Support for LateToSchool

epistrophy · August 9, 2008, 6:42pm

a genetic dimension to nicotine addiction?

“Gene hooks smokers at first puff”

Puffing on a first cigarette is a rite of passage for many teenagers, but whether it is enjoyable may be partly down to genetics, researchers suggest.

University of Michigan scientists have identified a gene variant found more often in people who said their first cigarette produced a “buzz”.

These people were much more likely to go on to become regular smokers, the journal Addiction reports.

The researchers say the finding may help development of anti-smoking drugs.

A person’s decision to smoke for the first time, or carry on smoking, is not thought to be governed solely by his or her genes, but a mixture of genes, environmental factors and social pressures.

However, scientists are hoping that by cracking the genetic secrets of nicotine addiction, they could make it easier for people to wean themselves off cigarettes, or even stop them taking up the habit in the first place.

The gene in question, CHRNA5, has already been highlighted by other studies into nicotine addiction, and it has been suggested that it could increase a smoker’s chance of developing lung cancer.

The Michigan research, however, suggests that it could be at work from the very first instance of exposure to nicotine.

Genetic data was obtained from 435 volunteers, some of whom were regular smokers, and some who had tried cigarettes but were not currently smokers.

They were quizzed about how they felt about their first smoking experience.

Practical uses

Regular smokers were far more likely to have the variant version of the gene and more likely to report that their first smoking experience was pleasurable.

Professor Ovide Pomerleau, who led the research, said: "It appears that for people who have a certain genetic make-up, the initial physical reaction to smoking can play a significant role in determining what happens next.

“If cigarette smoking is sustained, nicotine addiction can occur in a few days to a few months - the finding of a genetic association with pleasurable early smoking experiences may help explain how people get addicted.”

Dr Marcus Munafo, from Bristol University, said that while the study was interesting, any treatments or tests based on the gene variant would be some way off.

He said: “It’s interesting to see research which helps us join the dots on the whole mechanism of nicotine addiction, but in practical terms, we have, for now, to carry on doing what we are currently doing to help smokers.”

[BBC</a> NEWS | Health | Gene hooks smokers at first puff](<a href=“http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/7548878.stm]BBC”>BBC NEWS | Health | Gene hooks smokers at first puff)

epistrophy · August 10, 2008, 7:51am

living with lung cancer

“On rare cancer, Children’s builds rare expertise
Doctors keep global registry to speed care, advise others on diagnosis”

The tears and “why me” feelings come quickly for Kim Minks, whose 11-month-old, Tony, suffers from a rare childhood lung cancer that is diagnosed only 20 times a year in the United States.

Medical bills are piling up, Tony has months of chemotherapy ahead, and even if all goes well doctors won’t declare him in remission until his fifth birthday. But Minks counts her blessings. Her blue-eyed boy remains strong and bubbly, and her family lives near the world’s top experts in this cancer, called pleuropulmonary blastoma, or PPB.

“We are very lucky,” said Minks, of Rosemount.

While Children’s Hospitals and Clinics of Minnesota has treated only a half-dozen children with PPB, its doctors have created a global database of cases that gives them a unique understanding of the cancer and a better chance at helping the Tonys of the world.

Among other things, the International PPB Registry proved that the cancer is genetic and pinpointed its symptoms in a way that has reduced misdiagnosis.

“Any oncologist in their right mind would contact us” about a PPB case, said Dr. Jack Priest, a retired oncologist who directs the registry’s research. “We can help them so much.”

This weekend is something of a milestone for the Children’s PPB program. An annual tennis tournament fundraiser that pays for the registry is taking place. Families of more than 30 people with PPB are coming from around the world to support one another and learn more about this mysterious cancer.

Priest said the registry’s usefulness has increased in the past two years. He spent years rounding up the medical and family histories of the 260 PPB cases that make the registry a reliable tool for research.

