Category: Drug Trial

My Battle Against Bitterness

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My application for the ALS drug Relyvrio was shot down by insurance a few days ago. There is no appeal process because patients who are on ventilators are not included in clinical trials. That means insurance can say it doesn’t benefit us. It was very hard to get that news. They say I’m in the end stages, but that’s not true. Even though my ALSFRS-R score is 1- the lowest possible score – I’m very much alive.

I’m starting to understand that I will never have access to any ALS drugs, that I won’t outlive my mom like I promised her, that I will die young and leave Evan a widower long before his time.

Right now I’m depressed, but my fear is that I will become bitter. I can’t let that happen, though. Then ALS would truly win because I wouldn’t be me anymore. So how do I combat bitterness? I keep hope that I will have enough good years left to make precious memories with my loved ones. I travel down memory lane frequently, enjoying and organizing old photos. I try to find joy in the little things like my dog Pickle’s happy dance, the Christmas lights in our bedroom year round, and the beautiful music Evan makes when he plays his guitar.

Not today ALS. Not today.

My FDA Advisory Committee NurOwn Statement

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Dear Drs. Califf and Marks,

I am a young woman living with ALS, and I am writing in strong support of the approval of the ALS treatment debamestrocel, which has proven to be both safe and effective in clinical trials.

ALS is a brutal enemy. This equal opportunity killer destroys the nerves that allow us to move, speak, eat, swallow, and eventually breathe. It is 100% fatal and has no cure. It can strike anyone at any time.

When I was diagnosed with ALS at age 28 in 2015, I lost everything. My body, without warning or reason, turned on me, and that meant the end of so much. My career as a 5th grade English teacher and dreams of motherhood and growing old with my husband were all swept away like sand when I believed they were stone.

Let me paint you a picture of my life with ALS. My day starts with 40 minutes of breathing treatments to prevent infection in my lungs that leave me feeling like I’m suffocating. We stop when my oxygen drops to 92.

I’m on a ventilator which is supposed to provide me with full, even breaths, but if the settings are even slightly off, it either doesn’t provide me with enough air or pushes too much too fast, forcing me to hyperventilate and pass out.

I survive on a feeding tube and haven’t enjoyed real food in 7 years. We start my “food,” a beige nutrition solution that comes in cartons, after my breathing treatment. It’s delivered to me through a pump over the course of 20 hours, often leaving me nauseous.

Because I am on a ventilator, I can’t produce sound, not even a whimper when I’m in pain. I communicate with a device called a Tobii that uses eye gaze technology. I am actually typing this letter with my eyes.

Why not write to you with my hands like a healthy person? I forgot to mention that because of ALS, I’m a quadriplegic, meaning I can only move my face. I miss being able to touch. I haven’t hugged my husband Evan in 6 years. I can’t even hold his hand. I’m totally paralyzed and totally dependent on others to meet my every need.

Imagine you can’t scratch yourself when you’re itchy, can’t adjust the thermostat or even cover yourself when you’re cold, can’t clean yourself after using the toilet. That’s my life. ALS has stripped me of my independence. I’m utterly helpless without others, and I am nothing without my machines.

The ALSFRS-R is a tool to attempt to quantify how ALS is affecting a person. A 1 score increase could be the difference between choking and eating normally or requiring a walker and walking with a minor foot drop.

The ALSFRS-R is imperfect at best. One person can have a score of 37 and be walking and breathing normally but have their hands, swallow, and voice impaired, while another person with a score of 37 could have significant shortness of breath and require a power wheelchair but have full function of their voice, swallow, and hands. It is not an accurate representation of every individual’s unique case or the changes that are occurring.

My 2015 score was 34, and my 2021 score was 1. Does a score of 1 accurately reflect me? I still communicate, live, love, smile. I have rich friendships and a healthy, passionate marriage. I’m a talented writer who raises awareness of the reality of ALS by blogging (howilivewithals.com). A score of 1 is completely unfair attempt to display ME.

Debamestrocel has achieved remarkable feats in clinical trials, including maintaining and even increasing ALSFRS-R points. Every point matters in preserving an individual’s independence and dignity. Debamestrocel also improved CSF biomarkers in ALS. No other drug has accomplished this. The benefit to those in the early phases of ALS is clear in P3 trials.

Debamestrocel is a beacon of hope to members of the ALS community, and with rapid disease progression ending in death within an average of 2 – 5 years, we don’t have the luxury of time to wait for treatments.

Give those in the early stages of ALS a chance to have more years on earth and make precious memories with their loved ones. Approve debamestrocel.

Sincerely,
Rachel Doboga

You’re Invited!

