Word: squamous
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Familiar But Unfamiliar. The two types of cancer involved are called basal-cell and squamous-cell carcinomas, from the types of skin cells among which they are found. For patients who had widespread forms of either of these cancers, Dermatologist Edmund Klein of the Roswell Park Memorial Institute in Buffalo tried using familiar anticancer chemicals-but he used them in an unfamiliar manner...
...they are sure just what form of the disease they are dealing with. The ointments do no good against melanoma, for example, and their misuse could lead to fatal neglect of this highly malignant cancer. Nor should they be used on the patient with a single, isolated basal or squamous cell carcinoma, because these cases are treated more effectively, and more simply, by X rays or surgery...
...have devoted myself to the study and practice of medicine with particular emphasis on gynecological and obstetrical pathology. It has been my experience that public officials tend to make a great deal of fuss about what is, after all, the exfoliation of a very modest amount of stratified, squamous epithellum. I trust that I am not so scleroic that I cannot side with hot-blooded undergradu ates on this issue. Each man and woman should be guided by his or her individual conscience, nothing more. William B. Ober...
Excuse for Dreams. In the nasty story -this may as well be the name of Fiedler's genre-the author describes a heroine's skin only to note that it is either squamous, greasy or pocked (Fiedler: "her granulated eyelids pink and on her lip a slight rash left by her depilatory"). Undigested lumps of Marx and Freud swallowed in youth appear to catalyze these prosy nightmares. Sex, particularly, is constantly talked of, snickered at and attempted-and, of course, it is always unpleasant and unsuccessful. Fiedler's specialty is the small, perfect detail, like the tuft...
...John in-just barely-a pair of pink slacks. These wonders notwithstanding, the most intriguing performers, as is only proper in a Good-Lord-Professor-Can-It-Be? film, are several dinosaurs. Their eyes blaze, their mattress-sized tongues flick menacingly, and their lank green hides glisten in squamous grandeur. They thrash about like lovers in a French art film, roar like convention orators and, when they are hungry, give new depth and meaning to scenery chewing. When two of them duel, Fairbanks-fashion, on the edge of a cliff, they very nearly succeed in bringing to life this tired...