Sunday, 21 March 2010

The Anatomy of a Binge - and Why I Need to Get Ill

I once again I have thrown myself to the bottom of the health ladder and am currently clawing my way back from non-Paleo, through pseudo Paleo towards proper Paleo.

Last weekend, it was my friend’s birthday party. We live in society in which celebration is inextricably bound to food and alcohol. The significance of the former is usually signified by the volume of the latter. Accordingly, the itinerary for this party saw the revellers hitting a cocktail bar valiantly early, after which, a few hours later, a restaurant. Then, one of our friends hosted the rest of the night at his house, where the breathtakingly well-stocked drinks cabinet was seemingly incapable of depletion.

The night was a reminder of how social triggers usually precipitate my binges, and how alcohol seems to play a physiological as well as a psychological role; as well as the drunken state eroding will power at the time, the hangover later creates sugar and salt cravings.

Yet the following day it was evening before I was able to muster the energy and stomach space for food. Great – a 24 hour fast, I hear you say; but if my last meal the day before was eaten at midnight, and I continued to drink calorie-crammed alcohol through most of the early hours of the next morning, I suspect I don't qualify for much praise.

Thus, at 8pm, a rag bag trio of casualties (Mrs M, a fellow party-goer and me) summoned the strength of will to attend our local Chinese restaurant – what better way to satiate those hangover urges than with that heady mix of salty and sweet of food.

Before the weekend, I had resolved to eat healthily the night after the party. As we traipsed up the road to Wong’s, I inwardly chuckled at my naivety.

After half a bottle of wine, a crispy duck and a plate of chicken and cashew nuts, I was ready to put the final nail in the coffin. On the way home, as we rolled past the local supermarket, I dodged in to grab a couple of slices of cheesecake. Back at home, these were quickly devoured and I stumbled into bed soon afterwards, where no doubt this grotesque cocktail of poisons slowly fermented in my outraged gut.

The next day started well. Loosely following my
three-day binge recovery plan, I planned to eat low carb, mostly Paleo, but not worry about volume. I would ease my way out of the binge mentality with Paleo treats. I took a couple of fat-laden free-range pork chops out of the freezer, laying the groundwork for a tasty Paleo evening meal.

For breakfast, in spite of not being sure whether I was genuinely hungry, I feasted on coconut cream, fruit, nuts and cocoa powder:

But by lunch, I’d been gripped by the need to indulge. Nut butter, my normal, pseudo Paleo crutch, was somehow not offering what I needed, so I bought a block of cheese, rationalising that
at least it’s low carb and, according to some, the least bad dairy option.

I also bought some smoked mackerel fillets.

Thus, my lunch, eaten semi-hungry, was this:

Make no mistake – this was a lot of food. I could probably have comfortably survived until dinner the next day on this alone; but a couple of hours later I found myself being offered chocolate cake by my friend whose birthday we had celebrated at the weekend. It had to be finished, after all. Two slices later, all hope of having an appetite for the pork chops was gone.

Yet emotionally I was already locked into the pork chops. With Mrs M away that week, dinner in front of the TV was to be the highlight of the evening.

And so, in spite of a complete lack of hunger, I later devoured both pork chops, along with broccoli drowned in melted cheese:

It had been important to finish the cheese so I could eat clean the next day. This is, of course, nonsense - I could have wrapped the cheese up and simply not eaten it the following day. I then finished off with some chocolate eggs Mrs M had left lying around; I had already eaten chocolate cake earlier, so it ‘made no difference.’

I’ve already messed up today anyway


So that I can make a clean start tomorrow

... are two of the most frequently used rationalisations in our house.

The following day, I fasted until lunch, when I was meeting birthday boy. Today was going to be 100% Paleo. From the menu, I selected a half roast chicken; but I forgot to ask them to hold the fries and instead of changing my order, rather slyly convinced myself I would leave the fries on the side of the plate.

When the food arrived, at first I did indeed avoid the fries; but when my friend offered me a breaded onion ring, I obeyed. Then I dipped a piece of chicken into his sour cream dip. I was clearly daring myself to have another day of eating garbage - and before long I’d decimated my fries, half of his fries and a fistful of those frightful sauce sachets, ranging from ketchup to mayonnaise.

From the pub we proceeded directly to the cake shop, where we bought one fruit tartlet each. Mine was gone in seconds. I could have eaten another without blinking, but already birthday boy was balking.

“You’re not even in the same league, are you?” said I, by now resigned to another day of dietary self-destruction.

Back in the cake shop, I acquired a blackberry and apple turnover...

... and finally, some chocolates to finish:

That evening I ate homemade soup. Even I have my limits, and no amount of rationalisation would have convinced me to shovel any more crap on top of the mound of filth now festering in my intestines.

