Guest guest Posted October 15, 2003 Report Share Posted October 15, 2003 Mother JonesJan/Feb 1992 TOXIC BREASTS http://www.redflagsweekly.com/toxicbreasts.html Over the course of ten years, one of the most popular breast implants - made of the same industrial foam used in furniture upholstery - was ignored by the FDA, barely tested by its manufacturer, and promoted by doctors who were given shares of the profits. Thousands of women believed the implants were safe. They were wrong. By Nicholas Regush When Sybil Niden Goldrich was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1983, she blamed herself. Her body had failed her. It was embarrassing. No one but her family had to know. " I was certain that everyone would think that my cancer was due to an inability to handle stress, " says Goldrich, now fifty-two. She resolved that she would wear falsies after her double mastectomy until she could find the best plastic surgeon around to reconstruct her breasts. And then she would go on with her life. There seemed to be no reason not to have new breasts. Would any surgeon amputate an arm or a leg and not offer a replacement? " This is why I thought it would be easy to be reconstructed and complete my cancer process, " Goldrich says. She discovered that at least twenty thousand women each year were having their breasts reconstructed with silicone-gel implants following cancer surgery, and another eighty thousand were electing to have implants for cosmetic reasons. Goldrich interviewed three reputable plastic surgeons before settling on Dr. Kurt Wagner; each assured her that the procedure would be simple with very little risk involved. " My surgeon seemed confident, so I too was confident, " she says. But immediately after Wagner inserted the foam-covered implants in July 1983, Goldrich developed an infection. When her bandages were removed over two months later, she had her first good look at herself in the bathroom mirror. " My heart sank, " Goldrich says. " There were two baseball-shaped protrusions from my chest wall and a small red scar clearly visible two inches below them. Those were breasts? They were hard as rocks. Nothing like the milky, flesh-toned breasts that I had expected. " Desolate, she put on her shirt and curled up into a ball on her bed. " I thought of myself as a two-time loser, " she says. " First cancer, and now this. My body had obviously rejected the implant. " Two years later, after five surgeries and countless days of pain and suffering, Goldrich had a different idea of what had gone wrong. By then, news had trickled out about the dangers of breast implants: they hardened, they ruptured, they blocked a mammogram's ability to screen for cancer. Goldrich already had to live with fears about a recurrence of her breast cancer, but now she has a new worry. There is reason to believe that the leakage of silicone and a chemical from the implants' foam could itself cause increased risks of inflammatory diseases or cancer. .. BEHIND THE STORY When reporter Nicholas Regush first co-wrote a documentary for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation on breast implants in 1980, the main controversy was whether the implants were hardening in women's bodies. " There were a lot of people, even plastic surgeons, talking about the need for a moratorium on implants, and the documentary basically highlighted that, " Regush says. The film caused a bit of a stir, but nothing really came of it. Even so, Regush kept his eye on the progress of implants off and on over the course of the decade. Then, in 1988, Dow Corning released a report saying that implants were proving carcinogenic in rats. The day he read the report, Regush went to see one of Montreal's most prominent plastic surgeons, who only wanted to talk about the Même. " The doctor told me he wouldn't implant the Même in any woman, because the company couldn't tell him what happened to the foam in the body, " Regush says. " By the time I'd left the office, I heard enough to make me concerned. " Regush started digging and uncovered Canadian health - department memos indicating a suppressed controversy over the Même. A few weeks later, he came across a University of Florida study showing that the Même's foam released a carcinogenic substance in laboratory tests. In January 1989, Regush published an article in the Montreal Gazette, the first major story to appear anywhere about the Même and its potential cancer risks. The paper was flooded with calls from all over the world requesting copies of the piece, and the debate on the safety of breast implants subsequently landed on the floor of Canada's Parliament. Regush has kept on the story ever since, systematically investigating Surgitek, the Même's most recent manufacturer, as well as the FDA'S history of inattention to implants. He's published about forty news stories on the Même; his Mother Jones piece draws from those articles as well as from original research that delves further into the reasons that an untested medical device was implanted in 200,000 women. " The implant situation has made me realize, more than anything I'd done, just how bad the treatment is that women receive from medicine, science, and even doctors, " Regush says. He also says that the story doesn't end here: " I'm still concerned about the ongoing lack of proper guidelines and public discussion on what women should be considering about implants. " .. Breast implants, of course, are not the only form of plastic surgery that has gained popularity in recent years. The numbers of face-lifts, tummy