Outside my Area of Expertise (20170325)
Just when you think you have a solid grasp on reality . . . The handle falls off.
One of the best things about being a scientist: Other scientists expect you to be like them. This means you can often be among the first to learn about new research outside your area of expertise. For some this could result in "getting in over your head" and feeling vulnerable. I have spent my entire life, lost in a fog, not knowing what's happening, and intend to continue along that same trajectory to the very end. I like to think of it as learning by immersion, it's less scary that way.
In the 1970s I learned about a cancer treatment régime known as pion therapy and in the process I learned some details about the biology of cancer. Later in the 1990s I heard about a treatment being developed that involved anti-angiogenic drugs. Starved of oxygen tumors should shrivel up and die. Depriving tumors the oxygen needed for metabolism seemed like such a good approach.
Recently (4 March 2017) Science News published an article, Deflating Cancer : New approaches to low oxygen may thwart tumors, By Laura Bell.
Coming from an engineering (rather than a biological) background Rakesh Jain, director of the Edwin L. Steele Laboratories for Tumor Biology at Harvard Medical School, had a different point of view. He is quoted as saying, "I was sticking my neck out and saying this is not a good thing to do." and notes, "I had tremendous resistance." as "he argued, starving tumors might make them harder to treat." "Time has proved him right." Laura Bell commented in her four page article describing how Jain's insight is leading to new approaches for treating some cancers.
Cancer is a terrifying word even under the best of circumstances. So, when I found myself (a several months ago) having a sit down with an Oncologist and his student shadow, I slipped into professor mode. I explained some aspects of tumors and how they develop from my rather non-oncologist point of view. The Oncologist was quite happy to confirm everything I said by translating for the student. I am too old, and will never be in a position like Dr. Jain, but it is good to know science is still interdisciplinary and, unlike so much of late, we at least in the sciences can still communicate.
If you have never read Science News Magazine, I can recommend it without reservation.
Comments
Read an article on miracle cures
involving purposefully infecting patients with Dengue fever that put the immune system on high alert, which somehow allows the body to finally "see" the tumor. "Miraculously" shrinking the tumor into complete remission.
/www.oddee.com/item 99276.aspx
http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20150306-the-mystery-of-vanishing-cancer
Neither Russia nor China is our enemy.
Neither Iran nor Venezuela are threatening America.
Cuba is a dead horse, stop beating it.
The article describes a case study
of a woman cured with a common vaccine.
Neither Russia nor China is our enemy.
Neither Iran nor Venezuela are threatening America.
Cuba is a dead horse, stop beating it.
One cure is anecdotal
and should never have been seen by public looking for cures. I am also a scientist (or was, but it never leaves the bloodstream). Those one-patient cures are often press releases that fail to mention the 99 patients it did not help.
Now that microsequencing can be done,a cancer tumor may evolve with time and location, and the mutations pile up. Chemotherapy puts selective pressure on the tumor(s) and then one finds how fast evolution can occur. Not a fun battle for the tumor-bearer.
Lucky so far here. I just break bones. Sigh.
Hey! my dear friends or soon-to-be's, JtC could use the donations to keep this site functioning for those of us who can still see the life preserver or flotsam in the water.
I'm assuming the operation was a success?
Hope so.
The article did address all the failures in an honest way. But definitely showed the need for more research down a completely new avenue.
I'm reminded of Elizabeth Kolbert book "The Sixth Extinction where she discribes how difficult it was for early scientists (c. 1800s ) who resisted what they were seeing right before their very eyes. Such as, being presented with very large bones, they always put them into a category that was restricted by what creatures were roaming the earth AT THAT TIME. They were either elephant or whale bones they proclaimed. They had no idea they were looking at dinosaur bones and had no concept of extinction.
It was thought at that time all the animals and plantlife on earth were always there since the beginning of time.
How does this relate to the article in question? There is alot we still don't know and sometimes we have to stand back and look outside the box.
Get well soon.
Neither Russia nor China is our enemy.
Neither Iran nor Venezuela are threatening America.
Cuba is a dead horse, stop beating it.
I couldn't agree more.
It seems to me - please offer your opinion - that in this era of specialization, the missing factor is the generalist, whose role is to integrate disciplines?
I don't mean that a specific discipline be developed of "Generalism" but that the generalist in every scientist should (and could) be more generally encouraged in academia.
Just a humble question from a non-scientist. I'm genuinely interested in the responses of any scientists to this.
Playing the fool.
