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#Cervical Cancer Diagnosis

0healthcare1 · 17 days

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https://www.hercaregroup.com/cervical-cancer/

Explore cervical cancer types, symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment options. Get informed and empowered to take control of your cervical health journey.

#Cervical Cancer Types #Cervical Cancer Symptoms #Cervical Cancer Diagnosis #Cervical Cancer Treatment

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digimarksposts · 1 year

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3 Things One Should Do To Prevent Cervical Cancer

January is dedicated to the spread of awareness about cervical cancer and below mentioned is a guide for all women - a guide that can save lives. Let's begin with understanding the basics.

What is cervical cancer?

It is a cancer of the cervix or the lower part of the uterus (womb). If not treated, it can spread to other parts such as the vagina, bladder, rectum and even the lungs. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), Human Papillomavirus(HPV) is the major contributing factor to this cancer and is transmitted through sexual contact.

HPV can be curable if diagnosed at an early stage or else it may develop into cervical cancer and cause major complications. By having effective vaccinations and tests done at a certain age, women can avoid being diagnosed with the same. Women above the age of 35 are more likely to develop chances of contracting the HPV virus. Hence, they are advised to get periodic screening, tests and consultations with oncologists in Bangalore.

Prevention is better than cure:

Cervical cancer is treatable if diagnosed at earlier stages in the best hospitals in Bangalore. With new age screenings and tests, one can eliminate the chances of the HPV virus or the development of any other pre-cancerous cells in the cervix. Read on to know the various screenings one can undergo to diagnose this cancer.

Papanicolaou test (Pap smear): A PAP test is a regular pelvic examination wherein the doctor will collect cells from the cervical wall to eliminate any chances of the development of cancer. This is advised for women above age 30 and can be repeated after 5 years combined with HPV testing if prescribed by the doctor.

VIA Screening: Visual Inspection of the cervical wall with Acetic Acid for lesions can be an effective way to rule out any possibility of the presence of cancerous cells in the cervix. Those testing positive for VIA are sent for cryotherapy immediately after the cervical biopsy.

HPV Testing: 99.9% of the time HPV is the cause for cervical cancer and can cause major complications. Testing for this can provide the patient ample time for diagnosis, treatment and cure. HPV takes 10 years to develop after screening and hence enough time to take care of oneself and begin the journey for the right treatment with an oncologist in Bangalore.

Depending on the results of your tests, the doctor prescribes further steps to be taken. The healthcare provider may either prescribe further tests or surgical procedures for the removal of cancerous cells. It is best to consult with the best oncologists at Trust-in Hospital, one of the best multispeciality hospitals in Bangalore with over 15+ departments and a world-class oncology department. This hospital provides patient-centric services at affordable prices.

Cervical Cancer screenings are carried out to eliminate chances of HPV virus or cancerous cells. Despite the age of one's first sexual intercourse, it is best for women to begin their screenings and tests at age 21 and follow up every few years so as to understand the history and how often one should get the tests done. It is also equally crucial to select the best hospitals in Bangalore for one's journey in understanding their chance of contracting HPV. Being a stressful one, Trust-in Hospital makes it simple and completely guided with the best oncologists in Bangalore onboard.

Conclusion:

Be responsible and get tested for HPV periodically to win the fight against cervical cancer. Share this guide with your loved ones to spread awareness about the same and help save lives. To know more about cervical cancer and its complications or to get a screening done, visit the best team of oncologists in Bangalore at Trust-in Hospital.

Author Profile:

Trust-in Hospital is a major multi-speciality medical hospital in Bangalore. Its mission is to provide high-quality, personalised healthcare to patients. The best and most skilled specialists work at this cutting-edge hospital. It integrates advanced medical technologies and modern infrastructure to provide comprehensive and cost-effective care to both outpatients and inpatients using a multidisciplinary approach.

#oncologist in bangalore #hospitals in bangalore #hospitals in horamavu #oncologist in horamavu #cervical cancer #cervical cancer treatment #cervical cancer diagnosis

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pathologylab · 11 months

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#Cervical_cancer, primarily caused by high-risk strains of the #Human Papillomavirus (HPV) affects millions of women worldwide. Regular #screenings can help in prevention and early #diagnosis of the #disease thus helping in timely #treatment.

Our multiplex #diagnostic kits enable accurate identification of High #Risk #HPV strains using specific primers and fluorescent labeled probes. Join #Genes2Me to “fight against cervical cancer with early detection” using our highly sensitive and accurate HPV detection #kits.

#hpvawareness #hpvvirus #hpvcure #hpvgenotypes #MolecularDiagnostics #moleculardiagnosticslab #pcr #cervicalcancersymptoms #cervicalcancersurvivor #cervicalcancerscreening #cervicalcancerawareness #cancer #rtpcr #cervicalcancerprevention

#hpv #rt pcr #diagnosis #cervical cancer #risk #testing #genes2me #molecular diagnostics lab #screening

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healthcare-industry · 1 year

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Cervical Cancer Treatment in India

Cervical cancer is a type of cancer that affects the cervix, the lower part of the uterus. Treatment options for cervical cancer include surgery, radiation therapy, chemotherapy, and targeted therapy. Surgery may involve removing the cancerous tissue or the entire uterus. Radiation therapy uses high-energy beams to kill cancer cells, while chemotherapy uses drugs to destroy cancer cells. Targeted therapy targets specific molecules in cancer cells to inhibit their growth.

Symptoms of cervical cancer may include abnormal vaginal bleeding, pelvic pain, pain during intercourse, and unusual vaginal discharge. Diagnosis typically involves a pelvic examination, Pap smear, HPV testing, colposcopy, and biopsy. These tests help detect abnormal cells and determine the extent of the cancer.

Treatment for cervical cancer carries certain risks and complications. Surgery can lead to bleeding, infection, and damage to nearby organs. Radiation therapy may cause fatigue, skin changes, and bladder and bowel problems. Chemotherapy can result in nausea, hair loss, and increased infection risk.

The primary cause of cervical cancer is infection with high-risk types of HPV, particularly HPV types 16 and 18. Other risk factors include a weakened immune system, smoking, long-term use of oral contraceptives, and multiple sexual partners.

