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Gonorrhea is one of the highly infectious sexually transmitted disease. Gonorrhea is caused by certain from of bacteria called Neisseria gonorrhoeae. Gonorrhea infection thus increases the risk of one being infected by HIV (human immunodeficiency virus, a virus which causes AIDS). When gonorrhea affects men it first infects the epithelium column of the urethra. Gonorrhea is transmitted to the vagina of the women through sexual intercourse, as the cervix in women is considered as the prone site of getting affected by gonorrhea from the male sex organs. Gonorrhea thus only spreads through the process of sexual intercourse. Gonorrhea also has the possibility of being transmitted to the new born child from the infected mother during the time of delivery thus causing the infants to suffer from eye infections. Spread of gonorrhea to the newborn babies is a rare case at present as babies eyes are protected through application of some eye medicines.
“But how does gonorrhea affects or spreads into the women body cells?” is a basic question which needs to be answered. Gonorrhea spreads into the fallopian tubes of the women thus resulting in inflammatory diseases in the pelvic region. But when a woman is sexually abused, it is more likely that the women will suffers infection in the genital tract or the infant will suffer infection in the mouth or the rectum.
Gonorrhea symptoms can be witnessed in both male and female as it is a sexually transmitted disease, though the symptoms may vary between the male and female sexes. In the women the cervix is generally affected with this disease which is very much contagious and it is transmitted to them from the male folk in the process of sexual enjoyment. Women when gets affected by gonorrhea may experience symptoms like abnormal bleeding, vaginal discharges, irritation at the outer area of the vagina and also may experience burning sensation due the process of urination.
In the opposite sex that is in men, gonorrhea affects the urethra. The symptoms of gonorrhea in men may be experienced through pus like release from the penis tip, urinating frequently, bleeding during the process of urination, sting during urination, swelling glands and also sometimes may experience the head of the penis turning red. When gonorrhea affects the throat or the rectum of both men and women symptoms like pain, discharge and swelling may be witnessed. Thus as gonorrhea is a sexually transmitted disease it is very likely that both the sexes of male and female gets affected by it.
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Sex is a biological process, which is provided by the nature to those species that reproduce sexually. Penis in male and vagina in female are the external sexual organs without which love making is not possible. Proper erection of penis and continuity of erection during the intercourse is essential for enjoying sex by both partners which is the mechanical aspect of the love making. Thus, sex completely can be defined as a bio-mechanical process. No species enjoys sex as frequently as human beings do.
Generally, under social customs, human beings establish sexual relations with the partner to whom they love; however, exceptions also exist. Love provides you a fertile ground for love making but without fulfilling mechanical requirements it is not possible to make love. Nature has provided a man capability to erect penis when he prepares for sexual intercourse. Generally, there is no need for any external stimulation for bringing penis in erect position. This kind of non-stimulated erection is very common in early young age because responses of sex hormones are quick in that phase of life.
However, a mature man may need some foreplay to bring penis in erect position. Foreplay is essential for enjoying sex with high intensity. Tricks of foreplay defers according to matrix of the society. A woman has several erogenous spots over her body; kissing and titillation on those spots can ignite her for sex. In some societies, fingering and licking in vagina are very common; licking can generate irresistible urge for penetrative sex. On other hand, women generally use her hand to erect penis and an experienced woman knows how to erect penis using her mouth and tongue.
There can be a stage in life when penis doesn’t erect even after all intense foreplay. Non-erection of penis makes a man impotent. In medical terminology, non-erection of penis is known as erectile dysfunction (ED). ED generally occurs in mature age when man loses his libido but it also can occur in early young age. ED is very embarrassing for a man as a woman doesn’t want come in contact with such a man who cannot satisfy her. Though ED can occur because of psychological reasons, but in more than 90% cases its cause is physical degeneration.
Levitra can help all those men who are suffering from ED. Levitra pills contain Vardenafil as its active constituent, which stimulates production of GMP. Secretion of GMP takes place to fill the blood in the capillaries of penis. This stimulation and proper flow of blood provides the penis hard and firm erection. Erection of penis provided by Levitra may stay for about 4 hours because Levitra inhibits the working of phosphodiesterase-5 (PDE-5). This is the chemical secretion, which brings back penis in relaxed position and responsible for early fall of penis.
