Hey, how’s it going?

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Watched any TV lately?

Heck, I used to be one of those people who proudly bragged to anyone who would listen; “I don’t watch TV.”

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After one such announcement I was stunned when this woman said to me, “Hmmph, so you one of them smug bastards who too gooooood to watch tv.”

“Huh?” I questioned, caught off guard, “Well, um, yeah.”

Had a ton of reasons not to watch, all patterned to fit the situation of the moment. “I’m too busy.” “It’s mind-numbing drivel.” “Has nothing to do with my ‘getting ahead.’” “Personally . . . (pause for effect, while simultaneously rubbing chin) . . . I pursue more intellectual pursuits, per se.”

Your turn to say, “Huh?”

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Well, that was then

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Television has come a long way since she pounced. We now have multiple choices and thousand inch screens that bathe us in whatever information we choose to wallow in.

Ever notice that even though we have 500 channels to choose from, we still watch the same 5 or 6 channels religiously? Hmmm.

And even though I’ve beaten around the proverbial bush, this is a health related article.

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Today’s article is about, The Doctor Oz Show.

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My mom brought up yet again how I’ve shared my stuff with others most of my life, beginning with when I traded my new snow boots to Melvin Lee. I was in grammar school, probably third grade.

It was late 50’s. Mid-winter, lower Michigan, 3 feet of snow.

He only had one left boot and a sob-story. I bought into it. We traded for my two new boots, and for some reason I assumed mom would just run out and buy me another pair.

Imagine my surprise when I proudly announced, while displaying the lone left boot, “Melvin only had one boot, so I traded him for mine.”

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“You did What!” she said, as I witnessed a 360º neck spin way before .

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Who knew moms didn’t just “run out” and re-spend money on things they’d already bought. To his credit, Melvin brought me another left boot after mom called his mom. Seems he lost mine too.

Fast forward (tv term), fifty-plus years later, and I still have the trait. I love to share, and here’s my latest contribution to the cause.

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Tip:

Presbyopia = older eyes. (I have two of those) That’s not the original tip, but Doctor Oz just taught it, and I caught it.

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The Dr. Oz show comes on in my area at 11pm every weeknight. I’m on the East Coast.

If you’re at all concerned about your health, or know anyone who may need the information, (we all do) you really should take an hour and watch his show. Only one challenge. It can become addicting.

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Information: The Drug of Choice

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The Dr. Oz show is informative to a fault and entertaining to . . . boot. His laid back manner of teaching us about our health is great. That’s the only way I can say it. I learn something every night I watch his show.

If you are not watching Dr. Oz, you are doing yourself a disservice. But hey, if you do watch it and decide it’s not for you I’ll bet you know someone who watches TV; someone who needs the information.

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Couch Potatoes Untie! er . . . Unite!

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So let’s all share. Give someone a gift of health. Watching the Dr. Oz show is like being in an accelerated health and wellness class. You learn, you laugh, you get healthier, just by watching tv.

How easy is that?

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CK Dillon

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Today I signed Oprah’s “No Phone Zone” pledge:
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“Home boy, I’m looking important!”

We all need to feel or “look” important at some time I guess, and I’m sure we’ve all faked the “important” call. You know the one. Point the index finger up and announce, “I’ve gotta get this.”

How important, really, was my last cell phone call, or text, while I was driving? It wasn’t worth endangering those around me by a long shot.

What Helped Make Up My Mind, to Change?

Here’s what happened yesterday, back to back.

I was standing on a street-corner waiting to cross and heard tires screeching. A cell-phone driver didn’t notice  traffic stopped in front of him and had to slam on the brakes.

Of the twelve cars that drove by me:

• Four people, 3 male and 1 female, were talking
  
• Couldn’t see anyone texting

Then as I drove home a woman in a pretty big SUV swerved, braked, corrected and drove on. All in front of me. She eventually pulled into the left lane to turn into the school’s driveway, and of course, she was on the phone. Hmmm.

On the highway, I noticed quite a few drivers engaged in conversation. Hmmmmmm.

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At home I seldom watch the news, but it was on as I passed through the family room. The first story was about a cell-phone-caused accident where two people died, but not the person who hit them while texting.

Again . . . Hmmmmmmm . . . Was that three strikes or four?

So now my challenge is, after much consideration while writing this article, should I “step up to the plate” and sign No Phone Zone Pledge Option 3? “No Calling or Texting While Driving . . . Period.”

