Latest news with #tumour
The Sun
a day ago
- Health
- The Sun
I thought my snoring was caused by a blocked nose – it was actually a sign of a skull-eroding disease
WHEN Claire Barbery first started snoring, she didn't think much of i t. But the blocked nose the 51-year-old from Newquay, Cornwall, had been battling turned out to be something serious - a tumour eating away at the base of her skull. 4 The mum-of-two nearly cancelled the hospital appointment that led to her diagnosis because she didn't want to 'waste the time' of the NHS. 'There's nothing wrong, I thought. But looking back, that decision could have cost me my life," she added. 'I started snoring, which I'd never done before. I was waking myself up, breathing through my mouth rather than my nose. 'Even then, I nearly cancelled my hospital appointment. I didn't want to waste anyone's time. I just left it and thought it was something to do with having had Covid the month before.' Claire had been experiencing a continuous blockage in one side of her nose and initially put it down to the effects of regular Covid testing while working in a care home. After a steroid spray failed to help, she sought medical advice in January 2023. Following scans and a biopsy, doctors delivered the news she had olfactory neuroblastoma - a rare cancer developing in the upper part of the nasal cavity. The 5cm tumour had already begun eroding bone at the base of her skull. She underwent complex surgery at Birmingham's Queen Elizabeth Hospital to have it removed. Claire has now partnered with UK charity - the Get A-Head Charitable Trust to raise awareness of World Head and Neck Cancer Day today, which was yesterday (27 July). The most common symptoms of pancreatic cancer - as patients share their stories She added: 'If you know your body, then you've got to push. 'If there's something wrong, don't ignore it.' The procedure in January last year was performed by consultant surgeon Shahz Ahmed, who specialises in skull base procedures. It was filmed as part of the Channel 5 documentary 'Surgeons: A Matter of Life or Death'. Mr Ahmed said: 'Claire had a very rare form of cancer that needed to be removed. 'Untreated, it could have metastasized and spread into the neck and the rest of the body. 4 4 'It had already gone through the skull base into the base of the brain and if left, it would have become harder and harder to treat.' The delicate operation involved removing the tumour, along with Claire's olfactory bulbs - meaning she has permanently lost her sense of smell - and reconstructing the area between her nose and brain. Mr Ahmed added: 'The key worries were operating between the left and the right eye. 'The main blood supply to the brain is in very close proximity so the risk of seizures, stroke, injury to the brain and loss of life, were all very real. 'Thankfully, the surgery was a huge success and Claire suffered no complications.' Following surgery, Claire underwent six weeks of chemotherapy and radiotherapy and is now under regular review with her medical team. She is gradually returning to work and since treatment finished has been enjoying holidays with her husband Gary as well as spending more time with daughters Lowenna, 27, and Keizha, 25.
Yahoo
22-06-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
Altum Sequencing develops tool to monitor solid tumour treatment response
Cancer cell monitoring startup Altum Sequencing has developed a tool that uses a simple blood sample for monitoring treatment response in individuals with solid tumours. The company is based in the C3N-IA Science Park at Universidad Carlos III de Madrid (UC3M), Spain. According to the university, the study detailed the tool's effectiveness, highlighting that although many individuals with hormone receptor+ (HR+) breast cancer respond well initially, there is a relapse rate of up to 40%. By utilising the developed technology and examining circulating tumour DNA, researchers have succeeded in predicting the occurrence of clinical relapses as much as 68 months earlier than what conventional methods could reveal. The process for the early detection of relapses starts with obtaining an initial tumour biopsy. From this sample, patient-specific mutations are determined. Subsequently, blood tests are analysed for the presence of these specific mutations in the circulating tumour DNA. This approach is not limited to breast cancer; it is applicable to any solid tumour type, and researchers are seeking regulatory approvals in the US and Europe to make it globally accessible. Altum Sequencing president Joaquín Martínez-López said: 'Our goal is not to diagnose cancer, but to provide physicians with an effective tool to monitor the evolution of the disease after treatment. 'Current diagnostic tools have sensitivity limitations, which makes early detection of these relapses difficult, but thanks to NGS (next generation sequencing) DNA sequencing technology, we can detect one tumour cell among a million healthy cells from a simple blood sample.' The startup is also exploring the integration of generative AI. It has already incorporated machine learning algorithms and now aims to utilise this new technology to further enhance its diagnostic processes. The company has received backing from the Community of Madrid, the Centre for Technological Development and Innovation, and the European Regional Development Fund. It is also partnering with hospitals and research centres, including the Gregorio Marañón Hospital and Universidad Complutense. "Altum Sequencing develops tool to monitor solid tumour treatment response" was originally created and published by Medical Device Network, a GlobalData owned brand. The information on this site has been included in good faith for general informational purposes only. It is not intended to amount to advice on which you should rely, and we give no representation, warranty or guarantee, whether express or implied as to its accuracy or completeness. You must obtain professional or specialist advice before taking, or refraining from, any action on the basis of the content on our site.
