Rare Disease Day
Posted on by Dr. Francis Collins
Tomorrow is Rare Disease Day at NIH, marking the 12th year that this annual event has been held on the NIH campus. Similar gatherings have been organized independently around the world this week, all to raise awareness for the nearly 7,000 rare diseases, some affecting just a few dozen people. But, collectively, rare diseases are hardly rare. One in 10 Americans has a rare disease (defined as affecting 200,000 or fewer individuals in the US), and about half are children. Without needed treatments, about 30 percent of these children will die by age 5.
To join everyone in raising awareness, I wanted to feature on my blog a unique perspective about rare diseases, and David Fajgenbaum certainly has one. Fajgenbaum is an immunologist and NIH grantee at the Perelman School of Medicine, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia. When Fajgenbaum isn’t running studies or clinical trials, he must remain vigilant of his own health. Fajgenbaum has a rare disease called idiopathic multicentric Castleman disease (iMCD), and this devastating condition, which emerged while he was in medical school, nearly claimed his life several times.
Now 34 years old and in a long remission, Fajgenbaum can discuss rare diseases as a doctor, as a patient, as a researcher, and as an advocate. His personal journey, published in his recent book Chasing My Cure, is a gripping read. Fajgenbaum was kind enough to answer a few of my questions on rare diseases and share some of his lessons learned.
The last time that I saw you, David, you looked great. How long have you been in remission?
I have been in remission for 73.83 months. I say 73.83, because I know that I can’t round up—I may relapse tomorrow. But I also refuse to round down because so many colleagues and I have worked so hard for every day of remission for me and other patients with my disease.
For me, every day is particularly special, because I never thought that I would be alive this long. As you know, I became deathly ill during medical school in 2010 and even had my last rites read to me when my doctors didn’t think I would survive. I was eventually diagnosed with idiopathic multicentric Castleman disease (iMCD), which is like a deadly cross between cancer and autoimmunity. Chemotherapy saved my life, but I would go on to have four near-death relapses.
After one of those relapses, I got out of the hospital and dedicated my life to conducting iMCD research and co-founded the Castleman Disease Collaborative Network (CDCN). Later, I identified a particular cellular pathway called mTOR that was highly active in my samples. I began testing on myself an mTOR inhibitor [sirolimus]—developed 30 years before and approved for kidney transplantation but never considered for iMCD. It’s this drug that has kept me in remission for the last 73.83 months and helped other people. During this time, I’ve been able to marry my wife, have a daughter, help launch a new center at Penn specializing in rare diseases, and write a book to share my personal journey with others.
As a physician-scientist and as a person with a rare disease, what have you learned about the biomedical research process?
I’ve learned so much, but I’d like to highlight three lessons in particular. First, we must leverage all perspectives to prioritize research and give us the best chance of translating research into meaningful breakthroughs. The traditional approach to rare disease research involves a subset of researchers within a rare disease field submitting their best ideas for funding and a panel selecting the best applicant.
Through the CDCN, we’ve spearheaded a new approach called the Collaborative Network Approach, where we crowdsource research questions from the entire community of patients, physicians, and researchers (not just a subset of researchers) and then recruit the best researchers in the world (not just from within the Castleman disease field) to perform the prioritized studies. We’re now working to improve and spread this approach to other diseases.
Second, collaboration between all players is critical. Patient advocacy groups are uniquely positioned to serve as the glue between all stakeholders. Researchers and physicians need to share ideas, data, and samples with one another. Patients need to be actively involved in research question prioritization and study design. Biopharma and the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) need to be engaged early in the process of research discoveries and drug development.
Third, we must leverage all 1,500-plus, existing FDA-approved drugs to help as many patients without any options as quickly as possible. As you know, less than 5 percent of the nearly 7,000 rare diseases have an FDA-approved therapy, but many diseases share similar cellular and genetic defects that could make them susceptible to the same drugs. I’m literally alive today thanks to a drug developed for another disease. How many of the drugs approved for one disease may be effective for many of the 7,000 diseases without any? I don’t know the answer, but I hope we can begin to address this important question and incentivize repurposing.
In your experience, how can people with rare diseases help to advance progress for their conditions?
There is so much work to be done for so many rare diseases. Sometimes it can feel so overwhelming and like “what can I really do?”
