A Wonder Drug

Few drugs can seriously lay claim to the title of ‘Wonder drug.

 

Penicillin and aspirin being two that have perhaps had the greatest beneficial impact on the health and well being of Mankind. 

 

But Ivermectin can also be considered alongside those worthy contenders, based on its versatility, safety, and the beneficial impact that it has had, and continues to have, worldwide—especially on hundreds of millions of the world’s poorest people.

 

Yet, Ivermectin has become a no-no word on specific media sites.  

 

Ivermectin.

 

Have you heard of it?

 

Have you heard of it as a treatment for Covid19?

 

When the pandemic first began, my doctor gave me a prescription for Ivermectin.
At the time, I didn’t know what it was. She said she didn’t want me to die a horrible death, kind soul that she was.

 

I fulfilled one prescription and had two refills left. Recently the doctor told me to have the RX filled before they cut it off.

 

Well, sure enough, they did.

 

Yesterday I tried to fill my Ivermectin prescription and was rejected.

 

Don’t you hate it when that happens?

 

That riled me. 

 

Who ordered the stop-sale of food-grade, compounded for people, Ivermectin?

 

Those little white pills have been censored, as well as some sites suggesting them as a treatment for Covid19.

 

Will I be shut off?

 

We’ll see. 

 

I’m just a little blogger crying in the wilderness. I may not be detected, but then those bots can find about anything.

 

 

Ivermectin is a cheap drug. It has been around for 40 years and is used extensively. 

 

It is approved by the FDA as an antiparasitic treatment, but unfortunately, it has not yet been approved to treat viruses.

 

It is, however, considered antiviral.  I know of one couple who caught the Delta variant, were treated with Ivermectin, and are now fully recovered.

 

“Last week, Joe Rogan revealed he had tested positive for the virus and claimed to have gotten better after taking a Z-Pak antibiotic, prednisolone, and ivermectin.”

 

Rogan fell ill with Covid-19 just over a week ago, recovered, and tested negative within three days. He attributed his speedy recovery to “[throwing] the kitchen sink at it” and taking a cocktail of medications, including Ivermectin, monoclonal antibodies, azithromycin, and intravenous NAD. (Also, intravenous Vit C.)

 

He is now fully recovered.

 

Rogan says if people say he was taking Horse paste, they are making that shit up. He was taking Ivermectin under a doctor’s supervision. 

 

Somehow a news report came out that people have been hospitalized for taking Ivermectin Horse Paste. (A cheap way to get it.)

 

Any stupid idiot ought to know that you take medicine dosage according to body weight. You are not a 1500-pound horse. 

 

Apparently, those stories about people over-dozing themselves have not been verified.

 

It did, however, give power for the restriction of Ivermectin.

 

So what if we poison ourselves? It is our business, our lives, our risk. The media keeps screaming at us about how dangerous it is out there. Can you blame people for wanting to protect themselves? Ivermectin has been used on so many people worldwide that it is considered safe, safe safe.

 

So what if it clears out parasites. Big deal.

 

What if it clears out viruses as well. Bigger deal.

 

Some studies involving Ivermectin showed promising early results in preventing the SARS-CoV-2 virus from replicating in cell cultures, prompting widespread use of the human formulation of the drug throughout Latin America.

 

I checked online a month or so ago and could purchase 4 tablets of Ivermectin for the price I had paid to buy 20. I checked today, and you can still purchase Ivermectin online, although it is expensive. 

 

Something is fishy here.

 

Dare I say CONTROL?

 

Ivermectin was discovered in 1975 and used medically in 1981.

 

In 2015: The Nobel Assembly at Karolinska Institute has today decided to award the 2015 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine with one half jointly to

William C. Campbell and Satoshi Ōmura

for their discoveries concerning a novel therapy against infections caused by roundworm parasites and the other half to

You Tu

for her discoveries concerning a novel therapy against Malaria.

 

 

Although people have searched for another source of the microorganism that creates the Ivermectin, so far, it is found only in Japanese soil.

 

It has been used for veterinary purposes for years. I wonder what the farmers will do if they raise the price. I used the Ivermectin horse paste on my horses for years. It is recommended for use regularly for horses because as they graze, they pick up eggs from the soil, and thru can become infected with parasites. 

 

 

De-worming a horse--It really wasn’t that bad.

