Of The Rack

That's right. This here post concerns hooter health, mine and everylady's.

Last week I had an ultrasound guided needle aspiration of a breast cyst. Everything is just fine, garden variety cyst, but since nothing is too personal to blog about, I wanted to share the experience with my devoted reader.
My boob was pumped full of Novacain so I didn't feel anything, and was able to watch the whole procedure on the ultrasound monitor. The doctor sucked the cyst fluid out with a syringe, and then because of some indistinguishable gray blobs on the screen, took some tissue samples, too. When I did look down at the end, gah, glad I didn't look down before because it was bloodier than I thought it would have been and also the implement the doc used to take the tissue samples looked like a caulk gun.

The coolest part was watching the needles, which appeared like a thin white line on the monitor, pierce the wall of the black blob of a cyst, and deflate it in the blink of an eye. The cysts walls stay, and though there's a chance that it will fill up again, the good news is that it will always be benign. I felt just the littlest bit sick when he showed me the teeny worms of tissue floating in a jar and the syringe full of yellowish fluid to be sent off to the lab. All that remains is a small puncture wound surrounded by a bruise and that, as they say, is that.

A day after this, the FDA approved the use of Avastin for breast cancer. Already approved for colorectal and lung cancer, Avastin brought in 2.3 billion last year in the United States alone for its creator, Genentech. So far sounds like good news for women, especially those living with breast cancer, waiting for the next drug. But there's a slight catch: the FDA approved the drug against the recommendation of its own advisory panel. In studies, Avastin had slowed the growth of tumors, but not increased survival rates. Here's the text from the committee:

Many committee members agreed that Progression Free Survival is a clinically meaningful endpoint but had issues with how best to measure this endpoint. Although the overall survival (OS) endpoint was not met, most felt that no progression is better than progression in the minds of patients. The committee also reaffirmed that if PFS is to be used then studies must also be powered for survival to ensure that benefit out way the risks. One committee member mentioned that an overall survival requirement in 1st line breast cancer is difficult to achieve due to
challenges with monitoring.

Please see the transcript for detailed discussion.

2. Summary results:
• Estimated 5.5 month improvement in median PFS claimed by Genentech
• No improvement in OS
• Increased toxicity/toxic death
• No effect on PFS or OS in 2nd and 3rd line MBC

Are the data provided sufficient to establish a favorable risk/benefit analysis for the use of bevacizumab plus paclitaxel for first-line treatment of patients with metastatic breast cancer ? (Voting Question)

Vote : Yes=4 No = 5 Abstain = 0

Not all advocacy groups are pleased with this new option. The National Breast Cancer Coalition opposes the move, saying that the FDA has "lowered the bar" by approving a drug that is not shown to be effective or safe. You can read NBCC's thoughts about Avastin here.

This is a tricky one. Even if the drug approval is ultimately pulled, as was the case with AstraZeneca’s lung cancer drug, Iressa, when trials showed it did not prolong survival, Genentech stands to makes buckets of money from the increased prescriptions that will accompany expanded FDA approval. But, it also means that many more women will have another treatment option available to them, since many insurers will not pay for "off label" prescriptions.

Of course what lies at the very root of this issue is that the American health care system does not meet the needs of most Americans, the line between science and industry is way too permeable and neither Clinton, who offers mandated insurance with penalties for those that don't comply, nor Obama, whose refusal to mandate health insurance could still see more than 15 million people uninsured, seem to offer options that are really what we need, truly universal healthcare.

Happy Monday!

Favorite Things, Furbaby

Since I've been spending an awful lot of time at home, little touches that make home more, well, homey, have become ever more important. Right now I'm loving my Voluspa Sawara Cypress candle. I'm not even linking you to the Voluspa site because it's so precious and irritating. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor here, but if you want to be annoyed, check it out.

The Sawara Cypress scent is deliciously woody and incense-y, like a grove of cedars sprouting up in the middle of an old church. I bought the glass votive at a local boutique for $6.95, a bit steep for a candle but if you factor in all the delighted swooning I've done, well then that's quite a bargain, innit?

I do have another motive here, which is to cover up the stench of kitten poop that permeates every corner of my apartment. The malodorousness of kitten poo appears to be well-documented on the interwebs, but knowing I have company hasn't lifted my misery. I'm in the process of changing their food from one stupidly expensive brand to another even more expensive brand . Hopefully this will help. I guess I should also stop feeding them Twinkies, but watching their attempts to lick the plasticky cream off their noses is one pleasure I just can't forgo.

One last kitten related item: I'm not sure if it's related to age, the warmer weather, or the diet change, but shedding has kicked in something fierce. Seemingly overnight, their fur has transformed from baby-fine and fluffy to something more coarse. I brushed them both this morning, or rather I brushed Gus while Josephine ran for dear life and I had enough fur on the comb to make a third kitten.

Show Dogs

I'm sure you've all heard by now that a beagle has won best in show at Westminster for the first time. You can see the riveting video of Uno here , but the best part of this video for me was the freakshow poodles. The rest of the runner-ups are recognizable as dogs, but the poodles appear to be unfinished nursery school projects involving safety scissors and cotton balls.

Hopefully by now you've also all seen Best in Show, a Christopher Guest mockumentary chronicling the dog show circuit. But what I don't remember Best in Show addressing, and perhaps someone can help me remember, is why do show dogs have such asinine names? Uno's "real" name is Ch. K-Run’s Park Me In First. Another Westminster competitor, Ch. Colsidex Seabreeze Perfect Fit, aka "Marge." Ch. Redwitch Reason To Believe, aka "Macey."

