Unexpected Natural Remedies That Are Blowing My Mind, Part 2

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The Artist Formerly Known as “Chuck”

He’s Joined The “Dark Side”

When we last left our saga, my skeptical Jeep-driving, gun-toting, Wrangler jean-wearing, red-blooded American husband had donned colorful silk clothing, joined my essential oil cult and taken the name “River”. What happened?

When I brought my starter kit of Young Living Essential oils home, I told my husband he would henceforth be my guinea pig. He has enough ailments for me to get plenty of practice and really give these a college try.

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We decided to start with the knee, which has been through 4 arthroscopic surgeries, several bucking horses in the rodeo, and a life of general rough and tumble “real man” stuff. I applied the PanAway oil, which was suggested for joint pain, arthritis and muscle aches.

Most days my husband’s poor knees sound like machine gun fire when he stands up, and he describes his pain like a “headache in your knees”. It’s a constant, dull ache. He’s my weather forecaster; his joints know when the pressure is changing outside.

So we put about 2 drops on each knee, rubbed it in, and went back to watching “The Bachelor”. Ok, I went back to watching it, and he sat next to me and hated it the whole time. After 10 minutes, he stood up to try and escape  get a drink, and he turned and just stared at me.

“What”, I teased “are you afraid you’ll miss the Fantasy Suite? Don’t worry, I’ll fill you in.”

“No”, he bounced up and down. “My knees….don’t hurt. Really, I can still feel the grinding and popping, but the ache is gone.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I thought maybe he was just trying to make me feel better to get into his own “fantasy suite”.

“Seriously! I don’t know what the heck is in this stuff, but it feels better than the last cortisone shot I got”.

I was beyond pleased. That was quite a testimony for 10 minutes of being oiled up. The proof in the pudding would be what happened next. Maybe it was just like the “Ben-Gay effect” and the pain would come back in a few minutes.

That didn’t happen. We went to bed, and in the morning I asked cautiously about the knees, one eye closed.

“It still doesn’t hurt. That’s the easiest time I’ve had getting out of bed in months.”

My poor husband will sometimes wake up in excruciating pain from having slept with his knees in the wrong position. And inevitably, he looks like the tin man trying to straighten up in the morning. We were both now seriously impressed.

He went to work, and I could hardly wait for him to come back for the evening oil report. By about 6 that night, after being on his feet all day, the pain had started creeping back in a little bit.

We applied “the oil”, as we affectionately called it. Same result. Nearly instant pain relief. The more we’ve done this, the longer the effect has lasted. He can now go 2 days between oilings, and that seems to be where we’ll stay.

He actually said to me the other day: “Did you order ‘the oil’? I don’t ever want to be without it.” Um, ok River, I think the drum circle is missing your karma.

Essential Oils And the “C” Word?

After that first amazing week, I’ve gotten much more familiar with all of the 11 oils in my kit. I’ve done my research on their benefit, with particular interest in how they can be used in a cancer survivor’s prevention toolkit. The research is astonishing, both in volume and content. (I’m looking at you, my favorite Australian scientist) 🙂

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Check Out How Many Results There Are!

I’d like to share some of what I’ve learned with you in the coming posts. I’ll go over how essential oils work and how you can use them for common health concerns, including the “C” word.

So do I think the hubby can completely avoid the knee replacement staring him in the face? These are oils, not magic beans. But if we can keep him comfortable enough to enjoy life for a few more years, I say that’s worth the investment.

Here’s to you, River. I think I’ll call you by your Sioux name, Dances With Oils.

And We Close The Chapter on Tamoxifen…Farewell

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I know I’ve devoted a great deal of time and space these past few weeks to the agonizing decision of whether or not to take the hormone blocker Tamoxifen as the final piece of my breast cancer treatment. Frankly, I’m as tired of thinking about it as you are of reading it, so you’ll be glad to know that something happened yesterday that allowed me to put the subject to rest.

I was sitting at my kitchen table, browsing through some blog posts and dreading my afternoon oncology appointment with every bone in my body. I had already postponed the appointment for 2 weeks because I was not looking forward to being scolded about the Tamoxifen…again. Now, scold is a harsh word when it comes to my doctor. He is about as threatening as a teddy bear wrapped in velvet sitting on clouds.