 

For humans, I have heard that if Ivermectin is taken on an empty stomach, it will kill any parasites you have dwelling in your intestines. Taken with oil, it is an antiviral. 

 

This information caused people to rush out and purchase Ivermectin. However, because it is not FDA approved for the treatment of viruses, its sale has been halted—at least at my pharmacy.

 

(I checked online, and you can still purchase it there. However, it is expensive.)

 

They need clinicals, they say. 

 

Well, let the people take it, and you will have your clinical. (Yeah, I hear screaming. Clinical must be done in a controlled environment.) 

 

 

Abstract

Discovered in the late-1970s, the pioneering drug ivermectin, a dihydro derivative of avermectin—originating solely from a single microorganism isolated at the Kitasato Institute, Tokyo, Japan, from Japanese soil—has had an immeasurably beneficial impact in improving the lives and welfare of billions of people throughout the world. Originally introduced as a veterinary drug, it kills a wide range of internal and external parasites in commercial livestock and companion animals. It was quickly discovered to be ideal in combating two of the world’s most devastating and disfiguring diseases, which have plagued the world’s poor throughout the tropics for centuries. It is now being used free-of-charge as the sole tool in campaigns to eliminate both diseases globally. It has also been used to successfully overcome several other human diseases, and new uses are continually being found. This paper looks in depth at the events surrounding Ivermectin’s passage from being a huge success in Animal Health into its widespread use in humans. This development has led many to describe it as a “wonder” drug.

 

A Wonder Drug?

 

“The ‘Blockbuster’ drug in the Animal Health sector, meaning that it achieved annual sales over US$1 billion, maintained that status for over 20 years. It is so useful and adaptable that it is also being used off-label, sometimes illegally, for example, to treat fish lice in the aquaculture industry, where it can harm non-target organisms. It also has extensive uses in agriculture.2)”

 

 

Last Updated: February 11, 2021

Ivermectin is a Food and Drug Administration (FDA)-approved antiparasitic drug. It is used to treat several neglected tropical diseases, including onchocerciasis, helminthiases, and scabies.1 It is also being evaluated for its potential to reduce malaria transmission by killing mosquitoes that feed on treated humans and livestock.2 For these indications, Ivermectin has been widely used and is generally well tolerated.1,3 Ivermectin is not approved by the FDA for the treatment of any viral infection.

 

Ivermectin is FDA-approved as an antiparasitic agent.

 

Not as antiviral.

 

Time will tell.

 

I just put Vaseline on my lips. I wonder who in the world would ever suggest putting a petroleum  bi-product on our skin?

 

Maybe What We Need Now is A Course in Miracles.

 Tuesdays with Jo

All through Greece and Italy, my 13-year-old daughter kept saying, “I could be in A Course of Miracles.” (Never take a teenager traveling.)

I’m not going to say how many years ago that was. However, I will say that now my daughter is the finest traveling companion I could ever wish for. However, she was young then and had a boyfriend at A Course in Miracles meeting. (A little motivation there.)

A book titled A Course in Miracles was the rage then, and we were going to a weekly meeting by the same name. Mainly it was a sharing of what miracle we had that week. We would draw from the cards that accompany the book and read it to the group. We used those cards as an oracle. It was fun and a gathering of like-minded souls. We laughed a lot and got a lot of hugs, and it was a fun time.

Strange that I didn’t know who wrote A Course in Miracles.  the word around was that Marianne Williamson wrote it, but she didn’t, although she was strongly associated with it. I guess she was promoting it. And people said the writings in A Course in Miracles was “channeled.” 

The funny thing is it was written by two arguing Professors whose boss told them to get their act together. 

They were Helen Schucman and William Thetford, Professors of Medical Psychology at Columbia University’s College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York.

Our copy of Miracles must have ended up at Good Will along with a stack of other books. You know how some things are pertinent in our lives, and then for whatever reason, they melt away. Maybe we’re fickle or looking for the next great thing to give us either an adrenaline jolt or a new perspective.

Helen Schucman, one of the authors, wrote this about herself:

 “Psychologist, educator, conservative in theory and atheistic in belief, I was working in a prestigious and highly academic setting. And then something happened that triggered a chain of events I could never have predicted. The head of my department unexpectedly announced that he was tired of the angry and aggressive feelings our attitudes reflected, and concluded that “there must be another way.” As if on cue, I agreed to help him find it. Apparently, this Course is the other way.”

