Racial and ethnic differences in cancer survival are greatest for cancers that can be more easily detected and treated. including breast and prostate cancer, according to a study by researchers at Columbia University. These differences are small with cancers that are harder to detect and treat such as pancreatic and lung cancer.
The findings, published in the October 2009 issue of Cancer Epidemiology, Biomarkers, and Prevention, highlight the need to develop specific health policies and interventions to address social disparities.
Although prior studies have focused on factors that contribute to disparities in specific cancers, the Mailman School researchers’ goal in this study was to understand why racial/ethnic disparities emerge in some cancers but not others. The study used data from more than 580,000 cancer cases in the National Cancer Institute’s Surveillance, Epidemiology, and End Results (SEER) registries to compare racial/ethnic differences in survival across a spectrum of cancers, classified according to their five-year relative survival rates as a measure of how amenable each cancer is to medical interventions. The authors hypothesized that racial/ethnic disparities increase as medical interventions improve overall survival because individuals with more socioeconomic resources are in a better position to exploit medical advances to protect their health.
The results found that, as compared with whites, substantial survival disparities existed in more treatable cancers in African-Americans, American Indians/Alaska Natives, Hispanics, and several subgroups of the Asian/Pacific Islander population.
Lance Armstrong is the ultimate athlete, a cancer survivor, who dominated the most brutally intense event in sports. Armstrong won seven consecutive Tours from 1999-2005, He not only made history, erasing previous records, he revolutionized cycling.
By doing so, Lance Armstrong became one of the most controversial athletes in his sport. His athletic prowess was so unbelievable that it divided mere mortals into two camps: those he inspired against those who suspect that he must have been doping.
With Armstrong, it all comes down to belief. No one believes in Armstrong more strongly than Armstrong himself. Of everything, that was perhaps his most vital winning ingredient.
A modest, fatherless childhood and being written off as an athlete when cancer doctors gave him less than a 50/50 chance of living left Armstrong with a chip on his shoulder as large as his native Texas. “I’ll show ‘em” could be his motto. More than merely competitive, Armstrong thrives on confrontation. Deadly illness, dizzying mountain climbs, accusations of doping, perceived slights from other riders — all these and more he burned as fuel to power his intense drive.
His first post-op words to the surgeon who removed tumors from his brain, according to the cyclist, were “I can kick your ass on a bike any day.”
At the Tour, the most ferocious demonstration of his implacable will came in the mist-cooled Pyrenees in 2003, when his winning streak brushed within a whisker of a premature end. Accelerating uphill away from his rivals, Armstrong shaved too close to the roadside crowds and snagged his handlebar on a spectator’s bag, slamming him to the ground.
Riders with less steel and less luck — Armstrong was fortunate not to break a bone — might have thrown up their hands in despair. Not him. His eyes burning charcoal black with fury, Armstrong jumped back on his bike and powered past everyone, rescuing what until then had been a sub-par race for him. Of the Tours he won, that was the only one where he showed hints of vulnerability.
“Everyone has a bad day, an off day but Lance is that well trained that it never happens to him. Hats off,” says 13-time Tour veteran Stuart O’Grady. “For seven years, to never fall sick, to never have (a serious) accident. The level of professionalism that he’s shown has made cycling that much bigger. Armstrong is a superstar, a celebrity in all aspects of life.”
Passing years, wealth, fame, fatherhood and traveling the world smoothed some of Armstrong’s abrasiveness. As much as he showed a mean streak on the bike, he has shown compassion off it, throwing himself into campaigning against cancer with the same zeal he once reserved for cycling. But even as he developed a taste for modern art, populated gossip pages and rubbed shoulders with presidents and pop stars, the need to prove himself still smoldered under his tailored suits.
After his last win in 2005, Armstrong announced that he was “100 percent retired” and that “it would take an absolute miracle to bring me back.” In fact, it took less than that in 2008 — just a belief that his successors weren’t worthy and that he could still be a contender, and anger that doping accusations had followed him into retirement.
“I’m doing this for my kids,” he told biographer John Wilcockson, explaining his comeback. “I don’t want them growing up and reading all these things about me and doping.”
Yet nothing Armstrong does will silence the suspicions. They appear destined for perpetual limbo, with Armstrong unable to prove he was clean — short of spending 24/7, 365 days a year under constant surveillance, who could? — and his accusers unable so far to produce incontrovertible evidence he was dirty.