The treatment procedure and recovery period depend on the chosen treatment modality. Surgery may require hospitalization and a few weeks of recovery. Radiation therapy and chemotherapy are typically administered over several weeks or months. Recovery may involve managing side effects and attending follow-up appointments.

Treatment preparation involves discussions with the healthcare team to understand the treatment options, potential risks, and benefits. This includes determining the most suitable treatment plan based on the cancer stage and characteristics. Additional tests or evaluations may be necessary before starting treatment.

Clinical trials play a crucial role in advancing cervical cancer treatment. They investigate new therapies and treatments to improve patient outcomes. Participation in clinical trials may provide access to innovative treatments and contribute to future advancements.

The cost of cervical cancer treatment in India can vary based on factors such as cancer stage, treatment type, hospital charges, and individualized care plans. It is advisable to consult healthcare providers for accurate cost estimates and explore insurance coverage options.

Side effects of cervical cancer treatment include fatigue, nausea, vomiting, hair loss, changes in appetite, and increased infection susceptibility. The healthcare team provides supportive care to manage these side effects and improve patient well-being.

The success rate of cervical cancer treatment depends on various factors, including the stage and extent of the cancer, treatment response, and overall health. Early detection and appropriate treatment significantly improve the chances of successful outcomes.

While there is no specific diet to treat cervical cancer, maintaining a healthy and balanced diet is important for overall well-being. A diet rich in fruits, vegetables, whole grains, lean proteins, and healthy fats can support the immune system and aid in recovery. It is recommended to consult with a registered dietitian for personalized dietary guidance during treatment.

#cervical cancer treatment in India #Cervical cancer treatment #Cervical cancer #Cancer #Cervical cancer Symptoms #Cervical cancer causes #Cervical cancer Diagnosis #Cervical cancer risks #Cervical cancer treatment cost #Cervical cancer side-effects

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pucksandpower · 8 months

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The Center Cannot Hold

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: one cruel diagnosis sends your hopes and dreams crashing down in painful shards around you

Warnings: cancer, medical procedures, infertility, religion, recommendation to terminate pregnancy

The sun sneaks through slits in the blinds, casting patches of warmth on your shared bed. You’re nestled against Charles’ chest, his heartbeat a gentle hum beneath your ear.

“Morning,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

You smile, shifting around to meet his gaze. “It’s beautiful outside.”

Charles brushes a stray hair behind your ear. “Every day with you is beautiful.”

There’s a silent pause as the two of just stare at each other. You both know there is more to this morning than mere pleasantries. You think of the tiny stick in the bathroom, far more significant than its small size would have you believe.

“Should we?” You ask hesitantly.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Together.”

You both rise hand in hand, making the short walk to the bathroom. Your hands tremble as you reach for the plastic stick on the granite counter.

With a deep breath, you pick it up.

Two lines.

Positive.

Tears prick your eyes and you turn to Charles. “Look,” your voice barely a whisper.

He chokes on air. “Is this ... are we really”

“We did it,” you confirm, tears streaming freely.

Charles’ eyes shimmer with unshed tears of his own. He pulls you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “We’re going to be parents.”

You pull back slightly, placing a hand on your stomach. “Our baby.”

He nods, laughing softly through his tears. “Our little miracle.”

Holding the test between you both, you share a look of wonder. It feels like the universe has just shifted and realigned in the most beautiful way.

***

The waiting room is a sea of neutral tones and the soft murmurs of hushed conversations. You sit, nervously tapping your fingers on your knee, while Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders in an attempt to calm you.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, “You alright?”

You give him a small, tense smile. “Just a bit nervous. First-time jitters, I guess.”

Charles gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Everything will be fine. It’s just a routine check-up.”

Before you can respond, a soft voice calls out, “Mrs. Leclerc?”

You both rise and follow the nurse as she leads you into a cozy exam room, pastel walls adorned with photos of smiling babies and happy families.

After a series of routine checks and questions, the mood remains light. However, when the doctor enters, a middle-aged woman with a kind face, there’s a subtle shift in the air, a feeling that’s hard to pin down.

“First-time parents?” She asks with a warm smile, trying to put you at ease.

Charles nods, beaming with pride. “Yes and we’re over the moon about it.”

She returns the smile but then her expression becomes more clinical, professional, as she reviews the ultrasound. The room is filled with the sound of the machine and your quiet exhalations.

Minutes stretch on, the silence growing more pronounced. The doctor’s brows furrow, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Charles, sensing the change, grips your hand tighter. “Is everything alright?”

She hesitates for a moment before turning to face you both. “Your baby seems healthy but there’s something concerning about your cervix. I would like to run a few more tests to be sure.”

Your heart plummets, the room suddenly feeling colder. “What ... what do you mean?”

She chooses her words carefully, “There is a chance that it is just a benign irregularity but we need to be certain.”

Tests turn into more tests and the hours seem to blur. Charles is fidgeting anxious mess beside you but his thumb never stops stroking your hand.

Finally, the doctor returns, the weight of the world seemingly on her shoulders. “I won’t sugarcoat it,” she begins heavily. “The results point to cervical cancer.”

Silence deafens the room. The world around you blurs and you feel Charles’ arms wrap around you, holding you as if you might shatter.

“No,” Charles whispers, his voice breaking. “There must be a mistake.”

The doctor looks at you with sympathy. “I wish there was. We caught it early but it’s aggressive. My recommendation would be to terminate the pregnancy and begin treatment immediately.”

Your mind races, heartbreak and disbelief clashing within. “Terminate? But our baby ...”

She gently cuts you off. “It’s the best chance to save your life.”

Your vision blurs, the reality of her words crashing over you like a tidal wave. The room, with its softly painted walls and happy baby pictures, suddenly feels like a cruel mockery.

Charles eyes are clouded over with tears and despair. “Please,” he whispers, holding your face between his trembling hands. “I can’t lose you.”

You choke back a sob, the enormity of the situation making it hard to breathe. “But our baby, Charles. Our little miracle.”

He hugs you close, his voice muffled as he buries his face your hair. “I know. But I need you. We promised each other forever, remember?”

