non hodgkin lymphoma

A groundbreaking gene therapy treatment which boosts a patient’s own immune cells has been shown to clear disease from one third of terminal patients.

US pharmaceutical company Kite Pharma released results from the first six months of its trial of the new treatment, called CAR-T cell therapy.

Some 36 per cent of the 101 patients on the trial were still in complete remission at six months, and eight in 10 saw their cancer shrink by at least half during the study.

“The numbers are fantastic,” said Dr Fred Locke, a blood cancer expert at Moffitt Cancer Center in Tampa who co-led the study.

“These are heavily treated patients who have no other options.”

The treatment, which has been dubbed ‘a living drug’ by doctors, works by filtering a patient’s blood to remove key immune system cells called T-cells, which are then genetically engineered in the lab to recognise cancer cells.

Cancer cells are very good a evading the immune system, but the new therapy essentially cuts the brakes, allowing immune cells to do their job properly.

Martin Ledwick, Cancer Research UK’s head cancer information nurse, said: “These results are promising and suggest that one day CAR-T cells could become a treatment option for some patients with certain types of lymphoma.

“But, we need to know more about the side effects of the treatment and long term benefits.”

Patients in the study had one of three types of non-Hodgkin lymphoma, a blood cancer which affects 13,600 patients in Britain, and had failed all other treatments. Most patients with such an advanced condition only live for six months but half of the trial group are still alive nine months since the trial began, and a third may be cured.

Dimas Padilla, 43, of Orlando, who was warned his case was worsening after chemotherapy stopped working, is now in complete remission after undergoing the therapy last August.

After learning his cancer was probably terminal he said: "I was thinking how am I going to tell this to my mother, my wife, my children,” he said.

After CAR-T therapy he saw his tumours “shrink like ice cubes” and is now in complete remission.

“They were able to save my life,” Mr Padilla added.

However there are still concerns that the treatment has significant side effects, and can even kill some patients, as it puts the immune system into a state of over-drive. During the trial two people died from the therapy, rather than their cancer.

Of the study participants, 13 per cent developed a dangerous condition where the immune system overreacts in fighting the cancer, and roughly a third of patients developed anaemia or other blood-count-related problems.

Nearly one third also reported neurological problems such as sleepiness, confusion, tremor or difficulty speaking, but these typically lasted just a few days.

The scans show how cancer has disappeared after just three months, and the remission has continued
The scans show how cancer has disappeared after just three months, and the remission has continued
Full results will be presented at the American Association for Cancer Research conference in April and the company plans to seek approval from European regulators later this year.

“It’s a safe treatment, certainly a lot safer than having progressive lymphoma,"said the cancer institute’s Dr Steven Rosenberg,

Other companies, such as Juno Therapeutics, have had to halt trials into CAR-T treatments following patient deaths.


Jackie Kennedy had a three-pack-a-day habit that lasted for over forty years. Photographs of her smoking (or getting ready to) exist but they are extremely rare. One of the reasons was her prerogative as First Lady. If she told people not to take a photo, then no photograph was taken. She also made sure that people didn’t refer to her habit in print, either. When William Manchester was writing The Death of a President , he made a reference to Jackie at Parkside Hospital fishing a cigarette out of her purse. It was one of many passages Jackie insisted that he cut out of the final draft.

Those who knew her, though, were well aware of her habit. Lyndon Johnson, for example, always made sure that the LBJ Ranch was well-stocked with Salems – Mrs. Kennedy’s brand of choice – whenever she visited.

After she married Aristotle Onassis, Jackie became a bit less protective of her image, but she still smoked, often with the aid of a cigarette holder. She only quit at the request of her daughter Caroline, after having been diagnosed in early 1994 with non-Hodgkins’ lymphoma.

