Showing posts with label Asian Americans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Asian Americans. Show all posts

May 3, 2010

In Ads, Plea for Asians to Get Tests for Hepatitis - NYTimes.com

SF Hep B Free logo.Image via Wikipedia

SAN FRANCISCO — It is an image both shocking and strangely serene: 10 beauty queens, each with a broad smile, sparkling earrings and a beautiful gown. And written across the bottom of the photograph is a simple, stark question.

“Which one,” it reads, “deserves to die?”

The image is part of a provocative advertising campaign by San Francisco Hep B Free, which aims to eradicate the disease with citywide vaccinations against hepatitis B. The campaign debuts here in print and on television this week and is aimed at jarring the city’s large Asian population into confronting the stubborn public health hazard of hepatitis B.

San Francisco health officials estimate that as many as 1 in 10 residents of Asian descent are infected with the virus here, a percentage that contributes to the nation’s highest rate of liver cancer, an unhappy distinction for a city that prides itself on its innovative universal health plan as well as its response to past epidemics like AIDS. In the general population, about 1 in 1,000 people are infected with hepatitis B, which attacks the liver.

A large part of the problem, according to leaders in the Chinese-American community, which is the largest Asian ethnicity here, is the stigma attached to the disease, which is endemic in much of Asia. The advertisements encourage people to get a “simple blood test” because “hepatitis B can be treated, even prevented.”

“We are not a confrontational group,” said Fiona Ma, a state assemblywoman from San Francisco, who is Chinese-American. “No one wants to talk about it. But we know that people care about their families and their friends. And maybe if they know it can affect them, then maybe they’ll talk about it.”

Ms. Ma knows of what she speaks; several years ago, she learned she had hepatitis B, which she apparently contracted from her mother. The virus that causes the disease can be spread through blood or other bodily fluids, said Dr. Edward A. Chow, vice president of the San Francisco Health Commission, who said that the disease often displays few symptoms in its carriers.

“It doesn’t manifest itself until it’s really too late,” said Dr. Chow, who said about 25 percent of patients, if untreated, develop serious ailments like liver failure.

The campaign’s confrontational approach has ruffled some feathers. Vicky M. Wong, the president and chief executive of DAE, the San Francisco firm that developed the ads, said that several of the beauty queen models walked out of the photo sessions because they were worried about its approach.

“There were so many debates as to whether ‘Are we going too far, is this right or not?’ ” said Ms. Wong, whose company specializes in campaigns geared to Asian audiences. “We got a lot of pushback. But there’s a lot of people who loved it.”

Ted Fang, a committee member for Hep B Free, said the high rate of infection among Asians here has been especially frustrating considering that a vaccine for the disease has existed for nearly 30 years.

“We have the medical tools, so long as doctors will test their patients and monitor them,” Mr. Fang said. “We can knock out this disease.”

Mr. Fang and others liken the city’s efforts to the battle against AIDS, which ravaged San Francisco and its gay community in the 1980s and 1990s and also inspired in-your-face tactics. The Hep B Free program began several years ago with a more gentle campaign — the tagline was “B A Hero” — but organizers said it had gone only so far.

“Saying ‘Life is beautiful; get tested,’ doesn’t work,” Ms. Wong said.

For the “Which one deserves to die?” campaign Ms. Wong enlisted volunteers from the Asian community to pose for photographs, depicting families, a basketball team, a group of doctors and office workers.

While the campaign is being published in several languages — including Chinese, Korean and Vietnamese — a target group is English-speaking doctors, outside the Asian community, who might not be aware of the prevalence of the disease.

“Within our ethnic groups, we are all aware of this, because we all have friends and families who have it,” Dr. Chow said. “But if you are a very busy practitioner who has a lot of different types of patients, you may not know to check at first.”

For Ms. Ma, the assemblywoman, who said she discovered she was positive for hepatitis B when she tried to donate blood, her goal was to bring the disease “above ground,” she said. And it is personal: while she is in good health, her mother, who is in her 70s, had part of her liver removed as a result of the disease.

She recovered, Ms. Ma said, but others she knew have not.

“It’s a silent killer,” she said.


Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Apr 17, 2010

Senate Judiciary Republicans ask pointed questions of appeals court nominee Goodwin Liu

Scales Of JusticeImage by vaXzine via Flickr

By Ben Pershing
Washington Post staff writer
Saturday, April 17, 2010; A02

Senate Republicans mounted a concerted attack Friday on federal appeals court nominee Goodwin Liu in a session that both parties see as a warmup for the coming fight to replace Justice John Paul Stevens on the Supreme Court.

