Few people bat an eye when high-profile leaders such as Sen. Edward Kennedy travel far from home to seek medical care for a life-threatening condition. He has access, name recognition, resources -- of course he'd be able to identify, and get, the best possible treatment for his brain tumor.
The Health section could have done a story on the doctors involved or on Kennedy's condition. Either would have been relevant to some people and simply interesting to others. But what is most relevant to the most readers is how they too can get the best care possible. That's why we wrote this week's story, Patients go on a quest for the best medical care.
Not only can average Americans get such care for unusual or high-risk conditions, they routinely do so. First they have to gather information about their condition, compile treatment data, identify the practitioners or institution that might be able to help, set up various consultations and then convince the insurers involved. None of this is easy.
That's not to say everyone should go off in search of experimental treatment and decide they want a specific therapy regardless of whether it's appropriate. Doctors play a crucial role. And, often, traditional care is most appropriate.
But at the end of the day, it's the patient's health, the patient's life, at stake. Tales of those who fought for what they thought was best -- and prevailed -- are legion.
So at those times when you're on your own, it's good to know you have the resources and the ability to take charge, to find out what's right for you and to push for it. We tell you how.
They're quirky. There's a good chance they have bad backs. And if they haven't gotten in the way of your road-hogging, belly-fat-inducing car or SUV (are you still driving that thing?), they probably will. They're recumbent cyclists -- and they're here to show us the way.
Recumbent proselytizer Jonathan Dietch took reporter Janet Cromley along for a spin recently on his tandem. (She learned that 1] recumbent biking is fun and 2] cleaning mud off a video camera is difficult.) He and other enthusiasts say that unlike road bikes, recumbents stand out. That's true -- as has been the contention that the bikes are gonna take off among a mass audience. (Any time now. Really. The public is ready. Wait and see... ) That possibility is one of the reasons we wrote the story.
With baby boomers hitting middle age and aware of the price of inactivity -- as well as the price of gas, recumbent bikes are a less traditional, more attention-getting way of hitting the road in a healthy way. The machines are easier on the spine, hips, wrists, shoulders and neck than traditional bikes, but no less obsession-inducing for that.
Their owners can be just as gear-focused as their more upright brethren and, with fewer numbers, can even consider themselves more elite in a certain sense. And, if what's holding you back is the desire for bragging rights among your clique, note that though the bikes may look laid back, they can cost plenty. They only start at around $600. The status-conscious (sorry, performance-conscious) can still plunk down thousands.
Speed? Not a problem either.
For a nice introduction to the joys of recumbent cycling, check out the Recumbent Blog. The blog closed recently -- the writer rider has moved on -- but it's still an excellent resource. And then there's RecumBum, which bills itself as "the musings of a recumbent bicycle bum."
So if you've been using the "I can't ride my bike because of my knees" excuse, give it up.
That's the Health section for you -- shooting down those I-can't-exercise-because explanations one feeble excuse at a time. (Our other reason for doing the story.)
Genetics-based diet books, revolutionary eating plans, appetite-quelling supplements, metabolism-boosting drinks. ... The Health section could churn out a story every week about the newest products or theories to help readers lose weight. And those would be legitimate stories - useful and relevant and, sometimes, just a snapshot of the consumption-obsessed world in which we live. But an overemphasis on this type of weight-loss story would be doing readers a disservice.
Because losing weight isn't the problem. Almost anybody can do that - with pretty much any diet plan. High protein. Low fat. It doesn't especially matter. But keeping the weight off. ... That's almost impossible. And that's the true problem.
It's so difficult that former dieters either beat themselves up when they regain those pounds, feeling like weak-willed failures, or they give up their weight loss struggle completely.
What we wanted to do is explain why sustained weight loss is so hard, to give context and explanation for the losing battle that so many people face. And what we found, as researchers are learning, is bleak. In short, our bodies are sabotaging us. It wants those pounds back - now. The brain, the metabolism, the hormones and the fat storage system all know the weight was there and they are absolutely desperate to regain it.
This is not an issue of aesthetics. If it were, we wouldn't care that a shocking percentage of the population bears a striking resemblance to Santa Claus. There's a body type to fit every preference and who are we to say which is the most fetching. Mrs. Claus probably thinks Santa's pretty hot, come to think of it. But the flab-related health risks are real - heart disease and Type 2 diabetes and some cancers. And that's just for starters. The likelihood of all these conditions increases with weight.
That's why we wrote the story. All these stories. It's time to understand what we're doing to our bodies with the daily handful of peanut-butter-filled pretzels, the occasional dish of ice cream, the extra slice of pizza or that slice of a co-worker's birthday cake. (Office workers, I'm convinced, age faster than the general population. Everyone seems to get two or three cakes a year.) That type of mindless, casual eating exacts a price for years to come.