Now, instead of hunting for cases, Priest and other Children’s experts provide “real-time consultations” to doctors at other hospitals who suspect their patients have PPB. The Children’s doctors work closely with pathologists in St. Louis who have become experts at identifying PPB from tissue samples.

A sign of progress is that 32 percent of such cases are now diagnosed in the earliest and most treatable stage. Previously, just 16 percent of children with PPB were diagnosed that early.

Children’s has also overturned several incorrect diagnoses of PPB in some cases sparing children with benign conditions the harsh chemotherapy, said Dr. Yoav Messinger, a pediatric oncologist at Children’s.

Tony’s cancer was first viewed as a cyst that surgeons removed from one of his lungs. A lab test found the cyst was cancerous, and the Children’s doctors verified his PPB.

Messinger said the discoveries through the registry have given Tony a better chance.

First, the registry has gained local and national attention, so Tony’s surgeon knew right away to call and inquire about the possibility of PPB. Second, a key study used the registry to prove the cancer returns less often when children undergo chemotherapy after surgery.

That statistical finding was important to Minks and her husband. They initially struggled over whether to subject their toddler to chemotherapy though the decision became easier when a new cyst was discovered in Tony’s lungs.

Minks said this weekend’s gathering of PPB families will give her hope. She has already reached out to many of them through e-mail and phone calls gaining strength from their survival stories.

Accepting that her son had cancer took months, she said. Tony’s thinning hair and weekly chemo are constant reminders, but otherwise it’s hard to tell from the outside that he is sick. At a recent visit to Children’s, Tony crawled all over a table, grabbing toys, glasses, pens and anything else within his grasp.

His personality has helped mommy cope.

“You look at him,” she said, “and he just instantly makes you happy, even through all of this.”

[On</a> rare cancer, Children’s builds rare expertise - TwinCities.com](<a href=“On rare cancer, Children’s builds rare expertise – Twin Cities”>On rare cancer, Children’s builds rare expertise – Twin Cities)

jym626 · August 10, 2008, 8:40am

Has anyone posted this? If you click onthe link you’ll see the chest xray from 10 years ago when she was given 6 months to live
[FresnoBee.com:</a> National Wire: Hawaii teacher’s cure clears way for a new saint](<a href=“http://www.fresnobee.com/641/story/786273.html]FresnoBee.com:”>http://www.fresnobee.com/641/story/786273.html)

Hawaii teacher’s cure clears way for a new saintBy JAYMES SONG08/09/08 12:41:30When cancer spread into her lungs, doctors told Audrey Toguchi she had six months to live, at best, and suggested chemotherapy as the only option.
Toguchi, however, turned to another source - a Catholic missionary who died more than a century ago.

“I’m going to Molokai to pray to Father Damien,” Toguchi calmly told Dr. Walter Y.M. Chang after hearing her death sentence.

“Mrs. Toguchi, prayers are nice and it’s probably very helpful, but you still need chemotherapy,” replied Chang, who earlier had removed a fist-size tumor from Toguchi’s left buttock that was the source of the cancer in her lungs.

Defying Chang and the pleas of her husband and two sons, Toguchi caught a flight from Honolulu to the remote peninsula of Kalaupapa on the island of Molokai to pray at the grave of the priest who had ministered to people with leprosy until he, too, caught it and died in 1889.

“Dear Lord, you’re the one who created my body, so I know you can fix it,” Toguchi prayed. “I put my whole faith in you. … Father Damien, please pray for me, too, because I need your help.”

On a doctor’s visit on Oct. 2, 1998, a month after cancer was first detected in her lungs, doctors expected the tumors to have grown. Instead, they had shrunk, and by May 1999 tests confirmed that they had disappeared without treatment.

Chang and a half-dozen other doctors, including a cardiologist, oncologist, pathologist and radiologist, couldn’t explain it. Chang, who does not belong to any religion, urged Toguchi to report it to the Catholic church.

The Vatican conducted an extensive review and concluded Toguchi’s recovery defied medical explanation.

