Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Nodes of Gold
Bad news out of England on Monday: Tony Iommi, lead guitarist for the band Black Sabbath, has been diagnosed with "early stage lymphoma" (nothing more specific than that), and has begun treatment.
Sounds like it's time for a new installment of Nodes of Gold.....
***************************
It's been a while, so I'll remind you: Nodes of Gold is a (not really any longer) regular feature in Lympho Bob, highlighting the life and triumph of someone famous who was diagnosed with lymphoma of some sort. F. Scott Fitzgerald said that the rich are just like you and me. And indeed, they are -- sometimes, unfortunately, they get lymphoma. Past Nodes of Gold honorees include Mr. T, actor/comedian Arte Johnson, golfer Paul Azinger and football player Joe Andruzzi.
And now, Tony Iommi.
Iommi is lead guitarist for Black Sabbath (one of my favorites when I was younger), a band probably best known for having Ozzy Osbourne as its lead singer from 1969 to 1977, then again in 1997. Sabbath has had 22 members over the years, but Tony Iommi has been a constant -- the only member of the band that has stayed with them for all of their 33 years. That's loyalty.
Sabbath's lead guitarist, Iommi is considered a pioneer in heavy metal guitar, creating riffs like this one:
In fact, in 2004, Guitar World magazine named him the greatest metal guitarist of all time.
He also, very briefly, spent some time as guitarist for Jethro Tull, pre-Sabbath.
But despite his loyalty, he did have some difficulties. Like, for instance, in 1992, Iommi was arrested while on tour. Bandmate and pal Ozzy Osbourne bailed him out -- or so Ozzy claimed later, when he sued Iommi for the $75,000 he posted for him.
And a personal connection: a couple of years ago, I was experiencing a strange dizziness, especially in the mornings. I didn't know if it was lymphoma-related, and I eventually had an MRI, which turned out to be negative. The doctor figured it was probably stress-related, caused by lots of jaw-clenching, which is one of those side effects of having cancer. Anyway, the Ear doctor did a whole bunch of tests, and it was also determined that I had some upper-register hearing loss. We agreed that this can be directly attributed to listening to so much Iommi-fueled Black Sabbath, through Radio Shack headphones, when I was 13. Especially this song:
So, Tony Iommi, I'm very sorry to hear that you've joined the club that no one wants to be a member of. I'm sure it's little consolation, but you do now officially have Nodes of Gold.
Hope the treatments go well.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Visit with Dr. R
I had a good visit with Dr. R today. No changes -- everything looks good.
*********************
Actually, there was one change, but it didn't involve me.
The practice is no longer independent, but is now affiliated with/run through Yale-Smilow Cancer Hospital. This is not necessarily a big deal (I can, for example, get my scans anywhere I want, not just at Yale), and the doctors and staff are all the same at the office. But there were some very obvious small changes: I have to get an ID bracelet when I arrive, just as if I would if I went to the hospital; it took them about 15 minutes to call me in for bloodwork (gone is that nice sign that said, "If you have been waiting for more than 10 minutes, please come and tell us at the desk"); and when they took my weight, it was in kilograms, not pounds. Also, the computers were all down because Yale was installing new software.
The change-over came on January 1, so it's only been a week under the new management, and they're naturally working out some kinks with all of the new procedures. I go back in May, so I'll withhold judgement on the changes until then....
**********************
Anyway, Dr. R said my bloodwork was "perfect" -- no signs of any problems. The physical exam revealed nothing wrong. And I'm feeling fine. So we're good for another 4 months.
The visit with Dr. R was a little different, though -- he seemed slightly more harried, maybe a little rushed. We didn't have quite as long a chat about our families -- that sort of thing.
He did give me a quick update on possible future directions for treatment, when I mentioned it's been just shy of 2 years since I had the Rituxan. He told us there was a "second-generation Rituxan" that was now being used. It's also an anti-CD20 monoclonal antibody. I knew just what he was talking about -- Ofatumumab -- but I didn't want to be obnoxious about it all and say the name, which he clearly couldn't remember. So he danced around his own forgetfulness, telling us that there were a bunch of Rituxan alternatives out there, with some slight variations ("Yes," I thought to myself, "they are humanized monoclonal antibodies"). He told us, still dancing around the name, that some of the Rituxan alternatives were derived from non-human sources. At this point, Isabel also frustrated with his not being able to remember stuff (or remember he was talking to a cancer research nerd), mouthed to me "mice!" without him seeing. He finally remembered that the source for these antibodies like Rituxan was mice, which made me and Isabel both smile. He also mentioned that there were some other antibodies being developed, some that targeted other CD proteins, like CD22 ("Yes," I thought, "that would be Eprituzamab").