But I’ve learned that there are so many ways that we can each contribute and so many incredible examples of advocates who have made a difference for themselves and those that they love. Cystic fibrosis and chordoma are just two of many examples where patient-advocates have been critical partners in transforming their diseases.
People with rare diseases can raise funds for research. Every dollar truly counts. We can work with existing organizations for our disease to ensure that those funds are distributed as efficiently and effectively as possible. If there are major gaps within our rare disease fields that aren’t being addressed by existing organizations, we can start new rare disease organizations (but we should try to avoid this whenever possible). We can contribute samples and data towards research, participate in clinical trials, and share with other patients about our experiences. We can advocate for new drug development and repurposing already-FDA approved drugs for our diseases.
What would you tell other researchers who are studying rare diseases?
I would tell other rare disease researchers that you are doing such important work. You give us hope that a treatment can be identified that will change our lives. It’s an incredible responsibility and incredibly stressful. There are unfortunately far too many scientific questions and diseases with major unmet need for any of us to compete over the use of samples and data. We have to share these within our fields. And we must also work together across rare diseases. We can’t continue to reinvent the wheel; we must share learnings with one another
I enjoyed doing the CastleMan Warrior Flex with you. Tell us more about what it represents?
Doing the CastleMan Warrior Flex with you is one of my favorite pictures. In fact, it’s hanging up in my office.
Castleman disease was named after Dr. Benjamin Castleman, who first described our disease in 1954. We have repurposed the “Castleman” name to be a “CastleMan Warrior” (below is our cartoon mascot). We do the “CastleMan Warrior” Flex to raise awareness for Castleman disease and rare diseases generally—we’re all warriors in the rare disease space.
What are your future plans as a rare disease advocate and as a researcher?
We’ve made a lot of progress for Castleman disease: we’ve advanced our findings about mTOR towards a clinical trial, gained approval for the treatment siltuximab for iMCD, developed diagnostic criteria and treatment guidelines, and invested about $1.5 million into Castleman disease research, which has led to over $7 million in additional funding from other sources.
But we still have important work ahead of us. The treatments sirolimus and siltuximab work for only a portion of all iMCD patients. We need to identify more effective treatments for all forms of Castleman disease.
I will continue to study Castleman disease and other diseases at the intersection of autoimmunity and oncology to gain insights into how the immune system works in myriad diseases. In parallel, I will continue to advocate for the adoption of the “Collaborative Network Approach” to crowdsource all stakeholder perspectives as well as for new models for drug repurposing.
Any other issues that you’d like to address?
I feel a responsibility to share with the world the lessons that I’ve learned about life from nearly dying five times. This is a major reason that I wrote my book.
One lesson that I think about a lot is related to my growing up playing football. Some of my games were extended into an overtime period to decide the outcome. In overtime, every second counts and you’re totally focused on what’s important. I’ve lived with that exact same feeling ever since I had my last rites read to me.
I’ve also learned that humor can be incredibly powerful. You may think that a good laugh may be the last thing that you’d want to do when you’re dying in the ICU. But laughing with the people that I love actually helped me feel like I could transcend my illness, and it helped to connect us.
My greatest regrets on my deathbed were not things that I had done or said. I regretted what I didn’t do or didn’t say and that I would no longer be able to do. I now follow the motto: “Think It, Do It.” In other words, we should reflect on what we’re hoping for and then turn our hopes into action.
Finally, I’ve learned that it really takes a strong team to make a difference in the world, especially against diseases. If it was just me on my own, we would have made less than 1 percent of the progress that’s been achieved. I hope that all rare disease warriors will join together into strong teams, armies even, and make a difference in the world.
Multicentric Castleman Disease (Genetic and Rare Diseases Information Center/NIH)
Castleman Disease Collaborative Network (Paso Robles, CA)
His Doctors Were Stumped. Then He Took Over (New York Times, February 4, 2017)
Video: Chasing My Cure: Dr. David Fajgenbaum’s Lessons From His Rare Disease And On Finding Cures For Others (Exponential Medicine, November 4, 2019)
Rare Disease Day at NIH 2020 (National Center for Advancing Translational Sciences/NIH)
Posted on by Dr. Francis Collins
There are nearly 7,000 rare diseases, some of which affect just a few dozen people. Yet, if one considers all these conditions together, about 30 million people in the United States have rare diseases. On this Rare Disease Day, I’d like to challenge each of you to think about how we can raise the visibility of individuals living with rare diseases, as well as the researchers working hard to help them.