If you've been able to overcome that price and thwarted your body's desperate attempts to put the weight back on, tell us, please, how you did it. You're rare. And next week, we'll share some of those stories.
But if, more likely, you encounter the same roadblocks or pitfalls every time you lose weight, ones that cause you to start climbing again, ones that prevent you from ever cleaning the fat clothes from your closet, share your struggles with us. Maybe together we can find a solution.
Facing a possibly fatal condition at any age can be life-changing. But what about people who come of age during this struggle? Does the experience perhaps become life-defining?
Children who survived cancer would know, and it's to them we turned for answers. As the Times article points out, the nation's physicians, nurses and technicians have become considerably more proficient at treating young patients with cancer. Before 1970, most children diagnosed with the disease were also killed by it. Today, nearly 80% are cured.
But that cure comes at a price.
People who have been so dramatically changed by disease -- and the attempts to cure it -- have much to teach us all. We've benefited from the medical lessons of their treatment; now perhaps we can benefit from the emotional lessons as well.
As reporter Susan Brink writes upon learning in the early 1990s that a high percentage of young survivors was developing second cancers, closely related to their initial cures: "I cringed at the unfairness of a child struggling through harsh treatments, only to face an increased risk of having to go through it again as an adult."
She began interviewing survivors of childhood cancer and the physicians who cared for them to see how young adults who had survived cancer were coping and what the medical community was learning from them.
"The young adults I talked with have learned tough lessons early about the fragility of life, lessons that most of us don't have to learn until much later. A lot of years pass between pediatric cancer treatment and the adult onset of late effects of treatment," she says. "So cancer survivors can have a tough time sorting it out -- because science hasn't sorted it all out -- which of their health problems would have come their way anyway and which are directly related to cancer treatment."
She concludes: "Their stories are a stark reminder that medicine can save lives, but seldom without changing them, sometimes in profound and unforeseen ways."
Consumer empowerment has reached new heights -- with average Americans weighing in on professors, plumbers, just about everyone. Most people would say that's a healthy trend, one not without perils for individuals but nevertheless empowering for consumers overall. Now doctors are finding themselves subject to such ratings. And they're squeamish.
It's understandable. Physicians are morally compelled to provide care to even the most combative, unreasonable or irrational patients. And what might they get for their efforts? An anonymous attack for all the world to see.
Reporter Shari Roan had been noticing the growing number of doctor-rating sites (RateMDs.com, Vitals.com, DrScore.com and others) at the same time her eldest daughter was telling her how helpful RateMyProfessors.com is for college kids in signing up for classes. "I started thinking about whether the doctor ratings sites were useful, accurate and fair," she says.
What she found was a public hungry for more complete information about the men and women to whom they entrust their lives. Americans don't apparently believe that medical boards, insurance companies or doctors themselves will tell the truth. And so they've turned to each other.
"What surprised me once I got into reporting the story was how emotional many of the comments are," Roan says. "People are really angry, and my sense is that it reflects the state of healthcare in general."
We understand the pros and cons of this trend -- as, we're sure, do readers. The online world is a risky one, reputation-wise and in terms of accuracy. But patients want -- and need -- as much information as they can get when stepping blindly into the healthcare abyss. They also deserve accurate information.
Like it or not, ratings of everyone are likely here to stay. For them to be truly useful, however, our story suggests that more people -- not fewer people -- need to weigh in. Not just with the bad -- but with the good.
Remember "Science of the orgasm"? It's OK to admit it -- you're far from alone. That February story about the nervous system's role in orgasms set an online readership record for the Health section. Prurient interest didn't seem to be driving the numbers, not completely anyway. The story featured researchers discussing the spinal cord, vagus nerve network and other parts of the nervous system not normally regarded as erotic. Rather, readers seemed genuinely curious about the "why" of it all.
They were almost as curious about love. "This is your brain on love" -- about why people fall in love and what makes it last -- was the second-most popular Health story in the last 12 months among online readers. Its highlights included explanations of the limbic system's role and the relevance of the brain chemicals dopamine, norepinephrine and serotonin.
Now the Health section proves that monitoring online readership pays off. (We will not, however, be offering slide shows from the Westminster dog show. Well, maybe just this once...) Beginning this week, we'll offer a monthly column called The Mating Game. The first installment examines the research behind ScientificMatch.com, a website that promises to winnow your mate options based on genetic compatibility. The basics of attraction, the site's operators contend, are largely based on three genes termed (in non-come-hither fashion) the major histocompatability complex. Those three genes, in essence, might determine the appeal of a potential partner's smell.
Researchers have been studying the whys and hows of mate selection for years, but talk of the mating and dating world has largely amounted to ignore-the-cold-hard-facts-at-all-costs relationship advice or how-to-win-the-person-of-my-dreams wishful (and tiresome) thinking.