I'm going to chalk up Dr. R's forgetfulness to the changes in the office management, which seemed to be throwing off everybody in the office in some way. And I want to point out again how good I was to not show him up with my own knowledge of current treatment options, and in not giving him the URL for this blog so he can learn more about all of this stuff on his own.
The bottom line is, I'm still healthy, everything looks good, and we can breath easy for a little while, anyway.
*********************
Actually, there was one change, but it didn't involve me.
The practice is no longer independent, but is now affiliated with/run through Yale-Smilow Cancer Hospital. This is not necessarily a big deal (I can, for example, get my scans anywhere I want, not just at Yale), and the doctors and staff are all the same at the office. But there were some very obvious small changes: I have to get an ID bracelet when I arrive, just as if I would if I went to the hospital; it took them about 15 minutes to call me in for bloodwork (gone is that nice sign that said, "If you have been waiting for more than 10 minutes, please come and tell us at the desk"); and when they took my weight, it was in kilograms, not pounds. Also, the computers were all down because Yale was installing new software.
The change-over came on January 1, so it's only been a week under the new management, and they're naturally working out some kinks with all of the new procedures. I go back in May, so I'll withhold judgement on the changes until then....
**********************
Anyway, Dr. R said my bloodwork was "perfect" -- no signs of any problems. The physical exam revealed nothing wrong. And I'm feeling fine. So we're good for another 4 months.
The visit with Dr. R was a little different, though -- he seemed slightly more harried, maybe a little rushed. We didn't have quite as long a chat about our families -- that sort of thing.
He did give me a quick update on possible future directions for treatment, when I mentioned it's been just shy of 2 years since I had the Rituxan. He told us there was a "second-generation Rituxan" that was now being used. It's also an anti-CD20 monoclonal antibody. I knew just what he was talking about -- Ofatumumab -- but I didn't want to be obnoxious about it all and say the name, which he clearly couldn't remember. So he danced around his own forgetfulness, telling us that there were a bunch of Rituxan alternatives out there, with some slight variations ("Yes," I thought to myself, "they are humanized monoclonal antibodies"). He told us, still dancing around the name, that some of the Rituxan alternatives were derived from non-human sources. At this point, Isabel also frustrated with his not being able to remember stuff (or remember he was talking to a cancer research nerd), mouthed to me "mice!" without him seeing. He finally remembered that the source for these antibodies like Rituxan was mice, which made me and Isabel both smile. He also mentioned that there were some other antibodies being developed, some that targeted other CD proteins, like CD22 ("Yes," I thought, "that would be Eprituzamab").
I'm going to chalk up Dr. R's forgetfulness to the changes in the office management, which seemed to be throwing off everybody in the office in some way. And I want to point out again how good I was to not show him up with my own knowledge of current treatment options, and in not giving him the URL for this blog so he can learn more about all of this stuff on his own.
The bottom line is, I'm still healthy, everything looks good, and we can breath easy for a little while, anyway.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Betsy's Cancerversary
I'm going to celebrate someone's else's 10 year anniversary today: Betsy de Parry's. Today is 10 years since she's been diagnosed with lymphoma. More importantly, as she announced on Facebook two days ago, she just had a clean CT scan, and is now "disease free for 9 years, 3 months and 26 days. But who's counting?"
Regular readers know who Betsy is: author of the book Adventures in Cancerland, producer of the PBS series Candid Cancer, Lymphoma Goddess, and author of a column about cancer on AnnArbor.com. Her most recent column, "A Decade After a Cancer Diagnosis: Musings on Life," features her announcement about her good scan news and her cancerversary.
Betsy reflects a lot on some of the lessons she's learned in 10 years, and one really speaks to me today (as my own cancerversary approaches): "Cancer may leave our bodies, but it never leaves our lives."
