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why they do not work at NASA

There are works that one can do and others do not.
I work no liability, for example.
do not talk about responsibility in general, those responsibilities can weigh up and deal with a cigar in his mouth, his eyes serious and staid hero.
so I can take responsibility my time, so to speak.
For those I'm in, no problem, so if I can carve out a few minutes between one and the other crap I always find a way to blame someone. The responsibilities
real ones, however, do not let me look. Those things that are worth living and are decided on the edge of a razor, so to speak. Type "do this in Piso end of the rope that will keep me hanging on the brink not so much because I know that the spring". Or "leave it to the Flat delicate task to calculate the trajectory of the space shuttle re-entry, who could not make the mistake of a degree that will bounce the astronauts in the infinite sidereal void."
Here, do not ever make mistakes like that. Hello spaceship.
Buttons do not crush, reflexes to keep ready, glasses do not break. I'm clumsy, I think of my cock and I finally gave up a possible career as a ninja.
type that the other day I had to open the door to the very old stove, the one with the handle that glows for scrap.
So I take the pliers with your right hand, I absent-mindedly to something useless like the bitumen sarchiapone of the Andes and I open the door to the left.
smell of chicken, interesting fsssst of the flesh against iron and an evil that I have not found suitable curses.
Please, I do pamper and dress and fingers are almost healed. In addition they are exempted for a couple of days transport of wood for obvious motor deficiencies.
But I can not play anymore, now nothing orchestra and to make matters worse when I look like Sylvester the cat with Tweety's hammer crushes the fingers.
But what is not. All
made me think that my distraction I preclude activities that involve that kind of responsibility. So goodbye jetliner, nuclear power with all those buttons and things like that. Sigh


thank windruffle for the loving care and not having much joked

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the fragility of things

I personally think that the terribly limited time allotted to living things is a terrible insult, and that the world would be a better place if everyone was asked by procedures as correct as possible when and if would like to return part of the unstoppable flow of things. I am not saying
trivial or selfish feelings for the well-justified preference for immortality, but far more altruistic considerations above all - believe me - a practical nature.
My thoughts all'incalcolabile multitude of innocent and defenseless creatures, devoid not only of that indefinable spark of self-consciousness that we call thinking, but even a very simple central nervous system. Not of a type of cognitive ability, the ability to create smaller and philosophies religions that do accept their inevitable demise, imagine paradise packed, Uri rave redemption.
Of those innocent victims who see disintegrate under the eyes and the delicate architecture of celluline vital humors that had learned to call Life.
I speak - and my hand is trembling on the keys to the dismay - my little map of marjoram fall under the destructive fury of entropy, of my beautiful lavender now beyond any possibility of care of my carnivorous plants reduced to keep pathetic caricatures of leftover salad picked up from the garbage.
Ah! What illusion Spring, make plans, buy potting soil, pots get under the illusion of perpetual bloom. What terrible joke the summer, all perfumes, sprouts and basil that you do not time to make the pesto, which are already grown back. All dust, everything went irreversibly.
Life is nothing but a trinket given to children to be immediately resumed. That leaves empty vessels that do not know where to put. The thymus is not doing well, but maybe he resists. Fuck
get myself to buy the jars of dried spices. Even if they know all
invariably oregano.

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E 'General Winter Arrived Finally I finished

Every damn winter lord send me down to the earth springs to mind these words, I comes in the form of pop-up As soon as the temperature drops below a certain level very precisely.
level General Winter, say. The voice-over field of the pop-up is that of a 45 'that I was a child, the kind that you put in my orange mangiadischi.
What I burst a vein if I remember something about that record apart from the voice saying "now is the General Winter."
However, so, like every year if they have not forgotten, has arrived.
This time, only to scorn, I received a warm welcome. The smile that I made is still frozen, I think it will disappear in the spring. I look like Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shining, dammit.
just opened the door I was greeted by a flurry of infested pieces of ice that has not been seen since the days of Saint Seiya , accompanied from deep booming voice of the wind whistling through the trees and flapped windows.
"E 'come the General Winter" - I thought.
Exactly.
E 'sure that I will wake up every morning with the nipples hardened by frost - and I'll drill with the urine cup ice water - curse a thousand times the advent of this severe sir.
For now, I still appreciate the good side, the rest is from July of this aspect merdaviglioso climate. Clean, clear, and pinch the meat that seems alive, thoughts bright as ice.
This morning, the little pissing Zoom I thought the hills a lot. There is this project in which we are committed to continue to take precedence, among other things, and I feel we will keep in orgasm for a while 'time again. But almost feel the gears moving.
So this morning I heard them well, should be on the cold air.
To be honest I found some 'trivial choice of colors. Agreed, beautiful light grazing the green grass that makes it look green. Belli's effettini with clouds and also to cool the wind that makes the waves on the grain (hey I discovered that the wheat is planted in the fall ....: avalanche, or nothing, "came the General Winter." In my