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My Pro’s: Why I will sign it

• I don’t mind pulling off the road, where I won’t look as important, to talk
  

• People who need my immediate attention can leave a message
  

• I might save a life

• I prefer not to endanger others

My Con’s: Why I needed another option

• There may be an emergency

See Part 4 And The Verdict Is?
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See Part 2 No Phone Zone Pledge Option #2
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CK Dillon

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Today I signed Oprah’s “No Phone Zone” pledge:

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No Phone Zone Pledge, Option #2

I Signed the No Phone Zone Pledge option 2, where it reads; “I will not text while driving and will use only hands-free calling if I need to speak on the phone while I am driving.” I left myself a way out in case I just had to use the phone.

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My excuse was, “I may have an emergency or something.” “So not wanting to lie up front, to Oprah, you know what I mean, knowing I’d use the phone in case of an emergency . . . I didn’t go with number three.” (”italics” are comments made by cell-phone drivers)

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Why Didn’t I Just Go cold turkey with, No Calls or Texting at all, while driving? Many reasons, none of which are valid.

However, in the last two weeks I have not made one phone call while driving, and only accepted one call out of habit. Even then I remembered, answering that call was a no-no. It won’t happen again.

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Ahhhh, The Good Ole’ 70s

Look At Me, Man!

Initially cell phones and car phones were unaffordable to most of us. They were huge, heavy, inconvenient and fashionable. And you know, if you were there, we were into our fashion. Looking back, it was straight comedy the way we dressed but hey, we were having fun!

One summer day in ‘76 a partner from work drove up to my home, blocked the driveway, blew his horn and signaled for me to come out. As I walked up to his car, I noticed he was very animated, gesturing and talking loudly on a phone.

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What’s Wrong With This Picture?

First, it wasn’t a cell phone. It was a residential phone, cord and everything. Secondly, it was an AT & T Trimline phone . . . pink. Some of us remember those phones. Ma Bell’s contribution to the home fashion industry was to add multiple color choices. But my boy chose pink? C’mon man, if you’re reading this, you could have held out for another color. Black, beige or something!

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What the Heck?

He was a funny brother! I had to ask, “Man, what are you doing now? You’re always clowning.” His reasoning for having attached a Trimline phone to his console was revealing. His answer was simply, “Homeboy, I’m lookin’ important.”

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Click here for access to an in-depth chart of various state’s cell phone and text messaging bans.

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See Part 3 “Home boy, I’m looking important!”

See Part 1 Will You Sign It?

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“Good Health and Success are a Lifestyle . . . Live Well,”

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CK Dillon

Contact: Charles@CreateVitality.Com

On the Web: Http://CreateVitality.Com

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Today I signed Oprah’s “No Phone Zone” pledge:

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What Took Me So Long?

I don’t have a clue why I hesitated, after-all it’s something I’ve thought about doing for a long time.

“Oprah ain’t the only one who thought of this,” I was told by a young lady in line at the store. “I’ve been thinking about stopping too.”

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Thinking isn’t Doing

For many years, friends, family and I, have debated the reasons why we feel it is imperative to:

• immediately make or accept a cell phone call while driving
  

• accept/read/write and send a text while driving

• conduct business on a cell phone while driving
  

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I readily admit I’ve:

• crossed center lines that make a racket
  
• veered into oncoming lanes, slightly…
  
• driven off the right side of the road, somewhat…
  

Knowing what I know now, I have been extremely lucky that I didn’t hurt anyone else or myself. I’d like to feel it’s because, “I’ve got skills,” but it’s not. It’s foolish of me to feel I’m that good of a driver. Reaction time is critical and any distraction can become deadly in an instant.

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Yeah, I’ll Participate in the “No Phone Zone” Pledge But . . .

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(”italics” below are comments made to me by cell-phone drivers)

The first time I heard about the pledge, I knew immediately that I’d participate in the idea of the program, but, “I’m not necessarily gonna sign up, you know, specifically and all, for the program.”

After all, “I don’t have to prove anything to anybody else. I’ll just stop talking and texting while driving.”

I was really going to Quit – quit,“ to paraphrase, “but I thought I would “bend the rules slightly to add what I thought should have been a fourth option.”

“Personally, I thought Oprah could have given us a fourth option, where we could keep driving under certain circumstances, like emergencies, but keeping it real, she’s Oprah and I’m not.”

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See: No Phone Zone Pledge Option #2

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“Good Health and Success are a Lifestyle . . . Live Well,”

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CK Dillon

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There’s Hope Yet!

