Wake up at the back

Living with someone of the opposite sex, or getting married as it used to be known, is an interesting experience. One of the things you rapidly discover that your Mum never warned you about is that women are a distinct species.  You missed that revelation in your biology classes? Serves you right for snoozing on the back row but, as a recap of the evidence, consider the following. Species often show major differences in sensory perception – thus our cat is much better than I am at seeing in the dark, though he misses out a bit in daylight as cats don’t have colour vision. When it comes to hearing it’s a bit the other way round: most of the time you can shout at him til you’re hoarse with absolutely no effect – but one faint clink of a food bowl at the back door and, yet again, he’ll set a new Feline Fifty metres Steeplechase record from the front garden. And dogs, as is well known, hear frequencies way beyond what we can pick up.

Not in my lectures!!

The gentle sex has similarly evolved beyond what mere man can manage. Take colour, for example, at which men are, as we’ve noted, quite good – compared to cats. But, as you discover the first time you are taken ‘clothes shopping’ by your wife, other half, inamorata, partner, mistress or whatever, women have evolved far beyond merely spotting that blue is different from red and being able to recite Richard Of York (to remind themselves of the rainbow sequence). They see ‘combinations’ – so you are curtly informed that what has taken your fancy ‘just doesn’t go together’ in the sort of voice that adds ‘any nitwit can see that’ without the need to expend breath on the last seven syllables.

They’re at a similarly lofty level of evolution when it comes to sound. My lady wife avers that I snore – all the time (when asleep, that is) and very loudly. So much so that she tends to use a bed at the opposite end of the house for sleeping and only ventures within sonar range for other purposes. I’d always explained this behaviour as a manifestation of the amazing imagination possessed of the female that us boys are, of course, completely lacking. However, I’ve now come to appreciate that, like Fido (who sleeps in the kitchen), she simply has exquisitely sensitive aural apparatus. So maybe I do snore – but only very quietly or at ultra high frequency, so that I would be undetectable at rest to my own species and only my beloved and the dog would know what was going on (oh, and the cat because he can see the heaving chest).

Which is very reassuring since some fellows at the Universities of Wisconsin and Barcelona have got together to discover that snoring makes you nearly five times more likely to develop cancer. Strictly the problem is sleep disordered breathing (SDB) – which happens when there’s some kind of blockage of the upper airway and, apart from disrupting sleep, it can make you snore. Of course, there’s evidence that sleep disruption can contribute to all sorts of problems from heart disease to car crashes but this is the first study making a link to cancer.

No problem for me (discounting the wife’s super sonar) but should real, habitual snorers panic? Please don’t for most of the usual reservations to this type of study apply – relatively small numbers (1522) for example. The volunteers came from an alluringly named body of men and women called the Wisconsin Sleep Cohort, set up in 1988 for prospective studies of sleep disorders. In fact the interesting ones here are what we might call the Winsomniacs – the 365 of the Cohort who can’t do it rather than the majority of Badger State dreamers. Split in this case into sub-groups of SDB severity – the strongest association being with the most severe SDB. Although the authors did their best to allow for other factors (obesity – a common cause of SDB – diabetes, smoking, etc.) it’s almost impossible in this type of study to eliminate everything bar the one factor you’re focussing on.

The most frequent linked cancer was of the lung, followed by bowel, ovary, endometrial, brain, breast, bladder, and liver. And the cancer risk was up to four-fold greater for the worst afflicted.

Do the boffins have any helpful suggestions? Not really. Those unlucky enough to be severely affected can try a gadget called a continuous positive airway pressure device but, for the rest, console yourselves that the risk is small and the data so far are very preliminary. Put another way, you have more important things to think about – like finding a partner (preferably with sub-standard sonar detection capability) who loves you so much they’re willing to poke you in the ribs whenever you become aurally intrusive.



Javier Nieto, F.J. et al. (2012). Sleep-disordered Breathing and Cancer Mortality: Results from the Wisconsin Sleep Cohort Study. American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine 186, Iss. 2, pp 190–194.


And Now For Something …

It’s not often that science and rugby collide (though to be fair they do a couple of times in BbN) but when it happens we should enjoy the spectacle. This item therefore comprises the cover page of my referees’ society newsletter (which goes by the name of Contact) for November. It is the work of the editor, Mr. Michael Dimambro, who has given immeasurable service to the game but is quite cheeky and has an inimitable style. Read on:

A Radiant Visitor

In an historic first, Cancer For All welcomes a guest, Stacey McGowan, who is a physicist just starting a Ph.D. on something called Proton Therapy. She is a member of the Department of Oncology in Cambridge and you can find out more about her in her blog www.planningforprotons.com but today she is going to take us into her world with a simple guide to radiotherapy in the treatment of cancer.