Liu, an associate dean at the University of California at Berkeley law school, is being vetted by the Senate Judiciary Committee for a slot on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 9th Circuit, which covers nine Western states. Groups on the left strongly support him and many on the right oppose him for the same reason: Liu is an outspoken liberal whose writings have promoted the idea that interpreting the Constitution requires much more than just divining the intent of the Founding Fathers.

In their interrogation of Liu, Senate Republicans are testing arguments they will use when President Obama nominates a successor to Stevens, who has declared his intention to step down from the high court in the coming months. Many Democrats hope Obama will name an outspoken liberal in the mold of Liu, and they plan to mount a vigorous defense of the 9th Circuit nominee to demonstrate that such a candidate can clear the Senate gauntlet.

At the hearing, Republicans attacked Liu on three fronts -- his writings, his experience and his incomplete submission of biographical information to the committee. Jeff Sessions (Ala.), the ranking Republican on the committee, made clear his belief that Liu's writings "represent, I think, the very vanguard of what I would call intellectual judicial activism."

Sessions said Liu would look at the Constitution and "find rights there that have never been found before."

Sen. Orrin G. Hatch (R-Utah) suggested that Liu endorsed allowing judges to disregard the plain meaning of statutes in favor of their personal views. "Do you really think that judges should have this much power over the law?" Hatch asked.

Liu parried Republicans' charges with nuanced answers, saying he found both the "originalist" and "judicial activist" labels insufficiently precise to be useful. Liu said the original intent of the Constitution's framers was "very important" for judges to consider, but "it is not the sole touchstone" of legal interpretation.

Faced with Republicans' citation of several potentially controversial passages in his past writings, Liu made clear that there was a difference between his duties as a law professor and scholar vs. what his responsibilities would be on the bench.

"Whatever I may have written in the books and the articles would have no bearing on my action as a judge," Liu said.

Republicans, particularly Sen. Jon Kyl (Ariz.), were critical of Liu for his past opposition to the Supreme Court nominations of John G. Roberts Jr. and Samuel A. Alito Jr. They focused on a passage from Liu's testimony to the Judiciary Committee during Alito's confirmation, which read: "Judge Alito's record envisions an America where police may shoot and kill an unarmed boy to stop him from running away with a stolen purse; where federal agents may point guns at ordinary citizens during a raid, even after no sign of resistance; . . . where a black man may be sentenced to death by an all-white jury for killing a white man."

"This calls into question your judicial temperament," Kyl said, later adding: "I see it as very vicious and emotionally and racially charged. Very intemperate."

Liu acknowledged using "overly flowery language" but largely stood by his comments. He also compared himself to Alito, noting that both are from immigrant families and have worked their way up from humble origins.

Liu is seen in some quarters as a potential future candidate for the Supreme Court. Liu, the son of Taiwanese immigrants, was a Rhodes scholar and Supreme Court clerk before assuming his current position at Berkeley. No Asian American has served on the Supreme Court, nor are there any Asian Americans among the active judges on the U.S. circuit courts of appeal.

Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-Calif.), who chaired Friday's hearing and urged Obama to nominate Liu, cited Liu's personal and professional background to make the case for his confirmation in opening remarks at the hearing.

"He has an exceptional legal mind and a deep devotion to excellence in public service," Feinstein said, later adding of the 39-year-old Liu: "I cannot in my time on this committee remember someone quite so young who has done so much."

Republicans had sought to postpone Friday's hearing, with Sessions complaining that Liu omitted several important facts and documents in completing his original questionnaire for the committee.

Liu apologized, calling the omissions innocent mistakes. "My record is an open book," Liu said Friday. "I absolutely have no intention . . . to conceal things that I have said, written or done."

Liu's nomination awaits an as yet unscheduled committee vote before it can proceed to the Senate floor. Democratic leaders hope to move a number of lesser judicial nominations before the fight over Stevens's replacement consumes the chamber's attention, but they have yet to decide which nominees will move when.

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Apr 5, 2010

Grouping All Asians Together Could Be Bad For Health - NAM

29th Asian Pacific American Heritage FestivalImage by Asian/Pacific American Heritage Festival via Flickr

New America Media, News Report, Paul Kleyman, Apr 05, 2010

Asian Americans as a group are half as likely as non-Hispanic whites to die from heart disease. But Native Hawaiians are 40 percent more apt to suffer from heart disease than whites. That’s just one example of a health threat that gets lost when all Asians are statistically blended into the category “Asian Americans, Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders (AA/NHPI).”

