet and my hormone book collection.
First, thyroid blood statistics fluctuate dramatically during the day, and throughout the month of a woman’s cycle. A blood test on one random Wednesday could be completely different from the same blood test the following Tuesday. This is problematic for the women in immense suffering, but who catch the lab at the wrong time.
Second, the labs results apparently vary wildly from one lab to another, sometimes by as much as 50%. How’s that for confidence building?
Third, what’s “normal” for one woman may not necessarily be normal for another. If your normal number was a 1.1 at age 28, a 2.3 (although still clinically in the normal range) 4 years later would represent a significant decline in thyroid health, but nothing could (or would) be done for you.
Fourth, some doctors only measure the presence of thyroid hormones, but not necessarily how much of that hormone is free for absorption. In other words, some of the thyroid messengers are married already, not single. So they’re off the market. It’s only the single (free) ones we care about, because those are the only ones capable of binding with a new mate (the receptor) and spreading the message. Apparently, only about 2-5% of the thyroid messengers are “free.” If that specific number is low for a woman, but her overall number (of total messengers) is high, she will be labeled “normal,” despite clear signs indicating otherwise.
Finally, even if there are ample free thyroid hormones circulating throughout the body, it’s possible that the communication pathways are not effectively sending those hormones to the right places. On occasion, the receptor never gets the message. So the test will show normal numbers in terms of messages sent, but there’s no way to detect whether or not it was actually received.
I like having these explanations handy for when my annoying doctor friends laugh about my “thyroid problem.” The one the “quack doctor” diagnosed.
Again, I would tell them to “F” off, but because my new thyroid causes me to be unnecessarily carefree, I let it slide.
San Francisco "Girlcott" for Safer Beauty Alternatives
In honor of Earth Day, on April 18, moregreenmoms is hosting The Girlcott to build awareness about toxic chemicals in our cosmetics and personal care products. So what's a Girlcott? It's all about saying yes to safer alternatives, not just saying no to the bad stuff.
Come drop off your old shampoo, lotion, toothpaste, deodorant, nail polish, sunscreen and other cosmetics that contain suspect ingredients, then explore a fabulous selection of safer options.
Co-founder of the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics, and author of the book "Not Just a Pretty Face: The Ugly Side of the Beauty Industry," Stacy Malkan, will speak at the Girlcott at 1 p.m.
Please see The Girlcott Web site for more details.
Come drop off your old shampoo, lotion, toothpaste, deodorant, nail polish, sunscreen and other cosmetics that contain suspect ingredients, then explore a fabulous selection of safer options.
Co-founder of the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics, and author of the book "Not Just a Pretty Face: The Ugly Side of the Beauty Industry," Stacy Malkan, will speak at the Girlcott at 1 p.m.
Please see The Girlcott Web site for more details.
The Dangers of Dry Cleaning and Perchloroethylene
Just as I was basking in the glow of my health accomplishments, I spontaneously developed a very mysterious ailment – one swollen lymph node on the right side of my neck.
And by swollen, I mean swollen. Golf-ball-cancer-size-swollen. So, coming from a long line of Jewish hypocondriacs, I promptly flipped out and googled lymphoma.
By the next day, I had an appointment with my western medicine doctor who surmised in two minutes that I had an infected salivary gland and should take – drum roll please – antibiotics.
But he confessed that he really wasn’t totally sure about his diagnosis.
This Ouiji-Board style of reassurance was beginning to sound all too familiar. So instead of resigning to this assessment, I declined the poison and pressed the doc on how one acquires this mystery condition, possibly in the hopes of treating not just the symptom but the cause.
He told me I talk too much.
Touche.
So back to the healer I went – this time without the antibiotics. By this point, the node in my neck had gone back to normal (oh, not a salivary gland infection?) but the node in the back of my head was ballooning at warp speed.
Still, I was proud to report to the healer that I had been offered the forbidden fruit and declined. His reaction was one of near ecstasy, and I immediately felt like part of the club. So down I went for a few more tugs on the arm and contact with the chemical kit. The answer (after he hemmed, hawed and grilled me on my lifestyle) turned out to be my dry cleaning.
Of course.
So…here’s the deal with dry cleaning: It’s toxic. Most cleaners use perchloroethylene as their primary cleaning solvent, which is basically a carcinogen. It is currently classified as a pollutant in both air and water regulations, and its disposal is regulated as a hazardous waste (as in feces).
Funny how it never would have occurred to me that the chemicals used to clean my clothes were getting on my skin, because I naively thought the definition of clean was clean. But after the healer mentioned my dry cleaning, I knew it was the culprit. I have a lot of “dry-clean only” clothes, and happen to be pretty lazy when it comes to laundry.
The weird thing is that, when I was a lawyer, I worked on a case where the dumping of PERC by some dry cleaners poisoned the water supply in a nearby city, resulting (allegedly) in a cluster of cancer cases. The cluster was huge and the effects were devastating. But again, I never drew the link between that case, that chemical and my every day fashion.
Anyway, after that revelation, I did a search for solvent free dry cleaners in my area and found this one. I now drive almost seven miles to it three times a week to continue my habit. I pass by no less than six other dry cleaners on the way there. But I love it. They recycle hangers, give away free lint removers and have a big screen TV set to E! Entertainment fulltime.