No, I think I was really dreading….the look. You know the one. Like your favorite grandparent who catches you doing something wrong and doesn’t spank you. That would be too easy. Instead, they sit you down, their head hanging with the weight of their disappointment, and tell you that they never would have expected this of you…and it hurts them that you would do such a thing. By the end of the lecture, you feel like the lowest of the low, and you’ll do anything to get back in their good graces.

That’s how I felt after our last appointment. I came in ready to fight, ready to bring in research and statistics to back my argument. And I left in a haze of confusion and shame. I even went to the drugstore and filled the prescription. I couldn’t bear to let Dr. A down. He cares so much; it’s palpable.

So, back to yesterday. I hopped over to one of my absolute favorite blogs, chrisbeatcancer.com. He was diagnosed at 26 with Stage 3 colon cancer and refused chemo and radiation, choosing to heal himself through nutrition. He is now an eleven year survivor who lectures around the country and offers much of his wisdom for free on his site. I’ve visited many times before, but this video struck a chord in me for some reason.

I’ve been somewhat beaten down by the medical establishment over the past year, and I’ve started to compromise my core beliefs. Namely, The belief that our bodies are designed to express health, not sickness. Yes, there are genetic aberrations, environmental insults, etc. that challenge us, but this is not destiny. We can radically transform the terrain inside the body by the way we treat ourselves. Proper nutrition, sleep, stress management, and healthy relationships are essential to disease prevention.

Chris is a very articulate, warm person who expresses these ideals perfectly. I am in no way against doctors or medicine when it is necessary, but the whole “fear culture” surrounding cancer puts so much pressure on patients to “go with the flow” or face dire consequences. Take Tamoxifen, for example. In my case, the statistics show that I have a 12% reduction in recurrence over the next 10 years if I take the drug. The mortality reduction is about half that.

For these slight statistical improvements, I will endure hot flashes, night sweats, depression, fatigue, joint pains, weight gain, and the possibility of aggressive uterine cancer, blood clots, and cataracts, or worse. There are very, very few people who have pleasant tales to share about this drug. And the kicker is.. the research will show that Tamoxifen is not curing cancer, but rather putting it to sleep. And it almost always finds a way to get around this “trance” eventually.

So..yesterday I had what could almost be described as a revelation. I found my convictions once again and decided that my body is not suffering from a Tamoxifen deficiency. I plan to do a hard core re-examination of my life and change the things that need changing. I went in to the doctor’s office, ready to defend my decision once again. Dr. A must have seen the look of determination in my eyes. He asked if I was taking the Tamoxifen. When I explained why I wasn’t, he simply looked at me and said, “Ok.”

I think that in a way he knows he is asking a lot of women, but he feels that it is his duty to try. I wouldn’t be surprised if he even has a sliver of doubt about the standard treatment in his most private moments. As for me, the Tamoxifen train has left the station, and I’m at peace as I wave goodbye.

 

The Doctor Said “Eek!”

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I had my 3 month check-up with the oncologist this week. I’ve been dreading this appointment like a case of shingles for weeks. Why? Let’s see. Not only did I not start my Tamoxifen like a good girl in January, but I have been doing the polar opposite of what was recommended. I moved the appointment back 3 weeks to stall, in the guise of waiting for my BRCA genetic testing results (negative) to come back, but the truth is I would have told him anything to delay the inevitable. “I can’t come in right now because I’m recovering from ebola”, etc.

So, my oncologist has been in sweet denial for the past 3 months, thinking that I’m a compliant patient, resting comfortably at night with the knowledge that he is in charge. Let’s just say I burst that bubble with a pitchfork on Wednesday.

He walked in the room after knocking gently. He greeted me warmly and asked how I’d been. “Fine, really well”, I offered, almost sheepishly. I thought that maybe my fears had been unfounded, maybe he was just going to check in and leave it at that, assuming everything was going as planned. It wasn’t to be.

“Are you on Tamoxifen?” he asked as he sat down and flipped open my chart.

“Oh, crap, here we go!” I thought, the red heat of shame traveling steadily up my chest to my neck.

“No…I…decided not to take it.” There, it was out.

He looked at me for a minute, not quite sure how to respond. “What happened?”

“Well, I’ve done a ton of research and reading about it, and I don’t see anything good. I know four people who’ve had to quit taking it because they felt that they would rather live 2 years happy than live with the side effects.” I was scanning his face for a reaction.

“I see. So, did you even try it?”

