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Oxytocin is a hormone which plays an important role in the brain's impulses to be intimate, especially relating to sexual reproduction. The brain releases the hormone in huge amount after childbirth to promote lactation. Here are some tips and foods to boost oxytocin levels -Vitamin D rich foods like eggs, chicken, milk, fortified breakfast cereals, etc. Sunlight is another abundant source.Vitamin C rich foods like amla, guava, berries, tomato, lemon, broccoli and Brussel sprouts.Magnesium rich foods like almonds, avocado, dark chocolate and bananas.Curd and yogurt.Chamomile tea.Melatonin.Fenugreek or methi seeds.Sage oil.Regular physical activity schedule.Yoga.Meditation.Keep stress at bay.Overall maintain a healthy lifestyle.

A2A request about “my laws of teaching.” I love this question, just for the record.Get to know all of the students in your class, by name, within the first two weeks of the semester. With the exception of teaching an introductory course in a lecture hall with 120 students (2 semesters only…I hate this kind of teaching as an fyi), I was able to meet this goal. Typical class size was 15–30 students; a typical semester had me teaching two undergraduate and two graduate level courses per semester.Share my philosophy of life and my philosophy of teaching with students on the first day of class. I would also post it on the course shell (Blackboard) for those students who missed the first day of class. A distilled version of these two philosophies is this: I am a student of life; students have as much to teach me, as I have to offer them. What they do, effectively, is to make me a better teacher and by extension a better human being.Be authentic and keep an open mind. Although good teaching can be a performance art, like acting, I have learned that it takes too much psychic energy to be “acting in the classroom” for every class meeting. I’m myself, warts and all. IF I’m having a bad day for some reason, I might mention that I’m “not my best self today” or something to that effect. I ask my students to call me by my first name OR “Dr. Linda” if they insist on using a title. I also say NOT to call me “Mrs. Robinson” because that moniker reminds me of the middle-aged character in the movie The Graduate in the late 1960’s who seduced a young man who was dating her daughter. I remind students that I am NOT “the sage on the stage” meaning that I don’t have all of the answers and never will.Use a variety of pedagogical techniques in the classroom, especially student-center learning activities. My mantra is this: engage the students. Pose questions to relate new concepts to what they already know. Use videos, music clips, movie clips to illustrate psychological principles.Keep my courses fresh. Oftentimes this meant revamping a course in its entirety and starting over with fresh ideas for keeping students engaged.Make courses, where possible, like workshops where students are learning while doing during class time. Accomplishing this goal was much easier for graduate level coursework. It was doable, however, for some of the junior and senior level courses that I taught.Use a variety of assessment techniques to measure assimilation of new knowledge. Rather than just having a midterm and a final, there were homework assignments, scheduled quizzes and maybe three tests during the semester. There was always some type of writing assignment - typically a paper and an in-class presentation where students would evaluate each other! In the case of a term paper, students would have to submit a draft first, which I would edit and give feedback for improvement.Invite students to my office for an in-person conversation (or two or three) if I sensed they were struggling with particular course content OR seemed to be struggling with adjusting to college life in general.That’s about it…don’t have 10 laws. These practices were my touch-stones when a faculty member.Sean, thanks for the opportunity to answer your question.