On July 3, Pope Benedict XVI agreed and approved the case as Damien’s second miracle, opening the way for the Belgian priest to be declared a saint.

The Vatican requires confirmation of two miracles attributed to a candidate’s intercession before canonization, or sainthood.

Church authorities approved Damien’s first miracle in 1992. In that case, Sister Simplicia Hue of France, who was dying of a gastrointestinal illness, recovered overnight in 1895 after she began a novena, or nine days of prayer, to Damien.

Toguchi’s story, and identity, were kept secret for years while the church investigated her case. Today, the 80-year-old retired schoolteacher talks openly of her experience.

She and her husband of 50 years, Yukio, live in the hills above Pearl Harbor, just up the road from Aiea High School, where she taught social studies.

Toguchi is a deeply religious and kind woman who is generous with hugs and smiles to everyone she meets. As a teacher, she often told students how special they were and earned the nickname “Ma” for her nurturing ways. Since retiring in 1995, much of her time now goes to her garden.

Toguchi doesn’t care for the title “miracle woman,” as some have called her.

“I’m just a regular Joe Blow. You can tell,” she said. “I still don’t know why this happened to me.”

Chang says Toguchi’s chances of survival at the time of his diagnosis were zero, even if she had agreed to chemotherapy.

“It may have delayed her eventual demise, probably slow (the cancer) down, but eventually, she would have succumbed to this vicious cancer,” said Chang, who retired in 2004.

Toguchi had been diagnosed in December 1997 with liposarcoma, an uncommon tumor that arises in deep fat tissue - in this case, her buttock. She had several operations followed by radiation. A month later, doctors found and removed an unrelated cancer in her thyroid gland.

In September 1998, an X-ray showed three growths in her lungs. A needle biopsy of one showed it was consistent with the liposarcoma found in her left buttock. Follow-up X-rays showed the growths were shrinking on their own.

Dr. Richard Schilsky, a University of Chicago cancer specialist who is president of the American Society of Clinical Oncology, said it’s “highly likely” that the lung had already been seeded with liposarcoma cells when her original tumor was found.

Schilsky said it isn’t clear that all three lung growths were cancer, since only one was biopsied. And there are several reasons people get small inflammatory nodules in the lungs that might resolve spontaneously.

“The point here is that the primary tumor was treated,” and that could have helped her immune system control any remaining cancer in her body, said Schilsky, who did not treat Toguchi. He based his comments on Chang’s case report in the October 2000 edition of the Hawaii Medical Journal.

Rare cases of spontaneous remission, or regression, are reported, mostly involving melanoma skin cancer, kidney cancer or lymphoma - hardly ever solid tumors like breast, prostate or colon cancers, Schilsky said.

“The bottom line is, it probably does happen. Obviously, it happens very rarely because it is the nature of cancer to grow, not to regress,” he said.

Chang agrees that “no one truly knows” why some cancers disappear.

“For the true believer or faithful, this is a miracle. For the true skeptic, this is a random or very unusual coincidence. For the doctor and scientist, we call it complete spontaneous regression of cancer.”

Toguchi believes it was Damien and looks forward to the day when the priest is canonized, which is expected early next year. She plans to go to Rome for the ceremony.

Damien, born Joseph de Veuster, arrived in the islands in 1864. Nine years later he began ministering to leprosy patients on Molokai, where some thousands had been banished amid an epidemic in Hawaii in the 1850s. After contracting the disease, also known as Hansen’s disease, he died on April 15, 1889, at 49.

His remains were moved to Belgium in 1936. A relic of his right hand was returned to his original grave on Molokai after he was beatified by Pope John Paul II in 1995.

His life and work have inspired many, from Mother Teresa, who lobbied for Damien’s sainthood, to Mahatma Gandhi.

Toguchi returned to Damien’s grave after the cancer disappeared. This time, she took her husband, Yukio, who comes from a Buddhist family and attended Methodist church growing up on the sugar plantations of Maui.

