Latest news with #NationalBowelCancerScreeningProgram
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Health
- Yahoo
Bowel cancer rates are declining in people over 50. But why are they going up in younger adults?
Bowel cancer is the fourth most common cancer in Australia, with more than 15,000 cases diagnosed annually. It's also the second most common cause of cancer-related death. Recently, headlines have warned of an uptick in cases among younger adults, noting bowel cancer cases in people under 50 in Australia are among the highest in the world. While this is very worrying, it's also important to note the rate of new cases of bowel cancer in Australia overall has actually been falling over the past 20 years or so. Most cases of bowel cancer still occur in adults over 50, and thanks to a national screening program in this age group, rates are declining. So why are rates increasing in younger people, and what can we do to mitigate the risk? Australia was one of the first countries to commence population-based screening for bowel cancer. The National Bowel Cancer Screening Program was introduced in 2006. A kit is sent in the mail every two years to adults aged 50–74. This simple poo test detects microscopic amounts of blood that may indicate the presence of cancer or a precancerous lesion, leading to earlier detection and higher rates of survival. Despite the effectiveness of the program, participation rates are less than optimal at around 40%. We could see even further declines in rates of bowel cancer if more people took part. In contrast to the falling incidence of bowel cancer in older people, emerging data over the past few years paints a different picture for people under 50. Research I did with colleagues showed an increase in both bowel and rectal cancer from 1982 to 2014 in Australia in people under 50. A recent preprint (a study yet to be peer-reviewed) includes data up to 2020, and further supports this trend. It suggests people born in the 1990s have two to three times the risk of bowel cancer compared to those born in the 1950s. Similar trends have been noted in many countries, however international data suggests the rates of young-onset bowel cancer in Australia are among the highest in the world. At the moment the causes are unclear. Some studies have focused on diet and lifestyle, obesity, and consumption of red meat. However, diet as a cause of any disease is notoriously difficult to study. This is because it requires long-term data on what people eat, and following them up for the development of the disease (called an observational study). If there are positive findings in the observational study, researchers may then test their hypothesis in a randomised controlled trial where one group eats a certain food (such as red meat) and the other does not, and then compare rates of bowel cancer in each group over time. Due to the near impossibility of conducting these types of trials – as participants would need to follow strict dietary guidelines for years – dietary causes are challenging to prove. More recent research has focussed on the potential role of E. coli infection in childhood, proposing that infection with some strains may lead to early DNA changes and subsequent increased cancer risk. Other research is looking at the role of an altered gut microbiome. These hypotheses warrant further work. It's important to watch for any new or concerning symptoms. Any blood in your poo, particularly if it's a new symptom, or a change in your regular bowel habits, are good reasons to promptly book a doctor's appointment. And while the bowel cancer screening kits are sent to adults from age 50 every two years, as of 2024 people aged 45–49 can request a kit to be sent to them. Because the participation rate in the bowel cancer screening program is less than optimal, people over 50 who receive the kit in the mail are strongly encouraged to do the test as soon as possible. Increasing screening participation rates remains one of the most important ways we can reduce the burden of bowel cancer in Australia. This article is republished from The Conversation. It was written by: Suzanne Mahady, Monash University Read more: Three ways to make dental care kinder for anxious patients Gluten intolerance and coeliac disease can both cause nausea, bloating and pain. What's the difference? People with severe mental illness are waiting for days in hospital EDs. Here's how we can do better Suzanne Mahady does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Sydney Morning Herald
25-04-2025
- Politics
- Sydney Morning Herald
Ten policies that would make me the perfect prime minister
There are so many policies from all sides, and yet nothing that makes the average person sit up and pay attention. So, vote for me! Here are the 10 changes I'll make on day one. Ban all leaf blowers. There'll be a buyback system, similar to the gun amnesty. 'Too expensive,' I hear you say. 