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sine propensity to order, which vibrates peaks of manic perfectionism to depths of abominable sciattoneria, the end of a long and onerous almost always coincides with a period of so-called "detailing."
litter is thrown away, it rearranges the desk, it frees the desktop from the swarms of "new folder1", "New Cratella2", "New Folder N", the zipped files from the "work in progress" and moving in calm certella named "finished work".
Above all, you go around to accuse others "ah, I in the midst the disorder can not work, ready to put everything into a mess until the next peak detailing. In practice
.
After long and exhausting process I ended

site. It 'been a long confinement, after being enslaved from January to today the availability of my friend that I filled out the html, I finally decided to study and jostle to and fro at the end I stood' I'm August . recognize that over is a big word, because in reality in the gallery there are a lot of placeholder waiting to be replaced with actual drawings.
However, the pages are already all there and ready to be updated if necessary, As soon as I re-ordered (And completed) the material to be added ..
After all, as argued already in elementary school with my teacher, what do I need to finish things, so when you get half of them already understand if you can or not ..
I would appreciate your kind feedback in practice, you have left Re: please around even though I think I've cleaned up a bit 'all.
Feel free to express criticism even more exaggerated, so my ego is perfectly capable of filtering whereas detractors as more spirited bastards evil ignoramuses in the pay of the left.

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mechanics

I've always been a modest person, which, together with my other qualities, makes me almost perfect. Along with other amazing quality
I will not bother to stating that there is to accept defeat with decent smile, combined with that to accept the victories with detached indifference.
I always hated the most natural ferocity those who abandon themselves to despair as the first black to appear insignificant losses, however, I believe that part of the mechanics of being alive. Similarly, but perhaps more, you can not stand those who cover scoreggette of jokes and when, for actual or superiority to the whims of fate, they are to excel, even though I recognize that someone does it so well as to be almost funny.
However, these mammoth my two strengths together - repeat - that of modesty, almost jaunty contrast with what many agree that the as - albeit negligible - defect, namely that of not being able to recognize when I am wrong.
I pause to correct this little smear of my character were it not that this event occurs so infrequently that the very thought is a waste of energy.
Anyway. If we combine all this a natural propensity to self-improvement is evident that when I meet someone above me with its quality is easier than taking it as a model rather than break up his photos and throw them in the toilet.
then understand the disappointment when, making a trivial research with the keyword "pencil" (I needed a picture of a pencil), I found 'These two bastards. I have experienced and looking terrified - completely powerless - the feeling of hatred distort my serene features. Attack me from the bottom with sinuous, serpentine slow determination. Hatred and envy. Damn. Scoundrels.



One is almost approachable, maybe if I start to study and test it properly ... has a beautiful hand, and it's not just one of the shows that people in positions of fucking to be an artist. I mean, I like it.







But the other?
How the hell do you draw that? I'm talking about your technique, this man is unattainable. mean, check it out.






The thing that annoyed me most, besides the fact that I have not the foggiest idea how to do certain things to do with the colored pencils, is that the site is so ugly that this must also be a type flashy and a bit obnoxious. Probably a bad person. And most of all, I still despise not even know how to do certain things to do with colored pencils.
I therefore believe that it is not to blame if in the light of all this I think I can take my beautiful sketchbook - Which until recently I was so proud - and judging a merdaccia it into small pieces with a small pair of scissors producing them ugly confetti.
But only after you have thrown the Caran d'Ache in the oven, so the crying child by making stupid scarabocchietti.
Damn.
scoundrels.
I hate you.