“I’m not the praying type but I just wanted to say ‘Thank you,’” he said. Every day is a blessing to him now, he said.

Audrey Toguchi still prays often to Damien, asking him to help others.

epistrophy · August 10, 2008, 5:26pm

From ADad (4026, 4031):

–Wallace Stevens

<hr>

If you’re in the mood for an utterly enthralling, inspiring, and delightful interview with a cancer “survivor” (not sure what kind) who, at 90, exhibits more genuine liveliness - curiosity, fascination, empathy, etc. - than most 20-year-olds, go here and listen to the interview with Vivian Cherry, street photographer (whose first book, consisting of photos taken in New York City during the 1940’s and 50’s, was just published), one-time dancer (until she was sidelined by a knee injury), budding “composer” (using GarageBand on her recently acquired Mac), etc., etc., etc., which I just happened to catch earlier today on my local NPR station while driving here and there:

[The</a> Bob Edwards Show/Bob Edwards Weekend Discussion Forum :: View topic - Bob Edwards Weekend:Philippe Petit & James Marsh, Vivian Ch](<a href=“http://www.bobedwards.info/ftopic771.html]The”>http://www.bobedwards.info/ftopic771.html)

(And here’s a newspaper article about her:
[A</a> New York street photographer keeps on clicking | csmonitor.com](<a href=“http://www.csmonitor.com/2008/0326/p20s01-ussc.html]A”>A New York street photographer keeps on clicking - CSMonitor.com))

epistrophy · August 11, 2008, 9:08am

another new LTS supporter

Following up on this last post, this radio interview with Vivian Cherry moved me so much that, later in the day, after coming upon her website, I sent her an email:

Dear Ms. Cherry,

 

While driving here and there earlier today, I
happened to hear your interview with Bob Edwards on
our local NPR station. I can’t recall ever hearing a
radio interview that I found more delightful or
inspiring. In fact, I was so touched by it that I
posted a short blurb about it, as well as a link to
it, on an on-line discussion board that I
participate in from time to time (on a thread that,
as it happens, concerns a board member who was
recently diagnosed with lung cancer):

<a href=“http://talk.collegeconfidential.com/parent-cafe/397947-support-latetoschool-282.html[/url]”>http://talk.collegeconfidential.com/parent-cafe/397947-support-latetoschool-282.html</a>
(post 4226).

All best (this year, and next, and the year after
that, and . . .),

 

[name]

Then this morning, I heard back from her:

binx · August 11, 2008, 10:57am

How nice. 90 years old, still active, and “fluent” in email! And also something fitting about thinking of LTS as a “board member.” Haven’t heard from you, LTS, for a couple days - wondering how you are doing, and if you are still in the hospital?

marite · August 11, 2008, 11:20am

Epistrophy, thanks for contacting Vivian Cherry and posting your exchange. I hope it lifts LTS’ spirits! Thinking of you, LTS.

mommusic · August 11, 2008, 11:42am

Hope you had a lovely weekend, LTS!

Here in the Midwest the heat wave broke and we are having September-like cool weather, no humidity, and the bluest sky I’ve ever seen in August. I hope it is the same where you are!

(sings) “Nothing but blue skies, from now on…” :)

soozievt · August 11, 2008, 12:20pm

Thinking of you again today, LTS and can’t wait to hear an update. I hope things are going better!

epistrophy · August 11, 2008, 3:59pm

–Emily Dickinson (in a letter)

<hr>

And one from ADad (4026, 4031):

–Mary Ann Radmacher

padad · August 11, 2008, 4:21pm

Nasim Hikmet, spent most of his adult life in prison (political prisoner) or in exile. Here is a poem written when he was fifty and in prison.