'Not at all,' I reply. When the day comes – when we will melt down all the leaf-blowers in one giant, joyous conflagration – we'll make back all the money by selling tickets to a grateful public. Ban any additional TV streaming services. Yet another one has just arrived – Max – and, according to members of my family, we'll have to subscribe because it offers shows to which they are already addicted. Yes, I say, that's fine, so long as we unsubscribe to one of the others. No. Impossible. We have to keep this one for the grandchildren, and this one for Jocasta, and this other one so I can watch Clarkson's Farm (for no better reason than the sound of me chuckling over Jeremy Clarkson so annoys Jocasta). Don't destroy families! Let the government step in. Mark down Max as the maximum. No further streamers allowed. Ban shrinkflation. They reduce the size of the product, hoping no one will notice, and suddenly, your recipe is a dud because there's less tuna in the can. There are also not enough Tim Tams to sustain a drive to Melbourne. I say: ban this evil! Or at least force supermarkets to add a sign: 'Beware: there are now only nine biscuits in this pack. You'll only get to Albury.' Mandate the 'generous pour' in pubs and restaurants. I know what you're thinking: I'm just trying to win the alcoholic vote, but fair is fair. Beer drinkers can order a jug, while spirit lovers can ask for a double, but the poor wine drinker is often left with the choice of ordering a whole bottle (unseemly) or leaving the bar with a puddle of chardonnay glumly staring up from the bottom of an enormous glass. Some establishments offer a choice of 'standard' or 'large'. I say: why not all? Say 'cheers' if you agree. Bring in DNA testing for chewing gum miscreants. Here's the worst feeling: you place your hand under the chair or table, and there it is: the wad of chewing gum, shoved there by some thoughtless oaf. OK, my policy might be a bit Clive Palmer/Pauline Hanson, but let's test that gum. Years later, when that teenager is 60 and sends his sample to the National Bowel Cancer Screening Program, we'll have him bang to rights. Oh, the feeling. Ban the social kiss. Women hate it, but men do too. COVID let us off the hook for a while, but now the social kiss is back. Peril, once more, lurks at every social occasion. How well do I know her? Or, we work together but are also friends, so what are the rules? And what if I go for the left cheek, and then she shifts position, and we end up ... Oh, it's all too awful. Ban it. Ban it good. No advertising when you are on hold. OK, I understand that Westpac, Qantas, or the NRMA may not be able to take my call instantly. I'm willing to wait. I'm happy to read the paper while I wait. But I can't read the paper because the music is constantly interrupted by a voice, which I, in my sweet hopefulness, take to be an actual person, ready to help me, only to realise, time and time again, it's another advertisement, destroying my concentration. Here's my policy: no voices until it's a real one.
The Age
25-04-2025
- Politics
- The Age
Ten policies that would make me the perfect prime minister
There are so many policies from all sides, and yet nothing that makes the average person sit up and pay attention. So, vote for me! Here are the 10 changes I'll make on day one. Ban all leaf blowers. There'll be a buyback system, similar to the gun amnesty. 'Too expensive,' I hear you say. 'Not at all,' I reply. When the day comes – when we will melt down all the leaf-blowers in one giant, joyous conflagration – we'll make back all the money by selling tickets to a grateful public. Ban any additional TV streaming services. Yet another one has just arrived – Max – and, according to members of my family, we'll have to subscribe because it offers shows to which they are already addicted. Yes, I say, that's fine, so long as we unsubscribe to one of the others. No. Impossible. We have to keep this one for the grandchildren, and this one for Jocasta, and this other one so I can watch Clarkson's Farm (for no better reason than the sound of me chuckling over Jeremy Clarkson so annoys Jocasta). Don't destroy families! Let the government step in. Mark down Max as the maximum. No further streamers allowed. Ban shrinkflation. They reduce the size of the product, hoping no one will notice, and suddenly, your recipe is a dud because there's less tuna in the can. There are also not enough Tim Tams to sustain a drive to Melbourne. I say: ban this evil! Or at least force supermarkets to add a sign: 'Beware: there are now only nine biscuits in this pack. You'll only get to Albury.' Mandate the 'generous pour' in pubs and restaurants. I know what you're thinking: I'm just trying to win the alcoholic vote, but fair is fair. Beer drinkers can order a jug, while spirit lovers can ask for a double, but the poor wine drinker is often left with the choice of ordering a whole bottle (unseemly) or leaving the bar with a puddle of chardonnay glumly staring up from the bottom of an enormous glass. Some establishments offer a choice of 'standard' or 'large'. I say: why not all? Say 'cheers' if you agree. Bring in DNA testing for chewing gum miscreants. Here's the worst feeling: you place your hand under the chair or table, and there it is: the wad of chewing gum, shoved there by some thoughtless oaf. OK, my policy might be a bit Clive Palmer/Pauline Hanson, but let's test that gum. Years later, when that teenager is 60 and sends his sample to the National Bowel Cancer Screening Program, we'll have him bang to rights. Oh, the feeling. Ban the social kiss. Women hate it, but men do too. COVID let us off the hook for a while, but now the social kiss is back. Peril, once more, lurks at every social occasion. How well do I know her? Or, we work together but are also friends, so what are the rules? And what if I go for the left cheek, and then she shifts position, and we end up ... Oh, it's all too awful. Ban it. Ban it good. No advertising when you are on hold. OK, I understand that Westpac, Qantas, or the NRMA may not be able to take my call instantly. I'm willing to wait. I'm happy to read the paper while I wait. But I can't read the paper because the music is constantly interrupted by a voice, which I, in my sweet hopefulness, take to be an actual person, ready to help me, only to realise, time and time again, it's another advertisement, destroying my concentration. Here's my policy: no voices until it's a real one.