tucks, liposuctions, nose jobs, and lip implants have all skyrocketed over the last decade, as has the number of doctors who perform them. " Everywhere you look, there are impossible and conflicting images of women, " says Robin Lakoff, coauthor of Face Value: The Politics of Beauty. " Women are made to believe that love and approval from men are dependent on the right image. That desperation will continue until women become looked upon as full people rather than just body parts. " About 750,000 women a year elect to have cosmetic surgery, spurred on by ubiquitous images of the body beautiful, by husbands or boyfriends, and by doctors' newspaper ads that make nip-and-tuck look as easy as highlighting one's hair. In Houston last March, plastic surgeon Dr. Franklin Rose took out an ad in the Houston Chronicle, explaining that the " cultural influence is such in this city that for a woman to feel attractive usually includes a Mercedes, a gold Rolex, and three or four operations-nose, breasts, liposuctions. It's just part of living in this city in a certain way, in a certain socioeconomic strata. " The ad ends like this: " The Texas woman is a combination of many things, not the least of which is a surgeon's scalpel. " But breasts, more than thin thighs or a smooth brow, are most potent as a symbol of women's sexual self-worth. So it's not surprising that over 2 million women have had breast implants, and 130,000 more seek them each year. Breast augmentation is a $450-million-a-year business, as the American Society of Plastic and Reconstructive Surgeons, Inc., a lobbying group of 4,500 doctors, is well aware. During a " practice enhancement " campaign in the early eighties, the group issued a memo to the FDA, asserting, " There is a substantial and enlarging body of medical information and opinion to the effect that these deformities [small breasts] are really a disease " that, left uncorrected, results in a " total lack of well-being. " Among the most popular " cures " for this " disease " over the last decade has been the Même implant, a silicone-gel sac with a unique polyurethane foam cover that was supposed to prevent breast hardening. Since its development in 1982, the Même has captured over a quarter of the current implant market; over 200,000 women carry the Même in their bodies. But in spite of the large numbers of women opting for the " improved " implant, the foam used for its cover-originally manufactured for use in such things as furniture upholstery, oil filters, and carburetors-went almost completely unmonitored for eight years. It wasn't until last April that the Food and Drug Administration released a report showing that, in conditions similar to those in the body, the foam can release the chemical 2,4-toluenediamine (TDA), which causes liver cancer in rats and is a suspected human carcinogen. Days after the announcement, the Même's manufacturer, Bristol-Myers Squibb, pulled the implant from the market and, in September, the company closed down its plastic-surgery unit that produced the Même. Most of the Même's recipients thought that they were making a relatively risk-free decision to augment their breasts. They were never warned of the implants' potential dangers. There are now several dozen injury suits against the three successive manufacturers of the Même. In one recent case, a New York jury awarded a woman $4.45 million (the case is under appeal); in another, a California woman settled out of court for $450,000. A class-action suit against Bristol-Myers Squibb is being prepared in Canada. Some lawyers are predicting that these suits, along with the several hundred in process against the makers of other types of breast implants, will eventually rival the multibillion-dollar litigation fight against A.H. Robins, which manufactured the Dalkon Shield IUD. But as with the Robins suit, financial reparations won't change this simple fact for many women: They were told the Même implant was safe, that it wouldn't hurt them, by manufacturers and doctors who should have known better-and the dangers were then ignored by the government agencies that were supposed to protect them. It is early morning in Ottawa. Pierre Blais, a private consultant on medical products, is in the basement laboratory of his home. As the Canadian government scientist who blew the whistle on the Même in January 1989, Blais has been inundated with requests from former implant users and their doctors and lawyers. Sets of damaged Même implants and other silicone-gel types without the foam arrive by courier almost daily from different parts of the United States and Canada, along with medical records and mammogram results. The packages are beginning to pile up in the living room upstairs. Among the eighty or so sets of damaged implants he's received so far, Blais says that ones with broken covers are the most common. The gel released from the silicone sacs has often seeped into armpits and lymph nodes. In one typical case, an implant deflated, and leakage on both sides began to erode the user's ribs. Some of the women who have contacted Blais have also complained of symptoms ranging from sharp pain in their breasts and pelvic regions to inflammation and severe fatigue. " I'm not only worried about the potential of the implants to cause cancer, " says Blais, a small, wiry fifty-one-year-old, " but also that their chemical constituents may wreak havoc in the body over the long term. " Right now, Blais is examining two Même implants. Only they don't look much like implants. The two buckets on his desk