I’d like to introduce you to Harper Spero, who is using her rare gift of storytelling to share the experiences of people with a wide variety of conditions that she likes to call “invisible illnesses.” Through her podcast series, called Made Visible, this 34-year-old New York City native is among the many people helping to spread the word that rare diseases are not rare.
Spero knows what it’s like to live with a rare disease. Shortly after she was born, it became clear that she was unusually prone to infections. But doctors had a hard time figuring out what exactly was wrong with this little girl. Finally, at the age of 10, Spero was diagnosed with Hyper-Immunoglobulin E Syndrome (HIES), also known as Job’s syndrome. There currently is no cure for this rare genetic disease, which impairs the immune system and affects multiple parts of the body. But Spero is determined to live a normal life despite her chronic “invisible illness.”
Spero also knows what it’s like to take part in biomedical research. Seven years ago, she came to the NIH Clinical Center here in Bethesda, MD, seeking help for a large cyst in her right lung. It marked the beginning of a positive partnership with a Job’s syndrome research team led by two of NIH’s many dedicated physician-scientists, Alexandra Freeman and Steven Holland. Not only did the NIH researchers work with Spero to figure out the best ways of managing her symptoms, they are using what they’ve learned from her and about 175 other Job’s syndrome patients to develop approaches for earlier diagnosis and interventions. Spero, who visits the Clinical Center annually and communicates with the NIH team on a weekly basis, has been so inspired by the experience that she even chose to feature Dr. Freeman in one of her recent podcasts.
Unlike Spero, I don’t have a podcast—at least not yet. But I do have a blog, and Spero was kind enough to respond to a few of my questions on rare diseases and medical research. So, I’m sharing her thoughts below—I hope you are inspired by them as much as I was!
Why do you feel it is important for people with rare diseases to take part in medical research?
Without research, we can’t make any improvements, changes or find cures. Participating in medical research allows researchers and doctors to learn about the trends (or lack of) between patients, and determine what’s working and what’s not.
What have your own experiences been with the health-care system and medical research?
When I was younger, I really didn’t want to be a specimen. I was going through so much trying to find answers and treatments for myself that it was hard to think about how it would help other patients down the road to be sharing my experiences. I didn’t want to add another doctor’s visit to my schedule. After coming to NIH in 2012, I recognized the importance of being part of the research because it could essentially help me, other patients and for early detection of rare diseases. I recognize that the medical researchers are often much more compassionate than many doctors who simply treat symptoms. Researchers are curious and genuinely care to understand you and your story.
Your podcast is fantastic. How has it affected you to hear and share the stories of so many people affected by rare diseases?
I was definitely aware how many people were living with rare diseases, but I was surprised by how many people were willing to share their stories on my show and how many people wanted to listen to these stories. I hadn’t heard stories being shared in this way around this topic and I wanted to be the one who brought them to life. Many of my guests haven’t publicly (let alone with friends or family) shared their stories so I’m honored that they’re willing to do it with me. They see how important it is to have these conversations and to educate people on what it’s like to have an invisible illness.
What would you tell someone who’s just learned he or she has a rare disease?
You don’t have to do this alone! Find a team of medical professionals you trust to support you. I spent most of my life without a team of doctors that I loved and truly understood me, and now I can’t imagine my life without my team at NIH. Also, talk to your loved ones—let them know what you’re feeling and discuss how they can support you. This is likely new for them too and there’s no right way of navigating and managing a rare disease.
What would you tell a young person who’s considering becoming a rare disease researcher?
Thank you for your interest in doing this! We need more compassionate, curious and passionate people doing this work and investing their time to learn more and help find answers for rare diseases. Please treat us with respect and care.
If you could change one thing in the medical care/research of rare disease, what would it be? And what about in society in general?
There’s a way to do your job without treating patients like guinea pigs. We’re humans too, and we’re humans who have likely been through the wringer in the medical world. Be kind to us. Treat us the way you’d like to be treated. Compassion seems to be a word I’m using a lot. I think society can be more compassionate towards one another especially around rare disease. You can never fully understand what someone is going through so ask questions, show you care and treat people with kindness.
What are your hopes for the future?