What the hell is "Ch."? Child? Chicken? Chitlin? Churro? I haven't had dinner yet. Since I have no excuse for at least not attempting to answer the questions I pose here, I discover that "Ch." means the dog is an AKC Champion. Not as interesting as my explanation, but fine.

A typically American "scandal" breaks: Jane Fonda is in trouble for using "slang" for the vagina on television. Have you ever seen anything so salacious? Disgusting. It's almost as bad as when I was forced to look at Janet Jackson's nipple for one quarter of a nanosecond.

Windy City

It's very windy here in the bay area. The accompanying banging, clanging and cacophany of car alarms has poor Gus in a tizzy, his tail in a constant state of outrageous fluff.

Speaking of cars, I've been so proud that I religiously bring the car for oil changes. Did I ever consult my owner's manual to check the correct interval? Why should I, when the little sticker slapped on the windshield will tell me? Turns out the little sticker may be wrong. Not only am I changing my oil twice as often as I need to, it's at detriment to the environment. This website can help you figure out how often you should really be changing your oil, or you could just, you know, check your manual. Ahem.

In more shallow news, here's a hot picture of Natalie Portman with the weirdly made-up Olsen twin-lemur hybrid also known as ScarJo, who may be getting engaged to Ryan Reynolds, as her recent wedding dress shopping outing with mom might suggest. Also, I'm seeing a lot of commentary on the interwebs about Christina Aguilera's boobs, so take a look for yourself. Pretty impressive.

Professional Critic Rolls In It

If you're a regular reader of any of the linked blogs over yonder, you know that blogging can be a source of income and for some like Dooce, her blog supports her family of three. I'm happy to announce that I, too, can join the ranks of the blogging rich. In the nearly two years that I have had this blog, I have earned almost ten whole dollars.

You won't be surprised to hear I have big plans for this money. For example, I can buy almost a whole bag of kitten food. Or half a bag of World's Finest Cat Litter. This will be enough for one pound of Peet's House Blend, a quarter of a tank of gas, half of an oil change, five pairs of undies from Ross (tax not included), or one seventh of a currently outstanding parking ticket to the city of Oakland.

Because this windfall has triggered my money lust, I've also added a Google search function on the right. You can search my blog or the interweb and for any clicked search result I earn one one hundreth of a cent! I'm already looking to wrest a Greek island from the clutches of Athina Onassis. The horizon of possibilities stretches before me, reader, and with your help, I will get there.

(For those of you on tenterhooks about my dicey cell situation: I did go to AT&T yesterday and the nice saleswoman opened my phone, took a little doohickey out of it, said something like, "blah blah blah ... sim card ... blah blah software ... old blah blah ... cell tower ... blah reception blah" put a different doohickey in it and sent me on my way. We'll see if it works or of my phone will sleep with the fishes.)

You Care, You Really Care!

I almost threw my cellphone off the Bay Bridge tonight. My carrier is AT&T, formerly Cingular, but whatever you want to call it, the coverage is frightfully bad. I might as well be talking into a soup can. If you didn't know, San Francisco is a peninsula of seven square miles, which I drive through everyday. Tiny. I'm sure there's a mall somewhere in the world bigger than the city by the bay. So I totally fail to understand why there is even one dead spot within the city limits, but in fact there are too many to count, and I hit all of them, everyday. Which is beyond annoying to me, not to mention those I'm talking to. I was talking to The Mama tonight and over the course of ten minutes I dropped our call three times. Eventually I gave up--nothing I have to say is worth that kind of effort. "Fewest dropped calls in the network," my ass! The network of dead people whose loved ones forgot to cancel their plans, you bet.

It's not just me-- Consumer Reports doesn't have much good to say about AT&T. Would have been nice if I read this before I got a cellphone, but then I would have nothing to complain about, and that's no fun for a Professional Kvetcher. I was all hyped up to switch but I did some reading and discovered that it may be worth upgrading to a new phone before giving up. This phone is over two years old and in technology, that's like chiseling your grocery list onto a stone tablet.

But on the flip side I got home to a survey asking me about my most recent experience with my gynecologist, which I was able to complete online. I love participating in these kinds of surveys because I'm at least given the semblance of caring from my provider. Most of the time the services industry could give a shit about you knowing that they don't give a shit, one of the more alienating aspects of our consumer-driven culture. So I was able to praise my doctor, who I think is genuinely a good doctor, and not her office staff, who are so-so but really could be a whole lot better.

And thus the day reached its conclusion, but before I turn to my glass of wine: Angelina, stop being coy. If you're far enough along to wear a muumuu every fucking day, you can tell us you're knocked up. Really.

Matt Damon?

Since it's the weekend I might as well go ahead and show you something that is definitely not safe for work. I like Sarah Silverman okay and Matt Damon so-so but liked them both so much more after watching this. I always thought Matt Damon was bland and uninteresting but maybe I've been getting him confused with Ben Affleck.

Since I'm always looking for smart conservation ideas that require no work from my end, I really like the idea of recycling sewage into drinking water. It is a little gross to consider your glass of water once floated Mr. Hanky, but when I read what kinds of scary junk is in non-recycled tap water, I had to reconsider.

Josie got her stitches out today, so she is now funnel-free. I've never seen a cat delight so in licking herself. Now that she can actually play without getting her cone snagged on things, she and Gus are tearing around the apartment in such a lunatic fashion I long for a helmet and protective eye gear.

Part of my grief program involves drinking wine every evening. While I was at home I really enjoyed a Malbec that my sister had bought, it was so yummy without any of that moisture-sucking quality of a cabernet. I bought a bottle at Trader Joe's from Argentina, for $2.99. A suspiciously low cost for a bottle of wine, right? But it was good. I know nothing about Malbec, so I looked it up and saw this crazy graph which prompted immediate eye-rolling about the nutty oenophiles.