The beneficial drug Levitra may have some mild side-effects like nausea, dizziness, painful erection and chest pain. These side effects are short lived and generally disappear with continuous use of Levitra for few days. This is an oral prescription medication, which should not be used without doctor’s prescription.
4 hours long erection enables a man to quench sexual thirst of a woman many times in a single sexual encounter. Probably she desperately has been waiting for such a satisfaction for a long time.
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The Stone-Builders [By their Weapons]
[Big-chest was a reluctant hero, for the most part, that is, in killing the Stone-Builders; yet when he could, he did so of course, --but I say reluctant I suppose with reluctance; for it was not unlike everyone at this time to be disinclined to kill them, they seemed to be in the vein of the gods, un-killable: yet he killed them and fought them, more so than anyone else—less out of conviction than out of desire to avoid dishonor and social embarrassment for himself.]
Said I [I, being: Short-legs], I had seen one time Big-chest walk into a campsite of theirs, the Stone-Builders that is, —I tried to tell this story to my brother, Stern-toes, once, but I never could explain it right, but I think he got the jest of it, if not the seriousness, we did both laugh at the Stone-Builders for hours on end, afterwards. As I was about to say, myself and Little-eyes witnessed this whole happening from a distance of course. The Stone-Builders were full of what they called: ‘wone, or wine,’ something along that order, some sounds take me back a bit, they had new sounds all the time, yes O yes, inventing new sounds like the growing of leafs on a tree, coming into our brains like new winds, dragging it into a mode of thinking more everyday, instead of being fond of the birds, and just living: eating, sleeping and dying—these words we never heard of before were floating everywhere in the air, ever since that is, the arrival of the Stone-Builders on the scene: before this, before Eve walked out of that Garden, things were dangerous, but much more quiet.
Well, Big-chest, noticed one evening—not being too far in the thick of the foliage by their campsite [the Stone-Builders site]—they had killed a man-eater [lion]; there were four of them, called ‘soldiers,’ at the campfire-site, a resting place to them: just laughing, and drinking, and being playful like a group of little cubs: lion cubs—wild and whimpering [whiny] lion-cubs, that is exactly what they were like. I could see Big-chest laughing to himself—inside that big muscular oversized chest: as he watched them wrestle around with one another, actually they did get a little over physical with one another, like the wild boars whom would chase after one of us, wanting to eat us for a feast, and then they’d settle down again. It was a cold winter’s night that day, so there was a real chill in the air, and not all that much leafy undergrowth for us to hide or for that matter to slap the chill away: nor for that matter Big-chest: although he had a coat of hair all over him to keep him warm anyways—showed a bit of chill in his face also. Although—I was grateful for the few large trees with the plant-life tucked around me, it absorbed some of the wind—the brisk, cold winds seeping by us, around us, and almost through us: the shrubbery covered us, as we remained in the distant woods, with a pile of leaves up to our knees: leaves for warmth and camouflage, --camouflage being a plan incase we figured we’d have to duck, hide ourselves-quickly should they get the best of Big-chest, but we doubted that: Big-chest was just the opposite of us----mean,--plus
as always, Big-chest was confident of his abilities, he stood in the woods, no shadow—not sure what he did with it, but he was cleaver; just a big blob of muscle, hair and sharp eyes, small squinty eyes pinned on the four Stone-Builders, at the camp site, and their man-eater, that was going to be his dinner. He was actually blocking our vision a bit, but I think he did that because he wanted to show his audience—which was us—who was the braver. I actually had some kind of a feeling for those men who were about the meet Big-chest, a gloomy feeling at best, and a thankful feeling: thankful, it was not us in their place; yet both I and Little-eyes, both surely held feelings of revenge for the Stone-Builders, and this was kind of a good time for the revenge to seep out, but I don’t care for revenge for the most part, not really, it takes too much energy, saps you—in review, all was quite mysterious to me.