On Living

I

Living is no laughing matter:
you must live with great seriousness
like a squirrel, for example–
I mean without looking for something beyond and above living,
I mean living must be your whole occupation.
Living is no laughing matter:
you must take it seriously,
so much so and to such a degree
that, for example, your hands tied behind your back,
your back to the wall,
or else in a laboratory
in your white coat and safety glasses,
you can die for people–
even for people whose faces you’ve never seen,
even though you know living
is the most real, the most beautiful thing.
I mean, you must take living so seriously
that even at seventy, for example, you’ll plant olive trees–
and not for your children, either,
but because although you fear death you don’t believe it,
because living, I mean, weighs heavier.

II

Let’s say you’re seriously ill, need surgery–
which is to say we might not get
from the white table.
Even though it’s impossible not to feel sad
about going a little too soon,
we’ll still laugh at the jokes being told,
we’ll look out the window to see it’s raining,
or still wait anxiously
for the latest newscast …
Let’s say we’re at the front–
for something worth fighting for, say.
There, in the first offensive, on that very day,
we might fall on our face, dead.
We’ll know this with a curious anger,
but we’ll still worry ourselves to death
about the outcome of the war, which could last years.
Let’s say we’re in prison
and close to fifty,
and we have eighteen more years, say,
before the iron doors will open.
We’ll still live with the outside,
with its people and animals, struggle and wind–
I mean with the outside beyond the walls.
I mean, however and wherever we are,
we must live as if we will never die.

III

This earth will grow cold,
a star among stars
and one of the smallest,
a gilded mote on blue velvet–
I mean this, our great earth.
This earth will grow cold one day,
not like a block of ice
or a dead cloud even
but like an empty walnut it will roll along
in pitch-black space …
You must grieve for this right now
–you have to feel this sorrow now–
for the world must be loved this much
if you’re going to say “I lived” …

Trans. by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk (1993)

Nazim Hikmet

LTS, thinking of you with my prayers.

2blue · August 11, 2008, 8:12pm

Keeping you in my thoughts and prayers, LTS.

corranged · August 11, 2008, 8:17pm

Thinking of you, LTS.

epistrophy · August 11, 2008, 9:23pm

and another

“Faith helped Hartman”

Just before Christmas in December 2001, Ann Hartman went to her doctor with pneumonia. Her physician put her on antibiotics, but the pneumonia persisted.

A CAT scan revealed something suspicious and the doctor ordered a biopsy. Even he was surprised to learn the abnormality was lung cancer. Hartman was shocked.

She had never been a smoker, was a high school runner and still in great shape.

Hartman learned her disease is a specific, rare form of lung cancer called bronchioloalveolar carcinoma, or BAC. Like many others diagnosed with cancer, her first thought, was, “I’m in good health, how could this happen to me?”

Doctors removed her right lung’s lower lobe in April 2002. At the time, they believed it was a stage one cancer and that they had removed it all.

“It was a difficult time,” Hartman said. “My family and friends were my rock through it all. My parents watched my kids a great deal for me while I was in recovery and a mother’s support group brought over meals for a month. I do not know how I would have made it through this without them. I ate a lot of their delicious food and even gained weight. So did my family,” she said with a laugh.

In December 2002, Ann returned to the doctor for a routine, follow up CAT scan. The doctors discovered that the cancer had spread to both lungs and told Hartman her cancer was now in stage four.

“That was a bad diagnosis.” Ann remembered. “There is only a 15 percent survival rate of stage four lung cancer from the past five years. All I could think about was what do I do with that statistic and what about my 3- and 5-year-old children? I remember the doctors saying, ‘there is nothing we can do for you.’”

Even with the grim prognosis, Hartman refused to give up. In January 2003, she went to the Mayo Clinic and began the exhausting experience of cancer trials.

The Mayo doctors said there was not much they could do for her and she moved on to Madison, Wisc., where she met Dr. Joan Chiller, a specialist in women’s BAC lung cancer.

By May of that year Hartman started on a new growth inhibitor drug. After a year on the drug and with the cancer still progressing, she headed to Tulane University for another clinical trial. Once the Tulane trial was over and the cancer had not stopped progressing, Hartman took a break from clinical trials and tried drug therapies. Those therapies coupled with another growth inhibitor kept Ann stable for a year.