Both as a teaching tool as well as a humanizing ploy I often (35 year tenure) allowed students to "catch me in an error". Actually, sometimes it was because I would fail to review my notes and even sometimes I just started riffing on a subject. I do not have anything close to an eidetic memory, and really like to have students engaged in the process. It was helpful (even therapeutic) for them to understand that even a specialist is capable of making mistakes. There was a time I was terrified of public speaking, but I figured out that I was never going to achieve perfection. Life became so much more fun at that point.
All my teachers / professors (including my father) were generalists, it just seemed to be the right way to do the process. They all participated in discussions and debate outside their areas of expertise. The norm was: You never know from whom the next good idea will come.
Specialization has become too specialized as of the resent past. Sad to say this is intimately tied to, if not driven by, our economic environment and predilections. The push to robotize us for the sake of efficiency and production value is not only dehumanizing it is debilitating. As this becomes the norm in education, we will continue to spiral into the abyss.
My 6th grade science teacher
reminded me of my dad (a music teacher) probably just because I missed my Dad after the divorce. But this science teacher said something that has stuck with me all this time: he said water is the only substance on this planet that expands upon freezing. Imagine how the world might be different if that was not true about water. Is that true?
The thought has bedeviled me a long time. If true, it would seem a good starting point for some bright young potential scientist to begin some exploration. For me, it's a reminder - a bit of the road not taken.
Aren't anomalies are always intriguing?
So true, and so very intriguing.
This is one of the most interesting "what if" thought "experiments" I have ever encountered. I like it because it is easy to visualize the process but not so easy to discern all its ramifications. I have used it from time to time to motivate students that question the value of understanding Reality from a scientific perspective. It is a great ice-breaker providing a fun way to approach a serious question that spans many disciplines.
There are other substances that expand as they solidify. Among them, gallium is easy to obtain and I intend to use my samples to see if I can develop a set of challenges for the ScienceWorks Hands-On Museum. All I have ever done both as a student as well as a teacher is to play "what-if", it has been so much fun I am continuing this pattern of behavior into retirement. I think it's called the Peter Pan Syndrome.
Hey. It might not be a very scientific thought...
But, the best of luck to you.
Your essay also made me smile in recognition a bit:
There is a familiarity in not knowing what the fuck is going on that I'm OK with.
It helps me get out of bed every morning.
Maybe today will be a good day of discovering.
Looking forward to the results of yesterday's experiments.
Shit. I hope it works out.
All the best.
Cultivate a child like innocents for best results.
Spending 60 years in the classroom has given me an advantage over most people my age. I had to maintain mental agility or be sidelined by the "young turks" and / or each new group of students. It's a Darwinian thing and I survived, so, from a certain point of view, I won the lottery.
If on a given day I have not encountered a recognizably new thing or situation, I, at least, find a new perspective from which to examine an old thing or situation.
In an age where
results can only be replicated 30% of the time, or the outcome of a study is directly proportional to the desired results of those funding the study, all results should be taken with a rock of salt.
There is no such thing as TMI. It can always be held in reserve for extortion.
keep us apprised, eh?
hoping for the best.
"More for Gore or the son of a drug lord--None of the above, fuck it, cut the cord."
--Zack de la Rocha
"I tell you I'll have nothing to do with the place...The roof of that hall is made of bones."
-- Fiver
Hoping for the best and keeping it real.
When you hear the words directed at yourself it's not so bad. It's when you here those same words directed at a loved one that the full force of the words are felt. The routine is one-day-at-a-time becoming one-month-at-a-time to one-year-at-a-time, then it is just part of the norm.
This is the way it is "normally" sans cancer. People appear and people disappear for all sorts of reasons. The cycle of life continues, some of us learn this early while others have the luxury of remaining innocent until later in life.
I learned this lesson as a three year old when I witnessed my almost five year old sister disappear forever.
I'm so sorry to hear
about your sister. Because this occurred early in your life it even more poignant.
The range of individual experiences with death approaches infinity. Mine was a bit weird in that all death was well removed from me until I cared for my stepmother in her last months. She and I shared a weird childhood fear: the fear of encountering a dead body. Where does that come from? For some reason I was exempted from being near any kind of death until well into my 40's when I cared for her.
With her I learned attending a death is a privilege and not a responsibility. And after that it seems like so many people have had me attend to them at the end in one way or another. It is as if her death healed me in some way.
But I'm getting all weird and emotional and un-scientific again. But I'll return to my point that everyone seems to have wildly different and individual experiences with death during life. The saddest are always those experienced early in life. You have my profound sympathy.