Then unsuspected, he walked into the camp, tall as a mountain, hairy as a leafy think forest, long, a very long mouth from ear to ear, his teeth showed—he walked reminiscent of the king of the Stone-Builders [I think he was mimicking him—he like to do such things], he must have seen him walk, for he was arched just like their king, head back, eyes slanting down as if they were subordinates; --among the four he crept up, not a word, not a sound, the dark-dragging behind him, the sky had very little light given by the stars, but it followed him overhead none the less, a cloud covered the moon—as if he and Big-chest were pals; now he had seen their weapons by the fire, where the dead lion lay, if anything, Big-chest was shifty: sly, observant: he was swaying his body akin to the huge trees in a storm, not sure exactly why, but I think it got his blood moving and his limbs more flexible for swinging when he used them for clubs—and it made for a good showing: his hands were as big as large branches of a tree: and as hard. Closer and closer he came to the fire, no one noticed him yet, can’t figure it out, no one, no one at all, --could they not hear him a little, just a tiny bit, I asked myself, for both myself and Little-eyes could hear his foot steps even in the woods, at twice their distance, I was about to learn we had better hearing than these new creatures. But then this new breed of course, can not have all the advantages, thank goodness, thus, our senses were better, we were tuned higher one might say, and they were tuned with more and a higher intelligence than we.
His fingers now, almost touching the ground—I could see—he, he had long thick arms, and fingers, and perturbing muscles, he was impressive to look at, huge to digest with your eyes, and frightening if you did not see him on a daily bases, and dangerous to be around, at any time. Then all of a sudden two of the four turned their necks to see what was in back of them; not sure if they heard him, sensed him, or just did out of an automatic military checking ritual,--whereupon, they almost went into shock: two stood up, all four were some fifteen feet from their weapons. The two who were squatting, the closest to the fire, were in a panic, the other two were a little farther away, standing now, unsure, thinking. I think one was releasing himself; he made a puddle and was trying to cover it up by kicking dirt, how modest. I figured why waste your time, this was precious time, run, run, run: that is what I’d do, but I really was hoping they’d not run, I must have an evil side in me also, just like them; you know, they got this pride thing, and I was hoping they would stay with this pride and arrogance, and then as I stopped thinking for a moment, Big-chest knock it out of them, if that is, they had any pride left. I think I was starting to get like them, that being: aggressive thoughts.
In any case, Big-chest took his right hand swung it backwards to build up momentum, and with the force of a giant tree, hit the head of one of the squatters as he was about to stand up, it sounded faintly similar to thunder, and I could hear it snap, and rip, similar to a timber falling after lightening strikes it, strikes a tree out of its roots, its stretching roots out of the ground. He fell on his chest, then pushing himself, flopped over and onto his shoulder as if it had nothing holding his head in place, like a dead fish flopping, jumping in a creek—he lost his inner breath. The other one tried to get to his weapon, but Big-chest, akin to lightening, jumped with one leap over to him, picked him up by one leg, his penis showing, as Big-chest looked strangely at it, as if to laugh at a small ugly worm, for they all liked covering them up for some odd reason, and Big-chest now must have figured out, he knew why. And we both in the bushes started to giggle, snicker, laughing at the sight—I wanted to say laugh again—but we had to hold our laughing inside our stomachs for a while, so as not to spoil his feat. Then after our expressions of amusement, a stern grin appeared on Big-chest’s face—I think he heard us—in any case, he tossed him into the fire when he got bored looking at him, after twisting him about for a few seconds, breaking his leg in several places I imagine, for I kept hearing crunches, as if bones were cracking, and then there was his screams.
Then one of the two standing routed himself through the woods yelling something on the order of: “Hhhhh eel pppp...!” Not sure what that meant. The last one, I call him the brave one, or definitely I could call him the stupid one, or should I say foolish one, none-the-less, he pulled out a sharp object, about the length of his hand, and stood in front of Big-chest as if he was going to fight him. At this point I said, and Little-eyes thought: this was the end for him; he [the soldier] looked like a banana compared to Big-chest. I asked myself, ‘Is he crazy? Run, and run while you can,’ and I was on Big-chest’s side now, more than ever, but it didn’t sound like it for that split-moment, but I felt it was a little unfair, size and all. But the man, whom I am calling a brave-soldier, stood his ground, and actually looked at Big-chest in the eyes. My-gosh, the man must have been half his size, about 175 pounds, quick on his feet though, for he was dancing around Big-chest, trying to stab him, and poke him. He looked more like a bee trying to sting someone, but that just irritated him more. Big-chest had taken arrows out of himself one-hundred times before, I bet; arrows deeper than that knife would have ever penetrate, if the person had gotten a chance to lunge it into Big-chest, and he didn’t get that chance: and it never hurt him much: those pokes. These little wounds were nothing, --but should he leap and get a good stab possible in the upper chest of Big-chest, or eye, then I’d worry.