I felt at this point that I had to offer up something to make my case seem stronger and more logical, so I began to spill the beans.

“Ok, Dr. A, I like you a lot and I respect you as a person, so I’m going to tell you something, but I’ll spare you all the details because I don’t want you to have a stroke.” His eyes widened and he sat back in his chair. “I’ve been seeing that integrative MD that I told you about.” He nodded. “We’ve been doing a little experimenting.” Deep breath. “He put me on some bioidentical testosterone and gave me Arimidex to keep it from turning to estrogen in my body. After 5 days on the Arimidex, I was in such a pit of depression that I stopped taking it. Now, that pretty much tells me how the lack of estrogen is going to affect me, no matter what drug we use.”

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Dr. A sat up straighter and looked in my eyes. “Eek!” I thought that probably wasn’t because he saw a mouse out of the corner of his eye. “First of all, I had no intention of putting you on Arimidex because that is for post-menopausal women. There is no guarantee at this point that you’ll stay that way. I’ve seen women older than you resume their cycles after chemo. We just don’t know how the aromatase inhibitors effect pre-menopausal ovaries.”

He went on. “So I don’t know why he would put you on Arimidex; well, I understand it biochemically, but it’s not the path I think is best for you. Second, I would feel a lot better about your decision if you had tried the Tamoxifen and told me that you hate it and absolutely can’t take it. Try it for 10 days or 2 weeks. But don’t assume that you know how it will affect you. If you tell me you absolutely won’t take it, then we’ll figure it out and monitor you more closely, but give it a shot.”

Uggghhh! Dammit, why does he have to always pull out the logic? I tried another tactic. “The side effects aren’t my only worry here. I honestly don’t think long-term estrogen deprivation is healthy. I think everyone forgets that estrogen does some good things, like protect your bones and keep your brain functioning, not to mention allow you to have sex without pain.”

I could see that he understood my dilemma and really did sympathize. He almost teared up as he said something about his mom having osteoporosis and how he worried about her falling. But, no dice. “I agree. And if you didn’t have this”, he pointed to my chart, “we’d be in a totally different discussion. But we have to weigh the risks in your case.” He got really quiet for a minute and I could see him trying to find a way to frame his next sentence delicately. “I don’t want to sound crude”, he went on, “but the long-term side effects of estrogen deprivation will be kind of a moot point if this comes back, and I feel like the window of opportunity for the Tamoxifen to work is closing.”

Ouch! After an hour of gentle prodding, he finally wore me down. “Ok, Dr. A. I’ll try it just because I like you.”

“Don’t do it for me. Do it for you. I’m your advocate here, and I want you to live a long time.”

So, here I am again, doubting my choices and in turmoil. Now tell me how good that is for healing. I almost want to fill the prescription so I won’t disappoint the doctor, with his big pleading puppy dog eyes. I have an appointment, meanwhile, with the hormone doctor next week, and boy do we have a lot to discuss! I think my bottom line for him is “If this were your wife, would you feel comfortable making these same recommendations?” Waivers and consent forms aside.

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But, I have made one decision. I am absolutely madly and deeply in love with my oncologist. I have never met a man with his combination of intelligence, honesty, and compassion. And I have never met a doctor who wears his heart on his sleeve. I’ve decided that we’ll leave our respective spouses and make a new life together once the boobs are complete. They’ll just have to understand that fate has stepped in. Phew! At least I’m sure about something:)

Playing Chicken With Cancer, Part 2

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There is one thing that those who know me well realize, and you will also come to realize if you stick around for a while. Time is a relative concept for me. When I say that I’ll post the rest of the story “tomorrow”, that means tomorrow”ish”. Just like my daughter’s school start time is 8:15″ish”. I was born with the procrastinator’s curse; it sometimes even annoys me. So here, without further ado, albeit a day or so late, is the rest of the story…

When we last met, I was sitting across the desk from the new integrative MD, soaking in his tons of advice to prevent breast cancer recurrence while simultaneously scanning his entire being for self-doubt or hesitation. I can’t help it; it’s what I do. I have to think that you know more than I do, or at least that you believe you do, before I’ll listen to one iota of what you’re telling me. As I related last time, I saw no chinks in his armor, and I was fairly impressed.