The May 2010 issue of the American Journal of Public Health is entirely devoted to health concerns for AA/NHPI populations and is being hailed as a milestone for showing that bundling statistics for all Asians projects, according to a University of Toronto study, an “inaccurate and misleading” picture, which “fails to identify particularly vulnerable groups.”

“We’re constantly being lumped together as the ‘model minority’ that has fewer health problems than other groups,” explained Marguerite J. Ro, deputy director of the Asian & Pacific Islander American Health Forum (APIAHF) in San Francisco.

Although many group differences seem obvious, the common practice of statistical blending in health studies tends to wash out critical differences that would give public health experts information they need to target research and community programs effectively.

For example, Ro said, aggregating so many groups masks Pacific Islander health disparities. “That makes them a minority within an already invisible minority,” she stated.

Among other sharp differences examined in the journal between “Asian” groups are that older Filipinos in the United States stand a far greater chance of being disabled than Japanese Americans, Vietnamese seniors are far more likely than Koreans and “Asians” in general to incur Alzheimer’s disease and other cognitive problems, and Hmong in California experience rates of liver and cervical cancer triple or quadruple those of other AA/NHPI groups.

One study by Scarlett Lin Gomez and colleagues at the Cancer Prevention Institute of California (CPIC) notes that past breast cancer research failed to consider differences in Asian ethnicity or immigrant status. Because group-specific data within Asian groups is unavailable, they wrote, “health disparities experienced within Asian communities in the U.S. have been largely overlooked.”

According to Gomez and her coauthors, Asian American women are the only ethnic group for which cancer is the leading cause of death, outweighing heart disease. Breast cancer is the second leading cause of cancer death in these women. Yet the lack of group-specific data has obscured especially vulnerable populations that health care professionals should target for screening and treatment. For instance, while Japanese-American women born in the United States have a lower incidence of breast cancer than non-Hispanic white women, Filipinas had poorer five-year survival rates and greater development of late stages of the cancer that were comparable to African American women. The study notes that "explanations for the ethnic differences in breast cancer survival in Asians have not been carefully studied."

Gomez’s study determined that Asian-born women in the United States, especially those from Vietnam, China and the Philippines, are at higher risk of dying of developing breast cancer than U.S.-born Asian Americans, with Vietnamese women being the most vulnerable. These findings contradict the popular perception that the burden of breast cancer is universally low among Asian women, Gomez said.

In fact, a University of Toronto study found that there was more variation in disability rates among elderly AA/NHPI groups than between the white and the aggregated Asian group.

For example, the prevalence of Alzheimer’s disease and other cognitive problems was very slight between whites and all Asians. But Vietnamese people 55 and older had significantly higher levels of cognitive difficulties and more than twice the prevalence rate of Koreans.

Unpacking the statistics pertaining to different groups subsumed into the Asian label could also mean more ethnic specific outreach. A report from CPIC revealed the public-health power of ethnic-specific media outreach. Better community education through targeted brochures and use of ethnic media dramatically increased life-saving tests for colorectal cancer (CRC) among Vietnamese Americans ages 50-74.

CPIC’s Bang H. Nguyen and his team focused on older Vietnamese Americans and worked with Vietnamese print, radio and television media in Santa Clara County to develop articles and place ads featuring Vietnamese media personalities, cancer survivors, health community members and health providers. They produced a professional bilingual booklet titled Kham Ruot Gia De Song Tho (For Long Life, Test Colon). They also staffed a bilingual telephone hotline and held programs to educate health providers.

During the two-year project and follow-up survey, the Institute’s researchers found that the California effort boosted CRC screenings by 40 percent more than in the large Vietnamese community of the Houston, Texas area, where there was no cancer-screening effort.

Nguyen concluded that outreach to Vietnamese Americans and other racial and ethnic, poor or immigrant communities “could be applied to other forms of cancer, cardiovascular disease, tobacco, diabetes and obesity control.”