This morning I received an email from Steven Pressfield (The War of Art) who said he had the book, A Course in Miracles in his library. It isn’t an easy book to read, Pressfield said, but it’s one we should have on our shelves to pick up on occasion.

Hey, it was written by Psychology professors—that should tell us something. But, wow, the hit that woman got. It shows what can happen when a person is determined. Reading it, one would think it came from a Christian perspective, but it was intended to be non sectarian and is considered to be a universal spiritual teaching.

Maybe I need it on my shelf again. No, actually, I need it in my heart and soul. Perhaps it’s what the world needs right now, A Course in Miracles.

 The first entry in the book:

1. This is a course in miracles. ²It is a required course. ³Only the time you take it is voluntary. ⁴Free will does not mean that you can establish the curriculum. ⁵It means only that you can elect what you want to take at a given time. ⁶The course does not aim at teaching the meaning of love, for that is beyond what can be taught. ⁷It does aim, however, at removing the blocks to the awareness of love’s presence, which is your natural inheritance. ⁸The opposite of love is fear, but what is all-encompassing can have no opposite. (ACIM, T-in.1:1-8)

I remember one Course in Miracles card: “Live forever, you holy son of God.” 

It sounded like you were swearing at the person when actually you were blessing them. I used to tell my dog Jewel that. 

If you’re interested in learning more or reading any part of the book, it is available for free at https://acim.org

I just bought a used copy.

Don't Drain the Well

 Tuesdays with Jo

When I was under 6 years old a Hobo—as we called them in those days—came to our back door asking if we could spare any food. Without hesitation, my grandmother fixed a plate of food for him.

My folks said that men would ride the rails, and when the train stopped in our little town on Mt. Vernon, Ill., they would sometimes hop off, find a bite to eat, and move on. I’m sure my grandmother knew of people facing hard times. It was no disgrace or dishonor, and if someone showed up hungry, you fed them.

I don’t know if the man had stopped at other houses before ours. We had a simple house, we weren’t poor, but we weren’t rich either, rather like the neighborhood, I suppose. My grandmother was widowed, had been since my mother was 12.  My father was in the war, my mother worked. We lived with no running water. We had a well in the backyard, the sort that was open on the top. The trick was to throw a bucket into the hole and draw up the water. I think there was a pump in the kitchen, so maybe we had a holding tank. We had an outhouse, electricity, and a furnace.

My Grandmother was an excellent cook. My stepdad said she made the best fried chicken, and I say she canned the best-pickled crabapples and mouth-watering dill pickles. Big ones, like you see at fairs, but her’s were better.

Except for the war hanging over our head–and I learned that war was the very worst thing that could happen. It surprises me that some people don’t necessarily feel that way, but I was young and innocent of the horrors I later learned and ran wild with the neighbor kids. We ate gooseberries that hung over the fence and sat under an apple tree with a saltshaker eating green apples. We put on our bathing suits in the summer and played in the water ditches, and we couldn’t wait for the first day of May when we could go barefoot. This was our way of living. We always had food, and my folks had the luxury of a car. I remember mom and her friends pooling their money for gas so they could go out on Saturday night.

Before my dad became a soldier, a mentally challenged boy lived next door. Often in the summers, my folks would get into water fights, and the neighbor boy loved it., He would egg my dad on, “Glen, I’ll get the water. I’ll get the water.” My mom would squeal and run up the stairs into the house. One time she broke her toe, tripping on the steps.

After being away from the house one day, we came home to an empty well. 

The boy had drained it.

It refilled.

Later my dad got a nanny goat, for he wanted to gain weight and had some stomach problems, and heard that goat’s milk would help. My dad would chain the goat to a stake and place it in various areas around the neighborhood to graze. The trouble was, no matter how deep he pounded in that stake, the boy would pull it out. The boy would then drive it around the neighborhood.  Soon the goat became so nervous my dad gave it away.

Why am I telling you this? I’ve been reading about feeding the homeless, and it caused me to think of Grandmother. And that sometimes it is not the most affluent who are the ones to help their fellow man.