When I was 59 I noticed something odd was going on inside my body. I felt something about the size of a baseball that was moving around in my torso from my waist up to about my armpits, inside my ribcage. I would feel it down just above my groin and then some days later up around my heart. Sometimes at night, I could feel it moving. Wherever it settled the skin above it would break out in sores. Of course, I was alarmed, so I made an appointment at the VA hospital and waited the requisite three months before they could see me.The doctor was a young fella, probably late twenties early thirties, kind of a smart aleck. I described to him what I was feeling and he looked at me like I was crazy. He didn’t conduct a physical exam, didn’t feel where I indicated or do anything other than take a sharp device about the circumference of a cigarette filter and screwed it down over one of the sores previously mentioned and essentially “cored” it to about a quarter-inch depth for a biopsy. With no topical or injected anesthetic, he just gouged it out. He then referred me to the Psychiatric Department for evaluation. He said I was suffering from delusional parasitosis (which is a psychological disorder involving thinking you have insects or worms crawling around inside you). I agreed to be evaluated by the psychiatrist and after a lengthy interview (in which I described the same symptoms to him) he concurred. He diagnosed me as having a delusional disorder. Now I am sane as the next guy and I knew what I was feeling was not my imagination. Over the next two years, I returned several times to complain of the same thing, which had now grown to the size of a softball.As is common with the VA, doctors don’t hang around long and I went through two or three doctors in a couple of years. Each of them, reading the previous doctor's notes, would sagely just pat me on the back and kept telling me, “everything will be okay” and did nothing. I was frustrated beyond belief. I was subsequently diagnosed as a case of persistent delusional disorder (monosymptomatic hypochondriacal psychosis-delusional parasitosis). To the VA I was a nut case.In the third year, I ended up with a new doctor from India. He was thrilled that I (a Caucasian) was fluent in Hindi, his mother tongue. I explained to him how the previous 3–4 doctors had just been patronizing, claiming me to be a nut case and done nothing to resolve my complaints. He said, “don’t worry, I don’t pay any attention to what these self-important clowns विदूषक say. Let’s find out what is going on.” True to his word, he scheduled me for MRIs, CT scans, sonograms and standard x-rays. All of them came back normal. I was in disbelief, how could this be possible. I began to wonder about my own sanity.By this time, I had begun to notice a substance that was “oozing” (for lack of a better word) from place to place in my body. Along my arms and legs and settling into my feet and hands. It had the consistency of peanut butter and seemed to travel under my skin and above the underlying muscle or bone. I could push it around under my skin (so I knew it wasn’t just fat - fat is living tissue and is attached) and it seemed to settle around joints and low spots where muscles joined. When it would settle in my wrist, I would have carpal tunnel-like symptoms. If it accumulated around a joint I would begin having arthritic like pain. Big lumps of it were in my feet and lower legs causing swelling and edema like symptoms. If I massaged the material away from those areas the pain would stop, so I knew whatever this was, was the cause. It began oozing out of the holes in my skull, in my nostril holes, around my eye sockets and out of the ear holes. Not to the outside; but under my skin. My eye sockets would get full and affect my vision until I purged the stuff from my eyes. It tended to settle in my eyes at night when I was laying down and gravity settled it into hollows of my body. Every morning a good hour or two was spent massaging the substance out of my eyes and nostrils holes so I could see and breathe. My face began to fill up with whatever this substance was.Unfortunately, the VA has a policy that if something does not show up in an x-ray or some type of visual test they will not pursue it. They do not do exploratory procedures. Dr. Bhavesh didn’t give up on me. About that time the VA came out with the CHOICE program. The VA had gotten so far behind on their appointments and care for the veterans they initiated a program that if signed off by your doctor, you could seek outside treatment. Dr. Bhavesh signed it with a flourish.I went to Boston University to seek further help. They put me through the wringer with a hemogram, urinalysis, fecal analysis, thyroid function, liver function, VDRL, blood sugar, ultrasonography abdomen, a viral marker for active hepatitis, electroencephalogram, a fat pad analysis and computed tomography of the brain. I was also evaluated by a dermatologist and specialists for the exclusion of any organicity (whatever that is).The prognosis came back. I had a rare genetic disease called hATTR Amyloidosis. It affects approximately 50,000 people worldwide. Essentially, various proteins in your body (depending on which type of amyloidosis you have) become misshaped. For example, as in my case, red blood cells were folding in half and losing their functionality and becoming waste in the body. So all these lumps, clumps and oozing “stuff” are an accumulation of waste cells. These cells string together, gather in clumps and have the proclivity to bond with calcium. The body’s watchdogs that dispose of waste, see the calcium and determine it to be a good thing and don’t get rid of it. So my body is basically filling up with these waste cells. The reason this did not show up on x-rays, CTs and MRIs was that the red blood cells, although misshaped and useless, looked like everything else around them. You couldn’t see the trees for the forest. The downside is these cells are able to move about the body like any other blood cell and tend to gather and get stuck in muscle. They gather in the muscle causing the muscle to become inelastic. Your heart is a muscle. Like a rubber balloon, your heart expands and contracts to pump blood. As the muscle takes on these waste cells it begins to harden. Imagine a balloon that you fill with sand. One day the balloon is full and can no longer expand or contract and stops.Because of the years that passed with apathy and misdiagnosis by the VA, my situation has spread from a baseball-sized lump in my torso to becoming “systemic” (meaning throughout my whole body). There is no cure. Life can be prolonged with organ transplants; but, they too will eventually succumb.There is no way to tell how fast this condition will progress. Last year they told me I had a couple of years. Thank goodness to this point it has not been painful (uncomfortable maybe). 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