We're now the Philippine Cancer Center

Senate OKs bill on national integrated cancer control program, reported by GMA News:

Voting 18-0, the Senate approved on third and final reading Monday a bill seeking to institutionalize a national integrated cancer control program... 

The bill will establish a National Integrated Cancer Control Council whose sole focus is to implement programs that will not only provide comprehensive, accessible and affordable cancer treatments for all cancer patients, but will also work on minimizing the incidence of preventable cancer cases...

The bill shall also mandate the establishment of the Philippine Cancer Center, under the control and supervision of the University of the Philippines-Philippine General Hospital (UP-PGH), for the treatment and accommodation of cancer patients. The center shall also initiate research, in collaboration with other universities, hospital and institutions, for cancer prevention and cure...

Likewise, regional cancer centers shall be established nationwide for the treatment and care of cancer patients. The center shall also undertake and support the training of physicians, nurses, medical technicians, pharmacists, health officers and social workers on good practice models for the delivery of responsive, multidisciplinary, integrated cancer services.

This is a step towards quality care of patients with cancer in the country.

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Birthday poetry

This moves me. A Happy Birthday by Ted Kooser.

This evening I sat by an open window
and read till the light was gone and the book
was no more than a part of the darkness.

I could easily have switched on a lamp,
but I wanted to ride this day down into night,
to sit alone and smooth the unreadable page
with the pale gray ghost of my hand.

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The world's hatred

From F. B. Meyer, "Love to the Uttermost":

It is not difficult, therefore, to go through the world and escape its hate. We have only to adopt its maxims, speak its language, and conform to its ways . . . Ah, how many pleading glances are cast at us to induce us to spare ourselves and others, by toning down out speech, and covering our regimentals by the disguising cloke of conformity to the world around! “If you do not approve, at least you need not express your disapproval.” “If you cannot vote for, at least do not vote against.” If you dissent, put your sentiments in courtly phrase, and so pare them down that they may not offend sensitive ears.

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Delivery

My package from Amazon arrived, the first of its kind I've received. It's a pair of chukka boots, my early Christmas gift for Manong. Another one is arriving next week, also a pair of chukka boots (same brand, different leather color) for Sean. I have the same pair of shoes, too. We dress the same way, my brothers and I, and share many interests. Over the years they've become fans of automatic wristwatches, fountain pens, and eyeglasses. When I met the UPS delivery guy at my building's lobby last night, I felt, upon receipt of the box, like it was "Christmas morning." I remember my friend Rac, who calls happy days "Christmas mornings." The chukkas and the wristwatches were due to my friend Carlos's rabid interest in their items, a fascination that infected me throughout these years I've known him.

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Pakô salad

I'm not impressed by farm-to-table restaurants. I suppose that's because I grew up eating vegetables plucked from the farm, our neighbor's garden, and our own backyard, that I find the concept ordinary. For lunch at home, we had the pakô salad—picked from Auntie Lisa's farm—drizzled with vinegar, and to which mother added slices of fresh mango. This wasn't the main dish; for that, we had tuna pangá and a mouth-watering serving of rice (store-bought, not from our farm. The harvest season won't be until a few months).

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Ispeling

Kung ano ang bigkas, siya rin ang baybay. Pomme frites stall at Golden Valley Memorial Garden, Koronadal City, South Cotabato.

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Books that fit in one's hand

Dwarsliggers–these are called. They are developed in the Netherlands and will be adopted by Penguin, targeting the young. I'm no longer as young, but whatever gets me reading, I will try at some point. The design makes sense, and I'm excited to try one of these books as soon as they become available locally.





Glad to read this quote from Carl Sagan:

“A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic . . . It’s a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you’re inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years.”

It goes without saying that I've been doing most of my reading in my Kindle (I named it John Ames—one has to during device registration) because of storage limitations where I live. I still read paperbacks, especially old ones, because I like how they smell.

Photo credits: NYT

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November adventures

I took the earliest flight to Gensan. I was at NAIA at 2 AM. Traffic from Mandaluyong to Pasay was light. There weren't long queues at the airport. I read a book on my Kindle, did some academic reading in my laptop, and slept throughout much of the flight. It was the perfect arrangement.



My kid brother Sean picked me up from the airport on November 1 at 6 AM. In my family, apart from my father who had already passed away, he remains the only one who can get behind the wheel. We passed by the fruit stands in Tupi, where we bought papaya, mangga, pinya, and melon, to give to mother.



We visited Tatay's grave at 8 AM and chatted with old friends and acquaintances. Nanay hosted a party for close family and friends that evening. November 1 felt a lot like a family reunion.

The next day, Sean drove Manong Ralph to Auntie Lisa's property in Banga. Manong spoke at the church's youth camp, exhorting the participants, who used to be in Sunday school (how times flies!), to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. Sean and I roamed around Auntie Lisa's beautiful property. Praise be to God for her hospitality and generosity.







I spent my third day at home watching Season 6 of House of Cards. Sean drove us around the city and treated us to afternoon snacks.

Today, we're going to church in the morning. Sean is driving me to the airport for my 3 PM flight to Manila.

Thanks, Sean! What would your brothers do without you?

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Less is not more

Here's a helpful comment by Drs. Filho and Burstein.

The PHARE, HORG, and SOLD studies also failed to demonstrate non-inferiority. To date, only one of 5 trials of shorter vs longer durations of adjuvant trastuzumab – the PERSEPHONE study of 6 vs 12 months – has demonstrated non-inferiority for a shorter regimen. All the others showed a measurable 2-3% reduction in recurrence risk with the longer duration of trastuzumab therapy.

The conclusion is that, for Her-2 positive breast cancer, 12 months of trastuzumab is still better than a shorter duration of giving the said drug.

But based on the data in Short-HER2 and four other trials of treatment duration, we believe that 12 months of trastuzumab, including 3 months of concurrent administration with taxane-based chemotherapy, remains the standard of care and the optimal duration of therapy. Lesser durations of trastuzumab maintenance treatment appear associated with a greater risk of disease recurrence.

The article's final statement is well-worded.

One year is a long time, especially when getting treatment for breast cancer. But for most women with HER2 positive tumors, that looks like time well spent.

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Superlative blessedness

F.B. Meyer's Love to the Uttermost has been used by the Lord to encourage me in my daily devotions. In his preaching, "Heaven Delayed, but Guaranteed," he expounds on John 13:36:

"Simon Peter said unto Him, Lord, wither goest Thou? Jesus answered him. Whither I go, thou canst follow Me now; but thou shalt follow Me afterward."

To celebrate the lives of those who have gone before us, this is an assurance of heaven, where God is. The presence of God makes it so. It is the love that Christians long for. F.B. Meyer erupts in praise of this love.

There is no love like His—so pure and constant and satisfying. What the sun is to a star-light, and the ocean to a pool left by the retiring tide, such is the love of Jesus compared with all other love. To have it is superlative blessedness, to miss it is to thirst forever.

Read Love to Uttermost for free here.

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