AN EFFORT TO CATCH UP

Linda and Carolyn, in 1981

They look happy.  Maybe they had just met me.

It has been week since I added something new to this blog, and the stern gaze of Abu Bakr ibn Beck al-Beaumonti has frightened me into frantic activity.  I have been busy, yes, but not doing things that are particularly useful.  For instance: yesterday I spent the afternoon stalking the elusive lazuli bunting, a tiny blue bird that flies like the wind and has an uncanny knack for hiding behind things.  I saw a blue streak darting across the road as I drove up to the place it had been reported.  I had memorized its song and its critical markings, and was sure it would be mine – that is, item 67 on my Life List – in a matter of minutes.  Not to be.  Neither hide nor feather nor diagnostic song did I experience, over the next two hours.  I may try again today (it is nice out), just as soon as I finish this blog.

So, I have just finished scanning several Google Alerts (on ovarian cancer), and found nothing much worth reporting. However,  I will tell you about several items that stuck in my mind.

One article, published in a British newspaper, reports that a woman whose ovaries were “riddled with cancer” cured herself by switching to a whole-foods, vegan diet.  I don’t believe it.

Another reported that eating ginger helps prevent cancer.  No statistics were cited, and no particular types of cancer discussed.  What the heck: maybe so.  There are so many different kinds of cancer that it is not beyond belief that ginger will inhibit some of them.  Eat ginger snaps.

Still another report left me depressed.  I won’t give you the citation (you wouldn’t read it anyway, although I am curious about how you would respond.)  The article describes very early stage clinical trial involving a few dozen patients.  All were in an advanced stage, with nothing much standing between them and death.  These poor souls were divided into two groups: one group got the drug, and the other a placebo.  Sure enough, the first group lived a significantly longer time than the placebo group.  Now, I wonder if I could be so rigidly scientific in performing this experiment.  If I had reason to believe that my drug would help, how in God’s name could I bring myself to feed half the group a useless sugar pill?  I know it has to be done – but let somebody else do it.

Finally, here is a good article, one that you should read.  It relates that there are five main instruments in the oncologist’s tool bag, namely surgery, chemo, radiation, targeted therapy – and a new one, immunotherapy.   We have talked about the last two several times in the past few years.  This article deals in detail with only immunotherapy, but it does it well.  It doesn’t break new ground, but it is a good survey.  Give it a whirl:

http://www.economist.com/news/science-and-technology/21653602-doctors-are-tryingwith-some-successto-recruit-immune-system-help