NHLers are human too, let's honor them for their battle off the ice part 2.
  • Dominic Moore: Lost his wife to a rare form of cancer.
  • Steve Downie: his father died in a crash while driving him to hockey practice when he was 9
  • Bobby Ryan: moved cross country in secrecy after his father was arrested for beating his mother
  • Mario Lemieux: beat Hodgkin's disease
  • Saku Koivu: beat non-Hodgkins lymphoma
  • Josh Harding: battles multiple sclerosis
  • Theoren Fleury: battles crohn's disease
  • Bobby Clarke, Toby Peterson, Nick Boynton: battle diabetes
  • Jean-Sébastien Giguère: suffers from a rare gastric condition
  • Milan Lucic: battles Scheuermann's disease
  • Anders Lindback: battles Still's disease
  • Jason Blake: battles leukemia.
Komaeda Nagito (Danganronpa series): Character Study

TL; DR: Komaeda is a plot device for the creators  – placed into the plot during important moments in order to act as the catalyst for certain events in the story line. Komaeda is not, objectively speaking, an inherently evil character. He genuinely cares about those that embody hope. However, he cannot understand other people’s feelings due to the effects of his dementia. Therefore, he projects his desires, like creating the ultimate hope, onto others without apology, believing they should be willing to die for this common goal. 

Keep reading


This is me in the middle of my chemo process and me 7 months after kicking cancer out of my body (tried to do the same pose but failed lol).

It has been quite the process but it surely taught me plenty of things. and even though I sometimes struggle with my hair being in different awkward stages, I’m just thankful it’s growing back strong and beautiful. 

cause cancer’s not gonna stop me from feeling and looking pretty. It can suck my balls!

Well, taking a shower is a lot faster now

I’m nearing the end of Round 1 of chemo and I noticed every time I touched my head, hairs were falling out. 

It got pretty bad so I decided yesterday morning I would go get it shaved. I was too nervous to shave myself and didn’t want to end up cutting my head or something. 

So I went where I normally get my hair cut, to the Headquarters in Crocker Park. 

I was the first time I really felt like “a cancer patient.” So far the only people I’ve told have been friends, family, and medical professionals. This was the first time I had to tell a stranger. 

I just walked in and went up to the receptionist and said basically that I didn’t have an appointment, but I normally see Allison, and I was wondering if anyone was free right now because I have cancer and can someone please shave my head. I was stumbling over my words and talking really fast. You can see peoples’ faces change as soon as you say “cancer,” and its awkward and sad and I didn’t want to feel awkward or sad I want to be able to embrace this new haircut and be badass about it. 

They were so nice, Brooke took me back and talked to me. We cut off a bunch of my hair. I told her I had already cut it myself which is why it might look crazy. And she started buzzing my hair. I’ve never had a hair cut like that. It’s kind of nice, almost like a massage and I can see why guys with short hair like to get hair cuts often. I was kind of emotional, I got through almost the entire thing without crying. It wasn’t til the very end, when we had gotten it the right length and were finishing up when this song came on the radio that was one of those super inspirational songs and it was saying things like girl you’re beautiful cause you glow from the inside and all about being strong and crap and I couldn’t help it. 

It’s not just the hair, although I guess that is a big part of it. I loved my hair, probably more than most people like their hair. At my worst, when I felt the fattest, grossest, and most disgusting, I could always say “at least I have nice hair.” I just got lucky with my genes, and lucky enough to meet amazing hair dressers. I had thick gorgeous hair. I could dye it without destroying it. I would literally wash my hair, let it air dry, and it looked wonderful. People would say, “I wasn’t sure it was you, then I saw the hair and knew.” It definitely was a part of my identity. 

But its also just the symbol. Like I look more like what people expect a cancer patient to look like. This is really happening. I’m really putting poison in my body to kill this cancer. I really have to be careful about the smallest things, because patients have died from little colds or a little bacteria. People are going to look at me and feel bad for me. I want that but I don’t want that. 

But it is what it is. 

Quick story: Andy Whitfield, the amazing and wonderful human being best known for playing Spartacus in the first season of the Starz series, died of cancer in 2011. He was in diagnosed with Stage 4 non-Hodgkin lymphoma after the first season wrapped in 2010 and, after six rounds of chemo treatments and being declared cancer free, he went for some routine testing and found out he’d relapsed. Because of that, he had to abandon his role just as he was gearing up to start season 2. Ultimately, he died a year later – 18 months after his original diagnosis. 

Why am I writing this, you ask? Because, originally made in 2015, Netflix has put up the documentary/biography by Lilibet Foster about Andy’s journey and battle against cancer after his relapse – literally from the weekend of when they got the news, all the way to the very end, and “catching up” with family a year after. It really focuses on Andy and his wife, Vashti, but his kids and parents are there as well. It’s a documentary, since they filmed the last year of his life (not knowing that’s what it was), but it also plays like a home movie since Andy and Vashti also filmed some on their own. Its very open and honest on how he, his wife and parents feel, about the process, and its just moving, inspiring and very emotional. I was in tears nearly from start to finish. Its called Be Here Now. I would definitely recommend it if you are battling against cancer, or know/knew someone going through it, or even if you’re just a fan Andy.