You clutch at him, memories of shared dreams and whispered promises flooding back. The villa by the sea that you would fill with warmth and laughter, growing old together, watching sunsets side by side.

“I can’t imagine a life without you,” he continues, voice breaking. “Not a single day.”

The pain in his words cuts deep, each syllable a raw wound. You hide your face in his chest, tears soaking his shirt.

“We wanted this baby so much,” you whisper brokenly.

“I know,” Charles chokes out. “But I need you with me. I can’t be alone. I can’t live without you.”

***

The soft glow of a lamp casts long shadows, making the room feel both intimate and immense. You sit on the couch, a soft blanket draped around your shoulders, staring blankly at the tea that has long gone cold in your mug.

Charles sits opposite you, unmoving. He clears his throat, searching for words, “I’ve been thinking ... about what the doctor said.”

You look up, meeting his gaze, a storm brewing within it. “So have I.”

Charles closes his eyes, struggling with his emotions. “I can’t bear the thought of a world without you in it. I would be content, you know? To grow old, just the two of us, if it means I spend every day of my life with you by my side.”

Your heart aches, tears pricking your eyes. “Charles, our baby ...”

He cuts you off, voice filled with raw emotion. “I know. But you’re my world. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”

A heavy silence settles between you two, the weight of unsaid words pressing down.

You take a deep breath, “I want this baby. I want our baby. But I also want to grow old with you, to be there for every race, for every win and every loss, on and off the track.”

He reaches across, taking your hand in his, fingers interlocking. “We’ve faced so much together. But this is tearing me apart. I just want you safe.”

You squeeze his hand, searching his eyes. “If I choose the baby, will you ... will you resent me? Will you resent them? If I choose the baby, and ... leave you alone?”

He looks away, the pain of thinking about it clear on his face, “Never. I would be lost. Completely and utterly lost. But I’ll never hold it against you. Or them. I’ll cherish our child but my heart ... my heart would be forever broken.”

You both sit in silence, lost in your thoughts.

“I’ve made up my mind.”

Charles looks at you intently, waiting.

“I’m going to keep the baby.”

He shuts his eyes tightly but a tear manages to slip through the crack and down his face. “I will support whatever decision you make. I just ... I love you so much.”

You move closer, wrapping your arms around him. “I love you too. We’ll face this together, no matter what.”

As you lay down beside Charles, the comfort of the familiar sheets beneath you, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. You can feel the tension in his body, the struggle to be the rock, to be strong.

In the quiet darkness, you feel more than hear his silent sobs, the tremors that shake his frame. You reach out, intertwining your fingers with his, offering the only comfort you can as the world falls apart around you.

***

“Please, mon amour, just eat something,” Charles implores, voice laced with worry as he holds out a plate of your favorite pasta.

The aroma drifts to you, making your stomach churn, but you force a weak smile. “I’ll try.”

It’s been months since that fateful doctor’s appointment. The specter of cancer looms over your pregnancy like a dark cloud, casting shadows on the joy you should be feeling.

Days blur into one another. Doctor visits are now your routine. Charles, who once sped around racetracks with fearless abandon, now navigates the hospital corridors with a silent determination.

There are days when weakness consumes you, moments when you can’t summon the strength to get out of bed. Charles has become your lifeline, helping you dress, making sure you eat, and even carrying you when your legs give out.

“I can’t do this,” you whisper to him one night, tears tracing down your cheeks. “I’m not strong enough.”

He cradles your face, his own eyes brimming with tears he refuses to shed. “You are the strongest person I know. You’re carrying our baby. That’s the bravest thing anyone can do.”

The pain is relentless, a constant companion. Each doctor’s visit brings more bad news. The cancer is spreading and your body is weakening. Yet, you cling to hope, to the belief that your love for each other can conquer anything.

One evening, you're curled up on the couch, aching and exhausted. Charles, sitting beside you, traces a finger along your cheek, his touch gentle as he tries to be strong for both of you.

“You’re my world,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I hate seeing you like this but I would rather be with you in this darkness than without you in the light.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you reach for his hand. “We’ll get through this together. Our love is stronger than anything. Even cancer.”

But you’re not sure how much you can believe that anymore.

***

“You’re playing with fire,” your sister blurts out the moment she steps into your living room. Her eyes are red, mascara messily smudged around them.

Charles’ jaw clenches but before he can retort, your father interjects, his voice roughened by age and worry, “She means you’re risking too much. We all see it.”

You sink further into the couch under the weight of their stares. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you really?” Your mother questions wetly. “Every time we see you, you’re paler, weaker. Is it worth it?”

Charles steps forward, taking your hand. “It’s her choice. And I’ll stand by her through everything.”

Your best friend sighs deeply. “We’re just scared for you. We don’t want to lose you.”

The room becomes a whirlwind of opinions, tears, and pleas. They all mean well, you know that, but the their concerns feel suffocating.

The tension escalates, words sharper than intended, when suddenly Charles explodes, “That’s enough! It’s her decision and it’s not up for you to debate.”

The room falls silent.

Your sister speaks up, “We just love you, that’s all.”

Charles collapses onto the couch beside you, burying his face in his hands. “And you think I don’t? I don’t want to be a widower. A single father looking at our child and seeing only the love we lost,” he admits in a hushed tone, his voice breaking. “It’s the only thing I see whenever I close my eyes. It plagues my dreams. But that love means supporting Y/N even if seeing what she’s going through breaks my heart.”

You pull him close. “I know. But I need to hold onto hope. To believe we can have it all. Our baby and a lifetime together.”

He gazes deep into your eyes. “I love you. More than words can say. I just want you with me, always.”

Tears flow freely down your cheeks as you reach for his hand. “I know you’re scared. I am too. But I believe in us, in our love. And I can’t bear to let go of our baby.”

He wraps you in a hug and you can feel his body trembling. “I don’t want to lose you but I can’t stand to see you suffer like this either.”

***

“Do you think they’ll have your eyes?” Charles murmurs, his hand gently resting on your swollen belly, fingers tracing small circles.

You smile weakly, feeling the flutter of tiny kicks in response. “Or your fearless spirit?”

He chuckles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your baby bump. “Hey there, little racer. Promise me you’ll take after your mother more.”

