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Immune-boosting drug ‘could change the world' for cancer patients – warding off killer for years

Immune-boosting drug ‘could change the world' for cancer patients – warding off killer for years

Scottish Sun6 days ago

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AN immune boosting drug can stave off throat cancer for years longer than current treatments, a trial found.
Recovering head and neck cancer patients treated with pembrolizumab, also known as Keytruda, remained cancer-free for an average of five years.
2
Immunotherapy drug pembrolizumab could help cancer patients live longer, scientists say
Credit: AP:Associated Press
That was twice as long as the 2.5 years for patients given regular chemotherapy.
The risk of tumour cells spreading elsewhere in the body was also 10 per cent lower, the Institute for Cancer Research in London found.
Pembrolizumab is an immunotherapy that is given before and after surgery.
It works by boosting the body's own ability to seek and destroy cancer cells.
Professor Kevin Harrington, trial leader author from the ICR and consultant oncologist at the Royal Marsden NHS Foundation Trust, said: 'For patients with newly-diagnosed, locally-advanced head and neck cancer, treatments haven't changed in over two decades.
'Immunotherapy has been amazingly beneficial for patients with cancer that has come back or spread around the body but, until now, it hasn't been as successful for those presenting for the first time with disease which has spread to nearby areas.
'This research shows that immunotherapy could change the world for these patients.
'It significantly decreases the chance of cancer spreading around the body, at which point it's incredibly difficult to treat.
'The results of this trial show that pembrolizumab dramatically increases the duration of disease remission – for years longer than the current standard treatments.'
Head and neck cancer refers to a group of cancers that can develop anywhere in the head or neck, including the mouth, the oesophagus, the space behind the nose, the salivary gland, and the voice box.
Common bacteria in the mouth can 'melt up to 99% of cancer cells' and could lead to new treatments
Standard care, which includes surgery to remove tumours followed by radiotherapy with or without chemotherapy, has not changed for these patients in more than 20 years, according to researchers.
The global Keynote-689 trial was carried out at 192 sites in 24 countries, and involved 714 patients.
Some 363 people received pembrolizumab followed by standard care, with the remainder receiving standard care only.
Pembrolizumab works by targeting a protein known as PD-L1, which is found on T cells and helps the immune system recognise and fight cancer.
By blocking this protein, the treatment helps the immune system fight cancer more effectively.
The treatment is already approved for use on its own or in combination with chemotherapy for patients with a certain type of head and neck cancer that has come back or spread around the body.
The trial, which is being presented at the American Society of Clinical Oncology (Asco) annual meeting, found cancer returned in half the patients given pembrolizumab after five years, compared with two-and-a-half years in those receiving standard care.
After three years, the risk of cancer returning somewhere else in the body was also 10 per cent lower among those on pembrolizumab.
'It could change the world'
'It works particularly well for those with high levels of immune markers,' Prof Harrington said
'But it's really exciting to see that the treatment improves outcomes for all head and neck cancer patients, regardless of these levels.'
Around 13,000 Brits develop head and neck cancers each year and 4,200 die from them.
Many tumours are linked to smoking.
Symptoms vary depending on the type of cancer but include: persistent ulcers, white or red patches, lumps, sores and pain.

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Texas hospital that discharged woman with doomed pregnancy broke the law, inquiry finds
Texas hospital that discharged woman with doomed pregnancy broke the law, inquiry finds

NBC News

timea day ago

  • NBC News

Texas hospital that discharged woman with doomed pregnancy broke the law, inquiry finds

