Fantastic Voyage

The 1966 film Fantastic Voyage involved injecting a miniaturized submarine with miniaturized scientists into the body of a scientist to hunt down and destroy an otherwise fatal disease in his body.  Essentially, that’s what’s happening inside me right now.

Instead of Raquel Welch in a form fitting cat suit, I have a compound that is weaponizing my own T-Cells into hunting down and destroying leukemia cells.  The process is called Immunotherapy.  It differs from standard chemotherapy in that it is not an outside agent that unselectively kills cells that look like cancer, but rather a way of stimulating my own immune system to identify and kill the cells. 

My last biopsy revealed that I still have some leukemia cells, despite 9 months of intense chemo.  I’m sure you’re aware that fighting bacteria with antibiotics can lead to “super bacteria” that is resistant to antibiotics.  This is similar to what I’ve experienced.  The cancer cells that survived the chemo are apparently resistant to it, meaning that another tool is necessary. So, I’m currently being infused with Blinatumomab (trade name: Blyncyto), which is in a class of immunotherapy drugs called BiTEs (which stands for bi specific T-Cell engagers).  It is bi specific in that it does 2 things.  It identifies and puts a receptor antibody on the cancer cells and puts what amounts to a seek and destroy molecule on my T-Cells that will enable these immune cells to locate and explode the cancer cells.  Kind of like having that miniature submarine from Fantastic Voyage inside of me.

The Blyncyto is fed through a pump attached to my PICC line and infuses me 24/7 with the medicine.  I’m into my second week of this and side effects have been very minimal…apart from having to lug around a fanny pack that contains the pump and the medicine.  I’ll be continuing this protocol until mid-April when I’ll get unhooked for two weeks and then reconnected for another 28 days.  After that, I’ll be undergoing a stem cell transplant from a donor.

The 10/10 match donor I mentioned in my last post disappeared from the registry.  No reason was (or ever is) given.  That leaves us with a 9/10 donor who seems to be willing to move forward.  I know nothing about this donor other than that he is in the US.  I’m continuing to search for a 10/10 donor, although my doctor seems comfortable with moving forward with the 9/10, since the missing protein is not a real important one in terms of success or rejection.  So, if things go to form, next steps are to have the donor tested for things like HIV, hepatitis, and other things what would be problematic.  Similarly, I’ll be evaluated on a “co-morbidity index” to make sure I’m up to the transplant procedure.  If all goes well, I’ll begin the procedure in early June.  It will involve wiping out my own immune system with heavy duty chemo and replacing it with the donor’s bone marrow stem cells.  I’ll have a new immune system that is cancer free and, if all goes well, cured of BOTH leukemia and multiple myeloma.

Note: even though my myeloma has been in remission for many years now, it is not cured. It could reappear, although the longer it stays quiet, the less chance there is of this happening.  The transplant is the only avenue for curing it completely.

There IS a bit of a silver lining to my recent relapse.  Although it was disappointing, having it happen now gives me the flexibility to do all this crazy stuff…wheras if it happened 5 years from now when I’m in my 70s, I might not clear the “co-morbidity index” and therefore would not be able to do the transplant.  Under that scenario, I would have just had to continue to tamp down the disease…essentially kicking the can down the road…until the next best treatment protocol is approved.

For now, I’m still on the lookout for a donor.  The ideal donor will probably be of Ashkenazi Jewish heritage. Individuals over age 60 will not be considered, as the cells I need DO deteriorate over time.  I’m told that the “fresh date” for these donor cells is between the ages of 18-44.  If you know anyone in the “sweet spot” and willing to donate, please pass along my individual link to the registry: http://join.bethematch.org/ForEd.  The donation kit is sent out at no charge for individuals between the ages of 18-44.  They will charge $100 for the kit to individuals between the ages of 45-60.

Right now, life is pretty calm.  Other than the constant companion of the fanny pack, I feel fine.  I’m very optimistic with how this will all turn out and consider myself fortunate to be able to take advantage of these new treatments and techniques.