I thought of the tent city in downtown Eugene, and with Thanksgiving coming up, I thought, why don’t we throw a couple of turkeys in the oven and take them down for a feast on the grass. I don’t know about the logistics of that idea or the health issues, but wouldn’t it be grand if when someone showed up hungry, we fed them?

 

Here's a quote from a reader. She found it on the inside cap of her Tazo iced tea.

"Truth is so rare that it is delightful to tell."  

There Lived in the Land a Handsome Prince

 When I was away from the house, my husband opened the front door for Gabe, our Rottweiler.

Outside the closed door, mayhem ensued. A motorcycle had zoomed up a hill that intercepted our street. Well, a motorcycle is to a Rottweiler as a rabbit is to a coyote.

Gabe chased the man who was frantically maneuvering his bike to avoid clashing with the dog until he finally out-ran the dog.

I knew nothing of this until two days later when the man knocked at our door and explained it to me. (Neither did my husband.) He said he had a young daughter and was afraid for her, and rightfully so. I said, "I would trust Gabe with my life, but I will never let him out the front door and will keep him on a leash." That seemed to satisfy the man as I stood there quaking that he may demand some disciplinary action.

 A few days later, the man came to our street when I was walking Gabe and proceeded to make friends with him.

The man would often see us on the street, where he would drop to one knee, hold out his arms, and let Gabe run into them. I learned that the man was a Navy SEAL.

 I recently read about the rigorous training of Navy SEALs, including a 5-day sleep deprivation to prepare them for battle. Knowing how rigorous their training was, I was all the more impressed with how this man humbled himself and made peace.

 I wouldn't have chosen a Rottweiler, and I didn't. He chose me.

 Gabe came to us as a juvenile, almost full-grown but still with that slender gangling look of a young dog. He just appeared at our door one day. I tried to find a home for him, including tacking up posters around the neighborhood. Finally, after a week of no response, he became my dog.

I named him Gabriel because I said he was my guardian angel.

He had some sort of skin condition that the Vet said was caused by stress.  (Being homeless can do that to a dog or a person.) He prescribed shampoo that cleared Gabe's skin, and love and a home cured his stress.

Most every morning, Gabe and I would run in the forest across the street from our house. Although we lived in a residential area of Eugene, the university-owned the land across the street, and it was left wild.

Gabe would ride with me in the car that had a fabric headliner. And since he liked to stand on the console between the seats—pushing me to go faster, I figured, his head would brush the car's ceiling. So, one day, tired of trying to remove black hairs from the vehicle's fabric headliner, I put a Babushka on him.

How cute was that?

We were building a house in Marcola, and Gabe and I would regularly drive to the building site. If I stopped along the way at a drive-through for coffee or whatever, he would wait patiently for a dog biscuit. He soon learned that all drive-through windows ought to give out dog biscuits. After waiting patiently, if a biscuit didn't come through that open window, we would give them a good piece of his mind by barking as we drove away.

On one such trip to the house, smack dab in the middle of Marcola, Gabe saw a dead dog lying alongside the road. He did a quick double-take and looked quizzically at me. Surprised that he recognized the situation, I said, "Yes, it's sad, isn't it?"

During this time, my daughter lived in California, and on occasion, when she was sent on a trip, Gabe and I would drive down and take care of her critters. Her dog was a Great Dane. When I took a walk with those two dogs leading the way, I felt like I had a team of horses in front of me. Luckily, they kept together and didn't go their separate ways.

On an evening, as the Valley River shopping mall parking lot had nearly emptied, I led Gabe to the car when two men walked past us. I heard one say, "Not with that dog, I wouldn't."

 I figured that day Gabe lived up to his name Gabriel.

 

                       There lived in the land a handsome prince, from my scrapbook.

 

 

Something to ponder:

“You will never get any more out of life than you expect. Keep your mind on things you want, and off those you don’t.” --Bruce Lee

Although Bruce Lee (November 27, 1940–July 20, 1973) is best known for his in martial arts and film, he was also one of the most underappreciated philosophers of the twentieth century, instrumental in introducing Eastern traditions to Western audiences.

He always carried a tiny 2 x 3” pocketbook with him which he filled with training regimens, poems, affirmations, and philosophical reflections. Images of his notebook that are perfectly readable, can be found at Bruce Lee’s Never-Before-Seen Writings on Willpower, Emotion, Reason, Memory, Imagination, and Confidence – Brain Pickings