For the rest of the week I was pretty good, though I still hadn’t yet got my moderation mojo back. I was eating Paleo meals that were too big then binging on nuts.

Finally, on Friday, I pulled a perfect Paleo day out of the bag. These were the highlights:

- 9 minutes intense interval training
- 60 seconds of very cold shower
- Fasted all day until dinner
- Drank only water and herbal tea
- Organic chicken with roasted vegetables for evening meal

Then, last night, just as I was about to escape the orbit of planet binge - engine trouble. One too many wines, and I lost the plot. The primary rationalisations this time were

well I haven’t really recovered from the last binge, so layering another day on top will make little difference

I can start afresh next week

I think the photos speak for themselves.

I have become finely tuned to the effects of eating bad food, so had no trouble connecting the post-binge puffy eyes, lack of alertness, uncomfortable guts and morning grogginess with the non-Paleo lapses of the last 18 months; but apparently these consequences are not enough to deter me.

That’s why I need to get ill. I think this would put me off – or at least reduce the frequency.

Since the start of last year, I have not had so much as a cold. Is it the vitamin D supplementation? Or perhaps the post-binge super-Paleo days like Friday? Maybe it’s the Paleo eating I do the rest of the time. Maybe all of them. Whatever the reason, it seems too easy. I need to be taught a lesson.
... Read more

Friday, 12 March 2010

Doctors and their Good Intentions: The Blood Test Fiasco Continues

"I suggest you stop taking vitamin D."

Such was the well-intentioned advice of my consultant haematologist recently. He was concerned about my kidney function.

It all started when I turned up for my regular blood test about an hour after a savage workout in the gym. These tests are to monitor a condition called 'aplastic anaemia'. My view is that there is nothing wrong with me – but that’s another story.

On the day of the blood test, my haematologist was upbeat. For several years I've had very stable blood counts, albeit that they are at the 'lower end of normal'. Not low enough to require action, not high enough for me to be left alone. Hence, I’ve been on the blood test merry-go-round since about 2004.

This time I took a photo of the blood being taken:

Every 6 months, this is is the conversation:

"How are you feeling?"
"No symptoms?"
"Okay, see you in 6 months."

I have always been deeply suspicious of these 'normal' ranges, given the things 'normal' people do, diet and exercise-wise. Yet all kinds of changes have taken place in my life since 2004, not least turning Paleo and starting vitamin D supplementation. I have even deliberately eaten wheat to see whether that would change the numbers. Yet they have scarcely changed. Until now.

My suspicion is that some people simply have lower blood counts that others, yet function fine. I think low counts can be caused by many factors - and depending on the cause, health may or may not be affected.

This time, two of the key numbers had rocketed. The white cell count had gone from 3.0 to 7.7 and the neutrophil count from 1.3 to 6.7. The other numbers had not really changed.

As far as the consultant was concerned, this was great news. He even wondered whether they had mixed up my sample with someone else, before quickly waving the idea away with his hand in case I thought he was being serious.

Should I be pleased? I am not sure – forgive me if I don’t start arranging a party. After all, I feel just as healthy as I always have and, no, I do not have any symptoms. Whilst I accept it's possible to feel fine but not be well, one has to assume some significance from 6 unbroken years of feeling fine, during which the sum total of my illness has been two, short, mild colds.

If anything, I ought to worried. It will not be possible to untangle the multiple and no doubt interdependent factors behind my blood counts - but surely common sense should raise alarm bells when there are changes to a system that aint broke.

Have I pummelled my body into having normal counts by my too-frequent forays into a ‘normal’ lifestyle? A look at the flagged points and associated posts on my body composition graph are enough to give you an idea of what I’ve been up to since the start of 2009.

On the other hand, perhaps there really was a problem, and either the vitamin D, the Paleo diet or both have helped cure it – but it just took a year or more for the benefits to filter through to the blood counts.

We will never know.

Three days later, I got a call from my haematologist. He wanted to talk about creatinine. I had forgotten they were even testing my creatinine levels. The creatinine tests take a few days to come through, which was why he had not mentioned them on the day.

Creatinine is one of the by products of muscle activity. Since the kidneys are responsible for removing the creatinine from the blood, high levels are taken as a sign of poor kidney function. Of course it rather depends on how long the kidneys have had to do their job. If you’ve recently generated a lot of creatinine then even a fine pair of kidneys may not have got rid of it all when the test is done.

“I can probably clear this up straight away”, I told him.

Pleased with myself for having worked hard enough at the gym to affect a blood test, I recounted my activities with relish.

“Yes I suppose that could have had some effect”, he conceded.

I was also pleased with myself for knowing also that vitamin D toxicity can effect kidney function, so I mentioned my daily winter dose of 4000 IU, swelling even further with pride at my savvy decision to supplement.