News.com.au
13-06-2025
- Health
- News.com.au
ABC radio host James Valentine has shared second shock cancer diagnosis
Beloved ABC radio host James Valentine has revealed a second cancer diagnosis months after having a tumour removed. Valentine announced he had oesophageal cancer, and was going off the air to have surgery in March last year. He returned to work in September, while he was being monitored by doctors for future outbreaks. On Friday, he revealed the wretched news to his audience that another tumour had been discovered. 'My current scans and a biopsy have confirmed that I have tumours in my omentum. Yes, omentum, I'd never heard of it either,' he said. 'It's described usually as a fatty veil, which extends from the stomach over your intestine. Quite what it does, not sure; partly packaging, partly helping to protect the intestine, possibly some role in dealing with infection. 'Whatever it's meant to do it is currently largely squeezing my bowel and causing constriction and constipation and general discomfort in that part of the world. 'Oh, it's been a fun few weeks, my friends. I am now way too familiar with the 'digestive' aisle of my local chemist.' Valentine begins immunotherapy and chemotherapy next week and will take three months off from radio and saxophone duties while he heals and recovers from the treatment. 'Immunotherapy is the great hope of everyone these days. I'm eligible, as in it's considered that it's very likely to be effective in my case,' he said. 'Side effects of the treatment range from mildly irritating to horrendous, so I think I'll just deal with them. Best I focus on this one thing, and give the medicine and the process its best chance.' Doctors told him before he underwent surgery there was a likelihood the cancer would return. He said he was focused firmly on the present and what needed be done through the course of the treatment to 'fix this.' 'That's me for the next few months. Treatment, deal with the treatment, rest, build strength for next treatment. In between, be with the people I love,' he said. 'I'm already missing you, I'm already wanting to get back on air. 'I don't pray, but if you do, please go hard. I can feel your good wishes, love and support and I thank you deeply for it. 'When I know anything about what's happening, I'll let you know but right now I'm off to the land of the sick. When I get back, you'll hear from me.'
Independent Singapore
03-06-2025
- Business
- Independent Singapore
Cheaper brain cancer test provides more accurate results in just 2 hours
UK: A cheaper and faster brain cancer test developed by UK researchers can now identify the type of brain tumour in just two hours, offering more accurate results than current methods, PA Media reported. Patients typically wait six to eight weeks to determine the type of brain tumour they have, as samples are sent to central laboratories for genetic analysis. Experts said this long wait can be 'traumatic' and delay treatment like chemotherapy or radiotherapy. With the new test, diagnostic results can be ready in under two hours after surgery, with detailed tumour classifications available within minutes of sequencing. Researchers from the University of Nottingham and Nottingham University Hospitals NHS Trust (NUH) have developed a new method called ROBIN, short for rapid nanopore brain intraoperative classification, which assesses the deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA) from a tumour sample. The test was applied to 50 patients and was in concordance with the standard of care in 90% of cases, according to findings published in Neuro-Oncology . Dr. Matt Loose, a professor of developmental and computational biology at the University of Nottingham, developed a method to sequence specific parts of human DNA using portable sequencing devices from Oxford Nanopore Technologies, which offers real-time analysis. Now, the team has used it to test brain tumour samples genetically. NUH neurosurgeon Dr Stuart Smith said, 'Patients find waiting many weeks for results extremely difficult and this adds to the anxiety and worry at what is already a very difficult time.' Meanwhile, NUH consultant neuropathologist Dr Simon Paine said that the method will be a 'game changer,' pointing to the speed at which results will be available and the degree of accuracy of the diagnosis. Dr. Simon Newman, Chief Scientific Officer of The Brain Tumour Charity, added that the new method will be 'transformative for all patients' as it ensures rapid access to an optimal standard of care and, crucially, removes the uncertainty patients face in waiting weeks for their diagnosis and prognosis. /TISG Read also: New white paper warns of the cost of inaction on youth mental health across APAC
CNA
23-05-2025
- Entertainment
- CNA
Dementia has taken my mum away, but how can I grieve her when she's still here?