She's talking about the bodies and lives of fellow cancer survivors, of course. She quotes some friends' wisdom on the same topic:
As a friend of mine says, "When your world has crashed before your eyes, it's hard to remember that anything could be something other than cancer."
Another adds, "We're scarred by our diagnosis. Every ache is a recurrence. Luckily, most of the time, reality is not as bad as our fears, but we become worry warriors."
It's essentially watching and waiting for a lifetime, isn't it? Those same little fears, aches, bumps, worries, they diminish over time, but never really go away.
The question is, what do you with all of them? What do you change? How do you deal?
Betsy has her own answers, which you can read about in the column. I'm still figuring out my own. I'll try to give you an update on January 15.
*****************
Like Betsy, my cancerversary is preceded by a check-up. Not a scan, just a check-up. I see Dr. R on Monday. I'm not anticipating anything newsworthy. But I'll give a report on Monday afternoon or evening, so feel free to check back.
Regular readers know who Betsy is: author of the book Adventures in Cancerland, producer of the PBS series Candid Cancer, Lymphoma Goddess, and author of a column about cancer on AnnArbor.com. Her most recent column, "A Decade After a Cancer Diagnosis: Musings on Life," features her announcement about her good scan news and her cancerversary.
Betsy reflects a lot on some of the lessons she's learned in 10 years, and one really speaks to me today (as my own cancerversary approaches): "Cancer may leave our bodies, but it never leaves our lives."
She's talking about the bodies and lives of fellow cancer survivors, of course. She quotes some friends' wisdom on the same topic:
As a friend of mine says, "When your world has crashed before your eyes, it's hard to remember that anything could be something other than cancer."
Another adds, "We're scarred by our diagnosis. Every ache is a recurrence. Luckily, most of the time, reality is not as bad as our fears, but we become worry warriors."
It's essentially watching and waiting for a lifetime, isn't it? Those same little fears, aches, bumps, worries, they diminish over time, but never really go away.
The question is, what do you with all of them? What do you change? How do you deal?
Betsy has her own answers, which you can read about in the column. I'm still figuring out my own. I'll try to give you an update on January 15.
*****************
Like Betsy, my cancerversary is preceded by a check-up. Not a scan, just a check-up. I see Dr. R on Monday. I'm not anticipating anything newsworthy. But I'll give a report on Monday afternoon or evening, so feel free to check back.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
The Year in Lymphoma
I resisted doing any kind of "year end list" this year -- either a list of my own or linking to a list of someone else's -- because I saw someone say on Twitter that he'd kill a bunny for every year-end list he saw on a blog.
But I couldn't resist linking to this one: it's the "Musings on Progress Against Lymphoma" written by Karl Schwartz, President of Patients Against Lymphoma, an organization that does a huge amount for Lymphoma Patients, through advocacy and education. They've benefited me in so many ways, directly and indirectly, and Karl is a master at explaining difficult things and putting them into a broader context. So I'm happy to share a link to his look back at 2011 and look ahead to 2012.
Karl discusses a number of treatment breakthroughs and milestones that took place last year. I'm kind of proud of myself for having discussed a bunch of these myself in Lympho Bob -- I have great respect for Karl and PAL, and it's nice to know that I can see the same significance that they have seen. Among Karl's significant picks for the year:
So, thank you Karl for all of your fine work. When I encounter a new Lymphoma patient, I send them to PAL first. It really is the best site I know of for basic and advanced information about our disease.
As a nonprofit, PAL accepts donations. Feel free to give to help them continue their mission. (They were one of the organizations that I suggested people donate to in lieu of giving me money on Pay A Blogger Day last year.)
(By the way, thanks to everyone who paid me on that day.)
(Yeah, that was sarcasm...)
But I couldn't resist linking to this one: it's the "Musings on Progress Against Lymphoma" written by Karl Schwartz, President of Patients Against Lymphoma, an organization that does a huge amount for Lymphoma Patients, through advocacy and education. They've benefited me in so many ways, directly and indirectly, and Karl is a master at explaining difficult things and putting them into a broader context. So I'm happy to share a link to his look back at 2011 and look ahead to 2012.