This, on reflection, was a bad idea. First, because I was expecting a member of the medical profession to be impressed by my decision to supplement something which based on official guidelines, I do not need to. Second, because I was bringing into the discussion something about which I probably know more than he does.

Was I prepared to explain the research that had convinced me that the official healthy range is wrong? Would I try to convince him of the credentials of the organisation I get the test kit from? He’s a nice guy, but he’d have to be a lot nicer to let some upstart armchair pseudo-medic tell him what’s what.

When he had finished politely listening, he suggested the following:

1. Stop taking vitamin D
2. Avoid intense exercise for a few days before my next blood test
3. A visit to the kidney specialist

A week later, I found myself once again amongst the unwell, as I sat in the ultrasound department waiting to have my kidney function checked. I had mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, I applauded his caution and was glad to be the subject of such careful scrutiny. I can see why people develop Münchausen syndrome.

On the other hand, the evident poor health of the people who invariably surround me when I am waiting for these tests leaves me with an abiding sense of misplaced attention.

While the ultra scan doctor glided her device around my gel-lubed abdomen and I dutifully breathed in and out when bidden, I noticed the nurse at the end of the bed eying my Vibram Five Fingers curiously.

"What are they?!" she half asked, half laughed.

"Vibram Five Fingers," I said. They allow you to go barefoot without being barefoot."

She pondered this information, then appeared to come to a conclusion. "Very cool," she declared. End of conversation.

When the scan was over, the expected news was delivered. "Your kidneys are working fine."

Nevertheless, procedure dictates that I must pay a separate visit to the kidney specialist, with whom I will discuss this and the creatinine readings. By then it will be less than a month before my next regular blood test. The merry-go-round continues.

In case you were wondering, I will not stop taking vitamin D. I will, however, avoid intense exercise on the morning of the next blood test.


Meanwhile, elsewhere, the medical establishment was potentially threatening the vitamin D levels of someone else.

One of my relatives was recently prescribed drugs to treat high blood pressure. Not particularly high, you understand - but high enough, in the opinion of the doctor, to merit treatment.

A few weeks later, she noticed her asthma was a little worse than usual, but paid no attention. By chance, she later came across information on the Internet suggesting the drug she was taking could cause coughing symptoms.

Back at the doctor’s, she was told this is a common symptom of the drug she was taking, and she was duly put on different drug instead. Two things bugged me about this. First, that she was not warned about the potential side effect. Should thing like that be left up to the patient to notice? Second, what are the potential side-effects of the new drug? And could there be side effects that don't make themselves known so conspicuously?

So I did a little digging of my own. The new drug is what’s called a calcium blocker. This family of drugs acts by blocking the calcium channels, which apparently has a blood pressure-lowering effect. But guess what? It also affects the ability of the body to produce vitamin D. The fact that calcium blockers are said to have 'interactions' with vitamin D, means doctors may recommend against vitamin D supplementation for people taking them.

Ironically, my relative has reduced the vitamin D dose she takes based on the information I drew her attention to, not on the advice the doctor, who is not aware of the vitamin D.

I have not read enough about this to be sure - but instinctively I am not comfortable. If calcium blockers inhibit the body's production of vitamin D then presumably sunlight becomes a less potent source and so more, not less supplementation is needed in our sun-starved UK climate. If any readers have knowledge in this area, your thoughts would be appreciated.

I don’t wish to paint an unduly bleak picture, nor to denigrate the efforts or intentions of doctors. I know one or two personally and they are amongst the most genuinely caring people I know.

One of them sent me an article recently, featured on the front page of a prominent medical publication, covering the potential importance of vitamin D. So things are changing. I just hope they change quickly enough so that my relative and others I care about can avoid being sucked into the downward vortex of prescription drugs.

See Also:

My Yellow Skin Mystery
My Wheat Experiment
My Wheat Experiment Blood Test Update

[Blood Test Update in Post on Weight Loss]
My Vitamin D Defficiency
How I Got My Vitamin D into the Sweet Spot
... Read more

Tuesday, 9 March 2010

Primal Weekend at Lake Vyrnwry

In case you are wondering, this is pronounced 'Lake Vern-ree', or at least that's close enough to avoid being laughed at by the locals.

The Welsh don't go in for easy-to-pronounce names, a fact comically illustrated by the spectacle of Mrs M trying to read out the names of villages as she navigated from the road atlas during the journey.

For anyone looking for a superb weekend holiday destination in Wales, they could do a lot worse than this. There are links in the main article.

The highlights of the weekend were:
  1. A gonad achingly cold wild swim, lasting all of 30 seconds.
  2. Some primal/paleo meals, interspersed with a fast - not easy when Mrs M is making liberal use of room service under your nose.
  3. A long, slow run (or persistent hunt) around the lake, starting pre-dawn and covering forest, hills and road.
I've posted a full write up of the swim, run and meals, with photos on Train Now Live Later.... Read more