a world without cancer? Yeah, gonna talk about this today, sorry to bring the room down and all.
Don't get me wrong, I'm in a great mood today. I'm pumped to see Lady GaGa tonight in Boston! Laurie picked up the tickets last night and the seats are actually really good - 2nd row balcony! So I think we'll be able to see & hear the show perfectly. The Wang (heh heh) Theater is an ornate opera house with big chandeliers and oppulant decor, and we're both thrilled to see her at a smaller venue before she does her next tour which will likely be a big stadium event. I'm very excited to get glammed up and see a great show! As always, I'll be armed with my trusty Nikon and will have my review for your entertainment sometime tomorrow... or Thursday, if I'm too hungover tomorrow.
But anyway, back to my original subject. This morning on Good Morning America I saw a segment about a doctor whose wife died of breast cancer 7 years ago, so he made it his personal goal to find a cure for cancer. He has made a research break-through that so far has been killing the disease in mice, and they're hopeful that it will translate to human anatomy as well. You can watch the clip here.
So far this experimental treatment has been successful in curing 86% of small cell lung cancers in mice. That's the kind of cancer my father had and it's basically considered a death sentence in humans; most people who receive that diagnosis are dead within a year. This doctor discovered a hormone made by our own hearts that may be able to kill cancer cells -- wouldn't it be amazing if it turned out that the cure to one of the most devastating diseases known to man lay in our very own bodies?
I know that there's a vast amount of research to be done before they can even green-light human trials, but I can't help but feel a little spark of optimism in my heart of hearts. I've lost loved ones to cancer. I've heard terrible words come out of a doctor's lips, felt myself turn cold as the blood drained from my face, felt like I was floating above my body as I tried to take it all in. I've attended the funeral of a friend younger than myself who died from brain cancer. I worry every day about having a doctor give me horrible news about myself or someone I care about again. Just having hope for a cure means something to me.
So, today is a good day. Every day is a good day when you're healthy and have hope for a healthy future. Going out with a great friend to see a beautiful freak in concert is just the icing on a delicious cake.
Enjoy your day, everyone!