One of the Toronto researchers, Sarah Brennenstuhl, advised in an interview that when AA/NHPI seniors and their family members see a doctor or other health care professional, they should make sure “the person is not making silly assumptions. They shouldn’t assume there’s no need to screen for certain conditions. People should discuss this variability among Asians with their health care professionals.”
Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Jan 21, 2010

Scientist David Ho: The Man Who Could Beat AIDS

International AIDS Vaccine InitiativeImage via Wikipedia

by Alice Park

Dr. David Ho was sitting in the audience during an AIDS meeting in 2007 when the presenter flashed a cartoon onscreen to make a point. Along with his colleagues, Ho chuckled at the image of a blindfolded baseball player swinging mightily at an incoming pitch. But as amused as the scientists were, they were sobered too; they knew that the player in the cartoon was them. A swing and a miss, the image was saying, one of many in the long battle against AIDS.

Ho certainly got the message. For nearly a quarter of a century, he and other AIDS scientists had been whiffing repeatedly, failing to make contact as HIV stymied them again and again. Powerful drugs to foil HIV could do only so much. To corral the epidemic and truly prevent HIV, only a vaccine would do. The problem was that no vaccine strategy had ever succeeded in blocking the virus from infecting new hosts, and that wasn't likely to change in the near future. "It struck a special chord with me," says Ho of the baseball image. "I think it accurately pictured our chance of success. We all felt that frustration." (See the top 10 medical breakthroughs of 2009.)

The HIV VaccineImage by GDS Digital via Flickr

Since that meeting, much has changed, but the fundamental problem of developing an effective AIDS vaccine remains. On the positive side, in 2009, scientists announced that they had developed the first vaccine to show any effect against HIV infection — although that effect is, by all measures, modest. The vaccine's ability to reduce the risk of new HIV infection 31% is nowhere near the 70% to 90% that public-health experts normally view as a minimum threshold for an infectious-disease vaccine. Even further behind in development, but still promising, are two new antibodies identified by a group of researchers working at a number of labs that, at least in a dish, seem to neutralize the virus and thwart attempts to infect healthy cells.

The excitement over those advances, however, has been tempered by the still raw memories of a humbling retreat in 2007, after a highly anticipated shot against the virus was deemed a failure. While nobody expected spectacular results, neither did anyone expect such a stunning defeat, and the scientific community is still struggling to recover from it. "We are still a long ways away from having an effective HIV vaccine that physicians can reach into the cabinet and pull out in a vial and inject into a person," says Dr. Bruce Walker, an HIV expert at Harvard Medical School. (See the top 10 scientific discoveries of 2009.)

That may be true, but Ho, who has been working to develop an HIV vaccine of his own, now believes that a traditional shot, one that relies on snippets of a virus to both awaken and prod the immune system to churn out antibodies, may not be the best way to fight HIV. Rather than expecting the body to do all the work of first recognizing then mounting an attack against the virus, why not just present the body with a ready-made arsenal of antibodies that can home in on HIV? It's the immunological equivalent of a frozen dinner; the already cooked antibodies eliminate all the hard work of prepping and priming the immune system to do battle.

It's a bold strategy and one that has never been tried before in the AIDS field, but Ho is willing to stake his reputation and that of his nearly 20-year-old facility, the Aaron Diamond AIDS Research Center (ADARC) in New York City, on his hunch. So is the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, which has steered nearly $7 million his way to pursue the theory. Ho has redirected more than half of his lab to the project, and the results so far have reignited his passion for discovery; he's now back at the lab bench overseeing experiments.

Ho can't help breaking into a grin whenever he discusses the new project, and smiles haven't come easily to him of late. In the 1990s, he and ADARC established themselves as leaders in the AIDS field by pioneering the early use of the antiretroviral (ARV) cocktails that have reduced the death rate from AIDS (for which Ho was named TIME's Person of the Year in 1996). But in recent years, the center has suffered a series of setbacks, including a scientific paper that required a partial retraction, and the departure of key scientists. These challenges have some in the field wondering whether ADARC — and its golden-boy director — are on the verge of the next big breakthrough in AIDS or are wandering down yet another detour in the long and maddening fight against the disease.

First Responder
Whatever successes Ho does or doesn't have ahead of him, he long ago earned his credentials in the AIDS field. As a physician at the University of California, Los Angeles, in the early 1980s, he began keeping a diary of patients who were rushed to the emergency room with a mysterious amalgam of symptoms such as pneumonia, cancer and, most important, a devastating drop in immune function. After a few months, he noticed a pattern: most of the patients were gay men. Intrigued, he became nearly obsessive about chronicling the growing wave of cases. Within two years, Ho and the rest of the world would know that they were seeing the first cases of AIDS.