To make a long story short: Big-chest just looked dumfounded at the figure in front of him dancing in a circle, and didn’t move very much, except around; I’ve seen Little-eyes close his eye-lids now, he knew, he knew what was about to happen, and with his waving quick long arms, Big-chest picked up the seven foot lionesses, and put it over his shoulder, the crazy Stone-Builder charged at him, and Big-chest with a quick sweep, with a turn, knocked the man flat on his back, onto the ground, he had hit him with the man-eater, as he balanced it over his shoulder. Then, somewhat, disparate, or so it seemed, reminiscent of a dying fish jumping about trying to get back into the water—he: Big-chest—kicked him in the mid-section of his belly, sweeping him into the fire like trash, now almost a dead fish. The Soldier could not move, he surely had a broken spine I thought, had he not, he would had gotten up and run fast out of the fire, and he didn’t: or couldn’t, for Big-chest couldn’t run with the man-eater on his shoulder so it was a good time to escape, if he could. But he didn’t, or couldn’t, nor do I think he intended to. But again, the man tried to move out of the fire with no suitable means other than his arms which were now on fire, for surely his ribs and legs were broken. Big-chest simply turned away from him as if he was insignificant, as I did myself. The defeat was predictable, and most unnecessary. I got thinking: what kind of creature fights when they cannot compete. It has always been the law of the land—to run, unless cornered: hence, when you can’t battle, don’t. It wasn’t necessary to die like that. I was learning about pride and arrogance quickly from these new creatures though; all in time and observation I told myself, and I’d be well informed on their unusual habits.
11
Early winter
We had no way of knowing which winter would be good to us or bad for us, and winter this particular winter had come early, and therefore our food supply was exhausted, depleted that is, rather quickly. When Little-eyes and I returned back to the cave the following evening, we had told in our symbolic way: expressed at the Banana Cave that is, to the entire Horde how Big-chest had killed the Eve People. And you could hear the laughter for miles around. I tried to explain how Big-chest had seen or sensed their movements, their evil objective, and their killing intent: as he always seemed to be able to sense survival quite well; he had a special quality of seeing through a person to his evil side, as he could see through us, thus, he could see through the Stone-People as well. I explained how one of the men stayed to fight him, trying to outstare Big-chest, and got kicked into the fire, and died. They all shook their heads in wonderment, we were not the smartest of the inhabitants of earth, but that was sure dumb we all thought, no vocal language was needed for that understanding or response. I think Big-chest had taken his trophy to his cave in our area, and was having a formal meal at this time. We liked anyone who could out smart the Stone-People I suppose, they were smug and we were helpless to them most of the time; they had well groomed weapons, and we had simply rocks and some clubs, along with a few sharpened stones, as they now were being called, knifes, up to the appearance of the Stone-People, they were just tools. And so it felt good if anything, good to see the odds turn for once, and to be frank, they didn’t turn much, if ever in our favor after that episode. But our surprise would come in the morning: --yes, we would not be forgotten for once.
Morning
In the morning when several of us looked out of our cave entrances, in the center of the canyon below our cliff dwellings, as we often did to be sure we were safe from man or beast, in the open area in the valley below us, we saw half a lion torn open, lying in the center of our domain, for us, it was a treasure, a gift, a donation if anything, and all of us quickly ran to eat what meat Big-chest had left for us. Big-chest was not always so generous, or kind, but for some odd reason, he knew we were starving for some protean, and our bodies were starting to show our ribs. Aimless to say, this never happened again—not in such a quantity, but we all gave Big-chest a super big smile as we walked proudly out of our canyon-caves and ate the raw meat [for he appeared standing erect by a cave entrance observing the feast he provide]; yes, some of us even were tarring at the red meat, animal protein, liken to wolfs.
