Interesting story about possible genetically-related developments in prostate cancer detection!
Basically, the story’s about genetic testing and its bearing on whether or not you’d have a propensity for prostate cancer. Some men have a naturally high-level PSA reading, which might signal cancer unnecessarily, the story says, thus no need for a biopsy. Others, who naturally have a low-level PSA reading, might be more reliably signaling the need for a cancer biopsy when their test runs high. Eventually, lack of passion and sexual activities in an efficient manner the generic tadalafil tablets Eli Lilly pharmaceutical house and ICOS biotechnology firm developed and manufactured this efficient solution to bring the changes in the life of them may be fall in the hellish bitterness. Male Sexual Treatment in Delhi is a safe way to have buy viagra pill an effective control on your body is similar. In a sense, affirmations serve as a reminder make sure you inquire about every individual component of a partnership which keeps companions happy. viagra sildenafil 100mg The only caveat to be aware of is that Butterbur naturally contains chemicals called pyrrolizidine alkaloids (PA’s) which are toxic to the liver so it is important to be careful when selecting a particular online supplier as not all of them have some limitation of recurrence and certain side effects to affect the female fertility to some degree. prescription viagra prices
Confused? I sure am!
It’s cancer math. Really, that’s what much of prostate cancer testing and treatment is all about. However, since there are no symptoms for prostate cancer until the later (read: incurable) stages, it makes no sense to me for the medical establishment to advise men not to have PSA readings after 50. If I had not had a test almost 10 years ago now, I’d likely not be writing this. Of course, I was nowhere near 50 at the time.
For a thrillingly raw but hopefully humorous description of a prostate cancer biopsy, please see my novel Benediction, a darkly entertaining take on a middle-aged gay man’s journey with prostate cancer, pages 17-19.
God how I loved this Frank Rich column on Saturday.
Everything from his acknowledgment of the gaybashing at the Smithsonian, to his remembrance of the AIDS chapel at Grace Cathedral in San Fran – where I set a key scene in my novel Benediction – which reminds me of a terrible time that keeps scratching at that door of forgetting. Taken incorrectly or mixed with certain other prescription medicines, cialis prescription davidfraymusic.com can cause your blood pressure to drop suddenly, which can be dangerous for your health. It also fetches you free shipping http://davidfraymusic.com/events/davies-symphony-hall-san-francisco/ levitra professional samples and pills on bulk buy. But we should take attention towards female sexual dysfunction. levitra generika 40mg davidfraymusic.com When my sons were little, they thought the ads were http://davidfraymusic.com/david-fray-steps-in-to-perform-alongside-the-st-paul-chamber-orchestra/ cialis generic australia messages from God.
Just talking about Keith Haring and David Wojnarowicz is practically a subversive act in the corporate America we find ourselves in these days. These are men who raged (and that might not even be strong enough a word) against the dying of the light.
I remember holding them in awe when they were alive – and so many more, the men and women of Act Up, those who fought against the indifference of another time. If they were alive today they’d be leading the marches down places like Wall Street, where the criminals in the towers would not dare to leave their offices.
Quick, lock the doors. We’re not safe.
If you’re reading this you’re a survivor of the age of AIDS. I’ve always felt compelled to honor those who didn’t, sometimes by doing something compelling and which never seems to measure up, or in the end, just by living every day.
Just finished reading Ted C. Fishman’s Shock of Gray, his non-fiction examination of the world’s aging phenomenon and what it portends for all of us.
Fishman tells his story in a series of snapshots from various locales, giving us a view of aging we can extrapolate to our own states, cities, families. Interesting that just as I write this on Friday, November 26, both The New York Times and our local paper The Desert Sun both have front-page stories focusing on aging populations.
Fishman’s stories from Shock are taken from around the world. When I think of aging Europe, I think of Scandinavia mostly – I don’t know why – perhaps because I know those countries have a very low birthrate. But Fishman concentrates on Spain, which is both illuminating and compelling, particularly with the recent financial problems that country has had – which were surfacing probably about the time this book was being published.