Woke up to find the pizza and wings we ordered last night were left out overnight. Old me would risk it but cancer me cannot risk it, so I gotta find an alternative breakfast. 

Let’s see, updates since my CAT scan day. 

I’ve felt terrible and steadily improving. I think these antibiotics are getting at whatever I have. The codeine is definitely helping with the pain. The pain has moved lower and is much less sharp now. But I still have this feeling of “rubbing” when I cough and such. :/

I felt good enough to go out to dinner on Friday with Matt. I even got AN ALCOHOLIC DRINK, my first since chemo, since I was on a little meds break. Of course my drink was SO watered down I started to wonder if Matt had secretly told them to make it a virgin lol. 

And yesterday I got out of the house with Calla which was excellent, and Rae is coming by today. Like Calla and I talked about, I need to do a better job of celebrating my good days, or at least using them. There will be long periods of me in my little hole, sick, weak, and not feeling up to messaging people let alone going out, so I should take advantage of my good days and really enjoy them. 

The fact that the weather on Friday was perfect really lifted my spirits. It was like 75, sunny but not bright, a little bit of wind, and it really recharged me and got me excited for springtime. 

I’ve made a list of a bunch of places I want to go in Cleveland, and some of them are things I’ll have to wait til after chemo to do so I think I will also make a list of things to do after chemo (I’m not allowed certain things, like going to a movie theater full of kids and germs, or generally to be drinking alcohol, etc). 

I also spent yesterday making a late 90s playlist that I’m pretty proud of :3

Things are good so I hope that means this week will be all up and up until I go in for Chemo round #2

Reed–Sternberg cells are different giant cells found with light microscopy in biopsies from individuals with Hodgkin’s lymphoma. They are usually derived from B lymphocytes, classically considered crippled germinal center B cells, meaning they have not undergone hypermutation to express their antibody. Seen against a sea of B cells, they give the tissue a moth-eaten appearance. 

Reed–Sternberg cells are large and are either multinucleated or have a bilobed nucleus with prominent eosinophilic inclusion-like nucleoli (thus resembling an “owl’s eye” appearance). Reed–Sternberg cells are CD30 and CD15 positive, usually negative for CD20 and CD45. The presence of these cells is necessary in the diagnosis of Hodgkin’s lymphoma – the absence of Reed–Sternberg cells has very high negative predictive value. They can also be found in reactive lymphadenopathy (such as infectious mononucleosis, carbamazepine associated lymphadenopathy) and very rarely in other types of non-Hodgkin lymphomas.

Pediatric Rotation

Oh man. That was a crazy 6 weeks. 

I started on inpatient wards. Let me tell you, waking up at 5am is no easy feat. I’m not looking forward to the early mornings on surgery.

Originally posted by pokemoncap

Anyway- here’s the stuff I saw a lot on inpatient peds!

RSV- respiratory track infections
Cystic Fibrosis exacerbations
Asthma exacerbations
Meningitis (I only saw viral, but we do full sepsis workup on these patients anyway)
Weird rashes
Snake bites!??!!?

Here’s the thing about doing peds in the summer- kids aren’t super sick because they aren’t in school and therefore aren’t giving each other a bunch of germs. Census was super low, so I didn’t see as much as I would have if I’d done it in, say, october-february. 

Here’s what I had in my White Coat- snacks, chapstick, Maxwell’s pocket guide (incredible resource if you have no clue what you’re doing), tongue depressors, stethoscope, alcohol pads (to clean your steth between patients and to get rid of stickiness on kids), gloves, pens, notepad

Next week was Heme/Onc. I thought this week was going to be really sad, but it wasn’t! We can actually do a LOT for these kids! Know the differences between ALL, AML, CLL, CML, Hodgkin and non-hodgkin lymphoma. Sickle Cell disease is super high yield in real life as well as on boards. Who knew? Also- bone cancer. Not crazy high yield, but I definitely saw Ewing Sarcoma in a kiddo or two. 

