“In a life touched by tragedy, Rona Ramon, wife of Israeli astronaut Ilan Ramon, was determined to choose life – and to help others cope with grief and sorrow as well. Rona died from pancreatic cancer on December 17, 2018 at the age of 54, but her legacy of hope and resilience endures.”
Finished yesterday my sixth or seventh colonoscopy. Hard to remember as they’ve been coming at five-year intervals. This was the easiest by far, thanks to HyGieaCare, which obviates the necessity of drinking even 12 ounces (with lots of water) of awful, nauseating stuff I can only call motor oil.
An all-around shitty subject this, but a worthwhile alert if you have a first-degree relative whose death was due to or preceded by colon cancer. In my case they were my father and his father. If so, see a gastroenterologist and get on with it.
Five Four polyps were found this time, versus six last time (in 2013), but it’ll be a week or so until I find out if any of them were malignant. Never have found one such so don’t know what the protocol would be. Hope not to find out.
UPDATE: No cancer but two of the four were pre-cancerous so the doc has me down for another test in 2020—two-year interval instead of five.
“The prize recognizes [M.D. Anderson medical researcher Jim] Allison’s basic science discoveries on the biology of T cells, the adaptive immune system’s soldiers, and his invention of [an] immune checkpoint blockade to treat cancer. Allison’s crucial insight was to block a protein on T cells that acts as a brake on their activation, freeing the T cells to attack cancer.”
A blues mouth harpist who, up to this point, had counted playing backup to Willie Nelson as the high point of his life.
Just a little (3 years on the 22nd) late to help Mrs. Charm. And so far the drugs made from his work don’t treat her non-Hodgkins lymphoma anyway.
Via University of Texas M.D. Anderson Cancer Center
Second-hand smoke health hazards are hysterical, bureaucratic bullsh*t.
“…I found myself thinking of my friend and colleague John Ringo’s signature line which is: We went to the moon on coffee, bourbon and Marlboros. We’re not going to Mars on Evian and tofu.”
So, so sadly true. Read it all.
This time they’re going after the boutique cigar business, all in the dubious name of public health.
“If you are still buying the anti-smoking crusaders’ propaganda that second-hand smoke is killing many thousands of people every year just ask them to point to a single study that tells you what level of exposure to second hand smoke is dangerous. They can’t tell you because it has never been measured in any of the so called ‘scientific studies’ which for the most part are simply surveys of people who have lung cancer and can remember being exposed to second hand smoke at some point in their life. It’s not science, it’s propaganda.”
The ruling class will always be able to find premium cigars. They just don’t want it to be easy for you.
Via Self Reliance Central.
Tar and feathers are too good for these big government motherfuckers. Who are, quite simply, always on the lookout for new ways to justify their fat salaries and skinny efforts. While the pols are too busy thieving to help. Rope. Lamp post.
“You can bet that if the powers that be were in intractable pain they would figure out a way to get the opioids. I have a mother-in-law with spinal stenosis who was in so much pain last week that she was crying vigorously. She’s a stoic who has hardly ever cried in her entire life, but the pain was unbearable. We were able to get her fentanyl patches and the pain is reduced. However, the doctors are limited in what they can give her and it is quite scary.” —veryskeptic
“What’s it like for the kids when your mom is suffering excruciating pain because the doctor’s afraid to prescribe her enough medication to deal with the pain caused by cancer? When it seems to take an act of Congress to get a prescription for synthetic THC to deal with nausea brought on by the anti-cancer medication? When your mother starves to death because she can’t eat for the nausea and pain? And you have to watch her suffer and die because some bureaucrat was worried she might become addicted.” —Rob Crawford
Mrs. Charm was also a stoic and she was also in bad pain from her lymphoma cancer but in her case it was more a stubborn refusal to buck bad medical advice than government interference. When she finally did agree to take the pills and later the injections she died in relative peace.
My grandfather, however, died in excruciating pain because his spinal cancer occurred at a time (1935) when the bureaucrats were just starting to restrict the opioids that had, throughout his life, been available without a prescription.
Big government is not your friend. Whatever lying dipshits like Obama and Clinton say.
Hadn’t been back to view my Amazon reviews for months. Last review was on a good cat scratcher for Senor Gato. Before that, though, it was September 14, 2015, about the time Mrs. Charms’ cancer treatments were becoming seriously ineffective.
In checking the old ones out before doing a new one of Arkwright, a new Allen Steele scifi goodie, I discover Amazon has a “safe space,” a filter to automatically hide reviews of “sensitive products”—defined as anything erotic or controversial that might mean embarrassment for a reader of the reviews.
Concern for the precious little snowflake generation, in other words, readily noticeable on any college campus near you, has now come to the world’s largest retailer. Ugh.