12
The Hermit by the Sea
It was a short period of time from when Big-chest appropriated the lion [took it from the Stone-Builders] and we all ate the meat, when I joined the Horde in the valley on a crisp morning—a morning that told me, the seasons were about to change, thus, leading into spring; I could see my breath: it was so brittle, so I knew winters end was near. There was great commotion in the valley below, as there often was when someone or something new came about to celebrate, I had noticed from my cliff dwelling a gathering of the Horde, looking down, I quickly dashed along the sides of the cliff until I reached the floor of the valley to see what it was, as did Little-eyes, as I had woke him, trying to explain a happening was taking place.
Thin-hips of the Horde [Sister to Moss]
When I reached the bottom and many of the folk were going to and fro, some with sad and hungry faces, very sad posture, I made my way through several folks now gathered around this one section of the cliff; old-Moss, the Hermit by the Sea, was laying dead, his sister, Thin-hips, was there pacing, walking back and forth, kind of chanting, humming something, sounds on top of sounds—death had waxed his face I noticed. Old Moss was the oldest folk I had ever known, ever heard of. He must have been 60 or 65 years old—I doubt Big-chest was that old. No one ever lived that long, no one that is but Moss, I suppose. You could tell by looking at him, half his death was caused by starvation, the other by his long walk back to the Valley of the Caves, the strenuous walk; a walk many took to come back when they felt their time was short on this ground, like some fish, we all seem to know our dying ground; he came from the far off place, called the Great Cliffs by the Sea. I had only seen him when I was a kid and then once or twice coming and going, within a twenty-year period. He lived in the sand hills far from the Horde as I was saying, to the extreme East, and not far from there to the south was the Great Sea and the cliffs he always told his sister about, much larger than ours, higher than ours he’d say. He add, this place was somewhere between the Sea, and the cliffs, and the strait, and this valley was a flat area, plateau, this is where he wondered off too often, or so he’d claim, upon his return. He knew my father quite well, Long-arms, and did visit him, it was always when I was gone it seemed. They appeared to get along quite well, as one might expect, two strange folks to say the least; not sure what they had in common, matter of fact, if anything, one was lazy—my father, the other, Moss, was quite active I heard.
The Great Sea
But he did bring back information to his sister, who shared it with us, and of course he’d tell other people also of his journeys, or try to describe them best he could, and we were all quite interested in his tales—it was entertainment: yes he was a man of tales, I guess in one way I admired him for that, it was almost like some of the occupations the Stone-Builders had, or called occupations, which were really doing things by order of their king and getting fed by someone else because of the king—strange. Thus, Moss was our entertainer, and Moss did get fed by most of the Horde’s residents for doing so, I think they’d call him in to their cave to hear him talk, or draw pictures, or act out his strange adventures. Half the time we never knew what he was saying, but then, so what and it was amusement. Everyone liked him, and so did I.
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At the risk of insulting the nearly 8,700,000 residents of the Garden State, I should explain that I was raised along the Jersey shore. I graduated from Red Bank High and spent many summers at the Driftwood Beach Club in Sea Bright. But as soon as I could muster the courage, I left that overcrowded, haven for the Sopranos, behind in 1976, and moved to the desert resort community of Scottsdale, Arizona. It only took a few years to rid myself of the telltale Eastern accent and acclimate to sunny days, wide-open spaces, and toll-free roadways.
While I’ve only touched on some of the reasons I departed the home of cranberry bogs and Bruce Springsteen, suffice it to say I left also left my snow shovel in the garage when I sold the house and never looked back. After all, winters in Scottsdale average near 70 degrees. I did enjoy a few aspects of shore living but not enough to keep me there. But enough about that part of the country. This article is really about what makes us crazy. Being from NJ was a beginning, but not entirely responsible for my current disabled behavior.
I don’t remember much about the Jersey drivers but I imagine they can’t be much worse than what I encounter daily in the West. It amazes me how most got their licenses. Was there some sort of online exam they could take that I missed? What else could account for their immature, uncourteous, lack of skills, and common sense? How can someone drive with no apparent realization that there are actually other drivers on the road? How can they make unique turns, sudden stops, and disturbing instantaneous speed changes that defy most laws of physics? I’m obviously one of the only drivers not vision-impaired and somewhat conscious of most of the rules of the road. That’s some sort of disability in itself, if one is to survive the snarl of unending traffic.