that are holding the products are filled with greenish gel. That is what is left of fifty-two-year-old Janie Cruise's surgically implanted breasts. It took almost seven hours on March 1, 1990, for doctors at the University of California Medical Center in Los Angeles to make unexpectedly large incisions under Cruise's breasts and then scrape out the seemingly endless amounts of infected green ooze from her chest wall. The smell of the infection was so bad that the chief surgeon became ill. While Cruise's case may be extreme, Blais says that her history is all too typical. Cruise, then forty-four, was living in Southern California when she decided to get implants. Her seven-year marriage had just fallen apart, and she was facing re-entry into the singles scene. Encouraged by a close friend - " Janie, you'll look flawless! " - Cruise handed over a few thousand dollars for what seemed like a miracle cure for her sagging self-confidence. " My girlfriend planted the seed and it started growing, " Cruise says. " I especially wanted to look nice in a bathing suit. " Cruise's plastic surgeon, Dr. Howard Sterling of Fullerton, California, assured her that the Même, a new implant, would keep her breasts soft and give her a " happy surgery. " The doctor was known to brag that his own wife was a pleased Même user. Within a couple of days after her surgery on November 22, 1983, Cruise felt severe pain in her left breast, but Sterling shrugged it off. " He said his wife had similar pain, and he called us both big babies, " Cruise recalls. " So I never bothered going back to him. " The following year, Cruise quit her job as a regional sales manager for a piano distributorship and moved from California to Florida, hoping to start a new life. The breast pain journeyed with her. Then came the severe headaches, fatigue, muscle and joint pain, numbness in her right hand, bronchitis, and gastrointestinal ailments; often, when she would wake up in the morning, her chest felt like someone was sleeping on it. All of these symptoms and more, she says, " sort of evolved over a period of a year and a half. " She visited one medical specialist after another - about two dozen all told. She took medication for her pain, enrolled in pain clinics, tried biofeedback, and talked with a psychologist. Nothing helped. " There was not one single suspicion voiced that my symptoms might be linked to the implants, " she says. Cruise began blaming her medical problems on the damp Florida weather. Now she is waiting for Blais's evaluation of the evidence: Did her implants break because of design, or because of the use of substandard raw materials? Blais believes that most, if not all, of these products will fail in time. He says women who assumed that their doctors could be counted on to give them safe and effective breast implants misplaced their trust. " Plastic surgeons have been putting in a lot of junk that has been very poorly manufactured, " he says. " It's never been made to last, and that means a lot of women are going to have broken implants and leaking gel and other chemicals and debris moving through their bodies. I'm very fearful that the health problems we are seeing today with all the implants are merely a hint of the disaster to come. " Dr. Howard Sterling doesn't much remember Janie Cruise, one of his earliest Même recipients. Didn't she once send him porno-type pinups? No, wait. That was someone else. Oh, so Cruise had some problems. A lot of pain? Really? " Well, she never reported any of them to me, " he says, ending that topic of discussion. But Sterling, who intermittently clears his throat and speaks very quickly into the phone, does want to talk about the Même. In fact, he boasts that he is " probably one of the plastic surgeons who has implanted the most Mêmes in the whole damn U.S. of A. " - roughly 670 sets of the implants. Though he's never formally studied his Même patients, Sterling volunteers that most of them, including his wife, two daughters, and " girls " in his office, have had " beautiful experiences. " His complication rate runs about 15 to 20 percent, but he says that's mostly because some of the implants harden. Sterling did have some fleeting concerns about the Même in 1983, the same year that Cruise had her surgery. Some of his patients were developing blood blisters between the implant's foam layer and the inner silicone-gel bag. The accumulation of blood made the implants heavier. " When I took the Mêmes out, I could see that parts had a shiny surface, indicating that there was little or no adhesion there to the foam, " he explains. Why did he continue implanting the Même? " Because it didn't make breasts harden to the same extent as other implants did, and it was the best thing available at the time, " he replies. And by 1984, his cases of blood blisters had dropped dramatically, perhaps partly because Sterling had stopped giving his patients an anti-inflammatory drug for infection control that was linked to blood-clot formation. Sterling also believed that the Même had a long history of safety because it was similar to the Natural-Y, a foam-covered implant developed for mastectomy patients. One of that implant's developers in the late sixties was Sterling's mentor, Dr. Franklin Ashley, who headed the plastic-surgery department at the University of California at Los Angeles. The other was Harold Markham, who became president of Natural-Y Surgical Specialties, Inc., and eventually masterminded the development of the Même. Schooled in advertising and marketing, Markham was previously