This is so very true.
You have my profound sympathy, I cannot imagine how that changed your world as a adult.
Before I go all maudlin, I will note that there are moments when you truly get to know another, and those moments define you.
Every time this topic comes up I experience a "flash-back" to my earliest memory. Memory, not memories, as in "my life starts here" memory.
While we have some photos of my older sister, none of them suggest joy. Normally, when you look at family photos, pure visceral joy is easily discerned, but it is not there in these photos. I have a memory of standing across from a small house on a gravel road in the remnant of the Sagebrush Steppe in my home town. The little girl on the front porch is dressed in a party dress and has long curly hair. The only thing I am certain of is that it is not a memory of Shirley Temple in some movie, even though it certainly looks that way. I think it is a real memory of my sister during a particularly happy moment, probably not long before she died. It's a comforting image, and somehow very important.
So, how's that for being un-scientific.
I thought of Tuesdays with Morrie: An Old Man, a Young Man, and Life's Greatest Lesson by Mitch Albom as I read your comment. My own experiences have not been exactly like this story but ...
For several years I and my friend Richard talked endlessly about the inevitable and the things we would like to do before the end. I think we both knew all along that he would go first, but, nothing really ever prepares you for reality and the fact that we never really get to do all that we would like.
@PriceRip Like gustogirl, death
I'm Like gustogirl; death mostly avoided me for the first 40-some years of my life. Though of course I lost my grandparents, which was harder for me because they had raised me until I was three.
Edited to get rid of a dangling modifier.
"More for Gore or the son of a drug lord--None of the above, fuck it, cut the cord."
--Zack de la Rocha
"I tell you I'll have nothing to do with the place...The roof of that hall is made of bones."
-- Fiver
You have my sympathy.
I hope you have good memories of those early years.
I think of how my granddaughter has grown these past six years, and how so much she learned (and matured) during the early years. One very good thing about the modern first world experience: My granddaughter has access to a very large repository of media documenting her early life.
I like Terry Pratchett's, "No one is actually dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away.”
From a professional point of view I am very aware of our place in the scheme of Reality, I brook no delusions in my life. But, in a very real way the people I have known are still having an influence upon the world.
As I meet new people (particularly now that I am moving back to Oregon) I like to think about how they became who they are now. I am continually surprised by the threads and connections indicting how very close knit our histories are if we just take the time to look. My wife is quick to point out that I am constantly networking, everywhere, all the time. It's like I say: I am certain that I am related to Leontyne Price, because my family is everywhere.
@PriceRip Thanks, PriceRip.
Thanks, PriceRip. My grandma died in 2006; my grandfather in 1987, so I'm well past the worst of the grief, though I still, oddly, grieve for my grandfather from time to time. Oddly harder to let him go than my grandmother, maybe because he died so much younger, or when I was so much younger (19 instead of 38).
"More for Gore or the son of a drug lord--None of the above, fuck it, cut the cord."
--Zack de la Rocha
"I tell you I'll have nothing to do with the place...The roof of that hall is made of bones."
-- Fiver
@Cant Stop the Macedonian Signal
My grandmother died when she was 54 and I was almost 5. I only remember her as an awesome person that thought that home was a place of peace and quiet and lots of really good food. Outdoors was for the more boisterous activities and we were invited most politely to stay out until we could act civilized.
I was almost 18 when my grandfather died in the far away land of Salt Lake City. I worshipped that guy. He had lived a life: He was a lumber jack in Idaho, he did hard rock tunneling building the famous tunnel in Zion National Park (my grandmother was the first non-employee to drive a non-company car through that tunnel), he could whistle loud enough to be heard over the sound of the rock crusher, and he was a master carpenter in Hollywood for a time. One summer a few years before he moved back to Salt Lake City I spend most of my free time with him. He had leased a little more than an acre of land from U.P.R.R. about a half mile from his tiny home and I would follow him about learning proper gardening technique. I could barely keep up with him as he would stride from one place to another.
I could go on and on but I will wrap up with one last story. One summer he was helping my dad fix up a house for us to live in for a few months. I was watching all the details and he stopped work and looked at me funny like and asked if I wanted to help. I, of course, jumped (literally) at the opportunity. He handed me his Disston Saw. As I was cutting where he indicated, he asked, "When did you become a southpaw?" He didn't know that I learned by watching, and as a mimic I could reproduce those kinds of slow smooth movements regardless of parity. I actually impressed him. That made my day.