Wednesday, March 31, 2010

GSK & PTC Updates

GSK

First off, a qualifier. If you are reading this for inside information, such as the start date of the trial, the protocol, the willingness (or not) to consider compassionate use, etc., stop reading right now.

We (Sharon Hesterlee, Kimberly Galberaith, and I) met the GSK team and while all of those thoughts were on our mind, we knew that those were not the questions to ask and that we were not meeting for the purpose of asking for confidential information in an effort to leak it to the greater community. Rather we were meeting to think about how we might work together to support and accelerate trials (and hopefully treatments) for our sons.

The GSK folks we met with consisted of the people involved in scientific communications, global commercial strategy, alliance development, and public policy. We went into this meeting without an agenda. We felt a synergy the moment we met and the conversation flowed from there, covering a range of topics to include urgency, high unmet need, anticipation, and expectations. We discussed the GSK relationship with Prosensa and the capability and capacity they bring to the table. It was obvious that GSK is committed to Duchenne. It felt good to see their interest in Duchenne, their openness to new opportunities, and here’s the thing...having GSK (better known as ‘big pharma’) onboard is quite a coup to be honest. These folks know the ropes, they have experience in taking drugs through the clinical process and to market.

We spent some time talking about the individuals and families who do not fit into the current antisense compounds (rare deletions, duplications), how the community feels fragmented based on mutations, as if, for some boys, there is less hope than for others. We talked about the fragility of the community, the increased frustration and desperation as strength decreases and walking is threatened. They understood, perhaps not to the degree of parents/families watching minute by minute, but the message was heard loud and clear. We spent a good bit of time discussing the need for a regular communications plan, a website where all foundations/organizations would direct interested individuals: the one-stop shopping for accurate information and consistent messaging, so that information does not arrive in sound bites or tidbits of information from anyone, rather information we all can count on to be accurate. We learned that while this sounds easy on some level, there are loads of hoops before information is released and SEC and regulatory concerns that need to be considered, such as communication that might suggest results or promise, or anything that can be perceived as persuasive in terms of trial recruitment.

We discussed clinical sites and whether more with fewer patients is better or less with more patients might produce better data with less variability. We discussed using clinical sites with expertise and experience (and trust by the community) in Duchenne AND with clinical trial experience.

We discussed their commitment. And while it is true, none of the people we met with have a child with Duchenne, they all have a story about their interest in medicine, the soundtrack of their lives where the twists and turns of their careers brought them to this place, this world of Duchenne. And they seemed happy to be here, dedicated to making a difference and joined the ‘church’ of believers, that Duchenne can and will have treatments.

As you might imagine, we left with that same laundry list of questions in our head, but respected the fact that data would become public during the AAN meeting. We discussed protocols, asked if they would consider expanded access or compassion and the ever present “WHEN” question. No answers at the moment and all possibilities are in discussion.

GSK/Prosensa will release data from the European trial during the upcoming AAN meeting, April 12-17 i in Toronto. Exact date is April 15. Stay tuned.

PTC

Same qualifier as above. If you are looking for sub-analysis data and next steps, stop reading.

Later the same day, we met with Stuart Peltz, Langdon Miller, Theresa Nalatacchio, and Diane Goetz. Fatigue was obvious as the analysis continues. You all already know, I think the PTC folks are what my mother calls “good people.” I have known Stu Peltz for 7 years. He is committed to Duchenne. He is a fighter. With his team he is sorting the data, sifting through to see the path forward. They believe there is a path and I think this coincides with the community’s belief. It isn’t easy and the path is not crystal clear at this moment as they weight the arguments and plans for moving forward.

We discussed the fact that the community feels like the rug has been pulled out from under, that the messaging from the clinical sites varying and frustrating, that parents are worried about what happens physically and psychologically as the drug/compound is stopped. And that frustration has turned to anger and there is no place to put the anger. Stu and his colleagues understand.

I guess that’s hard to imagine from where you sit, but it was quite obvious on their faces. This was not the plan. PTC has been the pioneer, the oldest child (in a manner of speaking) trying to carve a path forward in the best way possible, with a community that has not participated in registration trials, a community that does not have rigorous natural history data, a community with high unmet medical needs, and a sense of urgency that is hard to actually put into words. An urgency that makes a parents’ blood flow feel like lava when their child falls, or stops walking, or worse.