Another problem I possess is the inability to express myself properly. The other day I pulled into a well-known, fast-food, place’s drive-thru and ordered my usual ‘chicken taco salad.’ I assume they heard me because they asked if I wanted “haormadsews” which I translated on prior trips to say, “hot-or-mild sauce.” I declined, as I always do, and picked up my order. As I pulled away, I peered into the bag to discover a cheeseburger with fries. Why would that include “haormadsews” anyway, I thought? Pulling back around, I now spent and additional twenty minutes going into the restaurant, waiting in line and finally getting my correct order. Instead of apologizing, the clerk inform me I must have said something that sounded like “cheeseburger.” To which I replied, “Chicken taco salad” could, if one were, say, Chinese, sound EXACTLY like “cheeseburger.” Chalk up disability number three.
I have to admit that I have a fourth disability that is equally troublesome: failure to recognize the true problem. I’ve purchased a variety of domains and hosting sites online and had numerous problems. When I call for technical support usually one of the following occurs. I wait on hold for 30 minutes to discover the office is closed and I’m invited to leave a number or visit their site for FAQ’s or technical assistance. I’ve left many messages, which were ignored, so I call back. Now I get a nice gentleman named Sabu in Bombay, India. Although he is quite polite, he has an accent that could bring Professor Henry Higgins to his knees. I ask him to repeat every answer many times and still can’t figure out what he’s saying. Eventually, I realize the futility of the situation and hang up. Then he sends an e-mail apologizing for the communication problem and detailing my real problem: my computer’s probably out of memory.
So I dash to my local computer dealer (another national chain) and they sell me more memory. Back home, nothing works. I return to the shop and they sell me a new hard drive. Home again, still no luck. Four hundred dollars and several other parts later, they tell me to get a whole new computer and no, they won’t give me a refund on the “used” parts they sold me just two days ago. So I bite the bullet, buy a new computer, but not from them, the greedy #$%@*!
So maybe this counts as disability five: the one where I can’t see when I’m getting taken to the cleaners and have “sucker” stamped on my forehead.
I have a plethora of other disabilities that cause me daily consternation: I’m stupid, at least according to some relatives (although I possess two degrees); cheap, according to e-mails offering penis enlargements that I won’t purchase; not financially smart, because I ignore all the refinance-your-mortgage offers I receive in the mail (even though I don’t have a mortgage); and ignorant, because I purchased a pathetic Civic instead of a hot Hummer and laugh about rising gas prices (it also helps that I work out of the home and hardly drive at all).
So, with all these disabilities, it’s hard to believe I can function at all. I must have no life or chose to be oblivious to everything that goes on around me. Yet, even with these flaws, I will continue to attempt to order salads and troubleshoot computer glitches. Did I forget to mention I just got back from the Post Office with a small package that was prepaid for a return? After the clerk got off the floor from laughing so hard at the two-dollar postage on the label, I just had to ask what was the matter. Then he then told me it would be another five dollars and what the heck was I thinking? That’s about par for the course, I reckon.
That said, I still will not allow a few behavioral problems to keep me from my daily functions. So join with me in my crusade to overcome our disabilities and strive for our survival. In my particular case, it’s my way of saying to the world, “even though I’m from Jersey, I can take everything you can dish out!”
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Question: Have plastic food and beverage containers been proven safe?
Answer: No.
During the film's graduation party in THE GRADUATE, Mr. McGuire pulls Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman) aside to offer sage advice for his future. His future would be one word: "plastics."
Of course, we all know Mr. McGuire's advice and prognostication was correct. Plastics can only be made by man in his infinite wisdom, hence they are patentable. The profit in the manufacture of plastics has been huge. Plastics are everywhere. Plastic manufacturing now uses 4% of the world's oil production annually. Automobiles are now 9% plastic. It is of my special concern that more foods and beverages are being put into plastic containers. Plastics are ubiquitous now. They persist and accumulate in our society as their production exceeds their chemical degradation rate. Harmful chemicals from plastics are now commonly found in groundwater, waterways, and drinking water.