Mother/Baby Unit- NEWBORNS! Oh man. Things to know- developmental milestones, how to do a newborn exam, newborn reflexes, how to take a pregnancy/labor/delivery history, how to manage hyperbilirubinemia and premies and SGA babies and infants of diabetic mothers. Wear gloves when you touch the babies. We even got to go down and see some high risk deliveries/c-sections and do a little resuscitation. “Warm and dry! Warm and dry!” Babies breathe fast, so don’t get overwhelmed if you can’t distinguish breath sounds from heart murmurs. 

Originally posted by doctorfowler24601

Outpatient…. I didn’t enjoy outpatient as much. It’s a lot of patient management, which isn’t my favorite. I did Adolescent medicine (think ages 10-25). A lot of eating disorders. A lot of patients lying to you. A lot of talking about depression, anxiety, and sex. Not a lot of procedures. Not a lot of action. A LOT of talking. A WHOLE LOT OF TALKING. Things to know- HEADS history questions

Endocrine outpatient was a lot better! This is where I saw some cool cases. A lot of diabetes and hypothyroidism, but some other stuff like short stature, panhypopituitarism, precocious puberty, graves disease, etc… I also lucked out, because the docs on endocrine here really liked to teach.

As far as the shelf exam went… it was SUPER random. But here are some general things to know that will help you in peds

Calculate maintenance fluid
Memorize developmental milestones
Know the vaccine schedule
Calculate how much a baby should weigh
Calculate Ins and Outs
Newborn exam
SWU (sepsis workup)
How to manage dehydration
Most common causes of meningitis and pneumonia in different age ranges

you were the type of woman that would hug the homeless, feed the poor and smile at strangers. You were the type of woman that accepted others no matter what. You would cure the wounded, offer a home to foster kids and volunteer rehabilitating convicts. You loved everyone unconditionally, you were humble and modest. you helped others without ever asking for anything in return. you were a pure gentle loving soul. you were the example of what every woman should be. I lost you to cancer many years ago but I still remember you vividly. I strive to be like you everyday, all my triumphs are inspired by you. I will make you proud. Happy birthday, I love you, mom!

Samsung and Apple workers rise up to fight cancerous conditions

Along with advocacy groups, the workers are demanding that companies like Samsung and Apple address dangerous plant conditions they claim are leading workers to develop deadly blood cancers, occupational leukemia and non-Hodgkins lymphoma.

So far, there have been more than 100 cases of workers developing these cancers during or after their time at the plants.

The problems seem to be arising on semiconductor production lines, where workers sterilize materials for smart phones and LCD screens with a mixture of dangerous chemicals. Workers come in close, repeated contact with benzene and trichloroethylene, known to cause the types of blood cancers popping up at the plants.

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Okay…just got back to the mainland after spending four beautiful days on a remote island, Koh Rong Saloem, off the southern coast of Cambodia. So remote that the island doesn’t have any internet access. I had a lot of time to think and write, so you’ll hear all about in future posts. But for now, and the most exciting post I’ll publish throughout our trip is this one.

We get back to the mainland and found the first spot to connect to wifi (ah, what a world we live in). We WhatsApped our parents first to let them know we were okay. I figured my mom may be freaking out, because I wasn’t hanging around the www and she didn’t know we weren’t going to have internet access. We didn’t know either until we arrived on the island. Turns out she only lost a couple night’s sleep. ;) Love you, mom.

Now for the good stuff. I see my brother, Scotty’s WhatsApp text, “I’m in full remission. Love you.” Wha?!?!??! I did not believe what my eyes were telling me. I’m 100% sure this news trumps everything I’ve seen and done or will see and do on this trip. It’s moments like these that make you weep of pure happiness. This is the good stuff in life. My only fret is that I’m not there to celebrate with him. It’s 4:09 AM and I’m in a sleeper “hotel” bus en route to Siem Reap in Cambodia, but I can’t sleep. Partially due to the appauling road conditions, but mostly because I’m overjoyed with happiness about my bro’s health, am so homesick for him and my fam and there are about a bazillion stars in the sky out my window…and I can’t stop staring and thinking and the tears (the good kind) are on an automatic drip. Scotty, I love you, am so proud of you for fighting and wish you a lifetime of happiness and good health. I think you’re in need of a holiday. Pick a spot!