See pictures of Africa's AIDS crisis.

See what the selection meant to past Persons of the Year.

Ho's preoccupation with HIV only grew as the virus continued to baffle scientists. Expecting the unexpected was the best way to confront HIV, he soon learned, and he quickly amassed an impressive array of scientific firsts in the field. As director of ADARC, which was founded in 1991 and was one of the first research centers dedicated solely to the study of AIDS, he led a team that pioneered the "hit 'em early and hit 'em hard" approach to drug therapy, now the core of the ARV-cocktail treatment that is keeping millions of HIV-positive patients alive. His lab showed how HIV therapies would be most effective in the days and weeks immediately after HIV infected a new host. That understanding came from their breakthrough finding that rather than sitting latent for years after infection, as many experts believed at the time, HIV was actively challenging the immune system from Day One. Soon after that revelation, ADARC scientists were the first to add to existing data on how HIV worked by identifying a second, key receptor that the virus uses to invade cells.

Vaccines in Vain
But while AIDS scientists began making inroads in developing drug therapies, designing a vaccine was proving nearly impossible. Despite all that they have learned about HIV, experts are still missing one essential ingredient: to this day, they do not know exactly what cells or immune responses could protect the body from HIV infection. Could an antibody that binds to and neutralizes the virus do the trick? Are T cells, specially formulated to recognize portions of HIV's surface proteins, the solution? Or, as many experts now suspect, is some elusive combination of those factors the key to outwitting HIV? (See TIME's photo-essay "Access to Life.")

Without an answer, developing vaccines is a very halting process. "The virus is a moving target," says Dr. Gary Nabel, director of the Vaccine Research Center at the National Institutes of Health (NIH). "It is constantly changing its genetic makeup through mutations. It's also a moving target because the proteins of the virus surface are actually moving themselves — they are conformationally flexible. The net result is that the immune system never gets a really good look at them."

It didn't take long before these futile efforts began to wear on the researchers in the field, not least of all those at ADARC, where Ho's group was attempting to develop its own vaccine — with little success. The center — which had earned such laurels for its ARV triumph — began to suffer a scientific slump and lack of direction, according to those who left in the early 2000s. Some blame Ho's management style, which, they say, changed in the aftermath of media attention that came with his recognition as Person of the Year. They describe a highly competitive atmosphere in which members scrambled to claim key projects and kept certain studies under wraps out of fear that colleagues would poach their ideas. Frustrated, several high-level faculty members, none of whom agreed to be quoted by name, decamped. (Watch TIME's video "New Hope for Kids with AIDS.")

"ADARC was a great experience," says one, who now heads an immunology lab at a major university. "Those were really great times, and you don't experience them often in an academic career. The structure put in place for the first few years was magnificent and very collegial. But unfortunately the happy ending didn't go forth."

The malaise at the lab, which Ho attributes to personality conflicts among the faculty, began to infect the quality of the science. In 2002, Ho generated headlines when he thought he had found the X factor made by immune cells that protected some people from developing AIDS. It turned out, however, that his conclusion was premature. Other cells had contaminated his results, and he was forced to issue a "retraction of an interpretation" of the paper describing the study. "It was an embarrassing moment for us, but we fixed it ourselves," says Ho. "It was certainly a low point in our history here."

ADARC had plenty of company. Vaccine efforts were progressing elsewhere in the AIDS community, but unevenly. Testing for one candidate, made by Merck, began in 2004 with much fanfare and ended three years later with disappointing results: not only had the vaccine not offered protection against HIV infection, but it actually seemed to increase the risk for some people. Because of the Merck results, the NIH, which had a similar vaccine in the works, put off plans for its own study.

"The year to two years after the disclosure of those results had to be among the most bleak of times for AIDS-vaccine scientists," says Nabel. "We questioned just about everything we were doing."

The Clouds Part
But by early 2007, Ho had already glimpsed the possibility of an answer. In Houston the biotech firm Tanox had developed a compound that it thought might interest him. Ho knew Tanox well. He is a friend of one of the company's co-founders and is a member of its scientific-advisory board, so if the scientists there thought they were onto something, he suspected it was worth a look.

Download TIME's iPhone and BlackBerry application.

See the top 10 everything of 2009.