I believe in PTC and believe that they are working very hard to develop a plan for success. We talked about access programs, about compassion, and talked about Genzyme’s program. I was surprised to learn that Genzyme’s program for expanded access involved less than 5 people. PTC has 200 +/- boys who have participated in trials to consider as they plan next steps. They are listening. But at the same time, they need to succeed, otherwise even expanded use or compassionate use would come to a stop.

Ataluren needs a path forward, so that all boys who could likely benefit, have access to that opportunity.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Katrina Revisited

I don’t know about you but I felt last week the Duchenne community was hit with our own hurricane, similar to the 5th deadliest hurricane in US history, 2005 Katrina. I’m not from New Orleans, but have a good friend, Diane, whose home was washed way when the levee system failed and neighboring parishes flooded. The 175 mile winds took everything - house, furniture, photos, memories, life as she knew it. While nearly 2,000 people lost their lives, her family managed to survive. She was in Cincinnati at the time, desperately seeking information and connections to those she loved. I could not imagine how she felt during that time, but saw it on her face: pain, desperation, sadness.

I cannot relate to Katrina, but on Saturday I felt like I was seeing the aftermath of our own ‘hurricane.’ The wind died down and the reality hit. As a community, we were left in the aftermath, trying to makes sense of the news, trying to find some meaning, some hope.

I have been following the discussions, the criticism, the sadness . These trial results are not what we expected or wanted. We all wanted a win for Duchenne. We depended on it as if it would feel like a neon sign that this one win would lead to more, would mean the stars were lining up just right. And sometimes when we hear bad news, everything else in the world looks bleak.

I must have asked Tom how he was feeling a million times, thinking the universe must be against us. Finally he told me I was simply not allowed to ask. I went to the nursing home to see my mother and this sweet 94-year-old German Catholic woman who taught me that "life is not a rehearsal and while you may not be able to control the boulders thrown in your path, you will find a way to walk around, over or compensate for them”; this lovely woman looked at me with tears in her eyes and said that ‘they’ were giving her pills to hurt her and there was no way to reason with her. She was afraid and I could not convince her that I knew what pills she was taking, that I was in contact with the doctors, that I would keep her safe. Senile dementia. I left feeling defeated, helpless. And my daughter Michelle moved into her new flat in London (Primrose Hill, Princess Lane), the boiler failed, and she had no heat or hot water. At that moment, I wanted to fly to London and bring her home to my safe house. (If you were to meet some of my relatives, you would understand that they typically do not allow children to move far from home). I called my other daughter Jenny to make sure she was safe. I had no reason to doubt it, but it felt like the universe had changed on its axis.

The discussions on the website reflect anger and sadness. We are all grieving. Discussions related to trial design – was it the right design? Was the 6 Minute Walk Test (6MWT) the best or worst choice as an outcome measure? How do you measure benefit in a population where clinical variability (function, progression, cognition) are highly variable? Should the stratification of the trial have been more precise as in eliminating boys who could not walk a certain distance (<350m) in the 6MWT? Too many sites/wrong sites? How much dystrophin expressed? What are the individual responses? Why can’t you change course in the middle of a trial? Do something different? Why suspend all trials? What about compassion? And what next?

I find the criticism and the desire to point the finger at someone or something incredibly sad and a bit overwhelming. I understand it as I have been angry since Duchenne entered my home, my vocabulary, my every thought. But it is DUCHENNE I hate, not the people. I thought about my own life and the decisions I have made and how with additional information, I might have made different decisions. I have made good decisions, bad decisions, ‘meh’ decisions (those are not so important decisions), and have had the opportunity to revise and re-do and some of the time, rethinking and redoing has improved the original decision by leaps and bounds. Pity that we don’t have a crystal ball.

On Saturday I received a call from a mom who had been contacted by another mom, whose son was not in the trial. The description of the call was sad – pointing the finger, criticizing people, recommending litigation. I was at first angry and then sadness fell on me like a wet blanket.

