Guardian Angels in the guise of pets ?

[chenrezig]

Using animals to help detect illness may sound like quackery, but it's gaining the backing of scientists.

After a small trial found that specially trained dogs can sniff out prostate cancer in 93 per cent of cases, last month it was announced that Milton Keynes University Hospital had given approval for dogs to be used in an NHS trial. Currently, men suspected of having prostate cancer are given tests that detect levels of a protein called prostate specific antigen (PSA) to see if they require further tests. Yet the PSA is notoriously unreliable and can give false positives. Tests have shown dogs can sniff out tumours with far greater accuracy. One Italian study, involving two Alsatians trained to sniff out cancer, sniffed urine samples from 900 men - 360 with prostate cancer and 540 without - and detected which was which in 97 per cent of cases.

It's not just cancer. Studies have found dogs can detect other illnesses, from diabetic sugar lows to pending epileptic seizures. The reason dogs can do this is that they have astonishingly sensitive noses containing 300 million smell receptors. Humans, by comparison, have only five million

Martin Kelly, 71, was diagnosed with throat cancer after his dog Monty, a miniature bull terrier, kept licking his neck. Martin and his wife Linda, 71, live in Essex. When I look back now, it's as if Monty was supposed to come into our lives - if he hadn't, then I might not be here. He was a ten-month-old pup when we got him, from a friend in Spain who was leaving the country. Despite having dogs all our lives, Linda and I had decided not to get another one because of our age, but one look at Monty and we offered to have him.

He came to us in March 2013 and settled in almost straight away. Though he was Linda's dog really, he followed me around all the time. In the evening, when I was watching TV, he had this habit of hopping up beside me and licking my neck. He did it virtually from the first day he arrived, always licking the same spot on the right side. I noticed I had a small raised swelling where Monty licked me. I thought maybe he had passed on some germs that had caused it, but I wasn't worried as I didn't feel ill and it wasn't tender. It was only the size of a thumbnail. In May 2013, however, I had to go to the doctor about some trivial medical matter and while I was there I asked her if she would take a look at my neck. I was surprised when she said that I should go straight to hospital to see an ear, nose and throat specialist. I saw the words 'Urgent' on my notes, and when you see that, you start to think the worst. They sent me for a biopsy, then I had to go in and see the consultant. It was throat cancer. When they say the word 'cancer', you panic, but it had been caught at the earliest stage. On hearing the news, my wife and I hugged each other and had a little cry, but then I thought: 'I have to get through this.' What was so encouraging was that they said they could cure it. When I got home, Monty was there to comfort me. He kept me going throughout my treatment - it was as if he knew I needed that bit more support. In June 2013, I had surgery to remove the tumour, followed by chemotherapy and 45 days of radiotherapy. It was pretty gruelling, but Monty motivated me to get out of the house, because I still walked him every day. And if it hadn't been for him, I'd have had no idea there was anything wrong until the cancer was much more advanced. Thankfully, the doctors say I'm clear of cancer and I have regular scans. It was such a relief to come out the other side. I thought we had done with adversity, but then, in March this year, Monty disappeared while I was out walking him. It was devastating. We tried all the lost dog charities and put up posters, but I think we'd given up hope of ever having Monty home again. Then, last month, we got a call to say the police had received a tip-off and they thought they had found Monty. We just couldn't believe it. He came back a bit smelly, but as soon as he heard our voices he perked up. It was a very emotional day for us all.

Helen Mason, 38, who lives in Oxfordshire and works in logistics, was diagnosed with breast cancer in July 2011 after her horse, Myrtle, repeatedly nudged her on the chest. My horse knew I had cancer before I did, there's no doubt about it.
There is lots of evidence that horses have a good sense of smell - not quite as good as dogs, but not far behind - and it may be that she could smell the tumour. At the time of my diagnosis, I was feeling absolutely fine, but Myrtle had been repeatedly nuzzling up to my left side. That in itself wasn't strange, but Myrtle usually only nuzzled my right pocket, where I kept her treats. But for a few weeks or so, she nuzzled me whenever I saw her, nudging so hard that it hurt.
It was in August 2011 that I decided to go to the GP. As well as Myrtle's nudges, I had some dimpling on the skin of my left breast and I thought I ought to get it checked out. Looking back, I think it was Myrtle's nudges that encouraged me to go. My doctor referred me to hospital, but I wasn't nervous about it at all. I was only 34 at the time, and although I had lost my mum to cancer - she had died of a brain tumour at the age of 54 - I didn't for one minute think I had cancer. But they sent me for a mammogram and then I had an ultrasound, followed by a needle aspiration, where they use a long needle to take some cells out for laboratory testing. When they tell you have cancer, your world just falls apart. My first reaction was: 'How will I tell my dad?' Although we lost mum back in 1997, our feelings are still raw and the idea that he would then have to deal with another cancer diagnosis was just too awful to take in. During my treatment, Myrtle had to stay at my friend's yard - but the thought of being able to see her and ride her made me get out of the house after each chemotherapy treatment and made me determined to keep strong. I had to have six rounds of chemotherapy to shrink the tumour, which was 4cm in diameter, and then a lumpectomy, followed by radiotherapy.
Thankfully it seems to have worked. I now have a mammogram every year and will take the drug tamoxifen for ten years to prevent a recurrence. During my treatment I made a promise to Myrtle. I would tell her: 'We are going to grow old together' - and it helped me believe that we would.

