Vitamin D Cuts the Severity of COVID-19 in a Clinical Trial !

The scientific evidence for taking Vitamin D to decrease the severity of COVID-19 continues to come in with this prospective clinical pilot study (randomized and blinded).

Here’s the link: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0960076020302764?via%3Dihub

Results…

“Of 50 patients treated with calcifediol, one required admission to the ICU (2%), while of 26 untreated patients, 13 required admission (50%)… p < 0.001.”  

Conclusion…

“Our pilot study demonstrated that administration of a high dose of Calcifediol or 25-hydroxyvitamin D, a main metabolite of vitamin D endocrine system, significantly reduced the need for ICU treatment of patients requiring hospitalization due to proven COVID-19. Calcifediol seems to be able to reduce severity of the disease….”

Note:

The stuff they gave the trial patients in this experiment was Calcifediol (also called “Calcidiol” and 25-hydroxyvitamin D). It is not vitamin D2 or D3.  Instead, calcifediol is the hormonal form of vitamin D that the liver makes from vitamin D2 and D3. This hormonal form is then converted in the kidneys to the active form, calcitriol (25-hydroxyvitamin D).

Ordinarily, vitamin D2 and D3 come from the diet and the sun, but the mainstream is now beginning to admit that many, if not most of us, are NOT getting enough vitamin D without supplementation, whether D2 or D3.

So which is better, D3 or D2 supplements?

There are conflicting studies. The mainstream now says it probably doesn’t matter, but this could change next week.

I take D3 this week.

Keep in mind that genetic SNPs are still being regularly ignored in almost all randomized clinical trials. This is the fundamental weakness of almost all mainstream clinical medical literature, especially when negative findings are touted as proof that a treatment or supplement is worthless to every individual in the entire world.

A possible example of this ubiquitous error might be evident in my experience with ginkgo biloba.

Out there somewhere in the ether there’s a randomized clinical trial that has “proven” (to the mainstream medical community of overworked, under-appreciated drones) that ginkgo biloba doesn’t help anyone’s memory. Don’t waste your money, right?

And yet with my unique list of genetic SNPs, when I took Ginkgo back in the 1990s, I was astonished that I could, for the first time, remember where I had parked my car in the VA’s vast parking lot. I could visualize my parked car and its location effortlessly when I walked out into the darkness after a day’s work.

Anecdotal evidence is not rubbish. They call it “evidence” for a reason.

For what it’s worth, Dr. Amen (of the Amen Clinics) says that in all of his (broad) anecdotal clinical experience, the most normal looking spect brain scans he sees tend to come from patients who have been taking ginkgo biloba.

Rubbish? Not in my book.

Fortunately, the vitamin D clinical trial mentioned above showed strong statistical significance. If it had not, it would have been widely quoted by the mainstream as “proof” that taking vitamin D supplements for COVID-19 is a waste of time.

Since the future studies of Vitamin D and COVID-19 will involve larger numbers of randomized patients whose genetic differences (SNPS and epigenetic markers) will be ignored as usual, as if non-existent, it is likely that the statistical significance of the benefits of taking vitamin D for COVID-19 will be lower (a higher p-value) than we see in this small study with its strikingly significant (low) p-value of less than 0.001. (The higher the p-value, the more likely the results are due to coincidence, of course.)

But if significance disappears in larger trials, don’t let it convince you that Vitamin D supplementation “is now known to be of no clinical benefit for COVID-19 patients.” That would be rubbish.

The more they homogenize the genetic differences of populations by including larger and larger numbers of random individuals in clinical trials, the less likely something that helped a few genetic outliers in a small study will show up as statistically significant. And the thing is, many of us are “genetic outliers” in one way or another, because there are so MANY genes.

Here’s an analogy: in surgical pathology practice it’s common to see rare tumors. But isn’t this a contradiction? If you see them a lot, how could they be rare?