After that unsettling call, I drove to the Dorothy Lane Market in Dayton. I bought 3 way too expensive cookies (Laura’s large sugar cookies @ $3.00 per). If I was in New York, I would have gone to the Magnolia Bakery for cupcakes, but I was in Middletown, so the choices were limited. I ate all 3! I think it took less than 5 minutes to consume all of them, what may be upwards of a total of 3000 calories. While they were going down, I loved it. I thought it was perhaps the best investment ever. Then I went to my favorite shop in Hyde Park and tried on pants for summer. I could not button them at the waist and the way they looked in the mirror did not fit with the image I had in my head. So I left. In retrospect, I should not have eaten the cookies, should not have stopped running after freezing my bottom off in Florida in January, and should not have York Peppermint Patties sitting on my desk. Bad decisions and if I could get a do-over, I might make other choices.

Divorce/partners –another example. You marry your partner because it looks like a good decision at the time. Over time you learn more, life throws in a few boulders, and you find you need to make a different decision. And you do and the second time around it is sometimes better. Different factors, new knowledge, experience, wisdom. Your primary endpoint changed? Secondary endpoints different?

All this is trivial in light of a clinical trial that may mean the difference between maintaining/improving function or not and extending the length of life. But in some strange way, there are similarities. Decisions are made based on knowledge at the time. Trials are developed with advice and expertise from a range of individuals to include parents/patients – experts ( specific disease process, drug development, regulatory, business model, etc) and with all of that in mind, trials are conducted and data analyzed. The data informs and based on recommendations (in this case) the trial is suspended. Keep in mind, SUSPENDED is not ENDED. SUSPENDED to regroup, rethink, analyze, and clear the path forward.

I hear the phrase "compassionate use", but the case (based on current data primary /secondary outcomes) is not there.

So, we have to wait. Wait for sub-analysis. Wait for the plan. And once the path is developed, we will do whatever it takes to move toward success. Like you, I have heard the anecdotal stories –both positive and negative. I remain a believer –that Duchenne will have treatments and in the near future, that suppression of premature stops is a promising strategy. That exon skipping, utrophin upregulation, myostatin inhibition,
increasing nNOS – are all potentially promising.

But I am not ready to throw arrows at anyone or anything...except Duchenne.

We are all reeling in the aftermath of our first (and hopefully only) hurricane. We have all fallen apart in our own ways. Let’sgather, like my friend, go back and sift through what we have learned and moveforward together. Stu Peltz and everyone at PTC are committed to our sons. There is a way forward and we will find it.

P.S. Diane sorted through the rubble and found a picture of her dad in perfect condition.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Ataluren Results

Yesterday was really difficult.

In 1999 our Scientific Director Lee Sweeney published an article on Gentamycin and while that was good news, we knew Gentamycin could not be a lifelong therapy. Then PTC marched into our lives, committing time, talent, and millions of dollars. They paved a road where none had been before. They became friends, invested in our community and our sons.

Over the years, we watched as the words premature stop and PTC124 nearly became household words. We found ourselves hanging our heart on the concept of the first treatment for Duchenne, if only for a subset, knowing that we would do whatever it takes to expand our horizons until every boy had a treatment. PTC developed and executed the first pivotal study of a New Chemical Entity (NCE) in Duchenne.

This is a huge step in and of itself, recruitment completed two months ahead of schedule. Parents/families, physicians, industry all coming together from around the world. Duchenne was studied in a systematic way and more thoroughly than ever before.

The outcome we have received is devastating and the news yesterday threw all of us over the edge. This blow knocked the breath out of all of us and at least for a moment, some of the wind out of our sails. PTC will further analyze the data and we will learn more about the results and the trial.

I’m still hopeful we will see some light and with that, a path forward. Regardless, we are still believers in our sons, in our community, and in PTC.. There will be treatments for Duchenne and we will find them. That is certain. PTC has been building the road and will continue. They are not changing their commitment to our sons. They are acting in our best interests and will continue to stay focused on the road forward.

I just wish the road was a bit easier and without so many damn boulders.