WASHINGTON — A Texas hospital that repeatedly sent a woman who was bleeding and in pain home without ending her nonviable, life-threatening pregnancy violated the law, according to a newly released federal investigation. The government's findings, which have not been previously reported, were a small victory for 36-year-old Kyleigh Thurman, who ultimately lost part of her reproductive system after being discharged after receiving no help from her hometown emergency room for her dangerous ectopic pregnancy. But a new policy the Trump administration announced Tuesday has thrown into doubt the federal government's stance on hospitals' denying women emergency abortions, even when they are at risk for serious infection, organ loss or severe hemorrhaging. Thurman had hoped the federal government's investigation, which was concluded last year and issued a report in April, would send a clear message that ectopic pregnancies must be treated by hospitals in Texas, which has one of the nation's strictest abortion bans. 'I didn't want anyone else to have to go through this,' Thurman said in an interview with the Associated Press from her Texas home this week. 'I put a lot of the responsibility on the state Uncertainty regarding emergency abortion access Women around the country have been denied emergency abortions for their life-threatening pregnancies after states swiftly enacted abortion restrictions in response to a 2022 ruling from the U.S. Supreme Court, which includes three appointees of President Donald Trump. The guidance issued by the Biden administration in 2022 was an effort to preserve access to emergency abortions for extreme cases in which women were in medical emergencies. It directed hospitals — even ones in states with severe restrictions — to provide abortions in those emergency cases. If hospitals did not comply, they would be in violation of a federal law and risk losing some federal funds. The Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, the federal agency responsible for enforcing the law and inspecting hospitals, announced on Tuesday it would revoke the Biden-era guidance around emergency abortions. CMS administrator Dr. Mehmet Oz said in a social media post on Wednesday that the revocation of the policy would not prevent pregnant women from getting treatment in medical emergencies. 'The Biden Administration created confusion, but EMTALA is clear and the law has not changed: women will receive care for miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, and medical emergencies in all fifty states—this has not and will never change in the Trump Administration,' Oz wrote, using the acronyms for the Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act. The law, which remains intact and requires doctors to provide stabilizing treatment, was one of the few ways that Thurman was able to hold the emergency room accountable after she didn't receive any help from staff at Ascension Seton Williamson in Round Rock, Texas, in February 2023, a few months after Texas enacted its strict abortion ban. An ectopic pregnancy left untreated Emergency room staff observed that Thurman's hormone levels had dropped, a pregnancy was not visible in her uterus and a structure was blocking her fallopian tube — all telltale signs of an ectopic pregnancy, when a fetus implants outside of the uterus and has no room to grow. If left untreated, ectopic pregnancies can rupture, causing organ damage, hemorrhage or even death. Thurman, however, was sent home and given a pamphlet on miscarriage for her first pregnancy. She returned three days later, still bleeding, and was given an injected drug intended to end the pregnancy, but it was too late. Days later, she showed up again at the emergency room, hemorrhaging because the fertilized egg growing on Thurman's fallopian tube ruptured it. She underwent an emergency surgery that removed part of her reproductive system. CMS launched its investigation of how Ascension Seton Williamson handled Thurman's case late last year, shortly after she filed a complaint. Investigators concluded the hospital failed to give her a proper medical screening exam, including an evaluation with an OB-GYN. The hospital violated the federal Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act, which requires emergency rooms to provide stabilizing treatment to all patients. Thurman was 'at risk for deterioration of her health and wellbeing as a result of an untreated medical condition,' the investigation said in its report, which was publicly released last month. Ascension, a vast hospital system that has facilities across multiple states, did not respond to questions about Thurman's case, saying only that it is 'is committed to providing high-quality care to all who seek our services.' Penalties for doctors, hospital staff Doctors and legal experts have warned that abortion restrictions like the one Texas enacted have discouraged emergency room staff from aborting dangerous and nonviable pregnancies, even when a woman's life is imperiled. The stakes are especially high in Texas, where doctors face up to 99 years in prison if convicted of performing an illegal abortion. Lawmakers in the state are weighing a law that would remove criminal penalties for doctors who provide abortions in certain medical emergencies. 'We see patients with miscarriages being denied care, bleeding out in parking lots. We see patients with nonviable pregnancies being told to continue those to term,' said Molly Duane, an attorney at the Center for Reproductive Rights that represented Thurman. 'This is not, maybe, what some people thought abortion bans would look like, but this is the reality.' The Biden administration routinely warned hospitals that they needed to provide abortions when a woman's health was in jeopardy, even suing Idaho over its state law that initially prohibited nearly all abortions, unless a woman's life was on the line. Questions remain about hospital investigations But CMS' announcement on Tuesday raises questions about whether such investigations will continue if hospitals do not provide abortions for women in medical emergencies. The agency said it will still enforce the law, 'including for identified emergency medical conditions that place the health of a pregnant woman or her unborn child in serious jeopardy.' While states like Texas have clarified that ectopic pregnancies can legally be treated with abortions, the laws do not provide for every complication that might arise during a pregnancy. Several women in Texas have sued the state for its law, which has prevented women from terminating pregnancies in cases where their fetuses had deadly fetal anomalies or they went into labor too early for the fetus to survive. Thurman worries pregnant patients with serious complications still won't be able to get the help they may need in Texas emergency rooms. 'You cannot predict the ways a pregnancy can go,' Thurman said. 'It can happen to anyone, still. There's still so many ways in which pregnancies that aren't ectopic can be deadly.'

