�Using pain treatments which contain codeine may be risky for some breastfeeding mothers, according to researchers at The University of Western Ontario, and the Hospital for Sick Children (SickKids) in Toronto. Lead author Dr. Gideon Koren published research in the journal, Clinical Pharmacology & Therapeutics which suggests that the codeine used in some pain in the ass relief drugs can really have harmful and even fatal results for infants when ingested by some breastfeeding mothers.
"With nearly half of all infants in North America being delivered by caesarian section or after episiotomy, there is clearly a requirement for pain assuagement for mothers," says Koren. "However, our study confirms that codeine as a treatment for pain crataegus oxycantha be undesirable and cannot be considered safe for all breastfed infants."
Koren holds the Ivey Chair in Molecular Toxicology at the Schulich School of Medicine & Dentistry at The University of Western Ontario, and is a prof of paediatrics at both Western and the University of Toronto. He is also a senior scientist in the Child Health Evaluative Sciences program at SickKids Research Institute, and director of The Motherisk Program.
Codeine is commonly secondhand for hurting relief and is recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics as being compatible with breastfeeding. Following numerous reports through the Motherisk direction service and the tragical death of an baby who died from an overdose of morphine acquired from chest milk, Koren and his team, located at SickKids and The University of Western Ontario, investigated these negative reactions.
Codeine is a 'prodrug' which means that on its own it is relatively inactive. The pain relieving attributes ar only activated when it is metabolized, or transformed by the body into a more active hurting relieving deepen, morphine. Some individuals give birth a genic variance which causes them to metabolise codeine at a rapid rate, producing significantly more morphine in their system than most of the population. While this genic predisposition is rare, women who own it and who claim codeine for pain while breastfeeding lavatory end up exposing their babies to high levels of morphine through their breast milk River. This rear cause babies to experience central unquiet system slump as a result.
"The good news is that those breastfeeding children who were exposed to these high levels of morphine showed dramatic improvement once they were taken off the morphine corrupt breast milk," says Koren. "By removing the exposure, most children will demonstrate a fill in reversal of symptoms and show no long-term contrary effects."
The study was funded by Genome BC, Genome Canada, Canadian Institutes of Health Research, the Ivey Chair in Molecular Toxicology, the Research Leadership for Better Pharmacotherapy during Pregnancy and Lactation, and SickKids Foundation.
Source: Kathy Wallis
University of Western Ontario
More information
Saturday, 23 August 2008
Wednesday, 13 August 2008
Download Los Yonics
 Artist: Los Yonics: mp3 download Genre(s): Other Retro Discography:  Hacia El Milenio Disco 2 Year: 1999 Tracks: 11  Hacia el Milenio CD1 Year: 1999 Tracks: 10  16 Exitos De Oro Year: 1990 Tracks: 16  22 Exitos Year: Tracks: 21 The incredibly fecund los Yonic's formed in the '80s and have released an record album nearly every year since. The group, which includes leader Johnny Ayvar, Jose Manuel Zamacona (vocals, guitar), Mountain Martin (pianoforte), Bruno Ayvar, Oscar Perez, Eduardo Corner (saxophone and flute), and Vincente Martinez (sax and transverse flute) was formed in San Luis Pedro just resettled to Acapulco. The set has proven to be incredibly pop with Mexican immigrants in the American Southwest, especially Los Angeles, San Jose, Phoenix, and El Paso, where their brand of tropical/Cumbia music is often performed in local ballrooms. Los Yonic's mix tropic music with softer ballads, and the combination has earned them several hits over their long career, including "I Am," "Sad Words," and "White Roses." |
Wednesday, 6 August 2008
The Legendary Cher Is Back ... Again
The quintessential queen of retort has once again risen like a Phoenix. Singer Cher testament open at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas trey years after she finished her external farewell circuit.
(Avik Gilboa/WireImage.com)
More Photos
She reportedly is receiving $60 million for her stretch, although she initially played coy around her salary in her exclusive question with Nightline anchor Cynthia McFadden at the superstar's Malibu rest home Sunday.
"I know it's a lot, but I don't precaution. If it's a lot, if mortal says, 'ooh, it's a lot,' OK. fine. It must be a lot," Cher said.
Cher, who largely has stayed out of the public eye the last few years, testament replace Celine Dion in the city of sinning. Among other challenges, she will face the difficulty of topping her profitable and successful last circuit.
Forty Years and Counting
After four decades of success, Cher has managed to become the only artist to consume a hit in each of the last foursome decades. Still, she worries about money.
"Oh, I always imagine I'm departure to be a suitcase lady," she said. "When Sonny and I were really renowned in the beginning, I remember going out and buying deuce electric sauteing pans. He said, 'What are you doing with that?' I went, 'Well I'm just saving one in the box seat in font.'"