We're not going in either of those directions. For relationship advice, ask pretty much anyone (except me -- whatever the question, I assure you, I don't know the answer). For sex advice, check out the absolutely riveting Savage Love over at L.A. Weekly.
But for the science of it all, check out The Mating Game. And maybe the occasional Booster Shots posting.
Some readers may be curious why the Health section does what it does, the reasoning behind in-depth stories on so-called green cleaners, the decline of autopsy rates or what exactly consumers can find through genetic testing (three recent subjects we've explored at length). Many may not give it a second thought, simply choosing to read or to not read, while a few automatically assume nefarious motives (as the occasional churlish missive will allege). But for those genuinely interested in how news decisions are made, we're here to help.
Beginning this week, Booster Shots will offer a behind-the-scenes look at the Health section's featured story. For starters: the benefits, for adults, of their parents' deaths.
Idolize them, resent them or love and respect them (flaws and all), no one remains unaffected by the loss of their parents. Despair, sorrow, regret? We readily acknowledge those emotions. But growth, freedom, newfound control? Though common, they're often unexpected -- because they're not discussed.
A story about these reactions, and their effect, was conceived last fall when Times staff writer Melissa Healy interviewed Jeanne Safer, a New York City therapist, for a story about forgiveness. Melissa recounts:
"The death of parents came up in that conversation. Adult children, it turns out, almost always nurse some longstanding grievance against their parents for wrongs great and small. But when parents die, their grown-up children usually feel compelled to say and think only kind, happy things about them, and they suppress their gnawing hurt. At some point after the funeral, Safer said, that can wreak havoc on their mental health. But it doesn't have to be that way, she said: Your parents' death can be the very thing that makes you happier, stronger, healthier. This was, she told me, the subject of a manuscript she was just then completing. I was intrigued."
As was I. Melissa likes to write about the drama of human milestones, ones we all face, and there is almost nothing more universal than the loss of parents. Both of us were intrigued by the fact that discussions about how we change when we become orphans was a taboo -- one buried in platitudes.
Taboos can frequently make for good stories (you're surprised?), but the best such discussions make people's lives better. They don't titillate or provoke; they inform, enlighten and enrich.
As Melissa adds: "To assert that we could get stronger and better because our parents have died seemed to throw a candor bomb into the usual pious pap we read about grief and mourning. It's just the kind of conversation-starter that makes me love writing for the Los Angeles Times."
And it's the kind of thought-provoking, illuminating story that we think our readers deserve.
Tami Dennis, who takes the word "skeptic" to previously uncharted territory, is editor of The Times' Health section. She's adamant that pitches promoting awareness days, weeks or months are, by their nature, non-stories. And, because she's an adult, she refuses to use words like "veggies," "tummy" and "yummy."
Rosie Mestel, Health section deputy editor, studied genetics before abandoning flies, fungi and DNA for health/medical writing. Her hero is the biologist Ernst Haeckel, whose jellyfish paintings inspired snazzy chandeliers. Her favorite toast-spread is Marmite, a British delicacy made of yeast extract. Her least-favorite word is "millenniums."
Susan Brink has made health and medicine her beat for 26 of her 28 years in the business. She’s covered a wide range of disease and health policy stories, and is always on the lookout for fresh angles. Few things make her happier than busting through preconceived notions to give readers an accurate view of people behaving as…well, real people.
Melissa Healy is a staff writer for the Health section reporting from Washington D.C. Healy's a veteran of The Times' National staff, having covered the Pentagon, Congress, poverty and social welfare, the environment, and the White House before shifting to Health in 2003. She writes frequently about mental health and human behavior, about federal health policy, prescription medication and ethics in medicine. More wonk than wellness freak, Healy chooses to believe in the health benefits of coffee and wine, and considers water a better work-out medium than beverage.
After a brief stint as a sports writer, Shari Roan turned to health journalism and has covered the topic for The Times for 18 years. She is the author of three books and the mother of two daughters, both teenagers who refer to her as a "health freak." She likes to jog, watch baseball and is very happy that dark chocolate contains some health benefit.
Jeannine Stein writes about fitness, sports medicine and obesity for the Health section. She’s a gym rat from way back and never met an elliptical trainer she didn’t like. Well, maybe one or two. She tempers exercise with a steady diet of reality television because she believes it’s all about balance.
Few people bat an eye when high-profile leaders such as Sen. Edward Kennedy travel far from home to seek medical care for a life-threatening condition. He has access, name recognition, resources -- of course he'd be able to identify, and get, the best possible treatment for his brain tumor. 
Some readers may be curious why the Health section does what it does, the reasoning behind in-depth stories on so-called 