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One of my main purposes in making the appointment was to find out if it would be possible in any way, shape, or form to use bioidentical hormones to feel like more alive and womanly. Now, I have it better than many “menopausal” ladies, meaning that I sleep pretty well most nights, I only have a few, minor hot flashes, and my energy level is decent. If the only concern was hot flashes, I’d have this licked.

No, the nagging problem that makes me willing to put myself at great potential risk is a combination of apathy, mood swings, and an overall feeling that I may never be “happy” or fully functional again. I’m not miserable or suicidal; I’m just blah. Blah at work, blah in love, or on bad days, fighting with myself to keep from snapping at my kids. I’ve given up on the chiropractic office idea for now because it feels too overwhelming. I feel very withdrawn from the outside world. And I know from experience that all this is due to low estrogen. I’ve reacted badly to hormone fluctuations my whole life, and this is the mother of all roller coasters!

So, I’ve made the decision to go ahead with the hormones….

I was relieved to see that there was a prescription for hormone cream sitting prominently on the doctor’s desk when I walked in. I talked to him about Dr. Wright’s work, and he said that Dr. Wright was one of his biggest teachers. He told me that the key to hormones is balance and that without even testing me, he could tell me that mine, at this moment, “sucks”.

He said that menopausal women no longer make much estriol, estradiol, or progesterone. What they make from their fat cells is estrone, a potent form of estrogen. Without estriol and progesterone to balance it, it has the potential to cause cancer. So it is actually dangerous, from this perspective, to deny someone in my situation the opportunity to balance her hormones. Not a mainstream opinion, for sure, but one that has merit.

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When I got over my initial excitement about the hormone prescription, I saw one next to it for Arimidex, the ugly step-sister of Femara. I’m sure my jaw dropped as I thought “WTF!!??”. After all this expense and gut-wrenching doubt, he wants to put me on an estrogen blocker? I had to object. “I know several ladies who’ve taken this, and I really just don’t want to do it. The side effects are terrible. The joint pain, the brain fog, etc.”

He looked at me with a knowing smile. “The side effects are terrible because they have no estrogen. I’m going to give you estrogen, so I expect you to do fine.”

“Then why are you giving me Arimidex?”

“Because I don’t want you converting any estrogen to estrone. The aromatase inhibitors stop that conversion. So I want you to take the hormones for about a week and then start the Arimidex.”

Ok, well I sure didn’t see that one coming, and I’m not sure I like it. I already vetoed Tamoxifen, and here we go again. Maybe I can bring myself to take it if he’s telling the truth and I can sidestep the bad stuff.

In addition to the hormones, I got a lot of supplement and diet recommendations, B12 shots, and labs including a hair analysis test for heavy metals. I felt pretty good, like I finally had a plan.

And then I started the hormones. Not at all what I was expecting. Stay tuned for the riveting conclusion…

Playing Chicken With Cancer, Part 1

80’S CANCER JAM OF THE DAY:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

I’ve been reminded of this, my favorite poem, several times over the past few days as I wrestle with the decision of whether or not to take bioidentical hormones. I know, you’re thinking at this point that I’ve finally lost my mind. After all, I just finished treatment in December for a cancer that was 95% positive for both estrogen and progesterone receptors. Do I have a death wish?

Quite the contrary. I have a life wish, a desire for a full, vibrant life. For those who have been down the path of being suddenly and completely thrown into a premature hormonal black hole from the effects of chemotherapy, you can attest to the fact that it takes away something of your essence. You may not be a raving lunatic, but the light in your soul is dimmed.

Of course, some will fare better than others, but it nevertheless leaves you forever changed from the person you were before. Last June, I was a young woman with a regular (albeit overzealous) menstrual cycle; fertility was a stretch, but still within sight. Boom! In July, I was menopausal, my ovaries poisoned and relegated to the role of dusty internal decorations.

Now, if you are diagnosed with cancer in your 60’s, as most women are, hopefully you have been allowed to gracefully cross over the threshold of menopause, and perhaps some of the hormonal side effects of chemo are less pronounced. But at 45, or God forbid 30, like some of my blogging sisters, you are asked to live like a woman 20 or 30 years your senior and just be grateful to be alive at all.

To add insult to injury, the final step in breast cancer treatment is often Tamoxifen, Femara, or one of their ugly step-sisters. These drugs eliminate whatever poor, lonely molecule of estrogen that might remain in your body, trying desperately to hang on. The side effects of these drugs can include: joint pain (post-menopausal arthritis), mood swings, weight gain, cognitive impairment, depression, uterine cancer, osteoporosis, heart problems, etc. If you complain to your doctor, you’re likely to get a pat on the shoulder and a prescription for pain meds and anti-depressants.