Also, after this discovery (and my discussion of it with every stranger in the grocery store), I heard a rumor that all dry cleaners have to be chemical free by 2010, which would be cool.
Based on this article, however, that appears to be only partially true. Apparently it’s 2010 for most machines and completely by 2023 – but only in California.
Maybe they'll consider speeding up the ban so people don’t croak in the meantime.
Oh, as you might have guessed, the traveling swollen lymph node problem went away once I switched cleaners.
That healer should charge more.
And by swollen, I mean swollen. Golf-ball-cancer-size-swollen. So, coming from a long line of Jewish hypocondriacs, I promptly flipped out and googled lymphoma.
By the next day, I had an appointment with my western medicine doctor who surmised in two minutes that I had an infected salivary gland and should take – drum roll please – antibiotics.
But he confessed that he really wasn’t totally sure about his diagnosis.
This Ouiji-Board style of reassurance was beginning to sound all too familiar. So instead of resigning to this assessment, I declined the poison and pressed the doc on how one acquires this mystery condition, possibly in the hopes of treating not just the symptom but the cause.
He told me I talk too much.
Touche.
So back to the healer I went – this time without the antibiotics. By this point, the node in my neck had gone back to normal (oh, not a salivary gland infection?) but the node in the back of my head was ballooning at warp speed.
Still, I was proud to report to the healer that I had been offered the forbidden fruit and declined. His reaction was one of near ecstasy, and I immediately felt like part of the club. So down I went for a few more tugs on the arm and contact with the chemical kit. The answer (after he hemmed, hawed and grilled me on my lifestyle) turned out to be my dry cleaning.
Of course.
So…here’s the deal with dry cleaning: It’s toxic. Most cleaners use perchloroethylene as their primary cleaning solvent, which is basically a carcinogen. It is currently classified as a pollutant in both air and water regulations, and its disposal is regulated as a hazardous waste (as in feces).
Funny how it never would have occurred to me that the chemicals used to clean my clothes were getting on my skin, because I naively thought the definition of clean was clean. But after the healer mentioned my dry cleaning, I knew it was the culprit. I have a lot of “dry-clean only” clothes, and happen to be pretty lazy when it comes to laundry.
The weird thing is that, when I was a lawyer, I worked on a case where the dumping of PERC by some dry cleaners poisoned the water supply in a nearby city, resulting (allegedly) in a cluster of cancer cases. The cluster was huge and the effects were devastating. But again, I never drew the link between that case, that chemical and my every day fashion.
Anyway, after that revelation, I did a search for solvent free dry cleaners in my area and found this one. I now drive almost seven miles to it three times a week to continue my habit. I pass by no less than six other dry cleaners on the way there. But I love it. They recycle hangers, give away free lint removers and have a big screen TV set to E! Entertainment fulltime.
Also, after this discovery (and my discussion of it with every stranger in the grocery store), I heard a rumor that all dry cleaners have to be chemical free by 2010, which would be cool.
Based on this article, however, that appears to be only partially true. Apparently it’s 2010 for most machines and completely by 2023 – but only in California.
Maybe they'll consider speeding up the ban so people don’t croak in the meantime.
Oh, as you might have guessed, the traveling swollen lymph node problem went away once I switched cleaners.
That healer should charge more.
It's Not in Your Head - Thyroid
After about six weeks of seeing the healer, I could tell that my thyroid was finally heading in the right direction. My clothes were fitting better and my mood was improving dramatically. Of course, it’s entirely possible that the attitude adjustment was inversely related to the pounds, but I suspected it was something more. In fact, I hadn’t been that happy in years.
I found myself saying things like “Isn’t the weather amazing?” and “I totally understand where my parents are coming from.” My friends thought I was out of my mind.
I couldn’t believe that a few weeks of all-natural supplements and eliminating some foods could make such a big difference. But they did. And slowly, I became not just a follower of natural and eastern medicine, but a loudmouth evangelist as well.
I started telling family members what to eat, and encouraged my friends to get second opinions on their blood tests. I blew up the healer’s office with referrals, joined Facebook groups for "fans of pure cane sugar" and warned aimless Nordstrom shoppers about the dangers of their wrinkle creams.
I was unrecognizable.
One day, when I was researching local cooking classes for beginners, it occurred to me – all the years that I suffered off and on from depression, was that….a thyroid problem? One that could have been fixed without meds, therapy or side effects? And maybe in six weeks? The revelation was stunning.
I could have cried over it. But I was too happy for that.
I found myself saying things like “Isn’t the weather amazing?” and “I totally understand where my parents are coming from.” My friends thought I was out of my mind.
I couldn’t believe that a few weeks of all-natural supplements and eliminating some foods could make such a big difference. But they did. And slowly, I became not just a follower of natural and eastern medicine, but a loudmouth evangelist as well.
I started telling family members what to eat, and encouraged my friends to get second opinions on their blood tests. I blew up the healer’s office with referrals, joined Facebook groups for "fans of pure cane sugar" and warned aimless Nordstrom shoppers about the dangers of their wrinkle creams.
I was unrecognizable.
One day, when I was researching local cooking classes for beginners, it occurred to me – all the years that I suffered off and on from depression, was that….a thyroid problem? One that could have been fixed without meds, therapy or side effects? And maybe in six weeks? The revelation was stunning.
I could have cried over it. But I was too happy for that.
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