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Transfer

The blog "Forum" was transferred to http://pforsterforum.blogspot.com/ . Thank you for understanding

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hostile feelings is going to happen something

Today I have one of those sensations that warn of imminent occasionally. It has the power of a deja-vu but less definable. Fortunately, the problem is not particularly severe, usually my superhuman sense of paranormal events in the future has the accuracy of a weather forecast made in August for Christmas. happens that I scan the horizon for clouds with the haunted look wise decision of the protagonist, a steady gaze that the future can not weaken. The fellow adventurers look at me in suspense, hanging from my lips. I'm too sure of myself because I can only think that wrong, so everyone is standing around ready to glean a few crumbs of wisdom that can roll out of the pockets. Then I look straight in the eye of the storm and finally utter the words that they know of prophecy: "He's about to happen."
Everyone looks at me, then the horizon, then back to me.
wait.
still waiting.
someone sits down. Others are scratching, itching in the grip.
a bus, refuse, people doing their things.
One who asks to move because he has to leave the car. The first true break your cock and leave. At the end of the last of them sent me to piss off, me and my something is going to happen and goes to do anything that you do not listen.
With the forecast does not take us. But still, today I feel like cashing out your back when you know you are going to give a schiaffazzo neck. In fact I left a bit 'in the balance of things there, lately I have some gaps in the organization of things, I would not want me falling stack of cups on the feet.
Not that I face problems eh, the glasses you buy it again. Though.
Perhaps this is just disgusting gray weather in October. It is unfair that now appears in October, below September, I tripped on the sill is without my having even bothered to look.
There are woods to see, mushrooms, sunsets, sunny days, the smell of grapes and wine. Robe from September on. But today I think of those winter days that you wake up in the dark, and I miss you all in the shadows you realize that it is already evening. Give me back my settembe
brighter, smells, warm colors, yellow and brown.
I am not made for this gray.
How far is the spring? However
listen, something is going to happen.

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Victory Announced Entropy

a lively intelligence but too inconsistent, at least what my teacher said to me, I recognize that in fact I find it hard to concentrate on one thing for too time. Which, as a side effect, implies a certain disorder in my property in general and in particular in my habitat.
I'll never have a house constantly tidy, with sporadic incidents in which everything is perfectly in place alternating periods of large items and clothing to launch air and let gravity take care of it. But

The times when I take the frenzy reach levels that many others experience only during the Easter and other rare occasions.
reordering things on the shelves, I divide the books by genre and place them on shelves in order of height. I fold clothes for men, women and children, moving furniture, plants poto, shine shoes, format their computers, fix notebooks old elementary school. Rearrange the grains of gravel, uprooting weeds, fix metrics, sew buttons. And not satisfied with asphalt roads, power problems unfortunate country, straighten bananas. In a whirlwind in which I feel solver reorganizing the hand of God bring peace and justice where before there was not. And in the end, sweaty but happy, I look around with the air show winner, now ready to put everything into a mess for other long months.
Today was the turn of the garden, up to an hour ago it bombed a cemetery, with limbs sticking out of the bushes, uncovered tombs and other things much more unpleasant. She descended the stairs with a pitch and sounding proud as a conqueror I frown rash on no man's land invaded by weeds, and the sound of a rake and shears I started to fight the chaos that has long been there undisturbed Panza, often rumbling with toast and whores.
After two hours of hard work - seven blacks bags full of leaves and excrement of Zoom as big as human skulls - do a little break, I lean on the rake like a sword planted in the field of battle victorious, and - surprise! - Everything was almost as before, a hell of poverty plagued thieves and murderers. In the large
I had just freed from leaves and poo there was a colossal amount of foliage varied almost identical. And as I look at amazed that the damn laurel me renewed carnage settles to the ground at least twenty leaves, gently, stealthily the coward, with that attitude of "who, me?" that is so angry. And toward that paralyzed him the apple that
TUD - TUD
throws me a couple of those wood inedible apples. A me almost at the foot rolls and stands there, mocking. Now, aside from the insolence of both gestures - which indicate a level of rudeness and nastiness almost unacceptable - all that I slammed in my face all the futility of sweeping leaves when there are still billions ready to fall as soon as I turn . And the sadness of the human condition and so on.
There is no escape, we are forced to succumb to the overwhelming forces of entropy, despite all our efforts weeds invade our streets, the skyscrapers crumble, swords rust and become dust.
And as if that were not enough the universe will expand so cool in a cold immensity without life, where everything finally will rest in the state of lower energy which he had always aspired, with all that this entails.
The icing on the cake of my thoughts the little Zoom