Karl discusses a number of treatment breakthroughs and milestones that took place last year. I'm kind of proud of myself for having discussed a bunch of these myself in Lympho Bob -- I have great respect for Karl and PAL, and it's nice to know that I can see the same significance that they have seen. Among Karl's significant picks for the year:
- "Bendamustine-R is supplanting R-CHOP as initial primary therapy for the indolent lymphomas." Significant for me, especially, since at the moment, this seems to be Dr. R's choice for treatment if/when I need it again (not that I anticipate needing it in the foreseeable future). There's still nothing close to a consensus among practioners for preferred first-line treatment for Follicular NHL, but B-R is certainly getting a lot of attention lately.
- Rituxan-as-needed showing the same results as Rituxan Maintenance. As Karl says, "The findings of this CER study (about 12 years after the approval of the drug!) should substantially reduce the cost of health care (an increasing concern in our times) while decreasing the amount of treatment we are exposed to in order to achieve the same result. Importantly, using less Rituxan may also reduce the incidence of infections, which can impair our quality of life of course … and is also expensive to treat." No additional comment from me, other than to point out that I'm on the Rituxan-as-needed train....
- Finally, "Meanwhile, the place of radioimmunotherapy (RIT) remains uncertain." As Karl points out (and as I have reported over the last 4 years), RIT is effective but underused for a number of reasons. But Zevalin keeps chugging along, chipping away at the resistance that doctors and insurers have displayed.
So, thank you Karl for all of your fine work. When I encounter a new Lymphoma patient, I send them to PAL first. It really is the best site I know of for basic and advanced information about our disease.
As a nonprofit, PAL accepts donations. Feel free to give to help them continue their mission. (They were one of the organizations that I suggested people donate to in lieu of giving me money on Pay A Blogger Day last year.)
(By the way, thanks to everyone who paid me on that day.)
(Yeah, that was sarcasm...)
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Coast Soap
This morning, as I was picking up some manly-smelling soap for my 14 year old, I caught sight of something I hadn't seen in a long time in my grocery store: Coast Soap.
As I lamented in Lympho Bob, way back in March 2009, the Dial Corp stopped making my favorite soap, the classic, original Coast, replacing it with something called "Coast Pacific Force" -- definitely not the eye-opening scent that I had enjoyed for so long. Even worse, they just stopped selling it anywhere near me (within 100 miles of me, according to their web site at the time). I had to rely on a sister-in-law, and on my mom, to keep me supplied with the new stuff, even if it wasn't as good as the original scent.
I wasn't alone in being so upset. Missy Ward, in a now classic YouTube video and blog post, expressed her disappointment in the changes to Coast's scent. [Obligatory cancer connection: Missy Ward raises funds for breast cancer research.] This was followed up by Moe Picante's video rant (be warned -- he's passionate, and he swears a lot) about the new Coast soap. There's a Facebook page called Bring Back Coast Original Soap. Clearly, I'm not the only sicko who misses The Eye-Opener.
So when I looked at the package in the grocery store this morning, I was even more thrilled than I was by its mere presence. It said, "Throwback -- Celebrating 35 years!" I mean, there's even an exclamation point! How much more exciting could this get!?"
But something...seemed...wrong....
I didn't buy the soap. I figured it would still be there the next time I was there, and I still have about 40 bars of Pacific Force from the last time my mother cleared out a store shelf for me.
Instead, I went home and did some research.
It turns out that the only thing that is "thrown back" is the packaging. It's not the old, original scent Coast. It's just the same, new Pacific Force scent, in 35 year old packaging.
That's sad. And I'm upset about it (though not as upset as this guy who is filing a false advertising claim against them).
I appreciate my grocery store carrying the new stuff, because it's still better than the alternatives. But that doesn't mean I'm happy.
As I lamented in Lympho Bob, way back in March 2009, the Dial Corp stopped making my favorite soap, the classic, original Coast, replacing it with something called "Coast Pacific Force" -- definitely not the eye-opening scent that I had enjoyed for so long. Even worse, they just stopped selling it anywhere near me (within 100 miles of me, according to their web site at the time). I had to rely on a sister-in-law, and on my mom, to keep me supplied with the new stuff, even if it wasn't as good as the original scent.
I wasn't alone in being so upset. Missy Ward, in a now classic YouTube video and blog post, expressed her disappointment in the changes to Coast's scent. [Obligatory cancer connection: Missy Ward raises funds for breast cancer research.] This was followed up by Moe Picante's video rant (be warned -- he's passionate, and he swears a lot) about the new Coast soap. There's a Facebook page called Bring Back Coast Original Soap. Clearly, I'm not the only sicko who misses The Eye-Opener.