Kate Arnett, 48, says if it wasn't for her two wonderful dogs Banjo and Ernie she'd now be at best a vegetable. Former commodity broker Kate Arnett, 48, was struggling to breathe when her dogs Banjo and Ernie helped bring her round. Kate is married to Gavin, 43, a contracts manager, and lives in Malvern, Worcestershire. If it wasn't for my two wonderful dogs, I'd now be at best a vegetable, and at worst I'd be dead. I have several autoimmune conditions that stem from the trauma of being run over by a car in 1996. I have inflammatory arthritis in every joint, which has severely reduced my mobility - I use a wheelchair outside the house. I have an autoimmune condition that weakens the tendons and joints, and a syndrome that predisposes me to blood clots and strokes. What's more, in December 2011, doctors told me that the muscles on either side of my diaphragm - the wall of chest muscles that help suck air into the lungs - had been eaten away. This meant my diaphragm was effectively paralysed and I had to start using oxygen. At night, I wear an oxygen mask and, because of reduced lung capacity, have to sleep propped up at a 45-degree angle to get enough air in. My dogs make my life easier. Ernie is a disability assistance dog who has been with me for ten years. He is trained to help me get dressed, help put things in and out of the washing machine, and accompany me when I leave the house. He was due to retire at ten, so two years ago, when Ernie was approaching this age, we got Banjo, hoping he would take over Ernie's duties. The former commodity broker, 48, was struggling to breathe when her dogs helped bring her round
The dogs sleep in my bedroom, with Ernie on my bed and Banjo underneath. On this particular night in March 2013, I had slipped down the bed and my mask had come off. I don't know how long I had been lying like that, but I came round with both dogs frantically licking my face and neck. I don't think I'd have come to otherwise. As I'd been starved of oxygen, I had a terrible headache, couldn't think straight, had no energy and was struggling to breathe. All I could do was to mumble Gavin's name and, luckily, he woke up. As soon as he saw the dogs fussing around me, he raced over and put my oxygen mask back on. What is extraordinary is that the dogs aren't trained to react that way. If they hadn't done what they did, I could have died. I felt very weak for a few days, but it could have been much worse. I am so thankful for what my dogs did.

When Susan Marsh-Armstrong, 51, fell unconscious, her cat Charley got help. Susan lives in Holtwhistle, Northumberland, with her husband Kevin, 51, a bus driver. Since I was 12, I've had type 1 diabetes. It means injecting with insulin twice a day and checking my blood sugar after dinner at night. When it drops too low, I become incoherent, start sweating, feel dizzy and get tunnel vision. It's scary, but usually I have a biscuit and the moment passes. But just before Christmas 2011, I'd had a busy day out shopping. We'd had a sandwich for lunch and at home I just had a salad for dinner. My mind was so full of Christmas planning I forgot to test my blood sugar. I fell into bed exhausted and Charley my cat came up to say goodnight. She's 13 now, but when I got her she was so tiny I had to teach her how to eat.
My husband Kevin tells me that during that night he woke to find Charley tapping him on his face with her paw, which she'd never done before. He tried to shoo her away, but she persisted. Then he noticed that I wasn't in bed. Charley ran to the bathroom, back and forth, trying to guide him until he got the message. Kevin found me on the bathroom floor. He checked my blood sugar - it should have been between five and eight, but it was just above zero. I was in a diabetic coma. He gave me an injection of glucagon to raise my blood glucose levels and made me a very sweet coffee. If Charley hadn't woken Kevin and I'd remained on the floor with my blood sugar sinking for longer, I may have been brain damaged or dead. She saved my life.

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[wendy]

I do believe in this.

[annie]

fantastic

[wendy]

than999