Early in my career, I became a comedy writer. This wasn't surprising – I'd been raised in an environment of inappropriate wit, toilet humour, and general linguistic tomfoolery, after all. An environment that can be attributed to one person: My mother. Before her forced retirement, Cikgu Alus was a very chill primary school teacher. She was particularly fond of wordplay and nonsensical rhyming, and was especially known for her hilarious roll call in the classroom. Riotous laughter would erupt at the start of each day as she called out her students' names, each one adapted for laughs. Abu Bakar was dubbed "Abu Terbakar" ("Abu's on fire"), to the raucous delight of the kids – and she'd keep going down the list. She was far from politically correct. Everywhere she went, she was the life of the party. Even her parenting was rooted in slapstick comedy. Growing up, no matter how sad I was, she could always lift me out of my funk with her go-to trick: Slow, deliberate, upward strokes to my inordinately large forehead which would then abruptly end with a full-palmed slap so sudden, I'd forget why I was down and instantly burst out laughing. THE PARTY GOES QUIET She kept up her spirited, cartoonish ways until I was in university. I distinctly remember the day I got the call that her incessant migraines – ones that had plagued her for years – had finally been diagnosed as a benign tumour growing in her brain. In 1997, following a complicated but successful operation to remove the tumour, she started down the path of healing – one that eventually became her descent into a void, one that none of us could pull her out of. The first five years of recovery were hard, but hopeful. Day by day, she started becoming more and more like herself. Eventually, we figured we might even get her back to her joking self in time. However, things took a rough turn about 10 years ago, when my mum was in her 60s. What started as bouts of forgetfulness turned into bouts of blankness. By the time we got her diagnosed with dementia, she was already in an advanced stage. Even then, none of us knew what lay ahead: A traumatising sequence of watching a beloved parent disappear while still being physically present. IS SHE STILL THERE? Of all the known cruel ailments that affect us, dementia is among the cruellest. This isn't because it's 'more painful' or 'more severe' than other illnesses. The cruel nature of dementia is in its ability to cause pain and suffering not just for patients, but everyone around them as well. For my mother, the first to be forgotten were the spouses of her children, then her grandchildren. After some years, she reached a point where, only one or two family members are even somewhat recallable to her. As painful as this has been for myself and my siblings, the hardest hit in all of this has been my father. As her main caregiver for the past 28 years, he has had to spend every single day witnessing the love of his life slowly fade away through a relentless series of hospital visits, medications and treatments. Up to a few months ago, the one person she would always look to and smile at was my father. And me, to an extent – probably because I resemble him. Then tragedy struck. My mum, who can barely take a few steps without falling, has had numerous falls. This is despite us taking every precaution to ensure her safety: Her bed is barricaded, she is wheelchaired everywhere, and she is never left unaccompanied or unsupervised. But even as dementia robs my mother of her memory and motor functions, it cannot take away her stubbornness. She will always try to get up on her own. There is simply no reasoning with her. Even if left alone for a minute, she will almost certainly attempt to walk. A couple of months ago, she did it again. This time, she fell on her face with such force that she sustained a fractured orbital bone, internal bleeding in her skull, and even managed to tear a ligament in her knee. Multiple hospital visits later, I think this last incident has really taken its toll. SHE DOES NOT KNOW ME ANYMORE I've always been able to get her to laugh. Even in the later stages of her dementia, I could still elicit a smile – from a simple inappropriate rhyme to a quick tickle when I kissed her. There was always a spark in her eyes when I did this – a light of recognition, a connection that her son was there. But with her last fall, I think I've lost her. My father, fatigued from years of caregiving, seems to be back on track now – carrying on with care since the last incident. His advantage lies in the fact that he is with her all day, every day. Not being able to share this advantage, I find myself losing ground faster than I can come to grips with. This is something that cuts deep into my very being. On my last visit, I walked in and greeted my mother as usual – with a big smile and hug. She looked at me, and my heart started sinking when I realised that she was trying to place who I was. I immediately tried the usual humour to connect – the humour that she'd passed on to me, taught me since childhood – but she didn't react. She smiled politely, the way one does when meeting strangers for the first time. That spark, that light of recognition, had finally fizzled out. At this very moment, I am unable to grieve, because my mother is still here. But the spirited, hilarious, politically incorrect woman – the one who raised me, fed me, loved me into becoming the person I am today – she's already gone. The woman who would comfort me with soothing strokes of her hand and cheer me up with cheeky slaps to the forehead will never return to me again. How can I mourn her loss while she still lives and breathes? It's a strange but acute sort of pain, not just for myself but my siblings. All we can do is focus on maintaining caregiving support to our father, as we do our best to keep this new version of my mother – now an elderly stranger – comfortable in her twilight years.