“It was frustrating,” said Hartman. “Clinical trials are hard because it gets your hopes up then they did not work.”

In 2006, the cancer began spreading again and she decided to begin chemotherapy. That proved successful. The tumors have stabilized and some are shrinking.

One issue Hartman is passionate about is the stigma associated with lung cancer.

“People believe that you deserve the disease because you were obviously a smoker. I have never smoked. Research for lung cancer is very under-resourced and under-funded due to this stigma.”

According to “100 Questions and Answers About Lung Cancer,” only 35 percent of lung cancer patients are current smokers, 10-15 percent have never smoked and 50 percent are former smokers, Hartman added.

She urges anyone facing cancer to go online and check out his or her options.

“Never give up. You have a lot to live for.”

She also believes in the importance of a support system and said she will take calls from cancer victims.

“Call me whenever you need to or when you get frustrated. I want to help anyone I can get through this.”

Through her ordeal, Hartman’s faith in God has been strengthened.

“Without my faith, I would not have maintained my positive attitude; my faith is number one and has only become stronger since the diagnosis.”

Hartman also loves music and teaching. She leads three choirs at St. John’s Lutheran Church and teaches music lessons, which allow more flexibility and time with her children.

“I cherish the moments with the kids.”

After defying the odds, Hartman is currently participating in a Mayo Clinic study that centers on lung cancer patients that have survived long term.

“A big part of it is attitude. I am rare in my survival of BAC lung cancer, and they want to know why. I am resilient to focus on the positives of life and not dwell on the illness. Live your life busier than before. I would like to say that I am cancer free, but I will have to keep looking for clinical trials and continue chemotherapy. For me, stability is good. I will continue treatment because I will see my children graduate.”

[SW</a> Iowa News - Faith helped Hartman](<a href=“http://www.nonpareilonline.com/site/news.cfm?newsid=19903382&BRD=2703&PAG=461&dept_id=555106&rfi=6]SW”>http://www.nonpareilonline.com/site/news.cfm?newsid=19903382&BRD=2703&PAG=461&dept_id=555106&rfi=6)

epistrophy · August 11, 2008, 11:20pm

As an aside, here, if anyone’s interested, is a bit more about cancer “survivor” (and LTS supporter) Vivian Cherry (4226-27):

[powerHouse</a> Books, the future beyond art books](<a href=“http://www.powerhousebooks.com/book/8]powerHouse”>Book Review: A Detroit Nocturne by Dave Jordano - powerHouse Books)

[ART</a> IN REVIEW; Vivian Cherry - New York Times](<a href=“http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9A04E2DF1F3EF935A25755C0A9669C8B63]ART”>http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9A04E2DF1F3EF935A25755C0A9669C8B63)

mythmom · August 12, 2008, 1:50am

LTS: Thinking of you. Keeping you close to my heart.

scualum · August 12, 2008, 1:51am

Sending thoughts and prayers your way LTS

epistrophy · August 12, 2008, 7:46am

and more

“Cancer no laughing matter, unless you’re a comic with it
VETERAN COMEDIAN HOSTS FUNDRAISER”

At 58, Grace White had spent nearly a decade on the road performing “combat comedy” in such outliers of the known comedy constellation as an Idaho Falls roadhouse, grange halls in Montana and at the annual motorcycle rally in Sturgis, S.D., where half-naked people often rushed the stage. “Also completely naked people,” she said recently, clarifying.

White could do stand-up in any situation, no matter how harrowing. When her doctor called last November to tell her that she had inoperable lung cancer, White responded with a joke.

"He said, ‘It’s a really grave situation,’ " White recalled. “I said, ‘That can’t be. I haven’t been to Paris yet.’ Then I told him I would appreciate it if he wouldn’t use the word grave in my diagnosis. So I guess I was making jokes.”