Despite the weariness that constantly lingers, these quiet moments fill your heart with warmth.

“Imagine,” you whisper one evening, “our little one’s first day of school or their first race if they decide to follow in their papa’s footsteps.”

Charles grins, “And inheriting their maman’s stubborn streak will surely mean they’ll be a world champion.”

As your body grows heavier with the weight of the pregnancy and growth of the cancer, your time spent outside the confines of your bed becomes increasingly limited. The facade Charles wears for your benefit becomes increasingly brittle. He’s your rock, never letting his worries show in front of you, but you still see the toll it’s taking on him.

One evening, after ensuring you’re comfortably tucked in, Charles kisses your forehead softly and whispers, “Rest, mon amour. I’ll be right here.”

Drifting into a fitful sleep, you wake to the muffled sound of heart-wrenching sobs. Curiosity pulls you from the warm cocoon of your bed with the last of your strength, guiding you towards the soft light spilling from the slightly ajar bathroom door.

Listening closer, you can hear Charles’ broken voice, “I can’t ... I can’t lose her. Not like this.”

You press your hand to your mouth, tears spilling down your cheeks as you realize he’s on a call, probably with one of his brothers.

“You don’t understand,” Charles continues, his voice trembling with emotion. Every time I look at her, I see our future slipping away. Our dreams, our plans ... everything is fading into ashes.”

There’s a pause, punctuated with stifled sobs. “I have to be strong for her but it’s tearing me apart. Every smile I wear, every reassurance I give, it all feels like a lie because I am so freaking scared.”

Your heart aches, hearing the raw pain in his voice, knowing all this time he’s been shielding you from his own agony.

Silently, you retreat, not wanting him to know you’ve overheard. Slipping back into bed, you grapple with the weight of the shared pain, the collective heartache that has become your reality.

Minutes later, Charles returns to the bedroom. His eyes red-rimmed but determined. He sends a shaky smile your way, “How’s my brave girl?”

You reach out, trying to pull him against your chest with tired arms. “Let’s be brave together.”

He nods, choking back fresh tears. “Together. No matter what.”

***

The old church stands quietly in Maranello, its tall steeple pointing skyward, as if reaching out to the heavens. Inside, the soft glow of candles flickers as the side door swings open. Don Pietro, an aging priest with kind eyes lined with crow’s feet, is startled by the sudden entrance.

“Charles?” His voice, filled with surprise, echoes softly in the hushed space.

Charles’ normally confident stride is replaced with hesitation. “Don Pietro,” he tries to muster a smile but fails. “I ... I didn’t know where else to go.”

The priest approaches, eyes filled with concern. “I’ve been worried. When Ferrari announced you were taking a season off, I prayed for you.”

Charles chuckles bitterly, “Prayers. Never thought I would be seeking those.”

Don Pietro studies him for a moment. “Pain has a way of making us turn to the unexpected.”

Charles’ face contorts in anguish. “I’ve always called myself an atheist. After Jules ... after my father ... I felt abandoned by any god that might exist. But now, she’s ... she’s everything to me and I’m powerless to stop losing her.”

The priest’s voice is soft when he replies, “Life may test us in ways we can’t comprehend. But God never gives us more than we can bear.”

Charles’ laugh is hollow, devoid of mirth. “Bear? I can’t bear the thought of a world without her. Tell me, how does a loving god allow such pain?”

Don Pietro sighs, the weight of many years shining through. “I won’t pretend to know all the answers but sometimes faith is all we have.”

“I feel like I’m being punished, like I’m cursed. Why else would I lose the people I love most?” Charles looks at the ground, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he takes a shuddering breath. “I would give anything ... anything to save her. I have thought to visit mosques, synagogues, temples ... anywhere some higher power might listen to my pleas. I’m desperate, Don Pietro.”

The priest speaks gently, “Turning to God in times of despair is not weakness. It’s human. But faith is not about bargaining, it’s about having trust.”

A tear rolls down Charles’ cheek. “I’m so scared. Every night, I watch her sleep, wondering if it will be our last night together. I would gladly give up everything else if it means she stays with me.”

The priest reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Then let’s pray, my son. Let us pray together.”

The tears turn to a steady stream rolling down Charles’ cheeks as he falls to his knees. “Please ... I’ll do anything. Just don’t take her away.”

Don Pietro kneels beside him. “God hears you, Charles. And He knows your pain.”

They stay united in prayer. Two souls reaching out to the heavens and begging for a miracle.

***

“It’s too early,” you gasp, clutching the bed sheets as another contraction grips you.

Charles is by your side, panic evident in his eyes even as he tries to keep you calm. “Breathe, love. Just breathe. We’ll get through this.”

But the pain is relentless, each contraction more intense than the last. The hospital room is a blur of activity, doctors and nurses rushing around, preparing for the premature delivery.

“You need to stay strong,” one of the nurses urges, trying to guide you through the pain.

Charles, pale and shaking, holds your hand so tightly it’s almost painful. “Stay with me,” he pleads, his voice breaking. “You and our baby, both of you, stay with me. Please.”

The labor is grueling, each passing minute a test of your willpower and strength. Charles is crumbling into pieces beside you, every ounce of his pain clearly written across his face.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispers, leaning close. “Not now, not ever.”

But the world around you is fading, the pain becoming too much to bear. “I love you so much. In this life and the next,” you choke out with the last of your strength as your vision tunnels.

Suddenly, alarms blare. The room becomes a whirlwind of organized chaos. “We’re losing her!” A doctor shouts.

Charles is pushed aside as they work to save you. “No! Please, no!” He screams in agony.

You’re dimly aware of being rushed into another room, doctors shouting orders and starting emergency procedures.

Then, everything goes black.

Charles is left in the corridor. A broken man, waiting for news, praying for a miracle. Hours feel like days, each passing second an eternity.

Finally, a doctor emerges, his scrubs covered in spots of dark blood. “The baby is fine,” he begins, “But your wife ... we had to put her in a coma. The cancer is advanced. We’ll do everything we can but she’s not out of the woods.”

Charles sinks to the floor, tears streaming down his face. “Please, just save her. Please.”

