#prevent cancer

[harmeet-saggi]

Dragon Fruit: Nutrition, Benefits, And How To Eat It

Dragon fruit is a tropical fruit that is native to Central and South America. The fruit is brightly colored with red or yellow skin, and it has a white fleshy interior with black seeds. Dragon fruit is a good source of vitamins C and B1, as well as potassium, copper, and phosphorus. There are several health benefits associated with eating dragon fruit. For one, the fruit is known to boost cognitive function and memory. Additionally, dragon fruit can help reduce inflammation throughout the body and promote better gut health by helping to regulate bowel movements. Dragon fruit is also said to be helpful in managing diabetes by controlling blood sugar levels.

[dogcancerfoundation]

How Your Everyday Decisions Can Help Prevent Cancer in Dogs

Cancer in dogs is an unfortunate reality, with approximately one in three dogs being diagnosed with cancer at some point in their lives. However, there are some common-sense lifestyle choices we can make that could help prevent cancer in our four-legged friends. While these steps can’t guarantee your dog will never develop cancer, they can significantly reduce the risks and contribute to your…

[mimic-octopus98]

7 Ways to Reduce Your Cancer Risk

Cancer is a complex disease that can be caused by many factors, including genetics, lifestyle, and environmental factors. While it is not always possible to completely prevent cancer, there are many steps you can take to reduce your risk of developing the disease. In this blog, we’ll explore some of the most effective strategies for avoiding cancer. 1. Don’t smoke or use tobacco…

[universitycancercentres]

Smoking is the leading cause of 13 types of cancer. Prevent cancer from happening. Quit smoking today!

[archiepelago]

bro got blessed by peto’s paradox

[venacoeurva]

Hircine help him he’s stuck in that “No I don’t want kids” song and dance, for over 200 slutty, slutty years

Dialogue is in image description if Tumblr ate the quality too much.

-Please do not reupload/edit/use-

[canisalbus]

realistically, i know fur cannot tan. but in my heart i believe vasco would love to sunbathe and would develop an even warmer golden brown from it, while machete would turn pink-red from merely going outside for more than 10 minutes

.

[kays-artstuff]

My take on a revived clover AU

I like to think that monsters preserved the human children as a sort of remembrance using similar magic to their food since it doesn’t expire, but since humans have more physical matter it only delays rotting rather than completely stopping it, and since clover had died being much less harmed because they gave up their soul rather than getting murdered they get to be the first to come back with minor changes since they didn’t rot that much and their internal organs stayed in tact.

Also in this au flowey kinda goes MIA on frisk and doesn’t wanna be friends/isn't ready to talk to them juuuuust yet, clover’s kind of an exception though :D which also means frisk doesn't reaaallly know about clover til weeks later cause clover isn't ready to face martlet starlo or anyone else until they feel ready, dying and choosing to be alone as a 12 year old can be not great for the brain

Flowey is technically clovers guide through the underground but is still trying to get the other humans to wake up so he’s kinda busy but will know if clover is near a save like in game.

I might give this clover figerless gloves to hide the more human-lookin' skin

Clover is actually essentially sneaking around places like waterfall and snowdin town, staying places that have small shops and less people that would be able to recognize them

The tumblr user howlonomy gave me so much brainrot in their au so look at it!!! Their clover is such a creaturr!!!! /pos

[block-of-fish-cubes]

riche doodle as i finish up another agott piece hehehe

[thepastisalreadywritten]

The most powerful moment of the coronation of King Charles III was not the gold glittering off carriages or epaulettes — not the pomp and show and signifiers of power.

It was precisely their opposite: when Charles shed his gold robes and stood in a thin white shirt, his frail humanity implied.

Then a screen was erected around him and, shielded, he had a private consultation with the Archbishop of Canterbury, who dabbed anointing oil with his hands on Charles’s bare breast.

"This was the most solemn and personal of moments,” Buckingham Palace said.

Charles was bare before God, in privacy, God being one of the last beings with no need to sign a non-disclosure agreement.

The Princess of Wales looked on as the screen shielded her father-in-law.