I understand the thinking in the medical community that IF estrogen drives breast cancer, the best course of treatment is to eliminate the offending substance, thereby creating a “cure”. What puzzles me is that there are a few chinks in this hypothesis. First, the times in a woman’s life where she has the highest level of hormones, i.e. pregnancy and in her late teens/early 20’s, also happen to be the times with the lowest incidence of breast cancer. You are much more likely to be diagnosed in your 60’s or 70’s, when estrogen levels have been low for some time.

Also, I see all around me women on these blogs who have towed the party line, done the chemo, radiation, and estrogen-blocking drugs, only to see the cancer recur in a more aggressive, or metastatic form. Sometimes it works, sometimes not, which would lead me to believe that cancer is a multi-factorial disease which can’t be watered down to a simple “kill the estrogen” approach.

I wrote about the work of Dr. Jonathan Wright, the doctor for Suzanne Somers, in this post. Dr. Wright is the pioneer of bioidentical hormones in this country, and he has had Suzanne on them since her breast cancer diagnosis over 10 years ago. He believes that estrogen (in it’s natural form and when properly balanced) does not cause breast cancer and may help prevent it.

He uses a formula made of a small fraction of estradiol (the aggressive estrogen), and a large fraction of estriol (a weaker protective estrogen). He believes that the estriol acts as a sort of Tamoxifen, attaching to beta receptors on the cell, which actually discourages cell growth and proliferation. He then balances the formula with progesterone and other hormones as needed.

I’ve read his book, and it makes a lot of sense. But, being me, I feel more comfortable consulting with someone who is knowledgeable and respected in his field, so I had an appointment this week with an integrative MD. Yes, I’ve been down this road before, but the previous guy I saw, while a lovely person, didn’t project the confidence that I need to see in such a serious matter. I don’t mean this to sound arrogant, but most of the time I leave a doctor’s office feeling like I know more than he does about nutrition, supplements, and the relevant research that’s out there. I want to be wowed.

I spent 3 hours at the new doctor’s office on Tuesday. Good start. For the first hour, I sat with the nurse as she took a detailed history and listened to my issues. She then gave the doc a synopsis while I had vitals taken. The next hour was spent with the doctor, going over his thoughts on my case and his recommendations. He told me right off the bat that he is not an oncologist and he wants me to be monitored by my own doctor. He also said that while he is an MD, he would be offering things that no mainstream doctor is willing to do, often at the risk of being attacked by the medical board.

I appreciated his honesty and his willingness to step “out of line” in spite of the repercussions. It was clear that he must have tangled with oncologists before, as he included in my packet a “Dear Medical Oncologist” letter that he had written in response to an angry doctor who challenged his use of hormones in a breast cancer patient.

He wasn’t the kind of warm and fuzzy that I prefer, and I actually put off going to him because I had heard that he is very arrogant. In truth, he is not so much arrogant as confident and efficient. He stared at me intently as he laid out his plans in a no-nonsense fashion. I scanned his eyes for signs of hesitation or self-doubt as he spoke. I saw none. I asked tough questions. He answered them, sometimes in a surprising way.

So what did the doctor suggest as the next move in this high-stakes chess game? Stay tuned tomorrow for the results of my visit and my decision.

Would You Rather Be Shot Or Jump Off A Cliff?

80’S CANCER JAM OF THE DAY:

Go ahead. Take a couple weeks before you give us your decision. It can wait until after the holidays. Now keep in mind that 2 out of 10 women actually survive being shot, while the whole cliff thing is really sketchy…not much good going on there. But…and this is a big but…being shot can lead to all sorts of complications, depending on where you choose to take the bullet. So you may just wish you were dead.

This is something like the conversation I had last week with my oncologist, slightly paraphrased of course. Yes, I’ve finished radiation and been issued my platinum invitation to board the Tamoxifen train. Toot! Toot! He actually turned to me at one point and said “Have you done any research about Tamoxifen?” I just looked at him with wide eyes and replied “Really?”. He quickly realized what a foolish question that was and chuckled softly. “Oh yes, what was I thinking? Go ahead, tell me what you found.”