When things seemed out of control, my granddad was known to say, “There’s hope yet!”

On Monday morning my cell phone rang at about 10 am, during my commute. I like to think  I was in the Caldecott Tunnel, awake, when it rang, but in retrospect, that’s more likely me trying to make my story more dramatic.

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The caller was my respiratory specialist, who’d kind of

become a friend, and he sounded excited. He said, “Charles, I’ve got good news, bad news and good news. How soon can you be here, and which do you want to hear first?”

Swerving to take the exit, I said, “The bad news, I’d prefer to end this chat with good news.” “Ok,” he said, “here’s the bad news. There’s no cure for what you have . . .” Silence.

Surprisingly, my life did not flash before my eyes, so I said, “And the good news . . . ?”

“We’ve finally gotten a handle on what you’ve got. Your lung biopsy revealed that you have a rare disease called Sarcoidosis.” I could actually hear him smiling.

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“Say what? Leave it to me to get a rare disease that can’t be cured?”

But still hopeful, I said, “Alright Doc, what’s the other good news, this first piece does not fit with my plan to live past a hundred and ten.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” he said cheerfully. Doc knew my plan to be a hundred and ten was important to me. I promised myself when I was 6 that I’d live at least 110 years.

“I can’t promise you a hundred and ten, but I wouldn’t rule out ninety. We can get your Sarcoidosis under control with steroids.” More silence on his part, and now mine. I told you he was good.

I’m thinking, ” Sarcoidosis? Steroids?”

Ok, I was a pretty consistent weight lifter before the illness and Doc knew it. I was familiar with some of the horror stories about steroids . . .

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. . . and he must have read my mind because he said, “Not that kind of steroid Charles, so when can you get in here?”

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See Part 8. There’s Hope Yet

See 10 Revenge? . . . Nah! Just Triumph!

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CK Dillon

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My illness was her pain

The following Saturday, after “crack rumor” week, was a mandatory work day. Forced overtime, the company called it. The money’s good, but I’d rather have slept in.

That commute was the longest 65 miles of solitude I ever drove.

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I awoke on the daybed and climbed, or rather rolled off onto the floor. By now I was in pain and stiff all the time. I showered, dressed, went to the door, looked back at my wife and was about to say , “see ya tonight.”

I froze in my steps and asked, “What’s up honey? Why are you looking at me like that?”

She said, “Nothing,” and gave me a slightly tighter hug than I normally got before I left for work. I tried to joke, “Oh no! Not the nothing!” She didn’t smile.

I couldn’t read the look on her face as she handed me my jacket and said, “See you tonight, be careful.” It wasn’t like she was frightened. She wasn’t crying, frowning or anything I could put my finger on.

Then it dawned on me. Her look said she was resigned to the possibility, or maybe even convinced, that I wasn’t going to be around

much longer. I have to admit I’d felt the same at times and had dealt with a ton of despair, but had to keep positive.

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I said, “It’ll be alright. I’ll beat this. I promise.”

Problem was, I had another promise to keep. I was nowhere near 110 years old, and I’d promised my six-year-old self that I’d live at least that long.

I’ve never been a quitter and wasn’t about to give up, but I was exhausted with being ill.

Honestly, looking back, that day began as the lowest point in my life, before or since. That was when I realized how taxing this whole thing was on my wife. She was a trooper but it was wearing on her.

I was emotional all the way to work. One minute laughing at fate, that I’d be leaving my family behind. The next minute, crying, the next, pissed.

Fellow commuters, if they happened to glance my way would have thought I’d lost it. And I did for a while. Hell, I deserved to lose it.

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I must have ticked off one mini-van-mama in particular, because she pulled alongside me one mile from entering the tunnel and stopped applying eye-liner long enough to give me the middle finger salute.

I think she thought I was shaking my fist at her, when I was railing at my circumstances.

See Part 6. That’s What Friends Are For

See 8. The trip home was better.

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My Symptoms

Lethargy consumed me. I could not wait for the others to go off-campus to lunch, which I always refused, because I needed to sneak in a nap.

This was unusual behavior for me, because at the time I was an active, athletic, health conscious, 40-something, 130 mile a-day commuter, who played Racquetball every day at lunch-time and had plans to celebrate my 110th birthday.

Suddenly I’m sleeping all the time? Something ain’t right!

I’d sleep through lunch, stay late and sleep for a couple of hours, but not charge over-time. My supervisor thought he was getting extra work out of me, for free. Hah! As the ex-prez, (you know who you are) has been known to say, “Not gonna happen!”