Consider this your invitation to write your own statement urging the FDA to approve NurOwn / debamestrocel! The deadline is September 20th, so get moving! The organization I AM ALS has created a wonderful guide to writing a powerful statement. Check it out! And remember, you MUST include the following:

Docket No. FDA-2023-N-2608 for Cellular, Tissue, and Gene Therapies Advisory Committee; Notice of Meeting; Establishment of a Public Docket; Request for Comments

Rejoice, for Yesterday a Miracle Happened!

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

When I read the news, I immediately started sobbing. We were about to start trach care and Evan was holding all the materials, but as soon as he saw the first tear fall, he put it all down.

“What happened? What’s going on, honey?”

I could hear the mounting panic in his voice, but I was crying too hard to type my answer – that these were tears of joy because the FDA had made the right decision and approved Tofersen, a miracle drug for people with SOD1 ALS and familial ALS. Thank God, Goddess, and Jesus Christ I don’t have either of those. I’m very, very lucky. Still I am overjoyed! I know one family who lost 33 people to ALS. They cut through generations and you’re almost guaranteed to get it.

Evan wiped my tears so I could type. “I’m so happy! Tofersen just got accelerated approval from the FDA. It’s almost like a cure for familial ALS! Everyone has been been campaigning so hard for this on Twitter. It’s a dream come true!”

I feel bad for not including him in my passion over the past few weeks, but we have been consumed by our efforts to put together a fundraiser for our dog Pickle who desperately needs veterinary care.

I go on and on. “One man was on life support and now he’s ice skating with his daughter! And another woman’s ALS clinic score hasn’t changed in 2.5 years! Mine went down every 3 months until they stopped measuring. She cooks, does laundry, does everything she shouldn’t be able to do!”

Evan raises his eyebrows, speechless.

“The FDA approving Tofersen is a huge deal for the whole ALS community because it’s the FDA recognizing a biomarker for ALS. Who knows where that could lead?! This is the 3rd ALS treatment to be approved in 6 years. Things are really ramping up! I’m not eligible for any of them because I have sporadic ALS and I’m on a ventilator, but I’m still absolutely thrilled for the rest of my community!

“I’m proud of you, honey. You contributed to this.”

“Barely. Just a few tweets and reading a lot.”

“That’s still something. I love you.”

I’m suddenly very tired. All the crying and the roller-coaster of emotion wore me out. I have a feeling this is just the first wave of joy and tears today. Evan closes the curtains and peaceful sleep takes over my Tofersen dream come true.

3 Things to Be Grateful for This Thanksgiving If You Have ALS

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Gratitude

Those of us living with ALS or loving someone who has it are gratitude experts. Don’t misunderstand me. We have our dark, bitter moments. As we catalogue our blessings – the precious time we have had on earth, our remaining abilities – we inevitably think about the other side of the coin. Yes, I have lived 30 full years, but how many do I have left as this disease does its wicked work? I can still move my legs, but God, do I miss walking and dancing.

This post is meant to break us and our loved ones out of this cycle. This Thanksgiving, let’s be grateful for the following:

1. The exciting research currently underway

In the three years since the Ice Bucket Challenge, we have seen more progress in research about the causes of and treatments for ALS than I ever dreamed of when I was diagnosed. Just a few months ago, the FDA – with guidance from the ALS Association – approved Radicava, the first new drug for ALS in over 20 years! To keep up with advances in research as well as drug trial news, follow these organizations on Facebook or Twitter: The ALS Association, ALS TDI, and ALS News Today.

2. We are not alone

In addition to the local monthly support groups hosted by The ALS Association, did you know that this fantastic organization arranges fun events for ALS families year round? My chapter hosts a Zoo Day and a picnic gathering at a local farm. Follow your local chapter on Facebook or Twitter so you don’t miss out! You can also get support without even leaving home by joining online support groups. I belong to six on Facebook!

3. Caregivers show us love every day

I am constantly amazed and humbled by the devotion of my caregivers. Whether they are family members, friends, or professionals we hired through an agency, they work tirelessly to see to my personal needs, from feeding me to toileting. What’s more, they do it in a way that preserves my dignity. Then, I think of all the ways they support Evan. An ALS spouse is never truly off duty, so it’s easy to get behind on housework and neglect self-care. My caregivers make such a difference in Evan’s quality of life by helping out with laundry and staying with me while Evan runs errands or takes a little time for himself. Make a list of everything that your caregivers do for you. It will give you something to do during the four hours your turkey is it the oven.

On that note, remember that November is Caregivers Appreciation Month. It’s not too late to thank your caregivers with a heartfelt note or some flowers!

 

This post is dedicated to my caregivers: Amelia, Aubrey, Brenda, Cindy, Evan, Mallori, Melissa, Paige, and Renee (AKA my mom).