Of course I had been feverishly burning up the internet for days trying to tease out minute details about survival and recurrence statistics from mountains of muddled data. And let me tell you, they make it next to impossible to find “the bottom line”, which in my book is the absolute survival advantage in those who take this drug. I don’t care about relative risk or any other statistical shenanigans that pass for science. I was finally able to get a 10-year absolute survival difference of 10.9%, meaning that of 100 women, 11 more will be alive in 10 years if they take Tamoxifen than if they don’t.

I told the oncologist about this, and he agreed, saying that the odds might be slightly better for someone my age with my cancer, perhaps 12-15% greater survival. I’m not sure where he gets those numbers, as I was unable to find them. However, I also told him that I had serious concerns about the potential side effects of the drug versus the benefit. Common side effects include: hot flashes and night sweats, mood swings, depression, joint aches, cognitive difficulties (such as forgetting words), weight gain and headaches. Rarer side effects include blood clots, stroke, and uterine cancer.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I am just not dying to get on this train. First of all, I am deeply mistrustful of drug studies. I’ve taken enough research courses to know that data can be manipulated to say just about anything. I also know that the FDA does not require these companies to submit data showing adverse outcomes or data which doesn’t support the benefit of the drug. You only have to look at the long list of drugs which have been approved and later pulled from the market due to serious, often fatal events, or lack of efficacy to realize that you can’t always count on the “peer-reviewed research”.

Those concerns aside, I am feeling healthy for the first time in a year. I ran 8 miles last week. My color is good, and my hair now looks like a cute, short style instead of a chemo-ravaged patchwork quilt. I don’t want to be sad and have achy joints. I don’t want to be fat and wringing wet every morning. It feels very unnatural to take a body that is on the mend and feed it a drug that wreaks such havoc. The doctor said we will deal with whatever side effects come up, meaning he can give me different pills to add to the first pill.

I think the photo below shows a much better idea of what can be done with Tamoxifen bottles and a little creativity. I have to give credit to “The Sarcastic Boob” at http://thesarcasticboob.com/2012/08/16/ten-things-to-do-with-tamoxifen/ for this hilarious post.

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All kidding aside, I truly believe in the ability of the body to heal if given the chance. I’m not against medical intervention when necessary, but I don’t think it’s natural to have zero estrogen, which will be the effect of the Tamoxifen. I understand that my tumor was fed by estrogen, but I’m not sure if it was that simple. Cancer is a very complicated, multifactorial disease. My fear is that the cancer will outsmart all of these outside interventions and come back more ruthless than ever. I expressed this to the oncologist, and he had to agree that if we use Tamoxifen and the cancer metastasizes anyway, it will likely be very aggressive and difficult to treat.

So…here I am again, at the edge of the cliff with a 9 millimeter in one hand. I think I may just lay the gun down and back away slowly. You’ll be the first to know.

 

Why All Your Kids and Possibly Your Pets Should Take Statins

So as I was sucking down a plate of fatback with brown lard gravy and a side of butter pudding, I came across the new cardiac risk guidelines fresh off the press from the American Heart Association.

It seems that the “know your number” cholesterol campaign is sooo last year. The new and improved tool coming to a doctor’s office near you is the “cardiac risk calculator” which takes into account your age, sex, weight and whether or not you are a diabetic, a smoker, etc.

These factors, along with your cholesterol numbers, can be plugged into a magic calculator (donated by a Pfizer rep) which will spit out your “future cardiac risk”.  The new fashionable number is..ta da…7.5%.  Above that number? It will be a statin drug in your Christmas stocking this year, regardless of whether you currently have any symptoms of a heart problem or any health problem at all.

To this point, statins such as Lipitor have been the top-selling drugs of all time, with annual sales of $26 billion. One quarter of all adults in America are prescribed statin drugs. With the new guidelines coming out, it is estimated that this figure will jump to 44% of men and 22% of women.  And let’s not leave the kids out. In 2011, Pfizer came out with a chewable version of Lipitor so it could be prescribed to children. Coincidentally, this was right before the original patent expired. New product = new patent.

“Ok”, you’re thinking, “but if the statin drug lowers my cholesterol and prevents a heart attack, what’s the problem?”

In the next installment, I’ll tell you why statin drugs will ruin your health and how you can lower your risk of heart disease without drugs.

P.S. Watch the video. It’s very funny:)