takes place on a pile of leaves still to be packaged with care and there lies a package of excrement the size and shape of a cake Trunks, what which reminds me that Christmas is coming, winter is approaching and I have not yet done wood. As can serve. disgusted I leave the gear and I go, I admit defeat. Today
bighellonerò home because everything is futile, and if the universe decides to go out today I do not care, I got my back now prepared to accept it.
Ah yes.

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excessive use of vanilla

I did not taste too much too refined for most things are more or less tolerant as a Commissioner or a rubbish Shrek.

- alone -

should add at once that this statement has no value in the love life (yes, with age you learn the arts of moderation and diplomacy).
However in the remainder follow a few simple rules, unfortunately not all set out by myself but soon taken in my arsenal of phrases. Type
about the wine, the rule is "the important thing is not that good but it hurt," but concede that the definition of adolescence, and perhaps dates back to the pacifier should aggionarnata.
Referred to film production say that a film has to answer two fundamental questions:
"fuck? You shoot? "
If the answer is NO to any of these questions is to be ascribed to the production of the documentary category, and then to a whole new assessment system which I do not care.
As for the food are very very picky: if there are shitty half of eggplant is all ok. Just do not you have me in those ways queers of the French, with four carrots and a sprout of fuck. I hate those dishes where
constipated do not have time to say 'good' is sauce "which is already over.
prefer males piattazzi agnolotti, ladle stew, soles of cold cuts, potato chip architectures, dense cohorts of peas. I support Pride onion, garlic lively, pugnacious of red pepper, parsley agility.
, the board is a place for diplomacy, misrepresentation, shameful denial of identity. You can not ask a pepper to be less pepper and a little 'more - we - smoked cheese, or to pose a shallot asparagus. The board is to place chest out and names shouted out loud: I AM A CABBAGE!
No half measures, the breading must be boldly trodden gravel crunch as amphibians, filled the crevices as spurting lava from a volcano, as devastating floods poured seals in flavor. The gloat
custard with layers and layers of pancakes.
No, because the other night we were like at midnight with "I want to know something but do not know what", and since the only thing we had at home were eggs, half a bottle of milk, Flour is a luxurious vanilla smell delicious, we included in the computer and it turned out we could do a certain number of pan-cakes (recipe Maffa-marine) and a fair amount of cream for garnish.
Now, ignoring that I made a custard from noisy orgasm, admits that what I have written so far was to give some background justifying the fact that I'm turning into a damn fat disgusting and the fact that the main causes are snacks midnight like this:

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I get bored and Icon Forge

periods of inactivity longer than a handful of hours I make it extremely dangerous.
I would of course point out that for periods of inactivity
mean periods of time when no one is actively forcing me to carry out tasks. Why is not idle in the strict sense is alien to me, I would be able to sit on the couch to read for days if only in those days I had a commitment. When you do not have it in inactivity is close to me, and that's where it becomes dangerous. In my house has always generated a mad stampede to the first signal that insignificant soft languid way in which the body is gently but abandoned the inquisitorial eye wanders in search of new activities. From an early age.
I break the balls and then I felt like, say, build puppets. Obviously no one at home knew a fucking how to make puppets, and then - I'll see - overturned drawers looking for saws, I would send mothers to buy plywood, exhumed from dusty sarcophagi tempera Giotto to realize that - damn it - were not in order of color and lacked the more cadmium yellow, and then to adjust my color the afternoons, and my brushes, then pennies to buy the cadmium yellow, then doodles of marionettine, then do not feel like I left everything and where it was and my mother hit me.
Once I built with a parachute cord and sheets were old and maybe new but my grandmother did not stand over me and has given me the same, then I tried it from the roof of the garage neighbors. I found in that case that the difference between an impact on the ground with parachute cord and sheets without a parachute and impact of twine and linen is hardly noticeable.
Another time I was determined to build galleons of paper. Galleons tiny, well made, with trees like toothpicks and lots of wires and guns of toothpicks as well. Those were my own good, I learned the principle of building the spaceship Argo Captain Abata from a model that was released at newsstands. I expanded the concept throughout another lazy summer as such to this, turning my grandmother's house into a nightmare in which such establishments exploded in a whirlwind of Fabriano paper and toothpicks.
I also went to the library to take a lot of books on ships and galleons, and I became very competent bridges, rigging, rigging and names of ships and captains important. He is fluent in like an old sea dog full of grog and syphilis.
What good is that from my periods of boredom is the induced effects. I never finished it was a puppet one, but I was the only fucking school child, and to use a saw and know that it was Nelson's flagship the Victory, I assure you.
Except that I have problems with memory in the short, medium and long term, now I can do a lot of other things, and build a parachute.
For fun, of course, I would not never throw anyone with a parachute made by me.
However these days I was bored and I've fixed the computer. It was not a
Veria boredom of those dangerous, but the effects are tightening and probailmente unmount the houses soon to depict a portrait of a cantilever Paperoga. Meanwhile
throw things away, or compress other, organize files, backup and do - God ugly icons!
I scarricato a bit 'of new icons. It was inevitable.
For now I have about 14,000, but I have not everyone is willing to browse them all, so for now the ones I found I graced my desktop.
disclose witness.



As you will have the Network Neighborhood a very ancient icon that Windows wife is ill with the black shiny pc the My Computer, which causes me discomfort. Leafing through the
14000 new icons that I have not even found one with attractive graphics, such as two computers joined to imply that blacks are happily a network, or something.
And the three hard drives, so gray and sad, I'm not satisfied at all, as well as the subfolders, which all have names that you can not find an icon, like the Old Robba folder, or my site, cause I many problems.
So I've got a software to make icons, Icon Forge 7, so I will not have gleaned more from the vastness of the network-cards trying to attach stickers to the polyhedral trivial events of my hard disk.
But it is not so straightforward as I thought, and there are a lot of things you should know that I did not know, and now I have to study the manual, and until I have all the icons on the pc as I want it all I seem sad and without any personality.
I hate when I'm bored.

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Air

It 's a dark and stormy morning. The rain beats on the window sills and cheerful terrace tiles and curtains flapping like sails in the wind. The door on its hinges groan.
The temperature is a little too low for the low coverage of the thin layer sheets of summer, but bear it willingly knowing that until October will be the best you can ask in terms of thermal conditions. Therefore I'm turning in blankets. And launch into the sky a silent sincere welcome to the angry clouds. Quiet Girl, there is room for all, make yourself at home, sfogatevi, rage, run far and wide, you are welcome. Make yourself comfortable. This is called bassopiemonte do not know if you were already there. Beautiful hills, but people are a bit 'strange. I can not give you anything, empty fridge, a few vegetables, no wine. Today, only water, the one that brought you. Aah
the rain water that washes everything clean air, format the appearance of the surrounding area. I crucible of good feelings until I comes to mind that the clouds are friendly and keen on the clothes hanging on the keyboard that someone left me on the terrace. I
I erect a miraculous stroke of the kidneys and semi-nude on the terrace remedy.
At the end of four minutes tormented wet back home to realize that the day started without telling me, telephones, mail, mailman and stuff to do.
Terga scratching as you would expect every adult male I just wake up the situation and draw conclusions. Neatly categorized by points:

- Today is the first day of vacation. What is an arbitrary definition, shall we say, because the bottom is not that ... In short, the situation is a bit 'is unique and I do not know if I have to cheer.
And it's not your holiday, today we still have to do even if you do not talk about difficult things, whether paid or the result of coercion. But the air last day of school has slipped from the windows along with that of the summer storm, and when the clouds have stopped making the noise remained. Subtle.
Okay, the first day off is tomorrow, not today. Today is Saturday in the village, if you will, the day that the last bell rings, they greet their friends. The holiday is tomorrow, tomorrow. So I correct:

- Today is the eve of the first day of vacation. Others prepare itineraries. I'm looking for is time. I can think of poetic images. I sniff the wind of the storm that he has just gone, and I envy him. The infamous arrives, is a blizzard, thunder and lightning and then immediately have fun somewhere else. Now tonight will already be in Eastern Europe, where - in brackets - the belief that with a pair of tights you want those goals is a powerful tight. Ahaha, I laugh in the face to the wind. If you go there for what will be disappointed. But the satisfaction was thin, I feel like a seagull, with broken wings - which sees the other and fly away and leave him there with tears. Ah, but fuck it, I enjoy the same here, not I need you, you will see how many things I can do. Now I'm struck an image of my holiday. I fart and I do laugh alone. The poetic images of frustrated travelers disappear and never come back, annihilated by the prosaic pop-up in which mental fart and laugh. Are replaced by thoughts on how to deal holidays without a single currency. So.

- is not going anywhere, apart from a lot of places very close, the alternatives can be developed only within the walls of the house, I think. Games to play, what you occhei. Find games. Cards, company, pc. Sex, that fills time and gives a lot of satisfaction. Well, add to the list. Nothing material for lunch or dinner worthy of the name, and then glossing over mealtimes. Mark. Film. Of course to be taken in the library that is free. Paint home. It brings to mind images where they paint the walls, then by a stroke on the nose of your playful girl who takes revenge and pulls you a can of paint and then you end up having sex colorful. Sex. Ah already sealed. Umm dannazione.Non I can think of nothing else?


E 'possible? I have a great imagination. Great, I swear. My elementary school teacher used to say at all. "We do not undertake, always has his head in the clouds. It draws on the bench. Great imagination. "
Well, now I get the taste of the challenge, the Sardinian side of my head is ready to receive the blows of fate. By God, is not the first time I have-nots holidays. And I loved those summers as those we travel with the sun in his face. They were the summers when rearranged, rummaging in the basement, inventing, I thought. And then I changed. Summers were beautiful, really, even with the window closed, a lot of silence and all those thoughts. The only thing that changes is that I'm around are not alone ..
It creeps me thinking about this last idea from the ingrown dazzling brilliance. Hey, but st'estate are not alone! It 's a great discovery and I'm proud of me. I am not new to find the genre, the other day I discovered the hot water, for example. The fact is that the mechanisms of thought are hard to change, and mine, as I said, are thoughts from Sardinia, stronger than those of others. We must move with patience and careful attention, as if they were sticks from Shanghai. I realize that the analogy sucks but I have a lot of headaches. I woke up too fast and too bad.
But basically, I said, I found that they are not alone. I only won by promising bad summers, and this time we are even two! Three if you count a dog.
I feel much better, despite the headache. I feel that summer will be memorable. One of those that think, and you collect, and make yourself strong and you train your quads and measure ravines with his eyes.
Then in September ready to make prodigious leaps.
And we are even in two, you think? Never happened. That is, never happened to me I heard one of two, not that ... well. Indeed. I'm going to try a
Aulin ..

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Hepatitis C: Self-study continuing

(see also Nov.22_04 & Apr.17_05)

Approx two months after the addition of prescription fish oil phytotherapy, the values have again improved, so that when the doctor moves away a treatment with interferon. Here are the results: #

http://www.pforster.ch/terapie/epatiteC/EpatCTerapCarm.htm June

Peter Forster

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One of my students after a month of self-study I wrote the following lines on its systematic Study: Some Reflections on

procedure of the study as a self-taught
* Time - lesson (45 minutes daily). I noticed that at the moment is the maximum time to concentrate on.
* 5 min. To begin with, the resumption of what we saw (there are less visual and auditory) above.
* 35-40 min. to learn new content evtl. diagram to show (if visual) the network of concepts, associations, etc. operations. * Documentation
readings
* 5 min. synthetic form of the main points of what they have learned (in writing) the final summary (abstract). Evtl. diagrams explaining operations
* questions to ask myself at the end time of the study (summary)
I thought these ideas could be used for other students.