***

“It’s a girl,” a nurse approaches Charles with a small bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket.

Charles, tears still fresh on his face, looks up, momentarily stunned. “A ... a girl?”

The nurse nods, offering the tiny newborn to him. “Would you like to hold her?”

He hesitates, then slowly reaches out, cradling his daughter in his arms. Her small face, a canvas of peace among the chaos, is a stark contrast to the turmoil surrounding them.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispers, tears starting anew. “Just like her mother.”

The nurse smiles gently. “Have you thought of a name?”

Charles nods, “Juliette. After my godfather.”

Gently rocking the infant, he leans down, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Hey, Juliette,” he murmurs. “I’m your papa. Your maman and I have waited so long for you. We love you so much.”

Juliette stirs, her tiny fingers curling around one of Charles’ own.

“I promise,” Charles voice breaks, “to protect you. I will be here for you, always.”

A doctor approaches, clearing his throat. “Mr. Leclerc, your wife’s condition is critical. But she’s a fighter and she has a lot to fight for.”

Charles nods, looking down at Juliette. “She does. We both do.”

Gently rocking your daughter, he loses himself in the rhythm of her soft breaths and the warmth of her tiny body against his chest. It’s an odd feeling — holding the fresh promise of life in his arms while the love of his life hangs in the balance.

***

“We’ve run all possible tests,” the oncologist begins. Charles, clutching a sleeping Juliette to his chest, waits with bated breath. “The cancer has progressed aggressively. To give her a fighting chance, we need to perform a hysterectomy.”

The room grows cold as the gravity of the doctor’s words sinks in. Charles’ voice trembles, “But that means ...”

The doctor nods, voice as gentle as the situation allows. “She won’t be able to bear children again.”

Silence stretches as the weight of the world seems to fall on Charles’ shoulders. He gazes down at Juliette, the embodiment of the dreams and hopes you both had.

“We had plans,” Charles whispers, more to himself. “We wanted more children, a big family.”

The doctor waits. “I understand how hard this is. But without the procedure, her chances ...”

“I know,” Charles cuts him off, voice breaking. “Do it. Do whatever it takes to save her.”

The doctor nods, squeezing Charles’ shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “We’ll do our best.”

As preparations for the surgery commence, Charles sits in the dimly lit waiting area, holding Juliette close. The baby, as if sensing the heavy atmosphere, remains unusually quiet.

“It’s not fair,” Charles’ lips form words meant for the void. “She’s sacrificed so much already. She deserves a world filled with joy and laughter.”

From across the room, a nurse, having overheard, speaks up, “Life has its cruel twists but the love you both share … that’s rare. Hold onto that.”

Charles nods, taking solace in the nurse’s words. Time seems to lose all meaning, each tick of the clock amplifying the uncertainty and fear.

Finally, a surgeon approaches, fatigue evident in her posture even as her face remains carefully professional. “The procedure went as well as could be expected. Your wife is stable for now.”

Relief floods Charles so rapidly that he has to stop himself from falling to the ground as he murmurs a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

But as he sits by your bedside, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the reality of what you had lost sets in. The dreams of a large family, shared laughter, and memories, all stolen by this cruel twist of fate.

***

The world around you is a haze of light and shadow, the sounds a distant echo. Your eyes flutter open and for a moment you’re lost, disoriented, and overwhelmed. Then, you see Charles, his face etched with relief and sorrow, tears glistening in his eyes.

“Welcome back,” he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. “We’ve missed you so much.”

You try to speak but your throat is too parched to make a sound. Charles offers you a sip of water, his hands trembling as he helps you drink.

“What happened?” You finally manage to croak, your eyes darting around the unfamiliar room.

Charles takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “The cancer ... it had advanced. They had to perform a hysterectomy to save you.”

The word hangs in the air, heavy and final. Your abdomen feels sore and you reach down, fingers tracing the bandages. Panic seizes you and the tears pour down without permission as the reality of what’s been taken from you crashes down.

“It’s gone,” you sob. “Our dreams ... our family.”

Charles leans in, tears mingling with yours. “Shh, mon amour. None of this is your fault. We’ll find another way, another path to happiness. We have Juliette and we have each other.”

But the weight of guilt is crushing. “We dreamed of a big family,” you cry, the depth of your loss piercing. “And I’ve taken that away from us.”

He brushes your tears away. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This is not your fault. We’ll make new dreams together, I promise.”

“I just wanted to give you everything,” the grief wracks your body.

“You already have,” Charles insists. “You’ve given me love, you’ve given me our little girl … our Juliette. That’s more than I could ever ask for.”

With great effort, you lift your arms, weak from the ordeal. Charles, understanding your unspoken desire, carefully places Juliette against your chest. You’re too weak to hold her on your own but together, you and Charles support her tiny form.

“Hello, Juliette," you whisper, tears of joy mingling with your earlier tears of grief.

She blinks up at you, her eyes wide and curious. You’ve never felt anything like what fills your heart as you look at the perfect human you both created, the embodiment of love and resilience.

“I love you both so much,” you whisper, heart swelling with a dizzying mix of joy and sorrow.

Charles, his own eyes filled with tears, leans down and kisses both you and Juliette gently. “We have each other and right now that’s all that matters.”

***

“I never imagined it would be like this,” your voice wavers as you lie propped up by pillows in the dimly lit bedroom.

Charles, his fingers intertwined with yours, meets your gaze. “Neither did I.”

The weight of all that’s transpired hangs heavily in the room. The joy of Juliette’s arrival is marred by the pain and loss you both feel.

“I feel ... incomplete,” you admit, tears forming in your eyes. “Like a part of me is missing.”

“I wish I could take away the pain,” Charles responds. “If I could trade places with you, I would in a heartbeat.”

You squeeze his hand. “It’s not your burden to bear. But it’s … hard. I wanted to give Juliette siblings, the big family we always talked about.”

Charles leans in to rest his forehead against yours. “We still have a family. We have each other and we have Juliette. We can still have a full, beautiful life together.”

You sigh, “But do you ever wonder why? Why us?”

He hesitates, searching for words. “Every day. Sometimes, there’s just no answer, only a path forward.”