The reason I mention the commute aspect is because it was during one such commute that I began to suspect something was terribly wrong.

That day I had worked the 10 am – 6 pm shift. After contributing a much needed few hours of nap time, I’d left work around 8:30 pm.

For many years my route on the commute home was to drive west on highway 580, to 13, to east 24, through the Caldecott Tunnel in Orinda, Ca. I used to jokingly say I could do it in my sleep.

I must say it was a bit of a surprise, when I actually did it.

The first time it happened, I drove into the tunnel in the fast lane, as usual. I noticed a big, brown, Ford Crown Vic’ next to me in the right lane. It was veering real close to the center line, so I eased to my left just a little bit. Figured he was probably afraid of hitting the outside railing and would prefer to tangle with me in my little commuter.

Next thing I remember, I looked up and had traveled about a half-mile beyond the tunnel, still in the fast lane. I remember swerving slightly toward where the Ford should have been, but it was nowhere to be found. Did I dream the Ford part? I can’t say.

Realistically, I must have gone into a zone of some sort, still holding on to a consciousness, but as far as I was concerned, I had fallen asleep.

After that first time, it happened many nights in a row. It got to the point to where I looked forward to it, and yes I know that’s crazy, but I craved the rest.

Every night for weeks I was God’s co-pilot. Something else had to be lighting my path. Like clockwork I’d wake up a half-mile out of the tunnel, roll down a window, take a breath and thank God I made it.

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It became my new normal.

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See Part 1. Living With Sarcoidosis

See Part 2. What’s Wrong With This Picture! I’m Not Lazy!”

See Part 3. My Symptoms

See Part 4. My New Normal

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“Good Health and Success are a Lifestyle . . . Let’s Choose to Live Well,”

CK Dillon

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Today’s article is the first in a series about a disease, Sarcoidosis, that hits more than close to home with me. It’s something I’ve lived with every day for the past 15 years.

Hope I do it justice.

Here’s My Story.

Early fall, nineteen-ninety-five, was to be an extreme and lonely period in my life. After being ill for several months during the summer, I was diagnosed with something called Sarcoidosis.

Initially told by a specialist that the disease affected mainly African Americans and Scandinavians, I quickly realized I had no one to talk with who could relate to what I was going through.

I didn’t know any other African Americans who had been diagnosed, and I didn’t know any Scandinavians, period.

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My close friends listened and lent a sympathetic ear when I needed it, but they couldn’t feel me, so to speak. I imagine that’s what it’s like with most serious diseases.

Here’s a big “Thank You!” to all of you who participate in various support groups.

When I was first diagnosed, there was very little information on the web, or anywhere else about Sarcoidosis. I’d spread the word whenever the opportunity presented itself, but most people just couldn’t relate. And frankly, my knowledge was limited.

Fast-forward to this decade and the disease is no longer obscure. I’ve come to realize many other African Americans were right there with me, waging the battle against an enemy unidentified.

Those who came before weren’t known as pioneers. They were referred to in a less endearing light. “He’s Lazy with a capital L,” was something I used to hear a lot about a certain older gentleman, “he’s always been lazy.” Lethargy is a common symptom of Sarcoidosis. Maybe “old dude” wasn’t just “lazy.”

One of my earliest symptoms was lethargy. Friends and co-workers had always known me to be energetic, but suddenly I’d hear whispers, “he’s always real tired lately.”

At that time, in nineteen-ninety-five, my symptoms were a “Charles only” problem. I didn’t want to be tired, or as some would feel, “lazy,” I just couldn’t help it.

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See Part 2.  . What’s Wrong With This Picture!  I’m Not Lazy!”

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“Good Health and Success are a Lifestyle . . . Live Well,”

CK Dillon

Contact: Charles@CreateVitality.Com

On the Web: Http://CreateVitality.Com

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This is for all the “real men” out there who don’t get check-ups.

How often do we, or someone we know, get a headache, complain about blurred vision or feel like we need a quick pick-me-up? Usually we’ll take an aspirin, apply eye drops, gulp down an energy drink, etc., anything to make us feel better, if only temporarily.

These remedies, for the most part, are effective. But when our home remedies don’t correct the ailment we may need to get another opinion. A professional opinion . . . like, hmmmm, maybe a doctor’s?