With her commercial and fiscal success, Cher didn't need the relief pan. She has managed to udder almost every major laurels imaginable. She has Grammys, a Golden Globe and an Oscar.
Even with all her successes, Cher has had difficulties. The gay icon said she suffers from depression.
"When you
Thursday, 26 June 2008
Thursday, 19 June 2008
Grand Illusion
Artist: Grand Illusion
Genre(s):
Other
Discography:
View from the Top
Year: 2002
Tracks: 11
Book of How to Make It
Year: 2001
Tracks: 11
Wednesday, 11 June 2008
Live: Jon Brion
One big difference between the Largo nightclub's new location on La Cienega Boulevard and its longtime home on Fairfax was illustrated during Jon Brion's late show on Friday. In the middle of a lively, tango-style instrumental, the guitar-wielding Brion and mandolinist Chris Thile faced each other from opposite ends of the stage and charged past each other in a playful display of rock showmanship.
At the old Largo, two musicians could hardly stand 6 feet apart without backing into a wall or falling into the tables.
But a more crucial distinction emerged a little later when Fiona Apple, winding down to the end of an old pop standard, sang the final words in a voice that seemed impossibly hushed. She stood far from the microphone, but the notes were clear, pure and natural throughout the room. There wasn't a trace of distraction -- no clinking glasses, no blender at a bar, no audience chatter.
That rare, precious moment crowned the new setting's opening week, and it must have come as a relief to Largo fans and owner Mark Flanagan. You don't monkey with an institution without taking risks, and there was no guarantee that the Largo sensibility would survive the transition.
Like New York's CBGB and Living Room and L.A.'s old Ash Grove, to name a few, the Largo became the core of a music-centric community during its 12 years on Fairfax. With a capacity of just over 100 and a prominent position in the city's cultural fabric, it was part clubhouse and part laboratory, a homey retreat for a group of literate singer-songwriters that included Aimee Mann, Grant-Lee Phillips, Nellie McKay, David Garza and more.
Its move to the old Coronet Theatre, up the street from the Beverly Center, basically entailed an exchange of circulation for concentration. Some Largo regulars will probably miss the supper-club environment, the option to eat and drink and move around a bit while experiencing the music. The new format forgoes amenities to fulfill the Largo's mission statement: Serve the music above everything.
There's no food or beverage in the 280-capacity theater, whose permanent seats keep you planted in one spot. And the familiar Largo rules -- no talking during the show, no cellphones or electronics -- still prevail. (For those in need of socializing, a small showroom at the theater with a beer and wine bar is scheduled to open this week.)
Mann's opening-night performance a week ago showed that the right blend of focus and informality can quickly loosen up the atmosphere. Accompanied by bassist Paul Bryan and keyboardist Jamie Edwards, she played lots of songs from her new album, "@#%&! Smilers," immediately revealing the theater's warm sound quality. When she started taking requests and bantering with the audience, it felt a lot like the old Largo.
If Mann's performance was the birth of the new Largo, Brion's show was its baptism. The multifaceted musician's Friday residency was the centerpiece of the Fairfax location for more than a decade, and by transferring it intact to its new stage, he put the seal on the deal.
Brion is the quintessential Largo artist, a pop-music polymath who could have probably forged a high profile as a hit maker but instead followed his instincts into a rewarding array of projects and collaborations, working with such artists as Apple, Mann, Rufus Wainwright, Kanye West, Eleni Mandell and director Paul Thomas Anderson, to name just a few.
His first Friday at the new spot was typically familiar yet unpredictable. In his 90-minute early set, the boyish host was like a musical mad scientist, forming full-band backdrops by playing and looping piano, drums and guitars, choosing instruments and songs as he went. He honored a request for "Baba O'Riley," played the Kinks' "This Is Where I Belong," turned the standard "Someone to Watch Over Me" into an anguished shower of distortion, and showcased some of his own material, including "Why Do You Do This to Yourself," which he wrote with Evan Dando, and "Knock Yourself Out" from the "I [Heart] Huckabees" soundtrack. For the chops freaks, he closed with a dazzling display of guitar virtuosity on Bob Dylan's "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right."
About half of the audience stuck around for the late show, which showcased Largo's community aspect. Brion was joined from the start by Thile and soon after by fiddler Sara Watkins and her brother, guitarist Sean Watkins, the mandolinist's bandmates from the on-hiatus bluegrass band Nickel Creek.