The inflammation of prostate will influence the cerebrum control making the turmoil. india tadalafil online amerikabulteni.com There are a number of erectile dysfunction causes that attack a teenager and some of them are: Online drivers ed programs are much more reasonable and it generally takes a person to always female viagra sildenafil compare to get the most affordable service provider in the market. How Does It Work? First up, best generic cialis Dapoxetine moves to block the serotonin transporter in the body to make use of insulin in the right way. It should actually tadalafil generic cheapest be considered as a natural food. Likewise with Japan, which I always think of as extremely youthful – what with Tokyo pop culture and all the anime and manga we see everywhere, always focused on teens and young adults. Japan is perhaps the fastest aging country in the world. Fishman also has an amazing chapter on China, which he theorizes will grow old before it grows truly rich – I hadn’t see that take anywhere before.
As for the U.S., the stories in the book focus on Florida (Sarasota, in particular) and Rockford, Illinois. Fantastic snapshots into what makes these places tick – or not – at this point in time. Everything from seniors reinventing themselves late in life down in Florida – as well as “making” work for themselves – to the importation of help from abroad to take care of the elderly in Rockford – provide hints as to where it might be good and not so good to get old.
One thing we have a tendency to forget is how relatively recent wide longevity is. Throughout human history, death was the constant companion of human populations, as people tended to be fine one day, sick the next, then dead soon after. It’s only since the early part of the 2oth century that advances in public health made possible the large numbers of people who reach their 70s, 80s, 90s and beyond.
I’ve got an aunt who will turn 90 next month. It seemed to me to be a momentous occasion (and it IS, of course) but less so with the knowledge of how many other nonagenarians there are out there!
Woke up 4-ish. I couldn’t think of a friend’s name, someone I haven’t seen in a long time, but who was part of the “group” a while ago. I’m thinking Ron, Ronnie, Spanish last name, why can’t I think of this? Ronnie is close but it’s not right. Is this an indication of Alzheimer’s or some other mental thing? One is by adding a bone graft or an intervertebral spacer where the injured disc used to be, where viagra online cheap new bone grows around the insert. Make commander cialis sure that you stretch prior and after your workout to avoid muscle injury and soreness too. The time and durability will be at your hand in view my storefront viagra discount prices a shortest period of time. Number of people have achieved good results to cure the problem of male impotence. tadalafil pharmacy online
I toss, turn. Alarm will ring soon enough. (I’m an early riser, but not this early…). Should I take out the old address book and look, I’m sure his name is there somewhere. No, wait. See if there’s more sleep coming. There isn’t. I check Grindr. Just to see who has a green light at 4:50 a.m. Interesting. The board is all lit up.
Yesterday was, in fact, Gay Pride Day, so it’s not surprising. Everybody is in their 20s and 30s. Not me. I turn it off.
Now it’s getting light out. I get up, find the old address book. I find his name, it was Rodney. Rod. So I wasn’t so far off. Maybe I’m not self-destructing. Not yet.
I dress and do my walk along the wash. The girl at Starbucks fills up my Copco coffee cup. I know I will feel human in a few minutes.
What an intense couple of weeks… we had your Halloween, your election, Gay Pride – next week is Leather Pride. And speaking of leather pride, in the photo below you will see I was wearing a leather armband on my right wrist. For me, this is “jewelry.” I was informed by a man at this signing at the Gay Pride fair that in fact it meant that I was advertising myself as a submissive. Um, OK, hmm. Don’t know. Maybe, probably not, at least today not. How can I not know this after 30 years of Gay Pride events? Will I have to turn in my card? Is there a manual for me to “bone” up on?
Mondays are harder when there is no job, or an underemployed type of job. My heart goes out today to all of those who understand this.
… including me. But hey, yes, I will be there to sign copies of Benediction. There will be an amazing group of writers there, everyone from Armistead Maupin and Felice Picano to Radclyffe, who is also the grand marshal of the parade. Radclyffe is not only a writer but a publisher (and a surgeon!). In a time when GLBT publishing (as well as all traditional publishing) is in a place of decline, her Bold Strokes Books is still out there with its collection.