That’s where, for many in our community, and I’m guilty of it too, the buck stops. We, especially men, tend to do it later; we’ll get around to it or say, “I know how I feel.” Until one of the women in our lives says something, or puts her foot down, we will do nothing.

Yes, I have used excuses instead of handling my business too . . . until I had a rather serious ailment that I initially tried to treat with cough drops, etc.

After my wife insisted that what I was doing wasn’t working, I had to consult with a doctor. Now I have to say, that method is not good enough. We really need to get a handle on our health and become pro-active.

Today’s article is a brief run-down of symptoms of Diabetes. These symptoms usually develop over a short period of time and may seem minor at first.

Some Symptoms of Type 1 Diabetes

• Constant or Increased hunger, even after a good meal.
• Significant or Unexplained loss of Weight
• Increased thirst
• Frequent or increased urination
• Blurred vision
• Extreme fatigue
• Dry mouth.
• Headaches.
• An additional symptom of Type 1 Diabetes: loss of consciousness; rare but very serious.

Treatment:

People with Type 1 diabetes must take insulin for the remainder of their lives. If a person has type 1 diabetes and is not diagnosed and treated, they can lapse into a coma or worse.

Some Symptoms of Type 2 Diabetes are the same symptoms as Type 1, but also include:

• Feeling ill
• Frequent infections
• Slow-healing wounds
• Frequent yeast infections
• Itchy skin around the vagina and groin area, that is not cured by thrush medication.
• Weight gain.
• Decreased vision
• Impotency.
• Boils (higher blood sugar levels provide food for bacteria)
• Evidence of bruising
• Acanthosis nigricans: Light-brown-to-black, velvety, rough areas, or increased skin markings on the back and sides of the neck, armpits and in the groin.

Treatment:

• Until recently, Type 2 diabetes typically developed in people who were middle aged and could usually be controlled by diet and drugs. In some cases people may have to take insulin as well. Type 2 diabetes is rapidly becoming detectable in children as young as adolescent.

To contact the National Diabetes Education Program (NDEP) for more resources on preventing and/or controlling diabetes:

• Call 1-888-693-6337
• Website: Http://YourDiabetesInfo.org.

Information for this article was researched an adapted from information including but not limited to the following:

• National Institute of Diabetes and Digestive and Kidney Diseases.
• National Diabetes Statistics, 2007. Bethesda, MD:
• U.S. Department of Health and Human Services,
• National Institutes of Health 2008: http://diabetes.niddk.nih.gov/dm/pubs/statistics/

Hope this article helps in some way. If you are experiencing any of these symptoms on a regular basis, quit “being a man” and get yourself checked out.

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Click here To read Segment 1

Click here To read Segment 2

Thanks for reading.

“Good Health and Success are a Lifestyle . . . Let’s Choose to Live Well,”

CK Dillon

Contact: Charles@CreateVitality.Com

On the Web: Http://CreateVitality.Com

Http://CreateVitality.Com

What is Diabetes, or . . . “The Sugar?”

• Diabetes, a leading cause of death and disability in the United States, is a group of diseases that won’t allow our bodies to properly convert food into energy.

• This conversion process, that our bodies won’t allow, is known as metabolism.

• One sugar energy source, blood glucose, is produced during metabolism.

• The level of blood glucose (sugar) in our blood is regulated by Insulin, a hormone produced in the pancreas.

Diabetes is distinguished by high levels of blood glucose (sugar) in our system, resulting from our body’s defective insulin production, action, or both.

Types of Diabetes

• Type 1 Diabetes; formerly Juvenile Onset Diabetes, accounts for 5-10% of all diagnosed cases of diabetes and results when the body’s immune system attacks and destroys its insulin-producing cells in the pancreas.

• Type 2 Diabetes; formerly Adult-Onset Diabetes accounts for 90-95% of all diagnosed cases of diabetes and occurs when the body does not make enough insulin or cannot effectively use the insulin it makes.

In the not-too-distant past, Type 2 Diabetes was normally discovered in adults over 40 years of age. Lately it has become prevalent in younger generations, including adolescents.

• Gestational Diabetes; occurs in women only during pregnancy

The cause of each type of diabetes is different, but the common thread is high levels of glucose (sugar) in the blood.

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See Segment #1: Diabetes in the African American Community

See Segment #3: Some Symptoms of Diabetes

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“Good Health and Success are a Lifestyle . . . Let’s Choose to Live Well,”

CK Dillon,

Contact: Charles@CreateVitality.Com

On the Web: Http://CreateVitality.Com

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