While standing out in the summer heat in Phoenix, Arizona in 1981, my girlfriend asked me what was causing the film to form on the inside of the windshield of her new Mazda 626. She said that she had to wipe it off every morning so she could see to drive to work. I didn't know then. I do now! It was phthalates, the chemical that was added to the plastic dash cover to soften it and prevent cracking. I'm sure by now most of the phthalate has evaporated into our atmosphere and the Mazda is in some junkyard with a cracked up dash.
Phthalates are EDC's (Endocrine Disrupting Chemicals.) They are chemicals found in recycle codes #1 through #6 plastics. Another EDC (Bisphenol A) is in recycle code #7 plastics. All of these types of plastic EDC's interfere with the function of sex hormones receptors. In THE GRADUATE Benjamin was quite a stud. I wonder if he's now taking one of the popular drugs to treat erectile dysfunction, a disorder that has become one of the many epidemics in our new plastic world.
In 2003 a group of Croatian scientists reported that phthalates in plastics dissolved in various solutions. They used a variety of plastic items, including plastic food containers. After 10 days of sitting in distilled water, an average of 55.4 mg/ of phthalates from each kilogram of plastic "migrated" into the water. To a lesser degree the phthalates from plastics dissolved into acetic acid 3% (44.4 mg/kg) and 10% ethyl alcohol (32.3 mg/kg).
The Croatian study shows what Benjamin would suspect, if he took chemistry in college: Water is the universal solvent; and it dissolves even the primarily fat soluble phthalates. The more that you filter water to remove other toxic solutes, the more aggressive water becomes in its power to reach osmolar equilibrium by dissolving its non-inert containers.
What is also obviously missing from the Croatians' controlled, static testing model are the temperature variations that the plastic bottled water product goes through to get from bottling point to the mouth of the consumer. Transport trucks probably reach a very high temperature in the non refrigerated cargo areas that carry PETE (recycle code #1 plastic) bottled water in the summer. Heat facilitates the dissolution of phthalates into the water. Then the bottles may be stored for a much longer time than 10 days prior to consumption. Furthermore, freezing the containers produces micro-fissures in the interior surface of the plastic bottle container as the water expands, exponentially exposing more solute surface area. Traumatic handling or any motion of the package will further enhance diffusion. Applying the laws of physics, all of these factors clearly by extrapolation will increase the water dissolution of the plastic containers.
Fatty foods in plastic containers are even more problematic, as fats are absorbed differently and carry their phthalate solvents into our bodies more easily. Phthalates bio-accumulate because of their fat solubility. Phthalates concentrate in such fat organs in our bodies such as brains, prostates, testicles, ovaries, breasts and, unfortunately, breast milk. (The other popular food alternatives for infants are worse. Commercial baby formulas are loaded with the manmade phthalates.)
I think the worst example of food containment in plastic is milk. All milk except non-fat milk contains fat. Cow milk itself represents a major source of the fats ingested by the public, especially children. Cattle concentrate these chemicals by bioaccummulation because EDC's from plastics are ubiquitous in water and most animal food sources. Meat and dairy products are therefore a major contributor to this group of human food chain derived toxins, regardless of their containment. It is now irresponsible to add more phathalates to the products by putting the milk products in plastic containers that add MORE EDC's.
Cattle have intentially been "fattened up" by adding hormones AND unintentially "fattened up" more by the contamination of cattle food and water by EDC's. The combination of these chemicals passed on to the consumers in concentrated form in milk products will most likely exacerbate obesity in humans that consume them as well.
Our current scientific knowledge and common sense screams for an end to consumer purchase of milk bottled in plastics. Until milk companies have their products quantatatively analysed for these EDC's by competent independant laboratories, my strong recommendation is to avoid purchase and consumption of milk and dairy products contained in plastic.
Sadly, the Croatian authors' 2003 conclusions about the safety of plastics were: "These (exposure) levels would not present a hazard for human health, not even for a prolonged period of time." However, what was deemed acceptable levels of phthalates in 2003 now is recognized as "crystal clearly" too high.