A pathologist sees rare tumors fairly often because there are a huge number or different varieties of rare tumors. You may see only one case of bilateral pheochromocytoma in your lifetime, but the next day you will probably see some other rare tumor that you’ll never see again.

The current black-and-white world (of mainstream clinical trials) that foolishly ignores genetic diversity to everyone’s detriment will someday change and become a joke for first-year medical students.

Not a joke, a grim anecdote.

Like the one about…

How we used to go from the morgue to the maternity ward in the 1840s without handwashing. Mainstream doctors did this, literally killing countless women by inoculating them with bacteria that caused “childbed fever.” All this, while ignoring the fringe voice of Ignaz Semmelweis and doing everything in science’s dark tradition to ruin the careers of the fringe, in this case, the Father of Handwashing.

How dare anyone challenge the settled science of miasmas with this fringy bacterial nonsense?

Love and good health,

Morrill Talmage Moorehead, MD


I Bailed On My Medical Practice

photo

Honestly, I was never cut out to be a pathologist.

It’s true that I have a strong eye for pattern recognition of rare tumors. And I’ve got enough OCD-ishness to avoid most of the million tiny and galactic mistakes that haunt pathologists without OCD traits.

But I lack the bluster for the job.

It turns out that bluster, the gift of feeling and sounding 100% certain when you’re only 99, is the key to tolerating a profession where people’s lives are in your hands.

And that gift of pseudo-certainty makes surgeons and colleagues think you’re good, even if you’re not.

The people who thought I was an outstanding general pathologist were the few pathologists who consulted with me on most of their own tough cases. Plus maybe every cytotechnologist I ever worked with.

And my wife and kids who are completely unbiased.

When the stress from outside work escalated and combined with on-the-job stress, I reached critical mass inside. I was done. Cooked.

It was a Thursday night.

On Friday I walked into work and told them this would be my last day as a pathologist.

That was June 27, 2014, about a month ago. Since then, I’ve learned a few things.

When I’m not smothered by life-and-death stress, the world shines for me.

Sitcoms are funny. I’m still shocked.

Nobody dies if I’m an imperfect human.

The scowl wasn’t permanent. My daughter said my eyes look younger now.

The other day I caught myself smiling at a tree in our backyard. Do normal people do that?

I no longer have to open fresh colons, remove the feces by hand and hunt for invisible lymph nodes for an hour breathing toxic fumes.

The last 26 years of practice are over. The 13 years of prep and training are history.

My goal is to become an indie writer before the neurons fly south.

I didn’t quit pathology so I could write full-time. I’m not that brave.

I quit because I couldn’t go on.

But I love to write. More than anything.

And like you, my human flaws qualify me for this job.

M. Talmage Moorehead

If you’re interested in intelligent design, weird artifacts, genetics and psychology from the perspective of a nineteen-year-old “Hapa Girl,” my in-progress novel may be a fun read. The protagonist, Johanna, is a genius geneticist with a younger brother who struggles with depression. Her evolving story starts here.

It’s an experiment called, Hapa Girl DNA, a tightrope of fiction and nonfiction. “Hapa” is the Hawaiian term for “half.” Johanna is half Japanese and half Jewish. In “writing” her own novel as she lives it, she ignores some big fiction rules, partly because she’s allergic to dogma and partly because she’d rather enjoy the “writing” experience than worry about material success.

But the “rules” are essential knowledge to anyone crazy enough to break them.

If you’re a fiction writer or just curious, you could download my free e-book on fiction writing, the second to last chapter of which gives my specific take on many of the dogmatic rules of fiction writing. Downloading that 19,000 word pdf file will place you on my list of interested people who will be politely notified when my traditional version of this novel is done – possibly before the next ice age. (No spam or sharing of your email address. I haven’t written to my list yet and it’s been over a year.)

Next time you’re writing emails, if you think of it, please send my blog address (www.storiform.com) to an open-minded, highly intelligent and beautiful friend of yours. Thanks. I appreciate it. They might not, but you never know. 🙂

Talmage