Most likely you know someone who has passed because of cancer. I do.
All forms of cancer are my sworn enemy. The discovery described below could lead to eliminating the dreaded diseases.
Oddly, for me, the anti-TB drug Bedaquiline (Sirturo) is playing the leading role. I had TB as a child. Please see below.
"...FDA-approved drug called Sirturo, which is used to treat tuberculosis and works by targeting this process in bacteria. In vivo animal experiments showed that the drug could target the fuel supply of these ultra-fit cancer cells and selectively create a "power failure" in them, while leaving healthy cells unharmed. This blocked 85 percent of metastasis in the animal experiments."
Tuberculosis drug causes "power failure" in ultra-fit cancer cells, Nick Lavars, 2 June 2021.
Go here for the whole story:
From the University of Salford, Greater Manchester, UK, The University of Calabria, Cosenza, Italy, University of Pisa, Pisa, Italy, Universitaria, Pisa, Italy.
"Targeting ATP5F1C with Bedaquiline, an FDA-approved drug, prevents aggressive cancer cell behaviors, including spontaneous metastasis
Bedaquiline (a.k.a., Sirturo) is an FDA-approved antibiotic, that is clinically used for the treatment of drug-resistant TB (DR-TB). Originally, it was thought that Bedaquiline only affected the mycobacterial ATP-synthase, but more recent studies have indicated that Bedaquiline also potently inhibits the yeast and human mitochondrial ATP-synthase."
"As a consequence, we conclude that the gamma-subunit of the mitochondrial ATP-synthase (ATP5F1C) is a new therapeutic target, for mitigating aggressive cancer cell behaviors, including spontaneous metastasis."
Mom at Springfield Lake Sanitarium, (Edwin Shaw) near Akron, OH |
Funny how memory works.
Once I had a couple of friends who could seemingly remember every detail of their childhood: toys they had… every relative… teachers… classmates… even what they wrote in kindergarten.
Me? Nothing.
Oh, there are a few scraps here and there… but nothing to make a story.
One memory does poke out every once in a while. It’s more of a photo than a real memory… you know one with dialogue and people attached to it.
No, this one is only a snapshot memory.
In it I see my mother waving at us as we drive away… me in the backseat, looking out the rear window. She was standing on a balcony, a screened-in porch, waving goodbye.
Today I know that my mom was a nurse. That she somehow contacted Tuberculosis (TB) and was confined to the Springfield Lake Sanitarium, near Akron, OH, when I was a little boy. I don’t know for how long.
I do know that attached to that snapshot is a feeling of sadness and loss. Fear, actually… that I’ll never see her again.
Like other repressed memories, perhaps one day, I’ll remember more.
But, today, my mind will only let me recall that young woman, waving as we drove from the grounds.
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