1 in 10,000

Leukemia cells - the enemy

I had hoped that this blog update would be a celebration of the end of overnight hospital treatments.  Indeed, I completed my last round of Hyper CVAD treatment on Feb 4 and happily skipped out of Cedars Sinai expecting not to be admitted back for any admissions. However, I spiked a fever the following Friday and was readmitted for the weekend.  The fever was a not unexpected result of the amount of chemo my bone marrow has received. There was no associated infection.  It was just that my bone marrow had taken quite a beating with 12 chemo sessions over the past 9 months.  My immunity levels were near zero.  In fact, I had NO white blood cells for about a day.  But, as expected, I began to recover and was sent home on Monday with the expectation that I would just get progressively better.  And I have been.  Right now, I feel pretty normal.

Last week, I went in for a bone marrow biopsy, which is the test that shows whether or not any leukemia cells could be detected.  This is my 4^th since my diagnosis last Spring and the other three results were MRD-, meaning no cancer cells could be detected.  I was expecting the same result with this one.  But…

The results showed that 1 in 10,000 cells did look suspiciously like a cancer cell.  That one cell can replicate quickly and result in full blown leukemia.  In other words, I’m not in remission…I’m in relapse.  So, continued treatment is necessary. 

Here is the plan:

More chemo won’t help.  I’ve already had a shit-ton.  So, starting March 11, I will be admitted to Cedars.  A PICC line will be reinserted (the one I had was removed last week) and it will be connected to a fanny pack sized pouch that contains a medication called Blinatumomab.  This is an immunotherapy medication that specifically targets the antibodies that were detected in the biopsy.  They will keep me in the hospital for 2-3 days to see how well I tolerate this medication…as the side effects can be very severe if my body doesn’t like it.  Assuming all goes well, I’ll go home and wear this “fanny pack” for 4 weeks while it continuously infuses me with the medication.  After four weeks, I’ll get another biopsy and if it there are not active cells, that will probably take care of this phase of the treatment.  If not, I’ll be connected for 4 more weeks.

I will also be headed for a transplant using cells from a donor.  Good news here is that a donor has surfaced and he is a perfect 10/10 match.  Assuming he can be contacted, is healthy and is willing to do it, I’ll be scheduled for a transplant in a few months.  If the transplant goes well, I’ll be cured of both the leukemia and the myeloma. 

This continued plan generates many concerns.   Such as:

1. Finding the best transplant match.  If the 10/10 can’t do it, we would have to settle for a less good match…which increases the potential for me to experience some level of cell rejection…called graft versus host disease (GVHD).  This can be mild…such as a recurring skin rash or dry eyes…or severe…can’t get out of bed.  The better the match, the less likely I’ll experience anything significant. 
2. The blinatumomab:  First of all, it is a very expensive medication.  $189,000/month.  It is labeled for use when cancer cells are 1 in 1,000.  Since my percentage is currently much lower, we will have an argument with insurance…although my doctor has done it before and feels confident we can get them to cover it.  Meanwhile, as indicated earlier, the medication can cause some very severe issues, although these will be apparent at the outset..which is why I’ll be under hospital observation for the first several days.  After that, there doesn’t seem to be much to worry about, expect that I’ll have this damn pouch connected to me 24/7 for a month.  The normal side effects are minimal.

What is the long-term prognosis? At this point, according to my doctor, it will depend on a lot of things such as the donor characteristics, my overall health etc.  So that merits further discussion. 

Needless to say, I’m depressed that I’m not finished with treatment and anxious about both the short-term discomfort and the long-term prospects.  My gut says I’ll be OK.  And of course, I’m willing to endure all of this if it results in a cure.  Nothing is certain, but I intend to soldier forward as I always do.  I’ve already been through a transplant, so I basically know what to expect there.  This will be a little different is that I have an outside donor, so I’ll have to take anti-rejection meds for a few months after the transplant.  Side effects are usually pretty benign. 

So that’s the latest.  As always, I appreciate your love and support.  I’ll update you as things come together.