Dr. Weeks’ Comment: I agree with my friend Robert Cohen – a doctor who is interested in the health of a patient must inquired about and consider the function of the bowels. Dairy is delicious in it myriad forms, but it is not heathy. I took that blunt opinion in 1993 and I stand by it today. Along with sugar and wheat, it should be avoided when detoxification is the necessary step towards regaining health.
Also stop the antacids (of which dairy is the most commonly used!) and enhance your digestion if you have heartburn or gastritis!
Robert Cohen, the not milkman, taught me then and he is still teaching me. Read on!
(and Happy Birthday Robert!)
“God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well.”
– Voltaire
“It takes a long time to become young.”
– Pablo Picasso
* * * *
There was a day in 1994 that I was reborn and became
the Notmilkman.
In 1994, I had no clue that dairy products caused problems
until I read a review about the genetically engineered
bovine growth hormone. As a result of that article (written
by Jane Heimlich, wife of Henry Heimlich, the Heimlich-maneuver
doctor), I began to investigate milk by exploring the scientific
literature. (As a result of that article, Jane Heimlich became
a colleague and dear friend, and was gracious enough to write
the foreword to my first book, Milk-The Deadly Poison.)
After Jane’s inspiring column, I assigned myself the task of
constructing a jigsaw puzzle, having no idea what the final
shape would look like. Every day, I found new pieces. I spent
40 hours each week for over a year at one of two nearby college
libraries, Bergen Community College and Fairleigh Dickinson
University.
I continued to eat pizza, cheese, and ice cream during
this first year, but avoided milk. I even visited a farm
in upstate New York (Ronnybrook Farms) that I ended up
purchasing milk from. My daughters at that time were 8, 7,
and 5. I reasoned that they needed wholesome milk, and
bought Ronneybrook’s product which was pasteurized and
then stored in glass bottles.
At the time my health was not great. I suffered from serious
allergies and like the average 40-year-old, I required eight
to nine hours of sleep each night.
I remember a family vacation the following year. We camped
out on the beach at Hither Hills campground in Montauk, New
York. Camping in the sand dunes near the ocean is wonderful,
and Hither Hills has great facilities with modern plumbing,
although each building contained only three stalls and there
were often unusually long waits.
In my frustration, I began to question men about what they
were eating. I did not tell them why. My informal study was
more anecdotal than scientific, but there kept emerging
a recurring theme. Everybody was consuming at least three
portions per day of ice cream while on their summer vacation.
Montauk is a resort community in the eastern-most part of
the Hamptons. On hot summer days, nothing seems better to
break the summer’s heat than a cone or cup of ice cream. People
were overdosing on the stuff. I actually surveyed the number
of stores selling ice cream. They outnumbered souvenir
t-shirt shops.
When I got home, I tried an experiment of one. I immediately
cut out all cheese and pizza and ice cream, and within a few days
noticed a great difference. My own bowel movements changed. My
sleep patterns changed. Instead of the ten hours sleep, I now
needed six or seven. Two years after that, I would become a vegan,
eliminating all animal products from my diet. Immediately, I
transitioned to five hours of sleep each night. The energy kick
and ease of digestion were wonderful to experience. The major
difference in my life was in giving up dairy, but giving up
meat, fish, and eggs brought things to a different level.
I remember a lecture I gave in New York City some time in 1998
after writing my first book, MILK-The Deadly Poison. Afterwards,
a woman came up to me and pointed to my leather shoes and
admonished me. I thought she was nuts, but that moment stayed
with me. What I had done with my own dietary and lifestyle changes
I had done just for myself. Compassion for animals played a secondary
role in my dietary changes. It was all about compassion for my own body.
At the time I wrote my book, I was still using Parmesan cheese
on my pasta. Today my complete restriction of dairy is absolute.
For me, it all began in a restroom in the summer of 1994.
Doctors rarely ask you the critically important question regarding
your bowel movements. Hippocrates taught that the state of one’s
stools are the most revealing clue to the nature of human
physiology. This should be the primary question out of the mouths
of physicians and healers during their examinations.
“How are your bowel movements?”
I wonder if my fellow Americans are reading novels in the
toilet. I do not. Quite often, I am next in line behind men
who spend large periods of time warming the seat of where I
soon will sit. It is not unusual for 15 minutes or more to
go by while waiting for my 30-second turn. I sometimes regret
not traveling with a can of perfumed aerosol spray to clean
my airspace, polluted by another. Global warming is preferable
to the bouquet of recycled cheddar cheese. Ben & Jerry’s is
not so wonderful on the way out.
Do You spend hours on Harrington’s throne? Happily, I do not.
(The water closet, as we know it, was invented by John
Harrington in 1588 and the first flush toilet was introduced
in 1738 by architect John Brondel. Ergo, the toilet’s nickname,
John.)
Why do some people require such long intervals in the
bathroom? Because they can? Because they must! Because
most persons fall victim to those most efficient of
internal sludge producers, cheese and ice cream. Hence,
lousy bowel movements.
Most cats and every dog I’ve seen have great bowel movements.
They don’t even need toilet paper. I’ve witnessed horses and
elephants, barnyard animals, little mammals and large
mammals all doing their duty, and they all have the same
thing in common. They defecate quickly, and their
“droppings” are firm. This is not a difference between
species, per se. It is merely a difference between what
each species eats. Food for thought?
Why are most humans the exception to this regular rule of
regularity? Why do cows and buffaloes make “chips,” while
humans make sludge?
While studying milk issues and putting together those
puzzle pieces, I learned about what causes people to
have such horrible bowel movements.
Eighty percent of milk protein is casein, the mucous
producer. Casein from cow’s milk is a foreign protein. When
you eat this antigen, your body’s immune system manufactures
an antibody. The antibody is a histamine. As a result of
histamine production, you produce mucus, and lots of it.
Many people open their medicine cabinets or rush to their
pharmacies in search of antihistamines to counter the effect.
Sprinkle Parmesan cheese on your pasta and ten hours later,
you’ll have produced enough mucous to fill the empty quart
container of Ben & Jerry’s Nitty Gritty. Most Americans
continuously eat one form or another of dairy products. The
average American eats the equivalent of 29.2 ounces per day
from this food group. For them, bad bowel movements are a
way of life. They have never known what it is like to be
regular. They never will if they continue eating dairy.
The cure is so simple. One week completely off dairy,
and you’ll be as regular as Fido. Is it not worth the
experiment?
Give this embarrassing newsletter to a friend or relative.
Dare them to take the Notmilk challenge for just seven
days. If you truly love them and wish for them to have a
meaningful learning experience, treat them to pizza on day
eight. On day nine, they’ll return to the messy sludge, and
experience that which most Americans deny:
Milk does not do the body good.
What I am about to suggest may have animal rights activists
protesting at my door. Feed Fido two slices of pizza for
his next meal. That gooey mozzarella will do amazing
things to his regularity.
WARNING: Feed your dog cheese today, and for the next few
walks, leave behind the pooper-scooper and bring along a
spatula. Bring along Charmin too. Your dog will be smart
enough to make the connection. Will you? I made that
connection and that was the beginning of my new life as
the Notmilkman.
I began my Notmilk crusade as a man in his young forties.
There have been many ups and downs during this roller-coaster
ride of mine. Today is my birthday, and as I begin my 63rd
year of life, I still question what it is I want to do when
(if) I grow up.
* * * *
“I have learned that the harder
you fall…the higher you bounce!
– John Paul Warren