Word: glands
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...recently undergone a PSA (prostate-specific antigen) test and registered a count of only 1.8, well below the level considered indicative of cancer. But to play it safe, the urologist performed an ultrasound exam ("It looks like a stone," he reassured the general), took a biopsy of the prostate gland and sent it off to a pathologist. Schwarzkopf left the hospital relaxed and optimistic. But a week later, the doctor called, paused and then said, "I don't know how to tell you this, but you have prostate cancer...
...Sunset Boulevard with an ocelot. He doesn't even have a Filipino houseboy. This is a movie star? He goes to P.T.A. meetings. He has been married to the same woman for 15 years. His swimming pool is not in the shape of a grand piano or a thyroid gland. And have you heard? He wears the tops and bottoms of his pajamas, both...
...WANTS TO BELIEVE IN THE health benefits of melatonin more than Fred Turek. A neurobiologist at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois, Turek has devoted two decades of his life to studying this naturally occurring substance produced by the pineal gland. He feels certain that it functions as the body's own safe and highly effective sleeping potion. But lately Turek can't shake the feeling that the world has gone melatonin mad. Based on the flimsiest scientific evidence, the subject of his research is now being trumpeted in books and magazines and on television as a cure for everything from...
MORRIS (MICKEY) SABBATH is a 64-year-old former puppeteer with a prostate gland that belongs in the urology hall of fame. In addition, the randy creation of Philip Roth's new comic novel, Sabbath's Theater (Houghton Mifflin; 451 pages; $24.95), is an Olympic-class misanthrope, an example of homo invectus so addicted to wrath that he rejects suicide on the ground that "everything he hated was here...
Morris (Mickey) Sabbath is a 64-year-old former puppeteer with a prostate gland that belongs in the Urology Hall of Fame. In addition, the randy creation of Philip Roth's new comic novel (Houghton Mifflin; 451 pages; $24.95), is an Olympic-class misanthrope, an example of homo invectus so addicted to wrath that he rejects suicide on the ground that "everything he hated was here." "Roth still has the power to shock and amaze, although he's lost some of the fresh manic energy of 'Portnoy's Complaint' (1969)," notes TIME's R.Z. Sheppard. "Some readers will find...