Apple sang some standards and the country staple "I Forgot More Than You'll Ever Know," actor John C. Reilly did a couple of bluegrass tunes, "Rank Stranger" and "Angel Band" ("Um, there's one more verse," he told the musicians after they had brought the latter to a sweet conclusion), and singer-songwriter Garza added ecstatic energy with his rapid guitar strumming and transported singing.
As Thile closed the evening alone playing Bach's violin partita in D Minor on his mandolin, the thought occurred: If Disney Hall is L.A.'s cathedral of sound, the city now has its true chapel.
richard.cromelin@latimes .com
At the old Largo, two musicians could hardly stand 6 feet apart without backing into a wall or falling into the tables.
But a more crucial distinction emerged a little later when Fiona Apple, winding down to the end of an old pop standard, sang the final words in a voice that seemed impossibly hushed. She stood far from the microphone, but the notes were clear, pure and natural throughout the room. There wasn't a trace of distraction -- no clinking glasses, no blender at a bar, no audience chatter.
That rare, precious moment crowned the new setting's opening week, and it must have come as a relief to Largo fans and owner Mark Flanagan. You don't monkey with an institution without taking risks, and there was no guarantee that the Largo sensibility would survive the transition.
Like New York's CBGB and Living Room and L.A.'s old Ash Grove, to name a few, the Largo became the core of a music-centric community during its 12 years on Fairfax. With a capacity of just over 100 and a prominent position in the city's cultural fabric, it was part clubhouse and part laboratory, a homey retreat for a group of literate singer-songwriters that included Aimee Mann, Grant-Lee Phillips, Nellie McKay, David Garza and more.
Its move to the old Coronet Theatre, up the street from the Beverly Center, basically entailed an exchange of circulation for concentration. Some Largo regulars will probably miss the supper-club environment, the option to eat and drink and move around a bit while experiencing the music. The new format forgoes amenities to fulfill the Largo's mission statement: Serve the music above everything.
There's no food or beverage in the 280-capacity theater, whose permanent seats keep you planted in one spot. And the familiar Largo rules -- no talking during the show, no cellphones or electronics -- still prevail. (For those in need of socializing, a small showroom at the theater with a beer and wine bar is scheduled to open this week.)
Mann's opening-night performance a week ago showed that the right blend of focus and informality can quickly loosen up the atmosphere. Accompanied by bassist Paul Bryan and keyboardist Jamie Edwards, she played lots of songs from her new album, "@#%&! Smilers," immediately revealing the theater's warm sound quality. When she started taking requests and bantering with the audience, it felt a lot like the old Largo.
If Mann's performance was the birth of the new Largo, Brion's show was its baptism. The multifaceted musician's Friday residency was the centerpiece of the Fairfax location for more than a decade, and by transferring it intact to its new stage, he put the seal on the deal.
Brion is the quintessential Largo artist, a pop-music polymath who could have probably forged a high profile as a hit maker but instead followed his instincts into a rewarding array of projects and collaborations, working with such artists as Apple, Mann, Rufus Wainwright, Kanye West, Eleni Mandell and director Paul Thomas Anderson, to name just a few.
His first Friday at the new spot was typically familiar yet unpredictable. In his 90-minute early set, the boyish host was like a musical mad scientist, forming full-band backdrops by playing and looping piano, drums and guitars, choosing instruments and songs as he went. He honored a request for "Baba O'Riley," played the Kinks' "This Is Where I Belong," turned the standard "Someone to Watch Over Me" into an anguished shower of distortion, and showcased some of his own material, including "Why Do You Do This to Yourself," which he wrote with Evan Dando, and "Knock Yourself Out" from the "I [Heart] Huckabees" soundtrack. For the chops freaks, he closed with a dazzling display of guitar virtuosity on Bob Dylan's "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right."
About half of the audience stuck around for the late show, which showcased Largo's community aspect. Brion was joined from the start by Thile and soon after by fiddler Sara Watkins and her brother, guitarist Sean Watkins, the mandolinist's bandmates from the on-hiatus bluegrass band Nickel Creek.
Apple sang some standards and the country staple "I Forgot More Than You'll Ever Know," actor John C. Reilly did a couple of bluegrass tunes, "Rank Stranger" and "Angel Band" ("Um, there's one more verse," he told the musicians after they had brought the latter to a sweet conclusion), and singer-songwriter Garza added ecstatic energy with his rapid guitar strumming and transported singing.
As Thile closed the evening alone playing Bach's violin partita in D Minor on his mandolin, the thought occurred: If Disney Hall is L.A.'s cathedral of sound, the city now has its true chapel.
richard.cromelin@latimes .com
Wednesday, 4 June 2008
Clay Aiken E-smack-ulates
Clay Aiken showed a flair of masculinity last night as he went after our D.C. photog who wanted some info on the Claby.
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