You curl into him, drawing comfort from his warmth. “What does our path forward look like?”

Charles pulls back, looking deep into your eyes. “It’s filled with love, with hope. We heal together. We face challenges together. And we build a future together. No matter what.”

“I’m scared.”

He brushes away your tears. “So am I. But we have each other and that’s a pretty good place to start if you ask me.”

***

“She smiled, Charles! Did you see that? Juliette smiled!”

Charles rushes over and peers into the crib with gleaming eyes. “There it is! That little grin,” his voice is filled with wonder. “Our little miracle has the most beautiful smile. Just like her mother’s.”

Juliette, seemingly aware of the shared happiness in the room, gurgles softly, her small fingers reaching out to grasp a lock of Charles’ hair.

You watch them, a gentle smile playing on your lips. “She brings us so much joy. It’s amazing.”

Charles nods, his eyes never leaving Juliette’s face. “She’s our light in the darkness.”

Leaning over, you press a soft kiss to Juliette’s forehead. “I’m so thankful for both of you.”

He shifts closer, resting his head against yours. “You know, mon amour, I’ve been thinking ...”

You turn to him, curiosity piqued. “About what?”

He takes a deep breath. “About our dreams. I know it’s not what we originally planned but what if we consider adoption?”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, love and hope blossoming. “Adoption?”

Charles smiles warmly. “Yes. We’ve always dreamed of a big family. And there are so many children out there who need a home, who need love. We can give a child all of that and more.”

Tears well up in your eyes but they’re tears of joy and gratitude. “That’s a beautiful idea.”

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently. “Our love knows no bounds. The path to our dreams may not be as simple as we once imagined but we will get there, one step at a time.”

***

Charles’ phone buzzes with an incoming call in the early hours of the morning. Seeing a familiar name flash across the screen, he answers immediately. “Don Pietro? Is everything okay?”

“Charles, you need to come to Maranello. Both of you. As soon as possible.”

Charles exchanges a puzzled glance with you. “Is something wrong?”

“Just come,” Don Pietro insists, “and bring your wife. I believe there is a miracle waiting for you.”

The drive to Maranello is filled with anticipation. Your mind races with possibilities, questions whirling in a tornado of confusion and hope.

Upon arriving at the church, you’re met with the sight of the elderly priest holding a tiny bundle. The baby, with soft tufts of hair and eyes wide with curiosity, looks up at the two of you.

“This,” Don Pietro begins, “is Enzo. He was left on the steps of our church last night. And the moment I held him, I thought of you two.”

Charles’ eyes widen. “Enzo ... like Ferrari?”

Don Pietro nods with a soft chuckle, “It’s as if the universe is trying to tell us something.”

You reach out, taking the infant into your arms. Enzo’s little hand wraps around your finger, his eyes meeting yours. The connection is instant, like two souls recognizing each other.

Charles’ voice is thick with emotion, “It’s as if he was meant to be with us. A sign, maybe?”

Don Pietro smiles warmly, “Perhaps a nudge from above, reminding us that miracles happen when we least expect them.”

Tears spring to your eyes, the weight of the moment overwhelming you. Charles is equally moved, his eyes glistening and lips trembling.

“We talked about adoption,” he murmurs. “But this ... this feels like fate.”

Don Pietro nods. “He needs a family, love, and a home. And I believe you two can give him that.”

As Charles takes Enzo from your arms and cradles him close, a bond that goes beyond words quickly forms. You lean in, touching Enzo’s chubby cheek, your heart swelling with love.

The moment feels destined — a new piece seamlessly fitting into the puzzle of your family.

***

“Look at that, Julie and Enny! Those cars go vroom vroom,” you point out with a smile playing on your lips as the roar of engines fills the air.

Juliette’s eyes widen in awe, her tiny hand pointing excitedly. Beside her, Enzo claps his hands, giggling. “Vroom!” He mimics.

Charles, his racing suit on, kneels to their level. “Would you like to see papa’s car up close?”

Both children nod eagerly, their eyes sparkling.

As you make your way through the paddock, team members and other drivers stop to meet the kids. “Look at these future champions!” Exclaims one of the engineers, ruffling Enzo’s hair.

Juliette, ever the social butterfly, giggles and offers a shy “Hello.”

Reaching the Ferrari garage, the team breaks into smiles. “Looks like Charles brought his lucky charms today,” someone comments, causing a round of chuckles.

“Ready for a photo op?” Charles grins, lifting Juliette into the driver's seat as you follow suit with Enzo, placing him right beside his sister.

They look so small in the cockpit, faces full of wonder. “Beep beep,” Juliette laughs, pretending to steer.

“Future Ferrari driver right here,” Charles beams.

As the team gathers around, cameras flashing, you take a moment to soak it all in. The laughter, the joy, the memories — this is what life is about.

“There were times I thought this day would never come,” Charles whispers to you, his arm wrapping around your waist. “Our family here, all together.”

You squeeze his hand, tears of happiness threatening to spill over. “Our dream is now … and it’s only just beginning.”

***

“Henri and Helaine, look it’s your sister!” You cheer, pointing to the massive screen as Juliette’s Ferrari speeds past, making your young twins cheer and clap clumsily in excitement.

Charles grins as an orange blur follows shortly, “And Enzo’s not far behind. What a race!”

The atmosphere in the paddock is electric. Red for Ferrari, orange for McLaren, the colors of a family divided by teams but united by love.

Suddenly, a microphone appears as a familiar reporter approaches. “A quick word for the fans? It must be a thrilling day for the Leclerc family!”

Charles grins, adjusting his half-Ferrari, half-McLaren cap. “Oh, absolutely! We couldn’t be any prouder. A bit of sibling rivalry never hurt anyone, right?”

You laugh, nodding in agreement. “We’ve always said, as long as they’re safe and enjoying themselves, that’s what matters. Though,” you add with a playful wink, “I always wear both colors, just in case!”

The reporter chuckles. “And the young ones? Future racers in the making?”

Henri, with all the innocence of childhood, pipes up, “I wanna go vroom too!”

Helaine nods rapidly. “Me too! Super duper fast.”