Selective interpretations from the ACC (American Chemistry Council) lead to this erroneously high level being "set" for past toxicity standards. The ACC is an "industry group" advisor. It's much like the wolf guarding the henhouse. Thanks to the ACC efforts, control regulations placed upon this chemical class are minimal. An ongoing perpetuation of phthalate approval for use in virtually everything, including containment of food, has resulted. In fact, the perpetuation of these mythological high safety standards has resulted in the majority of our food being wrapped or contained in plastics that leach EDC's into our foods.
The ACC's Phthalate Esters Panel is made up representatives from BASF, Eastman Chemical, Exxon-Mobil Chemical, Ferro, and Teknor Apex Corporations. After graduating, Benjamin could have gone to work for any of these companies to share the wealth that plastics manufacturing have reaped, instead of hanging around and sporting Mrs. Robinson for the summer!
I love one of the rationalization examples the ACC makes on their PHTHALATES INFORMATION CENTER webpage: "Thanks to phthalates, your nail polish doesn't chip." I wonder if they are aware of the "unexplained" high rate of breast cancer in manicurists. I also wonder if they are aware that most breast tissues and breast cancers have sex hormone receptors that are acted upon by the EDC's found in plastics.
To further confuse the public, the ACC webpage also redefines the PRECAUTIONARY PRINCIPLE which in its un-perverted definition simply is: A (chemical) should not be considered safe until it is proven safe. Environmentalists who are trying to unravel the cause-effect relationships of environment chemicals, to the otherwise unexplained epidemics of various diseases now affecting man as well as every species on our planet, encourage its application. The ACC's watered down version suggests that cost effective, fearless risks are worth taking.
Can the ACC keep up the phthalate safety illusion forever? The American Tobacco Association almost got away with it!
We now know that EDC's, like hormones themselves require very minute amounts to have physiologic impact. EDC's are active in parts per trillion! For example, the usual adult maintenance dose of levothyroxine, a drug to replace depleted natural thyroid hormone in hypothyroidism, is 1.6 micrograms/Kg/day. Why would I even think about saying that a dose in the milligrams (1000 times as much as a microgram) of a known EDC would be safe, especially for a child or developing fetus?
We now know that phthalates also work in synergy with chemicals in other classes to exert "more than additive" physiologic effects.
Previous experiments in rodents showed that high levels of phthalates interfer with testosterone during gestation resulting in birth defects of the genitalia, testicular cancer, and infertility in the rats.
The ACC inspired acceptable level of phthalate myth should be blown out of the water with a recent study completed by the University of Rochester School of Medicine and Dentistry. This study of 85 human infant boys reported in May 2005 showed that phthalate levels found normally in the general population adversely influenced sexual development. The phthalate exposure these children had correlated with smaller penis size and incomplete testicular descent, which is a condition that greatly increases the risk of testicular cancer if left untreated.
Solution 1 - Choose glass containers over plastic for purchase and storage of food and beverages including milk and water.
American children can consume several milligrams of phthalate each day.
I wonder if THE GRADUATE's Mr. Robinson noticed that most of the teenage girls now-days have bigger breasts than his seductive wife (gynecomastia), and that they begin thelarche (breast development) and menarche (menstruation) at a significantly younger age, or that many more have an endocrine pathology called PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome).
The chances of a woman getting breast cancer in her lifetime has probably gone from a risk of less than 1 in 10 (10%) before THE GRADUATE was made to a 1 in about 7.5 (13.2 %) rate today.
The choice to avoid food chain plastics is a "no-brainer" when you understand how these chemicals persist and accumulate in our environment, and how they function in our bodies!
Solution 2 - Choose stainless steel containers over plastic for storage of food and beverages including water.
Unfortunately, we are past the point of no return with phthalates. Just like cigarettes I think we'll have to live as prisoners with their impact on future generations. The only defense we have at this time is to individually choose to avoid them when we can, to mitigate their effects on our health.
Phthalates clearly act upon hormone receptors in both men and women. A concern is the potential phthalate impact on breast and other hormone sensitive tissue in human females, but phthalate's demasculinizing potential on males is more of a threat to all species on the planet.
Unlike Mr. McGuire, I think we can choose a better future by avoiding his "one word." We should start by trying to reduce plastics in our food chain exposures.
Bottom line:
I would strongly advise consumers to purchase beverages and non-solid food products packaged in glass rather than plastic if given the choice.
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