I’m sure most of you know, but if not, here’s background on bro: At 35 and in Sept 2012, my big bro, Scotty was diagnosed with Non Hodgkin Lymphoma. It’s been a hell of a year for him and our fam. But, after surgery & hospitalization, chemo, radiation, countless meds, dr.’s visits, tests, stress and 14 months, there is now true relief for the first time.

TAYLOR PLEASE WATCH: On April 7, 2011, Emily Beazley’s life was forever changed when she was diagnosed with Stage III T-Cell Lymphoblastic Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, the most aggressive form of Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. After 2.5 years of chemotherapy in her port, legs, and spine, Emily finished treatment on July 18, 2013.

Just when life was getting back to “normal” Emily relapsed . Intense chemotherapy started again on March 24, 2014. Emily was responding well on the chemotherapy, but one cancerous lymph node became chemo resistant and continued to grow. She began radiation at Northwestern Hospital on that lymph node on July 10, 2014, and the cancer responded perfectly to it. Full body radiation and high dose chemotherapy was administered as part of her pre-transplant conditioning on August 12, 2014, and the stem cell transplant took place on August 20, 2014 at Lurie’s Children’s Hospital. We are fortunate her sister Olivia was a perfect match.

Emily is courageously fighting her battle, and is determined to beat this once and for all. With the support of family, friends, and the entire community, Emily will win this fight!

Emily has had the wish to go to Disney World since she finished cancer treatment the first time. That was going to be reward. Just days before booking the trip, she relapsed in March of 2014. She finished her treatment for the relapse, which included the stem cell transplant, and Disney talks began again. On January 12, 2015, during a routine PET scan, three new spots were discovered. After receiving this terrible news, the Beazley family wants to take Emily on her dream trip ASAP. Your donation will help them create amazing memories that will be cherished forever. Thank you.

It’s her dream to meet you Taylor!! The link to her website is in my bio!

This Is What It Feels Like to Have Cancer at 20 Years Old

“In some ways, what you have is treatable—though we don’t really use the term ‘cure,’” sighed the hematologist. “'Remission’ is much more appropriate.”

There I was, listening to my consultant ramble on about semantics, waiting to hear whether or not I was going to die. I was another 20-year-old winner of the cancer lottery, one of the seven young people diagnosed with cancer in the UK every day. This was my day. What had previously been a statistic on a GP’s waiting room wall had become my reality. My frankly very disappointing reality.

Aside from the whole life-threatening disease thing, everything had actually been going pretty well for me. I’d been in my first serious relationship for three-and-a-half months and had settled happily into British life as an exchange student, over from my native France.

In retrospect, this probably made the news slightly harder to stomach. For the first time I had someone whose happiness I valued over my own, compounding the anxiety I was already feeling. I also had an inkling that the impending treatment might put the stoppers on my usual regime of going to house parties and generally having fun without having to think about what was coming the next morning—whether it would involve a needle in my arm or a scalpel or a massive machine making loud clicking noises while I laid inside, acutely aware of my own mortality.

And to think of how I’d ended up there: first, it was the swelling of a lymph node on the first day of summer. Then the local GP failing to acknowledge that something was wrong. Twice.

Then I did the sensible thing and tried to diagnose myself on the internet. For once, what I read was reassuring: nine times out of ten, said faceless strangers on a forum, swelling is just a symptom of a benign infection. However, just for peace of mind, I thought I’d pay one last visit to my GP to check that Dr. Google wasn’t bullshitting me—that there really wasn’t anything wrong with this ugly growth that had started to annex my neck.

I was eventually referred to A&E, where I underwent a couple of infection-related tests. A fortnight later, a phone call summoned me to the hospital. The results were negative. Serious causes would have to be considered. To properly consider these serious causes, it transpired, I’d have to spend extended periods of time under anesthetic/wearing ass-revealing hospital gowns/having bits of tissue cut out of me.

External image
The author after a biopsy on his swollen lymph node

Weeks later, after being referred to a specialist in France, I was finally told what I could never resign myself to face, despite the fact the idea had been pawing away at the back of my mind for some time.

“It appears we have found abnormal cells during the biopsy. These are called Non-Hodgkin lymphoma cells. There are many different types of lymphoma. Yours is called diffuse large B-Cell.”

The C word was dropped, uneasily.