Not All Expiration Dates Are Created Equal

Near the end of 2007, I used the last aspirin tablets from a 500 count bottle that had an expiration date in 2002. They, just like the previous 497, alleviated my headache. Some weeks later, I finished off a 150 count bottle of Rolaids which had a similarly old expiration date. They relieved my heartburn. Though I don't specifically know of any, I think there probably are some prescription drugs which do lose effectiveness with age.

I have seen people discard milk on the date stamped on the container. But that is not an expiration date; rather, it's a "sell by" date, and is directed toward the retail seller. If it is kept refrigerated between 33 & 40 degrees F, milk will usually, though not always, remain good for a couple of weeks beyond the sell by date. Leaving it out at room temperature for extended periods of time will hasten spoilage. Meat which is cut and wrapped at a supermarket also has a sell by date, but, even when kept properly refrigerated, will usually start to go bad within two or three days after the sell by date. So, if you can't use it quickly, freeze it. When red meat turns brown, it doesn't mean it has gone bad, merely that it has been exposed to air. With meat and dairy products the best test is still the "smell" test. If it has a disgusting odor, throw it out. However, remember that fish will always smell fishy. It's the rotten fish smell that should be avoided. I have, on occasion, found a really good sale price on eggs and bought three or four dozen at the same time. I've kept them properly refrigerated, and used them five or six weeks beyond their "Use by" date.

As with so many things in life, common sense is a better guide than prescribed guidelines. Unfortunately, many people are sorely deficient in this attribute.

Physicians

I have come to the conclusion that there are two basic types of practicing physicians. There are also those who only do research, but of doctors who interact with the public, there are treaters and there are healers. Treaters see patients. Healers treat people.

Treaters view a set of symtoms, reach into a figurative box, and pull out a diagnosis which seems to be indicated by said symtoms, then give the patient presciptions and prosciptions. If these solve the problem, the treater has done his job. If they do not, the treater has done his job, and it may be the patients fault that they didn't work, probably due to ommission or commission; or the problem is an anomaly which cannot be diagnosed or corrected.

Healers take the same initial steps, but they have a scientific curiosity, and often a sympathy, that kicks in while the problem remains unsolved. But if standard protocol doesn't produce the desired results, they explore other avenues, and don't give up easily.

I prefer healers, don't you?

More Quotable Quotes

"When a man finds no peace within himself, it is useless to seek it elsewhere."
French Proverb

"The smallest good deed is greater than the greatest good intention."
Anonymous

"I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself than be crowded on a velvet cushion."
Henry David Thoreau

"I tried but it didn't work is a lot better than I wish I had tried."
Source Obscure

Police Blotter

Every year Abilene Christian University [College when I was there] has a musical revue called Spring Sing. In 1966, curfew for dorm dwellers was 11:00 p.m., except on special occasions such as Spring Sing when it was changed to midnight.

A group of us freshmen boys who didn't have dates went back to the dorm after the event. While sitting around talking, we devised a plan to have some fun, and, perhaps, mess up the final make-out minutes of those who did have dates.
We gathered the necessary props for our little drama: a white cane, a pair of sunglasses, and a blanket.

About 11:45 we piled into a car with our props and drove to the street where the two girls dorms housing the most socially elite were located. If memory serves, it was Danny [remember Danny?] who was the designated blind man. We let him out, and he hid between two parallel parked cars. We drove slowly around the block, and turned back onto the street at 11:55. The goody two-shoes were standing around the front doors of the dorms, while those with a normal hormone level were still in cars trying to eke out as many final hugs and kisses as possible. Just before we got to the gap where Danny was crouched, the driver stomped the brakes, screeching the tires. I was sitting in the passenger seat and, as the car came to a stop, I slapped my hand loudly against the outside of the door. Danny jumped out with the shades askew on his face and laid down in front of the car, dropping the white cane to his side. We all scrambled out of the car, acting panicked. I bent over him, then looked up and yelled, "Call 911. Does anyone have a blanket?" The driver said he had one in the trunk, and promptly retrieved it. Danny lay silent and motionless. We covered him with the blanket and hovered around him so that others couldn't get too close. People came down from the dorm steps. People came out of their cars. Within a few minutes, a crowd had gathered, completely filling the street. Per our plan, I leaned over and whispered in Danny's ear, "One, two, three." He sat up, then sprang to his feet. We gathered the blanket and cane, got back into the car, and drove away through the parting crowd.

As we pulled back into the parking lot of our dorm, we heard sirens coming up the hill toward the school. And in the next day's newspaper, the event was listed in the police blotter.