He flew to Houston, where he was given a briefing on a new agent called ibalizumab, an antibody that appeared able to block HIV's entry into healthy cells. In the 200 or so HIV-positive patients tested in the early trial, the compound was effective, but Tanox was worried about resistance. No matter how promising ARV drugs were, HIV inevitably found a way to evade them. So while the agent seemed to reduce the burden of virus in the blood up to 90% in patients with full-blown AIDS, no one knew how long the viral standoff would last. The company's leaders wanted Ho's opinion on whether the agent was worth developing further.

Looking at the numbers, Ho saw more than just another member of the growing arsenal of ARV cocktails. Each of the ARVs focuses on thwarting just one of several different steps in HIV's infection process. Ibalizumab works at the critical juncture where the virus meets a healthy CD4 cell — a critical component of the immune system — essentially interposing itself between the two and preventing infection. If ibalizumab was so good at tamping down HIV in AIDS patients who were already infected, then maybe it could be tweaked to prevent AIDS in the first place. In other words, maybe it could become a vaccine — just a whole different kind of vaccine that bypassed the traditional, and frustrating, process of figuring out what the immune system needs to fight HIV. (See pictures of the Red Cross.)

Ho didn't even wait to leave the meeting before phoning his lab with instructions to investigate the literature on ibalizumab. "He was so excited about it," says Yaoxing Huang, who received the call and is now one of the two researchers Ho has diverted to investigating the compound. Barely three years later, that initial enthusiasm has only grown, spreading throughout the labs that occupy two floors at ADARC's Lower East Side facility.

What the ADARC scientists are struggling to achieve is a thorough understanding of how ibalizumab operates and how they can control those machinations. The CD4 cell is a bit like an immunological sentinel, endowed with the ability to recognize snippets of various pathogens, from common influenza to HIV, and mark them for destruction by other cells. Once attached to a CD4, HIV begins an intricate series of steps to gain entry into the cell. Ibalizumab is able to disrupt this intricate molecular choreography by binding to the CD4 and serving as an immunological snare. With the antibody stuck to the CD4 receptor, the virus is physically unable to complete the necessary contortions it must perform to slide into the cell and take over its genetic machinery to pump out more virus.

That's the beautifully elegant scenario that attracted Ho to the antibody, but the problem is that tying up CD4 this way may not be such a good idea. Taking so many of the body's essential defense cells out of commission means the patient may be left vulnerable to any number of other infectious agents — exactly the immunocompromised position that AIDS patients are trying to avoid. That was the fear that Ho's lab members expressed when he broached the idea.

"My initial reaction was, Are you crazy?" recalls Sandy Vasan, a researcher at ADARC who, along with Ho and Huang, is now heading the ibalizumab studies. A clinician who sees patients, Vasan says, "It's really scary to want to put an antibody on CD4. You need CD4." (See "The Year in Health 2009: From A to Z.")

But Ho believes ibalizumab is more agile than that. CD4, it turns out, is like a marina with several docks; HIV berths in one, and ibalizumab in another, leaving the cell free to fight other pathogens. "If CD4's binding site to HIV is with its nose, then this antibody is binding to the back of CD4's neck," Ho says. That means the cell's ability to function as a pathogen troller is not impaired by being coupled to ibalizumab. "There is a solid scientific rationale for what they are attempting to do," says Harvard's Walker.

The lab is now working with monkeys to test whether ibalizumab can head off infection not just with the notoriously weaker lab strains of HIV but also but with naturally circulating strains as well. The idea is to hit the antibody with the most potent HIV around, so if the strategy doesn't work, Ho can shut down the project, before it gets too far along.

Ho is hoping it won't come to that. He is not under any illusion that a successful antibody-based treatment will have the sweeping effect of the polio or measles or smallpox vaccines — essentially wiping out the diseases in treated populations. Instead, an ibalizumab-based therapy will be just one of many weapons against HIV, albeit a very powerful one. "At our first meeting on this, I said I have a strategy that I feel will work," Ho recalls. "It was truly my gut feeling."

It takes more than instinct to make good science, of course, and Ho is keenly aware of that. But like a talented batter, he's hoping that a combination of intuition and technical skill will guide him to make contact. A solid hit would be nice — but Ho is still trying for a home run.

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Aug 5, 2009

Friends and Family Look Forward to Detained Journalists' Return

By Karl Vick
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, August 5, 2009

LOS ANGELES, Aug. 4 -- One woman approached China's border with North Korea as a seasoned foreign correspondent, the other as a sharp editor who was on her first trip abroad in her new role as a producer.