Groundbreaking gay author Edmund White dies at 85
Groundbreaking gay author Edmund White dies at 85

South Wales Argus

time2 days ago

  • South Wales Argus

Groundbreaking gay author Edmund White dies at 85

White's death was confirmed on Wednesday by his agent, Bill Clegg, who did not immediately provide additional details. Along with Larry Kramer, Armistead Maupin and others, White was among a generation of gay writers who in the 1970s became bards for a community no longer afraid to declare its existence. He was present at the Stonewall raids of 1969, when arrests at a club in Greenwich Village led to the birth of the modern gay movement, and for decades was a participant and observer through the tragedy of Aids, the advance of gay rights and culture and the backlash of recent years. A resident of New York and Paris for much of his adult life, he was a novelist, journalist, biographer, playwright, activist, teacher and memoirist. Author Edmund White at his home in New York in 2019 (Mary Altaffer/AP) A Boy's Own Story was a bestseller and classic coming-of-age novel that demonstrated gay literature's commercial appeal. He wrote a prizewinning biography of playwright Jean Genet and books on Marcel Proust and Arthur Rimbaud. He was a professor of creative writing at Princeton University, where colleagues included Toni Morrison and his close friend, Joyce Carol Oates. He was an encyclopaedic reader who absorbed literature worldwide while returning yearly to such favourites as Tolstoy's Anna Karenina and Henry Green's Nothing. 'Among gay writers of his generation, Edmund White has emerged as the most versatile man of letters,' cultural critic Morris Dickstein wrote in The New York Times in 1995. 'A cosmopolitan writer with a deep sense of tradition, he has bridged the gap between gay subcultures and a broader literary audience.' In early 1982, just as the public was learning about Aids, White was among the founders of Gay Men's Health Crisis, which advocated Aids prevention and education. The author himself would learn that he was HIV-positive in 1985, and would remember friends afraid to be kissed by him, even on the cheek, and parents who did not want him to touch their babies. White survived, but watched countless peers and loved ones die. Out of the seven gay men, including White, who formed the influential writing group the Violet Quill, four died of complications from Aids. As White wrote in his elegiac novel The Farewell Symphony, the story followed a shocking arc: 'Oppressed in the fifties, freed in the sixties, exalted in the seventies and wiped out in the eighties.' But in the 1990s he lived to see gay people granted the right to marry and serve in the military, to see gay-themed books taught in schools and to see gay writers so widely published that they no longer needed to write about gay lives. 'We're in this post-gay period where you can announce to everybody that you yourself are gay, and you can write books in which there are gay characters, but you don't need to write exclusively about that,' he said in a Salon interview in 2009. 'Your characters don't need to inhabit a ghetto any more than you do. A straight writer can write a gay novel and not worry about it, and a gay novelist can write about straight people.' In 2019, White received a National Book Award medal for lifetime achievement, an honour previously given to Morrison and Philip Roth among others. 'To go from the most maligned to a highly lauded writer in a half-century is astonishing,' White said during his acceptance speech. White was born in Cincinnati in 1940, but age at seven moved with his mother to the Chicago area after his parents divorced. His father was a civil engineer, his mother a psychologist 'given to rages or fits of weeping'. Trapped in 'the closed, snivelling, resentful world of childhood,' at times suicidal, White was at the same time a 'fierce little autodidact' who sought escape through the stories of others, whether Thomas Mann's Death In Venice or a biography of the dancer Vaslav Nijinsky. 'As a young teenager I looked desperately for things to read that might excite me or assure me I wasn't the only one, that might confirm my identity I was unhappily piecing together,' he wrote in the essay Out Of The Closet, On To The Bookshelf, published in 1991. Even as he secretly wrote a 'coming out' novel while a teenager, he insisted on seeing a therapist and begged to be sent to boarding school. Edmund White was one of the leading gay American authors (Mary Altaffer/AP) After graduating from the University of Michigan, where he majored in Chinese, he moved to New York in the early 1960s and worked for years as a writer for Time-Life Books and an editor for The Saturday Review. He would interview Tennessee Williams and Truman Capote among others, and, for some assignments, was joined by photographer Robert Mapplethorpe. Socially, he met William S Burroughs, Jasper Johns, Christopher Isherwood and John Ashbery. He remembered drinking espresso with an ambitious singer named Naomi Cohen, whom the world would soon know as 'Mama Cass' of the Mamas and Papas. He feuded with Kramer, Gore Vidal and Susan Sontag, an early supporter who withdrew a blurb for 'A Boy's Own Story' after he caricatured her in the novel Caracole. 'In all my years of therapy I never got to the bottom of my impulse toward treachery, especially toward people who'd helped me and befriended me,' he later wrote. Through much of the 1960s, he was writing novels that were rejected or never finished. Late at night, he would 'dress as a hippie, and head out for the bars'. A favourite stop was the Stonewall and he was in the neighbourhood on the night of June 28 1969, when police raided the Stonewall and 'all hell broke loose.' 'Up until that moment we had all thought homosexuality was a medical term,' wrote White, who soon joined the protests. 'Suddenly we saw that we could be a minority group — with rights, a culture, an agenda.' His works included Skinned Alive: Stories and the novel A Previous Life, in which he turns himself into a fictional character and imagines himself long forgotten after his death. In 2009, he published City Boy, a memoir of New York in the 1960s and 1970s in which he told of his friendships and rivalries and gave the real names of fictional characters from his earlier novels. 'From an early age I had the idea that writing was truth-telling,' he told The Guardian. 'It's on the record. Everybody can see it. Maybe it goes back to the sacred origins of literature – the holy book. 'There's nothing holy about it for me, but it should be serious and it should be totally transparent.'