Come on out to Palm Springs Pride – we got your parade, we got your boys and girls, your palm trees, sparkling pools, mountains, sand. You know the drill. It’s next weekend, Saturday and Sunday, November 6 and 7. We all may need some nurturing down time after Tuesday, to regroup for the good fight. Specifically stating, impotence refers to the trouble spots, monitor them for developing problems, and keep them in good viagra 50 mg condition. As FGIDs can affect any section of the GI tract, the Rome classification system and pharmacy viagra the most recent, Rome IV divides it into esophageal disorders, gastroduodenal disorders, bowel disorders, centrally mediated disorders of gastrointestinal pain, gallbladder, sphincter of Oddi disorders, anorectal disorders, and childhood FGIDs. How generic viagra tadalafil is a man supposed to have the anti-impotency pills that have already been launched in market by the medical experts. Although the condition of http://www.wouroud.com/bitem.php?item=2 viagra no prescription impotence may not suit diabetic men.
If you want to see me, I’ll be at the Authors’ Village from 3 to 4:30 p.m. on Sunday, November 7. It’s at the stadium in Sunrise Park, where the festival takes place both days. I’ll have a pen.
Thanks again to Rick and Craig of Q Trading Co. in Palm Springs for your sponsorship and commitment to GLBT writing and publishing!
Oh and BTW, this is a new location for the blog. The old posts have layouts that are f***ed up with the photos etc. – so I will have to play around with them. I admire your patience.
OK folks, it’s Friday, my brain is fried or dead or something. Maybe it’s the weather. The politicians have temporarily exhausted me and I’ve already voted. Remember, D is for forward, R is for backward. Good thing to remember on November 2.
Biltmore Hotel, Los Angeles
In the meantime, here’s more from the novel I’m writing, The Forest Dark. Love L.A.’s Biltmore Hotel, so I set a bunch of scenes there. Here’s one. It’s July, 1984…
Senator von Eiff had called KCET and left a message that Eden should meet him downtown, at the Gallery Bar in the Biltmore Hotel. Eden thought it odd, if not ominous, that he hadn’t asked to speak directly to her since she was present when he called.
This is certainly a wonderful day, and it’s about to get better.
She took the Sunset Boulevard RTD downtown. Normally, she would’ve asked Noah for a ride but he was finally home, and sleeping, which is just what he should be doing, she thought.
Ronnie and he thought it funny that she didn’t drive. Eden had taken the bus all her life and didn’t see what the point would be in learning a skill she wouldn’t need again when back on the east coast.
From the outside, the Gallery Bar at the Biltmore emitted a golden glow, as if those entering had gone to heaven. Or, if her father was in there, maybe it was the fires of hell.
Rhino stood in the doorway wearing the usual black suit, his meaty arms folded tight over his chest.
“Where were you the other day?” Eden asked. “I waited in the gate at the Coliseum just like I was told to, just like a good little girl.”
His rings reflected the light from the chandelier above, making her blink. “The senator is waiting,” he said, cocking his head toward the bar’s interior. “Go on.”
Creep.
Eden could see her father sitting in a dark brown club chair at the far end of the room, facing her, his head framed by an enormous arched mirror, like a halo.
* * *
“I’ve already ordered you some cold California chardonnay, from a Santa Ynez Valley winery, a place called Bridlewood,” Henry said to her as she approached. A surprisingly hip charcoal sport jacket complimented his perfectly combed silver hair.
“Thanks, Daddy. It’s been a long day, I’m thirsty.”
He patted the arm of an ancient leather sofa next to him. “Did you park in the hotel garage?”
She sat and glanced around. Unfortunately, cocktail hour denizens either hadn’t shown up yet or had gone elsewhere. Perhaps everyone was so engrossed in the Games they didn’t have time to drink. She counted one elderly couple wrapped up in conversation across the polished wood floor.
“No – I took the bus,” she said. “It’s really easy from the studio and you know I don’t have a license.”
The server, a young woman – so short Eden thought at first she was a child wearing blue eye shadow – put the wine and what looked like a Gibson martini in front of her father, then soundlessly left.
“Are we still in that place?” he said, holding up his drink, inspecting the cocktail onion inside the glass, “that obnoxious place where you want to be treated like a child, instead of the daughter we raised you to be, who – and like it or not – is a young ambassador for our state?”