She had been shopping at a Staples when the call came, and suddenly stand-up - both as a career choice and a means to avoid falling down - was no longer an option.

“My legs started to go out from under me, and everything started spinning,” White said. "I started to go over and this lady reached out and caught me. She got me to the doctor’s office, and then she said to me, ‘Just wait here for a minute. Because I’m going to go in and chew your doctor’s ass.’ "

Her performing career ended with the cancer diagnosis, but White has managed to overcome the debilitating effects of her illness to produce a benefit show for the American Lung Association of California at Rooster T. Comedy Club in Sunnyvale Wednesday at 8 p.m. Half a dozen comics from her traveling show, Women Who Kick Comedy Butt, will attempt to raise money - and awareness - for the struggle that White now calls her “life’s work.”

The next doctor she visited following the drive-by diagnosis told White that she had stage-4 lung cancer - the most advanced form - and that she would be dead within three months. That was 10 months ago. “Their way of dealing with me was to give me all kinds of drugs and to let me go,” she said. She lost 30 pounds in three months, before she decided to stop taking most of the drugs. “I was on my way out,” White said, “lying on the couch preparing to die.”

Her daughter, Alyssa Cook, had moved into her mother’s Colfax home in the Sierra foothills to take care of her. “She needed help to do anything,” Cook said, “even to comb her hair and walk to the bathroom.”

After the first few rounds of chemotherapy, there wasn’t much hair left to comb. “I looked like I had mange,” White said. “I saw how upset my daughter was, and heard my grandson say that I was deserting him. So I decided that for as long as I have left, I’m going to be sober, and I’m going to deal with this pain, and I’m going to do the best I can every day.”

She stopped the chemo treatments, shaved her head and commenced her comeback. "When my daughter asked me how I was, I would say, ‘I feel great today!’ Well, not really. But the mind is so powerful. I feel like, ‘I am not going now. I am not going to be that sick now.’ "

A big part of what keeps White going is her determination to shed light on how under-funded lung cancer research is in this country. While breast cancer received $971 million in government research funds in 2007, lung cancer received only $226 million, even though lung cancer has a much higher mortality rate, according to the Lung Cancer Alliance.

Lung cancer stigma

“Lung cancer has a very big stigma,” White said. “Like, if you have it, you deserve it.” At one of several fundraisers conducted for White by fellow comedians when she was without an income following her diagnosis, a woman approached her with a donation. "She held the money out, then pulled it back and asked me, ‘Did you smoke?’ " White recalled.

The answer, in fact, is no. White was not a smoker. But 15 percent of new lung cancer cases afflict non-smokers, according to Cancer Alliance statistics, and more than 60 percent of new cases involve either non-smokers or smokers who had already quit.

On White’s MySpace page, she refers to herself as a “Stage 4 Cancer Comedian.” You may have to have handled naked hecklers with saddle rashes to see the humor in that.

<a href=“Cancer no laughing matter, unless you’re a comic with it – The Mercury News”>Cancer no laughing matter, unless you’re a comic with it – The Mercury News;

<hr>

**"Needle and thread handed down to a new generation

Morristown’s Tailor Shop gets new owners"**

Only in America, where dreams can be realized, would two retiring clothing tailors reward the assistants who have faithfully supported them for many years by turning the business over to them.

Joe Margiotta (“Popa Joe” as he is known to intimates) and Roy Marques, tailors and owners of The Tailor Shop in Morristown, did just that recently. The two men, who began the business in 1990, recently transferred ownership of the business into the capable hands of Alba Medina, principal owner, and Gladis Rameriz.

The two business partners thought about selling the business but according to Margiotta, “It would have shut the girls out and we didn’t want that.”

Margiotta, at 84, feels his health is motivating his retirement but said he will still go into the shop for a few hours every day to see if he can be of help to the ladies.

