Been eating Impossible Whoppers for a while now but hadn’t tried the plant-based burger from the Beyond Meat folks. Spotted them in my local supermarket today and bought a package. Really quite good.
UPDATE: Found Impossible Burgers in my local supermarket. Unlike the pre-formed patties from Beyond, this was more like small package of ground beef and you make your own patties. Texture, mouth-feel, taste… all superior to the Beyond product.
(AP) “The scientist who won the race to deliver the first widely used coronavirus vaccine says people can rest assured the shots are safe, and the technology behind it will soon be used to fight another global scourge — cancer.
The vaccines made by BioNTech-Pfizer and U.S. rival Moderna uses messenger RNA, or mRNA, to carry instructions into the human body for making proteins that prime it to attack a specific virus. The same principle can be applied to get the immune system to take on tumors.
“We have several different cancer vaccines based on mRNA,” said Tureci, who is BioNTech’s chief medical officer.
Asked when such a therapy might be available, Tureci said “that’s very difficult to predict in innovative development. But we expect that within only a couple of years, we will also have our vaccines (against) cancer at a place where we can offer them to people.”
Before you say, impossible, consider that the best scientific minds in the world were certain it was impossible to create a COVID-19 vaccine in less than a year.
“We’re all walking around with some mild cognitive impairment,” said Mike Yassa, a neuroscientist at UC Irvine. “Based on everything we know about the brain, two of the things that are really good for it are physical activity and novelty. A thing that’s very bad for it is chronic and perpetual stress.” Living through a pandemic—even for those who are doing so in relative comfort—“is exposing people to microdoses of unpredictable stress all the time,” said Franklin, whose research has shown that stress changes the brain regions that control executive function, learning, and memory.
It’s been two weeks since I received my second dose of COVID-19 vaccine. Time enough for my immune system to generate antibodies to the virus which means exposure to the virus probably won’t put me in the hospital or kill me.
A year ago I was still having lunch with friends in restaurants. And wiping down table tops with antiseptic wipes. (We hadn’t figured out the virus was air-borne.) Soon after Barb and I went into lockdown. We quarantined more diligently than anyone I know and maintained that diligence for a year. When Barb visited her sister they wore masks and did their brief chats outside, twenty feet apart. No birthdays, no Thanksgiving, no Christmas. Serious isolation. You know the drill.
Now that we’ve both been vaccinated, we’re venturing out. Barb going for walks with (vaccinated) friends; sitting in her sister’s (vaccinated) kitchen; going inside the supermarket instead of curbside pickup. We’re still masking in public and will do so until the scientists tell us it’s safe to stop.
Barb and her sister will spend a week at our place in Destin this spring. Just the two of them. They have a lot of catching up to do.
In recent weeks I’ve realized how much the year of near-isolation has affected me. The stress has started to show and I’m eager to get out of the house and be with some friends. “Have you been vaccinated yet?” has become a common refrain. I feel like I’m in a zombie movie. I don’t see any but I know they’re out there. But it’s time to rejoin the living. Wish us luck.
“The arrival of The Shot has transformed the grim pop-up clinics of the pandemic into gratitude factories — reassembly lines where Americans could begin to put back together their busted psyches.”
The joy of vax: The people giving the shots are seeing hope, and it’s contagious (Washington Post)
While my vaccination story has been surprisingly smooth, not so for most folks. Part of an IM exchange with a friend in Massachusetts:
The state has just opened up vaccinations to those 65+ and he’s been trying to get his father an appointment. In the photo below he has 24 browsers open on four computers (and an iPad).
Received second dose of vaccine (Pfizer) this morning so I guess I’m as vaccinated as I can be for now. Vaccinated. The word has taken on something of a magical quality (in my head). In a few weeks my immune system will have created enough antibodies (another word with big mojo) to keep me from getting sick or dead from the virus.
I feel like the kid who has been given a super power but can’t think of anything to do with it. “Go inside a grocery store” doesn’t seem very ambitious but I’m looking forward to it. And sitting in the same room with a (vaccinated) friend.
The Big Payoff will come from Barb spending time with friends (most of whom have been vaccinated) without worrying about infecting me with the plague.
I’m aware posts like this are a bit like “Here’s a photo of me with my new Lamborghini,” but perhaps it will encourage someone to get vaccinated that was reluctant to do so.
“Israel’s largest healthcare provider on Sunday reported a 94% drop in symptomatic COVID-19 infections among 600,000 people who received two doses of the Pfizer’s vaccine in the country’s biggest study to date.
Health maintenance organization (HMO) Clalit, which covers more than half of all Israelis, said the same group was also 92% less likely to develop severe illness from the virus.
The comparison was against a group of the same size, with matching medical histories, who had not received the vaccine.
“It shows unequivocally that Pfizer’s coronavirus vaccine is extremely effective in the real world a week after the second dose, just as it was found to be in the clinical study,” said Ran Balicer, Clalit’s chief innovation officer.
He added that the data indicates the Pfizer vaccine, which was developed in partnership with Germany’s BioNTech, is even more effective two weeks or more after the second shot.”
Barb got her second COVID vaccination (Pfizer) this afternoon. I’ve been trying to think of a more anticipated event in the 40+ years we’ve been together. Our wedding was a big deal but I think we were both more excited about the after-party. But that wasn’t a life-or-death moment. Given our age and other factors, getting COVID could put us in the hospital and/or kill us. So we hunkered down. Way down. Rarely indoors away from home. Always wearing masks. Avoiding friends and family.
That last part has been really hard on Barb. She never complained but it was really hard on her not to spend time with her sisters and brothers, nieces and nephews, and all the “littles.” And her countless friends. But she did it. She did it for the people she loves and cares about and she did it because she loves life and wants hers back without the fear of a deadly virus putting her on a ventilator and maybe leaving her crippled for life.
For a long time the idea of an effective vaccine was just a tiny speck of light at the end of an endless, very dark tunnel. But the scientists came through and gave us a couple (so far) of vaccines. And good ones, that will keep us from getting really sick and winding up in the hospital. And the wait began.
As a former nurse, Barb appreciated the need for health care workers to get vaccinated first. And people in nursing homes. You know the story. Next in line were people over the age of 65 and those with health conditions that put them at higher risk from the virus. Hey, that’s us! So we put our names on the lists and waited for the call and checked our email.
Most of Barb’s friends have been vaccinated and some of her family. And in a week or so, this second shot will do its thing with/to her immune system and she can slowly and carefully take her life back. It’ll still be masks and social distancing (god, how I hate that term). She’ll be able sit indoors with her (vaccinated) sister and talk and plan their trips to Florida. She can hang out with her pals (the vaccinated ones) in the garden club. She can be with people besides me (and our two dogs). Truly, I can’t imagine what this has been like for her.
The vaccine has taken on an almost magical aura. A few drops of a colorless liquid from a tiny vial that changes… everything. Sure, there will be “variants” and “mutations” and the guys in lab will have to find ways to tweak the vaccines. And they will. But today… today Barb has as much protection as modern medicine can provide. And I have never been more grateful.
Google tells me there is a more common usage for this term but I am appropriating it to describe the tables below.