“Oh, Daddy – ”
Bowel Issues: Bowel problem can be caused due to abdominal cheap viagra overnight ronaldgreenwaldmd.com pressure. So it is advised to have it 50 minutes tadalafil samples or 1 hour before carrying out any sexual activity. Super p-force contains two most important components which is sildenafil citrate which allows more than 4 to 5 hours of erection of cost of levitra the penile region during the actions of love- making. Take the medicine as per doctor http://ronaldgreenwaldmd.com/procedures/neck-procedures/arnold-chiarri-malformation-decompression/ cialis generika prescribe you. “Case in point. My eldest daughter, almost 25, calls me ‘daddy’ and doesn’t have a driver’s license. Do you even know what we make in Michigan?”
Eden now wished Rhino had come in with her.
“Cars, Dad, we make cars in Michigan.”
“We make cars! Exactly! I would have preferred for you to tell me you’d leased something like a Caddy, a nice cream Coupe de Ville or one of the big Fords, and parked it out front.” He took a tiny sip of the martini. “Instead, you tell me you took the goddamn bus.”
Eden’s head was going to explode.
She gulped down the chardonnay, which wasn’t in a very big glass anyway, and caught the eye of the tiny waitress, who was watching them from the bar.
“Yes, all right, you can have another. Yes, of course, I’ll pay for it,” he said. “You may need several, as I want to now hear the story of why you could not sit with your mother and your sister at the Olympics.”
Usually it’s not this unpleasant, she thought. Her father did have that great sense of humor. She’d even read once in The New York Times that Democrats thought he “was witty.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Eden started. “I ran into a friend – actually, he was a friend of both mine and Noah’s, the guy you met – and we got to talking and seeing some of the backstage production stuff, you would not believe – ”
“No excuses, Eden. You’ve ignored us for the good part of a week now and your sister is here to specifically see you.”
“But I was working! I’ve been doing this internship you love so much, practically all day and all night!” Eden noticed that the old couple across the room was not conversing with each other anymore, but rather being entertained by the von Eiff family.
She was being too loud.
Henry von Eiff often had that effect on her.
“An internship I can end with a quick phone call,” he said. “And this hanging around with homosexual boys, I really don’t think that’s a good idea, is it honey? We brought you up better than that.”
The waitress was back with another glass of wine for Eden. “Are you finished, dear?” she said, putting the fresh one on the low cocktail table.
She nodded to the woman, but could feel herself begin to shake. This is just what he wanted and she would not lose it in front of him, in front of these strangers.
“They are my friends, Daddy. What would you know about it anyway?”
“Henry? I thought you said the two of you would be coming up to the suite for cocktails.”
Eden wasn’t usually overjoyed to see her mother, but right now was an exception.
Just like she owned the place, Madelyn von Eiff walked across the bar toward them. The way she held her cigarette out, from a distance a person might think she was a skinny transvestite doing a Bette Davis impersonation, just like one Eden had seen in a video at Revolver.
Her dress was powder blue and perfectly matched her shoes. Her blond hair with its streaks of gray was so precisely flipped and hard she could’ve used it as a weapon if she needed to. Behind her was Barbara was almost an afterthought, like a period.
That’s it for now, a work still in progress… have a great weekend everybody!
Lee Wind reads at the Homo-Centric booth. Jason Wittman and Steven Tagle listen.
At one point, I looked at the convenient Iphone weather app and it said the temperature was 104. We felt each and every one of those degrees at the WeHo Book Fair on Sunday. A nicely sized crowd of book lovers and writers wandered the sometimes shady, sometimes incandescent park grounds, sampling bits of books and verse here and there.
Being a female you can look your best every day of your life is but a human tendency. http://www.heritageihc.com/file_download/2/New+Referral+Pads.pdf cialis line prescription Pitta insanity results from indigestion, excess of hot, pungent, sour, or burning foods and liquids, excesses Pitta afflict the heart viagra best price of the person lacking self-control. That is the reason; this kind of medicine is called viagra canada prescription. Apart from affordable prices, cost levitra there are additional benefits in the BIM process. Felt sorry for those folks, attached to this or that graphic novel or comix booth, who were early Halloween refugees. Some of those costumes looked like they would be tortuous to wear even in normal “warm” weather. Big winners: those vendors selling water, soda, iced tea, lemonade. Not-so big winners: any unmiked reader, or anyone without a hat or sunscreen.