“It will give me someplace to go every day, although, I won’t be in here at 8 a.m.,” he said. “Besides, it will keep me from getting underfoot at home with my wife, Anne.”

Taking in the sun

Marques, at 68, will be around the area part of the time, but most of the time he will be in sunny Apollo Beach, Fla., his new permanent residence, enjoying his retirement with his wife, Maria.

Margiotta and Marques met while both worked at Salny Brothers (a popular Morristown men’s clothing store that closed its doors in December 1989), formerly located in the building on the corner of Market Street opposite the old Epstein’s building on the Green.

Margiotta had been with Salny’s for 32 years doing alterations, and Marques for 22 years. They combined their talents and many years of expertise and opened The Tailor Shop, briefly located in the building next to the current Dunkin’ Donuts.

Business took off immediately and Marques hired two men to help with the tailoring needs of the business.

Margiotta gave credit for their success to Marques.

“Roy is a hard worker. He has been so reliable and dependable. I was responsible for coming up with new business, but he worked hard turning out quality work in the shop.”

In 1993 they bought the building at 20 Morris St. As the business has grown, so has the number of employees. They now have six people doing alterations.

Marques, who grew up in Portugal, learned the trade working after school in a tailor shop as a small boy of 8 years old. He emigrated to the United States in 1962, after he married, so that his wife, Maria, could be nearer her family. Thus he began his American dream. Living in Harrison, he and his wife raised two daughters, Diane and Nancy, while he developed his career as a tailor.

Margiotta, a graduate of Morristown High School, class of 1941, joined the service during World War II. He was involved in operations in Germany and Austria. In the tradition of the patriotism of his generation, he was there fighting to preserve freedom for all people and the American dream.

He began his career at H&J Mintz, another Morristown menswear store, doing alterations from 1946 to 1952. From 1952 to 1961 he owned his own cleaning shop, formerly located on Speedwell Avenue.

Margiotta and his wife, Anne, lifelong residents of Morristown, raised three sons, Joe Jr., Arthur and Donald.

**Cancer survivor

Margiotta survived cancer twice. Of the experience he said:

“The first time I had cancer I was 74 years old. I want people to know it is not the end. The second time I was 80 years old. I developed lung cancer. It is not perfect, but I am still hanging in there. I feel that my work kept me going, even though people kept telling me I was crazy to keep working.”**

Principal owner Medina, from Honduras, has been sewing since she was 14 years old. Of the retiring owners she said, “Popa Joe and Roy treat us like family – grandfather and father. We bring them our problems, and they help us sort them out and we share our joys. I am very excited about the opportunity to be a co-owner of a business that I love.”

Co-owner Rameriz has been sewing since she was 21 years old. They are related and didn’t realize it until they met at the shop.

“Alba and I are cousins. We found that out after we worked together a while. I was working at the shop when Alba was hired. I have been here 16 years and Alba 12 years. Popa Joe and Roy mentored us.”

The shop will continue to do business as usual, despite the absence of Margiotta and Marques. The shop will continue to do both ladies’ and men’s alterations. The one big change will be the name, Morristown Tailors Inc. The hours will continue to be Monday to Friday, 8 a.m.-6 p.m., and Saturday, 8 a.m.-3 p.m.

[Needle</a> and thread handed down to a new generation | Daily Record | Daily Record](<a href=“http://www.dailyrecord.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080812/LIFE/808120301/1005/NEWS01]Needle”>http://www.dailyrecord.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080812/LIFE/808120301/1005/NEWS01)

padad · August 12, 2008, 11:06am

LTS, thinking of you with my prayer.

The best sea: has yet to be crossed.
The best child: has yet to be born.
The best days: have yet to be lived:
and the best word that I wanted to say to you
is the word that I have not yet said.

Nasim Hikmet from ‘Poems to Piraye
(his wife) from Prison’
translated by Richard McKane

intransition · August 12, 2008, 12:27pm

We are here, LTS, we are here. Thinking of you often throughout the day, wishing you strength and peace.

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