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Fever and calf wraps

I received the following request by a mom with a child who suffered from bacterial infections with fever. Judged to be of common interest and with the consent of the mother audience here:

dear Peter, you
as I mentioned, I have a problem with the packs for the calves to get a fever. Raphael had fever of 39.1 and was not well. I did then compresses as described (feet and hands were warm compresses and change every 8-10 minutes). After 30 minutes, Raphael was 38.5 and after another 35-40 minutes the fever has risen to 38.9. Why? I have done something wrong? I made too long? In any case, after 3 hours the temperature dropped and then disappeared.
Today, Raphael 40.4. I again made the packs and 15 minutes after Raphael was 40.3. After another half hour instead of going down the fever rose to 40.5. I stopped, Raphael has stayed, and after 2 hours the temperature dropped to 39.8. Why? it is possible that the effect of wraps happen later? Many greetings



Cara Tiziana Tiziana,
To fully understand how they work compresses the calves to adjust the temperature, we must study the relationships between production and heat loss path and the temperature. For the real answer to your question look pf the following link: Heat and temperature: http://www.pforster.ch/Tutoria/FebbreImpacchi/FebbreImpacchi.htm

To deepen the discussion of fever and illness Infectious I recommend consulting the following pages: *
regulation of body temperature MMP http://www.pforster.ch/yMmP/9/MmP 9.3% 209_3.htm
* Soft tissue disorders and MMP 7 http:/ / * www.pforster.ch/yMmP/7/Indice.htm
treatment of infectious diseases MMP 7.1 http://www.pforster.ch/yMmP/7/MmP 7_1.htm
* Training: General diseases 1.1% PT infectious http://www.pforster.ch/ydisp/PT 201_1.htm
* Pediatrics PD 1: From infant to child http://www.pforster.ch/yPD/yPD1/IndicePD1.htm
* Pediatrics PD 1.3: Fever and chills http://www.pforster.ch/yPD/yPD1/PD1_3.htm
* Pantry: Fever and chills http://www.pforster.ch/MedPop/cap_3.htm

Good luck Peter

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Hypoglycemia regulatory

Today I received the following questions. I think they are of common interest.

Good evening, I would ask
information on the relationship between insulin and glucose absorption
:
I read on a website that insulin is released from the pancreas
when blood glucose reaches a level of about 7 mmol / l also in the "Thibodeau"
I found a reference around the 7 / 7, 5 mmol / l, I wondered
a person who follows a diet with complex carbohydrates, protein and fat preference, will have a tendency to
about low blood glucose around 6.5 mmol / l and then
produce little insulin, so I wonder how do cells to pull in glucose
if you do not receive the message from 'insulin? consequently a hypoglycemic
will tend to have a shortage of glucose into the cells?
How can corregere this (so long as it is) by adding at meals
a small portion of food with a high glycemic index
to stimulate the production of insulin?
Allow me a second question, there is a relationship between hypoglycemia and poor regulatory
production of bile from the liver?
thank you in advance, regards ____.

Think carefully about questions; are own way. If you want to compare your answers with mine: there are about 050,417 http://www.pforster.ch/Tutoria/TraspGlucidi/TraspGlucidi.htm

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Hepatitis C: after nearly six months


After nearly six months of treatment, unfortunately the situation does not occur anymore promise as soon after the start of treatment: the transaminase rose again, even if no longer on the levels of September '04.

The client asks if you need to start treatment intercom. We advise you to wait with the decision for a few months, since the results of biopsy and clinical findings are not alarming. Council to add to the care described above:

Adding Rp. Hepatitis C
Oleum Piscis 100
DS ingest 1 to 2 cucciai tea per day (50-10 grams) of fish oil with a meal.

Peter Forster


PS If you want details please visit:
http://www.pforster.ch/terapie/epatiteC/EpatCTerapCarm.htm