You and Charles exchange a glance in amusement. “Well, there you have it,” Charles says with a smile. “Looks like the tracks will be seeing Leclercs for many years to come.”

The race ends with both Juliette and Enzo clinching a podium finish. The celebrations are loud and filled with joy, but for you, true happiness is seeing your family — past, present, and future — come together just like you always dreamed.

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sundazesun · 2 months

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"I’M SICK TO DEATH OF HEARING OF HOW everything fucking hurts trans people’s feelings & how I’m obliged to erase myself & my reality, constantly police my speech & have it policed for me, & walk on eggshells to center their narcissistic fragility.

I’m sick to death hearing that trans people are the most oppressed people in the entire world. Affluent, western white men in their 30s, 40s, 50s wearing dresses are not fucking oppressed AT ALL, let alone more than poor black & brown girls in the developing world.

I’m sick to death hearing that TW being told they can’t get their dicks out in places where women & girls are vulnerable is denying them rights & the worst possible hardship any human has ever faced. If that’s the worst you ever face you are privileged, not oppressed.

I’m sick to death of women being asked to prove that vast numbers of us are in peril of brutal rape & death for our objections to sharing private spaces with males to be considered valid, & anything short of that being seen as an acceptable price to validate.

I’m sick to death of hearing that TWAW even if they take no hormones, have no surgery, see no doctors, get no diagnosis, experience no dysphoria, & keep their beards, but when we ask questions suddenly all the TW will kill themselves from triggered dysphoria.

I’m sick to death hearing that women talking about surviving male violence are “weaponizing their trauma” against trans people when the entire trans movement is founded on the weaponized trauma of their (supposed) dysphoria & emotional blackmail.

I’m sick to death of hearing “no one’s saying sex isn’t real” & “sex & gender are different” while being told there’s no such thing as a biological female, women have dicks, males have periods & get cervical cancer, a clitoris is just a small penis.

I’m sick to death of hearing how hard it is to be trans when every politician, mainstream media outlet, corporation, charity, & celebrity is in the thrall of trans ideology while women who say humans can’t change sex are vilified, doxxed, fired, & otherwise cancelled.

I’m sick to death of hearing that endometriosis, menstruation, miscarriage, abortion, street harassment, sexual objectification, & unpaid domestic labor are examples of “cis privilege.”

I’m sick to death of being told that women & girls who dare to set boundaries are hateful bigots; that men are entitled to decide whether our boundaries are justified & whether they will be granted; & that straight dysphoric men are entitled to sex from lesbians.

I’m sick to death of white people with BLM in their bios saying women who say humans can’t change sex are the same as nazis and white supremacists while also saying that black women are indistinguishable from dysphoric men.

I’m sick to death of being told that “humans can’t change sex” is the epitome of violent hatred but “choke on my fat ladycock, t*rf cunt,” “kill t*rfs,” “t*rfs get raped with my barbed wire-wrapped baseball bat” are considered justifiable, if not downright righteous.

I’m sick to death of hearing that injured male pride is a catastrophic violation of human rights that must be avoided at all costs, up to and including the sacrifice of female bodies—but female rights & trauma are at best irrelevant. Sick. To. Fucking. Death."

@feminist_rachel on twitter

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justforbooks · 3 months

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It did not seem like a good thing when a precious consignment of human tumour samples on its way from Kampala, Uganda, to Heathrow was diverted to Manchester. When the samples finally arrived at the Middlesex hospital in London, they were swimming in murky fluid in their vials as though they had been infected with bacteria.

But when the pathologist Anthony Epstein looked at the fluid under the microscope he saw no bacteria, just individual cells that had been shaken loose from the tumours. And that was just what he needed in order to search for elusive virus particles and test his hunch that they were causing cancer.

In the early 1960s Epstein, who has died aged 102, had heard a lecture by Denis Burkitt, an Irish surgeon working in Kampala, that described strange tumours (now known as Burkitt lymphoma) growing around the jaws of children in equatorial Africa.

Intriguingly, the geographical distribution of the condition seemed to depend on temperature and rainfall, suggesting a biological cause. Epstein, who had been working with viruses that cause cancer in chickens, immediately suspected a virus might be involved, perhaps in association with another tropical disease such as malaria.

Epstein began to collaborate with Burkitt, who supplied him with tumours from children he had treated. But Epstein’s efforts to grow pieces of tumour in the laboratory and isolate a virus had all been unsuccessful until the dissociated cells arrived.

With his graduate student Yvonne Barr, he then decided to look at cultures of these cells in an electron microscope, a powerful instrument that had only recently become available in his lab.

The very first image showed a tell-tale outline that looked like one of the family of herpes viruses. It turned out to be a previously undescribed member of that family, and was given the name Epstein-Barr virus. In 1964, Epstein, Barr and Epstein’s research assistant, Bert Achong, published the first evidence that cancer in humans could be caused by a virus – to be greeted by widespread scepticism even though they went on to demonstrate that EB virus caused tumours in monkeys.

Thanks to samples supplied by Epstein, in 1970 Werner and Gertrude Henle at the Children’s hospital in Philadelphia discovered that EB virus also caused glandular fever. That made it possible to design a test for antibodies to the virus in order to confirm a diagnosis. EB virus turned out to be very common, infecting most children in early life, though it usually causes glandular fever only in older teenagers and young adults. As well as causing Burkitt lymphoma in endemic areas in Africa and Papua New Guinea, it is also associated with a cancer of the nose and throat that is the most common cancer of men in south China, as well as cancers in people whose immune systems have been compromised, such as those infected with HIV.

More recent research suggests that EB virus might also be involved in some cases of multiple sclerosis, and that people who have previously had glandular fever are more susceptible to severe Covid-19.

After the discovery, Epstein and others devoted time and effort to trying to find out under what circumstances EB virus causes cancer. The relationship between the virus, other diseases, human genetics and cancer is complex, and it took decades before the medical community could accept the EB virus as a cause with confidence.

Not until 1997 did the International Agency for Research on Cancer class it as a Group 1 carcinogen, formally acknowledging its role in a variety of cancers.