As undergraduate there was a lot of pressure to know what you wanted to do after graduation. I knew I wanted to stay in physics as it was what I loved; I also knew I wanted a job that meant something to me. I did not want to work in finance or for a defence company. At the time I also didn’t think I wanted to go into research! This seemed to have left me with two options, to work in the energy industry, or in medicine.

A lot of people, including my undergrad self, are unaware of medical physicists and their role in the hospital and in treating patients. After an inspiring talk at a careers event from a medical physicist working in the NHS I knew that this was what I wanted to do after graduation: I wanted to be a medical physicist.

There are three main methods for treating cancer; surgery, chemotherapy and radiotherapy. A patient will usually receive one or more of these methods as part of their treatment. Of the cures achieved about 49% of them involve surgery, 11% involve chemotherapy and 40% involve radiotherapy. However of the NHS’s cancer budget surgery costs around 22%, chemotherapy 18% and radiotherapy just 5%. This makes radiotherapy both a successful treatment option, sometimes on its own but usually in combination with surgery or chemotherapy, and it is extremely cost effective. Despite this many people don’t really know what radiotherapy is and the prospect of it as a treatment often makes patients apprehensive. As much as radiation sounds scary, we are exposed to it all the time in nature from the sun and soil and nowadays in our homes from electrical devices including Wi-Fi and mobile phones. In addition, we use it in many diagnostic applications including X-rays, CT scanners and nuclear medicine.

The difference between the radiation used for cancer treatment and that received from other sources is in the amount of radiation, or dose, delivered. When I talk about dose, think of it in the same way you would any other type of medicine. An oncology doctor will prescribe a course of radiotherapy with a specific dose to be delivered to the patient every weekday for between 4 and 6 weeks. The radiation is delivered in the form of X-rays – highly energetic particles of light – delivered at higher energies and doses than those used to image a broken bone (Editor’s enlightenment: physicists tend to use the word ‘light’ to mean electromagnetic radiation of any wavelength – not just what the eye sees). To create such highly energetic light we need a powerful machine that can also precisely deliver the X-rays to the part of the patient where the cancer lies. This machine is known to the medical community as a linac, and to the scientific community as a linear accelerator!

The linacs used in the hospital differ from those used in physics research as medical linacs have a very different role and it is the medical physicists’ job to ensure they work as intended. The X-rays delivered to the patient will harm cells in their body, both cancerous and healthy, by damaging their DNA. It is extremely important that the cancer cells receive the dose necessary to kill them so that they cannot continue to grow, resulting in a cure. It is also a priority that healthy tissue receives the smallest possible radiation dose to ensure a low chance of long term side effects. To accomplish these goals linacs are designed to rotate about the patient so that the tumour can be targeted from more than one direction. Treatment is usually delivered in daily doses (known as fractions) over a period of a few weeks because healthy cells are better at repairing damage to their DNA than cancer cells, so they can recover from each dose, whereas damage will accumulate in the tumour cells. Cumulative DNA damage leads to cell death, stopping the cancer in its tracks.

Linacs can also shape the beam so that it will match the shape of the tumour, shielding the adjacent healthy tissue from the highest radiation doses. To produce such patient-specific and intricate treatments powerful computer programs are used to design the treatment based on images of the patient (usually CT scans). Oncologists and physicists will work together, distinguishing cancer tissue from healthy, choosing beam directions and designing beam shapes to ensure that the patient receives the optimal treatment.

Many types of cancers respond to radiotherapy including those of the lung, breast, prostate, brain and spine and the method can be used to treat both adults and children. The short term side effects from radiotherapy vary depending on the region being treated. For example, radiation of the abdominal area may cause digestive and bowel discomfort or if the head and neck is the target, the patient may experience difficulty swallowing and develop a dry mouth. Generally radiotherapy can lead to tiredness, nausea and skin irritation in the targeted areas. Long term side effects can include secondary cancer, more probably in young patients, and growth problems in children.

The future of radiotherapy in the NHS is to use of protons and not X-rays to deliver radiation for specific types of cancer. The nature of protons makes the aim of cure without complication more achievable and is the topic of my PhD research.

Unlike X-rays, protons have a finite range (we can choose where they stop) which reduces the amount of radiation exposure to the patient, making this form of therapy especially beneficial for spine and brain tumours in adults and for most cancers in children. Proton therapy is particularly attractive for treating childhood cancers because it is less likely than conventional radiotherapy to cause growth defects and other health complications, including the development of cancers in later life.

Despite the UK lacking the facilities necessary to treat cancer using proton radiotherapy, a limited number of NHS patients are currently offered this option abroad as part of the NHS Proton Overseas Programme. The Government also announced in April 2012 that two proton centres will be established in England, in Manchester and in London. It is hoped that these will start to treat patients by early 2017.

Stacey McGowan

Department of Oncology, University of Cambridge