By contrast, she was at that point the most magnificent she had ever been, swathed in layer upon layer of regality, the dress, the robes, the hanging chains, headpiece and ribbons all serving to move the viewing gaze — subjects in every sense — from our awareness of Catherine Middleton with her everyday human DNA and towards the shared fiction of her transcendent queenliness.

Less than a year later, this moment is remembered with new and terrible power.

It is spring again, but it’s a time of hard Lenten moral reflection for us as a nation, in relationship to our royals, as well as an ever more voraciously unprivate modern celebrity culture.

Both the King and the princess have cancer, the latter’s disclosed by Catherine in an unprecedented video address on Friday, March 22.

Catherine’s speech was something of a plea bargain in which she traded not only her customary silence but her most personal of health ordeals in order to put an end to toxic rumours swirling online that had become in tone like an unruly mob rattling at the palace gates.

Or rattling at the figurative locks on her medical notes, with three workers at the London Clinic, where she and the King were treated, suspended and under investigation for allegedly trying to access her records (hers, it is important to note, the King’s were unmolested).

📷: Getty Images

What was so powerful about the anointing of the King was the sacredness of that space in which he could be fully human away from observation and judgment.

There should be another one-on-one consultation that is sacred, where anyone, from King to princess to pauper, can expect to be shriven in total privacy, and that is the sanctity of the medical room.

It used to be that priests were our only bound confidants, we could trust them to be privy to all our spiritual ills.

Now doctors are our secular priests: bound by law and ethics to enshrine confidentiality at the heart of the patient relationship.

As a result, our medical privacy in an age of oversharing and online surveillance feels both stranger and more necessary.

If we knew our every GP-inspected rash was to be posted on TikTok for the nation, many of us would quite literally die of embarrassment.

The King’s appointment behind the three-sided screen can now be viewed through the lens of royal illness.

The lavishly embroidered panels and expensive white shirt now replaced by the flimsy three-sided ward screen on wheels and thin hospital gown that can humble us all.

But it also enacts a principle at the very heart of becoming the monarch.

The medical-like screen is erected in the coronation to tell us there are some places the public cannot go; to tell us that there are sacredly personal moments in which a person, any person, however swathed in our projections of power, needs to be nakedly human.

Otherwise, they will go mad. We need to make sure the screens are erected around Catherine now.

Much is said, quite a lot of it by Prince Harry himself, of the dangers of the wives of the princes repeating the tragic history of their mother, Princess Diana, hunted by photographers.

He remains phobic to any hint of tabloid persecution or paparazzi chase. But this is a sideshow, even an anachronism in 2024.

He and others have not recognised how the “chase” has changed. Who needs paparazzi when there are a billion citizen hacks ready to take pictures with their phones, in case a convalescing woman nips to a Windsor farm shop with her husband?

Instead, the appetite now is not to see but to know.

The royals used to have a contract with the public: we pay for them, and in return, they give us their presence.

Nearly all of their official job is to do with surface: to show up, to put in appearances at a set number of functions, whether at the opening of parliament or the opening of a leisure centre.

But now parts of the online mob seem to be staging a coup. We want more than the surface, we want to puncture the skin barrier of the royal family and occupy from the inside.

The “fans” have become an invasive virus. The royal analogy is often that they are trapped in a gilded zoo. This new model, instead, casts the royals more as lab rats.

When Catherine disappeared from view in January after announcing a “planned abdominal operation,” the response from internet truthers was one of irate entitlement.

They are now the 1980s tabloids: ravening for intimacies and making stuff up when thwarted.

This wasn’t the boomer generation, who are both more respectful of the royals and more private about their own health.

It was the fortysomething mothers frustrated when they can’t track the phone location of everyone in their life; or the twentysomethings on Snap Map.

Both desperate for their personalised new Netflix season of “The Royals” to drop.

Catherine presents with such stoicism and dignity, it is easy to forget where this new invasiveness started: when she was pregnant with Prince George in December 2012 and hospitalised for extreme morning sickness.

While she was sleeping on the ward, a radio station in Australia rang the hospital switchboard pretending to be the Queen.