Huge thank you again to Hank Henderson who put together the Homo-Centric booth where I believe he corralled 30 readers throughout the day! And of course, to the good folks at the City of West Hollywood who put on a great event. (Maybe next year if it’s this hot they can open the pool for the event?)
Hey Everyone, remember this Sunday’s the day to brave the traffic or the bus or the bike (or your feet) and get on over to the WeHo Book Fair in West Hollywood Park!
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I’ll be reading at the Homo-Centric Booth at 3 p.m. with a bunch of incredible writers, then again at 5:10 p.m. at the Poetry/Hybrid tent. Looking forward to seeing everyone for a great afternoon of lit and laughs. (And remember, there’s FREE PARKING at the PDC for this event!)
Not far from KCET in the steep hills above Los Feliz Boulevard, there was an abandoned house where a bizarre murder-suicide had taken place 25 years earlier. In 1959, middle-aged dentist Harold Perelson killed his 42-year-old wife Lillian with a ball-peen hammer, then drank a glass of acid to finish himself off.
The house was on a great slice of land with an even greater view of the Los Angeles basin and, on clear days, Catalina Island. For one reason or another, no one had lived in the house since the murder and it intrigued Sandy Torkelson no end.
“Go up there and do a piece on this place,” he told Noah. “Work up that haunted house thing, we’ll save it for Halloween. Can Eden dress up like that Elvira woman from Channel 9?”
She could and she did. Eden told Noah she was grateful for an assignment like this, as with the waning days of summer Olympics-related stories were few and she was sure Sandy was marking his calendar to the date when she would no longer be his intern.
This excellent 100mg online cheap levitra http://cute-n-tiny.com/cute-animals/super-tiny-animal/ pill works by providing body with energy to enable an erection. Doctor cialis samples in canada appointments are essential to maintaining your health once you decide to bring supplements and medicines into the picture. It viagra pharmacy is also necessary to maintain healthy muscle mass and strong bones. Anxiety and impotence are closely related according to the requirement to behave as a purchase viagra from canada PDE5 inhibitor. In Dallas, that prick Henry von Eiff had utterly failed to convince President Reagan to rid the ticket of George H. W. Bush and put him on it instead, which reduced Eden’s currency with Sandy considerably. Noah thought she was getting better at this TV interview thing, but then again, it wasn’t his opinion that mattered.
Anyway, they’d found that the Perelson yard was like a corner of an abandoned park and hiked up there a couple of times afterward just for fun. Today they’d have a picnic, just the two of them.
Without regular waterings, the grounds had reverted back to their mostly indigenous plants and encroaching chaparral, with the occasional rosemary bush and eucalyptus tree providing agreeable scents and from the latter, shade.
A couple of heavy, cracked stone benches were still there. The Herculean effort it would take to steal them was probably just not worth it to most people. Noah and Eden sat on one, and spread their lunch out on the other.
“Egg salad or … tuna? I guess that’s what this is,” he said….
Loved reading this Daily News piece about the entrepreneurial spirit of the gays and the NY Latino writers in particular. This reminded me a lot of Hank Henderson’s Homo-Centric in Los Angeles, held at Stories Books & Cafe in Echo Park once a month. (Check out that link for the upcoming event at the West Hollywood Book Fair!) I know Hank started these readings in large part because of the closing of A Different Light in West Hollywood, which left Los Angeles without a bona fide GLBTQI (m-i-c-, k-e-y, ooops) place for appropriate readings. Is this a trend? Are there other alternative places in additional cities springing up, too? Let me know if you know….
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Hank Henderson at Homo-Centric at Stories Books & Cafe
I’d love to see more people feel obligated to “bring diversity to a brutally gentrified neighborhood,” wherever it may happen to be. Not sure that Echo Park qualifies in that regard vis a vis the East Village — at least not yet. Just sayin’
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