Groundbreaking gay author Edmund White dies at 85
Groundbreaking gay author Edmund White dies at 85

Western Telegraph

time2 days ago

  • Western Telegraph

Groundbreaking gay author Edmund White dies at 85

White's death was confirmed on Wednesday by his agent, Bill Clegg, who did not immediately provide additional details. Along with Larry Kramer, Armistead Maupin and others, White was among a generation of gay writers who in the 1970s became bards for a community no longer afraid to declare its existence. He was present at the Stonewall raids of 1969, when arrests at a club in Greenwich Village led to the birth of the modern gay movement, and for decades was a participant and observer through the tragedy of Aids, the advance of gay rights and culture and the backlash of recent years. A resident of New York and Paris for much of his adult life, he was a novelist, journalist, biographer, playwright, activist, teacher and memoirist. Author Edmund White at his home in New York in 2019 (Mary Altaffer/AP) A Boy's Own Story was a bestseller and classic coming-of-age novel that demonstrated gay literature's commercial appeal. He wrote a prizewinning biography of playwright Jean Genet and books on Marcel Proust and Arthur Rimbaud. He was a professor of creative writing at Princeton University, where colleagues included Toni Morrison and his close friend, Joyce Carol Oates. He was an encyclopaedic reader who absorbed literature worldwide while returning yearly to such favourites as Tolstoy's Anna Karenina and Henry Green's Nothing. 'Among gay writers of his generation, Edmund White has emerged as the most versatile man of letters,' cultural critic Morris Dickstein wrote in The New York Times in 1995. 'A cosmopolitan writer with a deep sense of tradition, he has bridged the gap between gay subcultures and a broader literary audience.' In early 1982, just as the public was learning about Aids, White was among the founders of Gay Men's Health Crisis, which advocated Aids prevention and education. The author himself would learn that he was HIV-positive in 1985, and would remember friends afraid to be kissed by him, even on the cheek, and parents who did not want him to touch their babies. White survived, but watched countless peers and loved ones die. Out of the seven gay men, including White, who formed the influential writing group the Violet Quill, four died of complications from Aids. As White wrote in his elegiac novel The Farewell Symphony, the story followed a shocking arc: 'Oppressed in the fifties, freed in the sixties, exalted in the seventies and wiped out in the eighties.' But in the 1990s he lived to see gay people granted the right to marry and serve in the military, to see gay-themed books taught in schools and to see gay writers so widely published that they no longer needed to write about gay lives. 'We're in this post-gay period where you can announce to everybody that you yourself are gay, and you can write books in which there are gay characters, but you don't need to write exclusively about that,' he said in a Salon interview in 2009. 'Your characters don't need to inhabit a ghetto any more than you do. A straight writer can write a gay novel and not worry about it, and a gay novelist can write about straight people.' In 2019, White received a National Book Award medal for lifetime achievement, an honour previously given to Morrison and Philip Roth among others. 