a medical-device salesman and consultant. Ashley's published claims of good test results initially generated only sporadic clinical interest in the Natural-Y. Some doctors reported difficulties in removing the Natural-Y cleanly when hardening or infection developed. They said that the foam got entangled with breast tissue. In spite of that, by the late seventies, the implant had gained the faithful support of a small group of plastic surgeons, and Natural-Y, Inc., began work on a lighter, more-streamlined foam-covered implant, primarily for cosmetic purposes-the Même. " Because the Même was supposedly an improved design, we [plastic surgeons] assumed it was probably safe, " Sterling says. " The company said it was. All we really knew is what the company told us. " The company couldn't have provided Sterling with much in the way of clinical trial data on the Même. For example, it had sponsored a small, uncontrolled study, which followed only eighty-one Même recipients over eighteen months. Dr. Steven Herman, the New York City plastic surgeon who published the study in 1984, claimed excellent results for the implant. However, there was something Herman didn't mention: according to a detailed 1986 deposition, which includes a description of cutting checks, Markham claims that Herman undertook the study in exchange for a royalty on Même sales. (Herman continues to deny receiving any compensation from the company.) Early animal studies on the Même, which the company cited to plastic surgeons as further proof of the implant's safety, were of the shortcut variety, according to Pierre Blais. As senior scientific advisor to Canada's Health Protection Branch, an agency similar to the FDA, Blais reviewed numerous types of implants, and a colleague had brought the Même to his attention. " Their approach [to testing] was rudimentary, " he says. " Sorely lacking was toxicological testing for the presence of chemical by-products of the foam in the body over the short and long term. Concerns had been raised by biomaterials scientists since the early sixties about the potential of some polyurethane foams to release toxic substances, if not carcinogens. But this issue was apparently not a priority for the company. " Blais would later learn that, until June 1988, the Même's manufacturer had incomplete knowledge about the foam's chemical structure and the way the foam was produced. Instead of scientific study, the company relied heavily on promotional literature to sell the Même, including numerous testimonials from plastic surgeons about the " excellent results " they were getting with the implant. The anecdotes were packaged in the form of information bulletins by Markham's daughter, Jacqueline, who had a master's degree in fine arts. In a September 1986 bulletin, she stated emphatically that " there is absolutely no theoretical or factual basis for concerns about cancer with our foam. " From 1987 until the implant was pulled from the market in April 1991, the right to manufacture the Même was sold twice: once to Cooper Surgical, part of the Cooper Companies, Inc., of New York, which primarily manufactures optical products, and then to Surgitek, a division of Bristol-Myers Squibb. In its grab for the implant market, Surgitek trumpeted the success of an Atlanta plastic surgeon, Dr. T. Roderick Hester, whose enthusiasm for the Même was such that he had implanted it in about twelve hundred women, almost doubling Sterling's mark. Like Sterling, Hester did not run a controlled study on his patients. But he did publish some data in Perspectives in Plastic Surgery in 1988, claiming that the Même was performing very well indeed; he was later forced to admit that his research was not carried out in a particularly rigorous manner. Meanwhile, he was paid a thousand dollars a crack on at least four occasions to speak at conferences on behalf of the Même; once, Surgitek paid his travel expenses to California so he could " explain clinical stuff " to company employees. " It's standard practice among surgeons to receive a small honorarium in exchange for their time, " Hester says. The FDA has long been empowered to require more rigorous studies on breast implants. The agency could easily have directed manufacturers to conduct detailed studies on every aspect of the Même, especially its foam cover. But again and again, over two decades, FDA officials bowed to the interests of plastic surgeons and manufacturers and turned their backs on the women who used breast implants. In 1976, Congress passed amendments to the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act, enabling the FDA to regulate the use of medical devices, including breast implants. But it wasn't until 1982 that the agency showed signs of making a move. With an eye on the lobbying by plastic surgeons, who were represented on its medical-device advisory panel, the FDA declined to take strong regulatory action. Instead, it only proposed that implants be placed in a category indicating that there was insufficient evidence to provide reasonable assurance of their safety and efficacy. It took another six years, during which time approximately half a million women received implants, for the FDA to notify manufacturers that they would be required to submit safety and efficacy data on their products for review. And it wasn't until last April-another thirty months and approximately 330,000 implants after the notice-that the ruling was finalized. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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