It’s an unsatisfactory situation that bothers even some of those who know, like and respect him. Prince Albert II of Monaco, a member of the International Olympic Committee, says Armstrong wouldn’t be his athlete of the decade because of the doubts.
“Obviously you can also argue, ‘OK, maybe he took something a few years ago and then now how could he be on something after winning the battle against cancer? How could he afford simply health-wise to be on any kind of drugs?’ But he still had results after that, incredible ones,” the prince told the AP. “It is a very tricky one.”
What is certain is that five of the eight riders who shared the Tour podium with Armstrong in his winning years served doping bans at some point in their careers. Another two were allegedly tied to doping rings. Armstrong was the leader among a sullied bunch.
Armstrong’s laserlike focus on the Tour, building his year and team toward that sole goal, had no equal. His attention to detail and use of new technology raised standards in cycling. In spring training, on empty, rain-soaked roads and snow-blocked mountain passes, Armstrong methodically reconnoitered the route, planning where he would strike during the three Tour weeks in July. Traditionalists in France huffed at Armstrong’s “American” ways, bridling that he steamrollered over their beloved race without the off-the-cuff panache of a rider like Eddy “The Cannibal” Merckx, whom Armstrong calls the greatest cyclist ever.
But, in doing so, the French also paid Armstrong a strange backhanded compliment, because only those at very top draw such emotion in this nation of revolution.
“The French public doesn’t like people who win,” says Jean-Francois Pescheux, who as competition director for the Tour designs the route. “The first year, they’re happy. The second year, less so and at the third, they have had enough.”
Sandy Hutchens, Nov. 25, Toronto – Haydain Neale frontman for the group Juno Award-winning group Jacksoul was called as an “joyful presence” and an “amazing individual”. Astonished friends learned about his death from cancer on Monday. Neale died Sunday at Mount Sinai Hospital in Toronto at 39 years old, after a seven-month struggle with lung cancer, the family said in a press release Monday.
Neale had also been recuperating from injuries sustained after being hit by an automobile while driving his Vespa scooter in Toronto on Aug. 3, 2007.
His friends and musicians were totally shocked by the news, particularly since many of them thought that he was finished with the worst part of his illness and was in a recovery phase.
“That guy just exuded what it is to be a really cool, down to earth, just amazing individual,” Toronto hip-hop MC Kardinal Offishall told CP backstage at the SOCAN awards on Monday. “Wow. Canada really lost something special.”
Family members and some of his friends were at his side as he died.
“Through all these challenges, Haydain’s sense of humour and love of music were ever-present,” his wife Michaela said.
He consistently brightened the room with his singing and his dazzling smile. His playful presence and rich voice will be missed by us all. Jacksoul was to release “SOULmate,” on Dec. 1 with 10 new tracks.
The first single, “Lonesome Highway,” was co-produced and co-written by Neale, and touches on his recovery, supported by his wife, daughter Yasmin and numerous others. Former Treble Charger frontman Greg Nori considered Neale a close friend since the two men worked side by side in studio space at the Sony offices.
“This guy was an extremely, extremely generous person,” Nori said backstage at the SOCAN event. “(He) was always 120 per cent to me, as an individual, he really was. I always had a really great friendship with him and we had a great respect for each other.
“I never saw the guy get mad. He only had positive energy about him. That’s my recollection of him. Never, ever did I see any kind of jealousy out of him, or negativity.”
Kardinal Offishall, likewise, said Neale was a special human being.
“People who never had the chance to meet him were able to see that not just through his music, but just in how he carried himself, just the type of dude that he was,” said the rapper, who says he had checked in on Neale’s status by sending a text message to a mutual friend just days before his death.
Jacksoul’s previous hits include “Can’t Stop” and “Still Believe in Love.” Neale was known for his soulful, elastic croon, for a voice that was faithfully smooth but organic and expressive.
“Hopefully his music will live on,” said Hedley guitarist Dave Rosin. That’s all any artist can hope. … It’s a sad thing.”
Nori, meanwhile, praised Neale’s integrity, versatility and commitment to his artistic ideals.
“I think he was always tackling something that wasn’t the flavour of the moment,” Nori said. “I think it was always a struggle to him because it wasn’t flavour of the moment, and it didn’t sell as much.
“He always had the ability to go do that if he wanted to, but he stuck to his guns and stayed with what he knew was in his heart, and I commend him for that.”
An interment with a private family gathering will take place later this week.