'To go from the most maligned to a highly lauded writer in a half-century is astonishing,' White said during his acceptance speech. White was born in Cincinnati in 1940, but age at seven moved with his mother to the Chicago area after his parents divorced. His father was a civil engineer, his mother a psychologist 'given to rages or fits of weeping'. Trapped in 'the closed, snivelling, resentful world of childhood,' at times suicidal, White was at the same time a 'fierce little autodidact' who sought escape through the stories of others, whether Thomas Mann's Death In Venice or a biography of the dancer Vaslav Nijinsky. 'As a young teenager I looked desperately for things to read that might excite me or assure me I wasn't the only one, that might confirm my identity I was unhappily piecing together,' he wrote in the essay Out Of The Closet, On To The Bookshelf, published in 1991. Even as he secretly wrote a 'coming out' novel while a teenager, he insisted on seeing a therapist and begged to be sent to boarding school. Edmund White was one of the leading gay American authors (Mary Altaffer/AP) After graduating from the University of Michigan, where he majored in Chinese, he moved to New York in the early 1960s and worked for years as a writer for Time-Life Books and an editor for The Saturday Review. He would interview Tennessee Williams and Truman Capote among others, and, for some assignments, was joined by photographer Robert Mapplethorpe. Socially, he met William S Burroughs, Jasper Johns, Christopher Isherwood and John Ashbery. He remembered drinking espresso with an ambitious singer named Naomi Cohen, whom the world would soon know as 'Mama Cass' of the Mamas and Papas. He feuded with Kramer, Gore Vidal and Susan Sontag, an early supporter who withdrew a blurb for 'A Boy's Own Story' after he caricatured her in the novel Caracole. 'In all my years of therapy I never got to the bottom of my impulse toward treachery, especially toward people who'd helped me and befriended me,' he later wrote. Through much of the 1960s, he was writing novels that were rejected or never finished. Late at night, he would 'dress as a hippie, and head out for the bars'. A favourite stop was the Stonewall and he was in the neighbourhood on the night of June 28 1969, when police raided the Stonewall and 'all hell broke loose.' 'Up until that moment we had all thought homosexuality was a medical term,' wrote White, who soon joined the protests. 'Suddenly we saw that we could be a minority group — with rights, a culture, an agenda.' His works included Skinned Alive: Stories and the novel A Previous Life, in which he turns himself into a fictional character and imagines himself long forgotten after his death. In 2009, he published City Boy, a memoir of New York in the 1960s and 1970s in which he told of his friendships and rivalries and gave the real names of fictional characters from his earlier novels. 'From an early age I had the idea that writing was truth-telling,' he told The Guardian. 'It's on the record. Everybody can see it. Maybe it goes back to the sacred origins of literature – the holy book. 'There's nothing holy about it for me, but it should be serious and it should be totally transparent.'

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