Laura Ling, 32, one of the two American journalists released by North Korea on Tuesday after five months in captivity, had reported from Sri Lanka, Iran, Brazil, Pakistan and Eastern Europe, among other places.

"She knows her way around the world," said Morgan Wandell, who supervised Ling at San Francisco-based Current TV after working with her at another startup, the Channel One news outlet that is broadcast into classrooms. "And she's a smart, prepared journalist. One of the things I take a little bit of issue with, she's not a cavalier risk-taker at all. She's very smart, and while she's curious and ambitious, she knows her limits, and she's certainly not a cowboy."

Euna Lee, 36, had been a standout editor at Current TV, the cable and Web network co-founded by former vice president Al Gore, and was breaking into producing via the route that had worked for Ling a decade earlier: hard work backed by language skills and cultural knowledge that could add immense value to a story that demanded discretion and delicacy. The women had traveled to the Chinese border with North Korea, where they were preparing a report about North Korean refugees.

"It was unfortunately her first assignment," said Annika Mandel, who was hired as a writer-producer at Current in 2005, about the same time Lee came on as a video editor, the person who ties reports together.

"She was the editor we all wanted to work with," said Mandel, who now works for a health insurer. "I knew that if I worked with her, my work was going to be 10 times better than if I was going to do it myself. She brought a really critical, creative eye to things."

Friends said they expected the women to arrive in Los Angeles on Wednesday on the plane carrying former president Bill Clinton, who arranged their release Tuesday during a trip to Pyongyang.

"We are counting the seconds to hold Laura and Euna in our arms," said a statement from their families, whose united effort to free the women displayed the qualities -- discipline, determination and devotion -- that friends said marked the captives' lives.

"We especially want to thank President Bill Clinton for taking on such an arduous mission and Vice President Al Gore for his tireless efforts to bring Laura and Euna home," the statement said. "We must also thank all the people who have supported our families through this ordeal, it has meant the world to us."

Gore and Current co-founder Joel Hyatt released a statement through the network Tuesday night, saying they were "overjoyed" at the women's release. "Our hearts go out to them -- and to their families -- for persevering through this horrible experience," they added.

In Los Angeles, Lee will reunite with her husband, actor Michael Saldate, and their daughter, Hanna, 4. Lee's parents live in Seoul, the South Korean capital, where she grew up. She has two sisters in the United States, where she attended college.

"She has a little bit of an accent," Mandel said.

Ling will see her husband, Iain Clayton, a British-born investment banker who has said that he wrote her a letter every day of the five months she was captive. Wandell said the two met in college on a concert date that went so well that Ling purposely left her ID in his borrowed jacket "so she had an excuse for contacting him."

"We have been together for 12 years and this is the longest I've gone without hearing her voice," Clayton wrote on a blog for CNN's "Larry King Live." Many family members appeared on that program in late May when they judged that going public might help the women. After North Korea sentenced the women to 12 years of hard labor, the families largely withdrew again, following the advice of experts including Gore.

"There was a strategy for a long time to keep things sort of low-key," Mandel said. "They didn't want to make them any more marketable as detainees than they already were."

Ling grew up in the Sacramento suburb of Fair Oaks. Her father, a second-generation Chinese American, was a military contractor; her mother was born in Taiwan. At Del Campo High School, her sister, Lisa, was on her way to success as a TV journalist on a program, "Scratch," that went national, said Jim Jordan, who taught Laura Ling honors English her junior year.

Lisa Ling went on to National Geographic, "Oprah" and "The View," but, Jordan said, "I wouldn't say Laura was in her shadow." Friends and relatives describe the sisters as best friends.

"Laura was always just really secure," said Angie Wang, a cousin. "She knew who she was."

The sisters helped each other. When Gotham Chopra, a producer at Channel One, was preparing to travel to China for a story in 1999, he told Lisa that he needed an interpreter. She recommended Laura, fresh from UCLA and fluent in Mandarin. By trip's end, Channel One had offered her a full-time job.

On the trip to the North Korean border, Lee was following the same path into producing. Fluent in the refugees' language, "her Korean would be very helpful," Mandel said. Plus, she was a good listener.

"If you're ever having a problem, you can go to Euna and just vent, and she validates your feelings and helps you get through a hard time." Mandel said.

"She's a devoted worker and a devoted family person and just a sweet soul. A very sweet soul."