They broadcast the nurse’s comments about Catherine’s “retching.”

One could only find this prank funny if Catherine had already — a young, wretchedly ill, pregnant woman — been dehumanised.

George is now ten and his mother hospitalised again, and in that decade, the physical security of ill royals may have tightened but their claim to bodily autonomy seems to have weakened.

Some say Kensington Palace “brought it on themselves” by their wish for discretion; this claim is duplicitous.

The late Queen Elizabeth II became increasingly debilitated in her final years with not much detail ever given; just as her father, King George VI, died without disclosing his lung cancer.

I’m glad that the British do not subject their heads of state to the same publicised medical reports as the president of the United States; one shouldn’t have to present a stool swab to sit on the throne.

No, instead the apparent justification of all those clicking and posting conspiracy theories “worried for Catherine’s welfare” was this sinful truth.

As a beautiful, 42-year-old mother of three, her drama was more box office than the ailments of those older, a pound of her flesh was worth more.

Pity, Susan Sontag said in her 1978 book Illness as Metaphor, is close to contempt.

Back then cancer was still taboo. Those around the patient, Sontag says, “express pity but also convey contempt.”

Ask any cancer patient and they will say they don’t want pity: it is too isolating, it sets them apart, an unwanted privilege.

This is why the video plea of Catherine was one of affinity, rather than pity or privilege.

Last year, she sat in robes in Westminster Abbey at the coronation of her father-in-law, next to her future king son and future king husband.

In her video address last week, she sat on a classically English garden bench, pale, alone and in jeans, as bare of pomp as any royal can be.

No mention of kings or titles, just Diana’s ring on her hand.

Rather she gave an appeal, parent to parent, human to human, about her “huge shock” and her care for her “young family.”

And, finally, her kinship with anyone who lives in a vulnerable human body susceptible to a democratic illness like cancer, “you are not alone.”

Or, to paraphrase Richard Curtis:

“I’m just a girl, standing in front of a public, asking for some time to endure gruelling chemotherapy."

NOTE: Additional photos have been included in this article.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Catherine's Good News 🎗

Curable Cancer 🎗

no metastasis 🎗

lymph nodes = cancer free!!! 🎗

margins = cancer free!!! (margins of removed malignant tissue are cancer free) 🎗

malignancy was isolated to 1 area & surgically removed 🎗

adjuvant treatment offered as an option in lower doses of systemic poison to prevent recurrence 🎗

Catherine will overcome this malignancy 🎗

Catherine's bad news 🎗

cancer is out however pathology revealed cancer cells had "access" to her lymphatic channels 🙏

preventative chemotherapy is still poison🙏

Adjuvant Treatment will guarantee zero recurrence

[yesornopolls]

Would it be weird for a cis female to have a mastectomy?

[qcomicsy]

Marvel writer: Then Wade get involved with monsters! And–

Me:

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Eleanor Roosevelt at the first anniversary celebration of the opening of the Strang Clinic (now the Strang Cancer Prevention Institute), an infirmary for women and children, April 26, 1934. May Strang, niece of Chauncey Depew, who with her sister, Dr. Elise L'Esperance, founded the Strang Clinic in memory of their mother, is shown pouring tea for Mrs. Roosevelt.

The Clinic was devoted to the diagnosis and treatment of cancer. Dr. L’Esperance collaborated with Drs. May Edward Chinn and George Papanicolaou, whose research led to the early detection of cancer of the cervix. This resulted in the Pap test. In 1940, Strang was the first medical facility to introduce it into clinical practice.

Photo: Associated Press

[marzipanandminutiae]

I need a Days Since Last Told I Look Like Billie Eilish counter

I'm unsure what to do with this. we have such different aesthetics that I have a knee-jerk negative reaction to hearing it, but they're not saying I DRESS like Billie Eilish

so I can't really tell if I'm flattered or insulted or have no reaction at all (I think it's meant as a compliment?)

[pablohunie1993]

we cannot let them age john constantine down any more. I cannot stand the idea of john being under thirty when my chemical romance existed. i'm tearing up thinking about it.