So when I looked at the package in the grocery store this morning, I was even more thrilled than I was by its mere presence. It said, "Throwback -- Celebrating 35 years!" I mean, there's even an exclamation point! How much more exciting could this get!?"
But something...seemed...wrong....
I didn't buy the soap. I figured it would still be there the next time I was there, and I still have about 40 bars of Pacific Force from the last time my mother cleared out a store shelf for me.
Instead, I went home and did some research.
It turns out that the only thing that is "thrown back" is the packaging. It's not the old, original scent Coast. It's just the same, new Pacific Force scent, in 35 year old packaging.
That's sad. And I'm upset about it (though not as upset as this guy who is filing a false advertising claim against them).
I appreciate my grocery store carrying the new stuff, because it's still better than the alternatives. But that doesn't mean I'm happy.
Monday, January 2, 2012
The War on Cancer
Happy 2012.
I thought I'd start the new year by looking back -- it's been a little over 40 years since then President Nixon declared a "war on cancer," on December 23, 1971, increasing funding for research and bringing cancer into the national consciousness. It's been a heck of a fight, and while the war isn't over, we've clearly won some battles.
December 23's edition of "Science Friday," the NPR radio show, looked at the War on Cancer. (You can listen to the broadcast, or read a transcript, at this link.)
The guest on the show was Dr. Harold Varmus, currently the director of the National Cancer Institute, and winner of the 1989 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for his cancer research, which showed how normal genes are transformed by carcinogens and thus cause cancer. In the broadcast, Dr. Varmus addresses a bunch of issues in cancer research that show how things have changed in the last 40 years.
For instance, Varmus discusses personalization, and the trend toward treating each patient's cancer as unique. He also expresses some excitement at attempts to use the body's immune system to fight off cancer, something that researchers were't very excited about until recently. He discusses this particularly in terms of the use of antibodies, which are the body's natural defense against invaders, and the success that researchers have had in using them. (He doesn't mention Rituxan specifically, but it fits into that discussion.) He mentions the treatment Ipilimumab, which messes with the body's suppression mechanism, allowing it to fight off cancer on its own. This treatment has been successful in about 30% of patients with melanoma.
He also discusses some other cutting-edge issues, like genome mapping and micro-environment studies, things that I've been reading a lot about and trying to report here.
Overall, it's a nice broadcast, touching on a number of current issues. But mostly it's a nice reminder of how far we've come in the last 40 years. My guess is that we'll make even more progress more quickly than we have since Nixon was president.
That's my wish for the new year, anyway.
I thought I'd start the new year by looking back -- it's been a little over 40 years since then President Nixon declared a "war on cancer," on December 23, 1971, increasing funding for research and bringing cancer into the national consciousness. It's been a heck of a fight, and while the war isn't over, we've clearly won some battles.
December 23's edition of "Science Friday," the NPR radio show, looked at the War on Cancer. (You can listen to the broadcast, or read a transcript, at this link.)
The guest on the show was Dr. Harold Varmus, currently the director of the National Cancer Institute, and winner of the 1989 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for his cancer research, which showed how normal genes are transformed by carcinogens and thus cause cancer. In the broadcast, Dr. Varmus addresses a bunch of issues in cancer research that show how things have changed in the last 40 years.
For instance, Varmus discusses personalization, and the trend toward treating each patient's cancer as unique. He also expresses some excitement at attempts to use the body's immune system to fight off cancer, something that researchers were't very excited about until recently. He discusses this particularly in terms of the use of antibodies, which are the body's natural defense against invaders, and the success that researchers have had in using them. (He doesn't mention Rituxan specifically, but it fits into that discussion.) He mentions the treatment Ipilimumab, which messes with the body's suppression mechanism, allowing it to fight off cancer on its own. This treatment has been successful in about 30% of patients with melanoma.
He also discusses some other cutting-edge issues, like genome mapping and micro-environment studies, things that I've been reading a lot about and trying to report here.
Overall, it's a nice broadcast, touching on a number of current issues. But mostly it's a nice reminder of how far we've come in the last 40 years. My guess is that we'll make even more progress more quickly than we have since Nixon was president.
That's my wish for the new year, anyway.
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