The discovery of EB virus opened up a whole new field of research into cancer-causing viruses. It also raised the exciting possibility of preventing cancers through vaccination, an advance that has now been achieved in the case of human papilloma virus, which causes cervical cancer, and hepatitis B virus, which causes liver cancer.

By the time of his retirement in 1985, Epstein’s research group at the University of Bristol had developed a candidate vaccine that protected monkeys infected with EB virus against tumours, but neither it nor any other candidate has yet been successfully developed for human use.

Epstein was born in London, one of three children of Olga (nee Oppenheimer) and Mortimer Epstein. Mortimer was a writer and translator who edited The Statesman’s Yearbook for Macmillan from 1924 until his death in 1946. Olga was involved with charitable work in the Jewish community. Anthony attended St Paul’s school in west London, where the biology teacher Sidney Pask encouraged boys to go far beyond the syllabus and whose pupils also included Robert Winston and Jonathan Miller.

Epstein won a place to study medicine at Trinity College, Cambridge. He moved to Middlesex hospital medical school in wartime London to complete his training, before doing his national service in India with the Royal Army Medical Corps. He returned to work at the Middlesex hospital as assistant pathologist, conducting his own research. Thinking electron microscopy might be useful in his studies of cancer-causing viruses in chickens, he spent some time learning the new technique at the Rockefeller Institute in New York (now Rockefeller University). Not long afterwards he attended Burkitt’s lecture and began the serendipitous route to his discovery.

In 1968 he was appointed professor and head of the department of pathology at the University of Bristol, where he remained until his retirement. He moved to Oxford as a fellow of Wolfson College in 1986, becoming an honorary fellow in 2001.

An exemplary scientific good citizen, he served as foreign secretary and vice-president of the Royal Society, and sat on boards and councils for numerous national and international research organisations, including as a special representative of the director general of Unesco; he was also a patron of Humanists UK. Among his many prizes and honorary degrees, he received the international Gairdner award for biomedical research in 1988. He was appointed CBE in 1985 and knighted in 1991.

“It was a series of accidents, really,” he said of his discovery in a conversation with Burkitt they recorded for Oxford Brookes University’s oral history archive in 1991. “Lucky quirks.” Burkitt immediately responded with Louis Pasteur’s aphorism: “Chance favours the prepared mind.”

Epstein was a deeply cultured man who retained a lively interest in many subjects – particularly oriental rugs, Tibet and amphibians – until the end of his life.

He is survived by his partner, Kate Ward, by his children Susan, Simon and Michael, from his marriage to Lisbeth Knight, from whom he was separated in 1965, and who died in 2015, and by two grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

🔔Michael Anthony Epstein, pathologist, born 18 May 1921; died 6 February 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #Anthony Epstein #in memoriam

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theirlives · 4 months

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this is your sunday reminder to always, always book your routine pap smear if you're due. ya girl is finally hpv negative after being positive and high-risk of cervical cancer for six years because of it. getting tested annually has been uncomfy and nerve-wrecking, but it's also meant any time i had abnormal cells, they were tested immediately. thankfully, none ever went cancerous and i am now officially back to three year routines due to the virus clearing itself. i've also been bumped back down to low risk. these aren't fun, but they're super important. and don't ever be ashamed of your diagnosis! it's also always worth checking with your doctor if you're eligible for the hpv vaccine if you weren't offered it as a kid.

#out of character. ⸻ hope speaks.#tw personal #tw cervical cancer #it might be tmi and non rp related #bt the message is IMPORTANT n ill spread it anywhere i can <3

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someone-will-remember-us · 8 months

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Women are dying of cancer because of sexism in healthcare, a report in The Lancet has suggested. The analysis says that “unconscious gender bias” and discrimination means that women are too often receiving “sub-optimal care”, with major cancers being missed. Researchers said that a focus on reproductive and maternal health, and on “women’s cancers” – such as breast and cervical cancer – too often meant prevention and treatment of other types of cancer was neglected. Two thirds of deaths from cancer in patients below the age of 50 are those of women, researchers said, with many dying “in the prime of their life”. The Lancet commission, called Women, Power and Cancer, calls for a “feminist” approach to medicine, saying that 1.5 million lives a year could be saved by better detection, diagnosis and elimination of risk factors. A study published alongside the piece found that 24,000 women between 30 and 69 die every year from cancers that could be avoided. Six in 10 could be prevented by earlier diagnosis or improved lifestyles, while four in 10 could be avoided by better access to good treatment. The commission brought together scholars of gender studies, human rights, law, economics, social sciences, cancer epidemiology, prevention and treatment, as well as patient advocates. Too little focus on risk factors Dr Isabelle Soerjomataram, from the International Agency for Research on Cancer, said: “Discussion about cancer in women often focus on ‘women’s cancers’, such as breast and cervical cancer, but about 300,000 women under 70 die each year from lung cancer, and 160,000 from colorectal cancer – two of the top three causes of cancer death among women, globally. Furthermore, for the past few decades in many high-income countries, deaths from lung cancer in women have been higher than deaths from breast cancer.” She added that there was a need for policies to increase awareness of such risks. The report said that too little focus was given to alerting women to the risk factors for cancer. It cited a study that found only 19 per cent of women who attended a breast cancer screening knew that alcohol was a major risk factor. Researchers also said that women were often served worse than men, even after diagnosis. The authors said: “Sexism within healthcare systems in the form of unconscious gender biases and discrimination can lead to women receiving sub-optimal care. For example, multiple studies have found women with cancer are more likely to report inadequate pain relief and be at greater risk for undertreatment of pain compared to men.” Dr Ophira Ginsburg, the senior adviser for clinical research at the National Cancer Institute’s Centre for Global Health and co-chair of the commission, said: “The impact of a patriarchal society on women’s experiences of cancer has gone largely unrecognised. Globally, women’s health is often focused on reproductive and maternal health, aligned with narrow anti-feminist definitions of women’s value and roles in society, while cancer remains wholly under-represented.” She added: “Our commission highlights that gender inequalities significantly impact women’s experiences with cancer. “To address this, we need cancer to be seen as a priority issue in women’s health, and call for the immediate introduction of a feminist approach to cancer.”

(archive)

#medical misogyny #medicine #health #article #misogyny

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ganitsoni · 2 months

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