I’d love there to be more answers and solutions for navigating a rare disease. A lot of the treatments I do are based on trial-and-error. What works for one patient definitely doesn’t always work for me. So, we’re constantly trying to navigate what works best for me. I’d love to see a cure to be found for Hyper IgE/Job’s Syndrome, as well as other rare diseases.
Podcast Series: Made Visible
NIH Patient Shares Stories of ‘Invisible Illness,’ The NIH Record, February 8, 2019
Hyper-Immunoglobulin E Syndrome (HIES) (National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases/NIH)
Rare Disease Day at NIH 2019 (National Center for Advancing Translational Sciences/NIH)
Video: Rare Disease Patient Profiles (NCATS)
Undiagnosed Diseases Network (Common Fund/NIH)
Video: One in a Million (Undiagnosed Diseases Network, University of Utah Health, Salt Lake City)
Posted on by Dr. Francis Collins
Four years ago, Valerie Arboleda accomplished something most young medical geneticists rarely do. She helped discover a rare congenital disease now known as KAT6A syndrome . From the original 10 cases to the more than 100 diagnosed today, KAT6A kids share a single altered gene that causes neuro-developmental delays, most prominently in learning to walk and talk, plus a spectrum of possible abnormalities involving the head, face, heart, and immune system.
Now, Arboleda wants to accomplish something even more groundbreaking. With a 2017 NIH Director’s Early Independence Award, she will develop ways to mine Big Data—the voluminous amounts of DNA sequence and other biological information now stored in public databases—to unearth new clues into the biology of rare disorders like KAT6A syndrome. If successful, Arboleda’s work could bring greater precision to the diagnosis and potentially treatment of Mendelian disorders, as well as provide greater clarity into the specific challenges that might lie ahead for an affected child.
Posted on by Dr. Francis Collins
In the early 1960s, reports began to surface that some children living in remote villages in East Africa were suffering mysterious episodes of “head nodding.” The condition, now named nodding syndrome, is recognized as a rare and devastating form of epilepsy. There were hints that the syndrome might be caused by a parasitic worm called Onchocerca volvulus, which is transmitted through the bites of blackflies. But no one had been able to tie the parasitic infection directly to the nodding heads.
Now, NIH researchers and their international colleagues think they’ve found the missing link. The human immune system turns out to be a central player. After analyzing blood and cerebrospinal fluid of kids with nodding syndrome, they detected a particular antibody at unusually high levels . Further studies suggest the immune system ramps up production of that antibody to fight off the parasite. The trouble is those antibodies also react against a protein in healthy brain tissue, apparently leading to progressive cognitive dysfunction, neurological deterioration, head nodding, and potentially life-threatening seizures.
The findings, published in Science Translational Medicine, have important implications for the treatment and prevention of not only nodding syndrome, but perhaps other autoimmune-related forms of epilepsy. As people in the United States and around the globe today observe the 10th anniversary of international Rare Disease Day, this work provides yet another example of how rare disease research can shed light on more common diseases and fundamental aspects of human biology.
Posted on by Dr. Francis Collins
Tomorrow, the National Institutes of Health (NIH) will mark the seventh annual Rare Disease Day. As part of that gathering, I’d like to share this amateur video. What you’ll hear is an adaptation of a song I once heard sung at a folk festival, but I’ve changed the words. I’m now dedicating this to all of the good people whose lives have been touched by rare diseases.
While the spur-of-the-moment camerawork leaves something to be desired, I love the spirit of this video. It was shot at a gathering of the Moebius Syndrome Foundation in Philadelphia in July 2012. Moebius syndrome is a rare neurological condition, present from birth, that primarily affects the muscles controlling facial expression and eye movement. However, if you watch the video all the way to the end, or read the lyrics at the bottom of this post, I think you’ll find that this song strikes a chord for all such rare conditions.
In the United States, rare diseases are defined as conditions that affect fewer than 200,000 people. That doesn’t sound like a lot. However, when you consider that more than 6,500 conditions fall into this category, rare diseases are a challenge collectively faced by as many as 25 million Americans.
Posted on by Dr. Francis Collins
Today is International Rare Disease Day. In honor of the occasion, I’d like to pay tribute to a few real-life heroes whose struggles have forever changed the landscape of rare disease research.
Folk singer Woody Guthrie is best known for his song, “This Land Is Your Land.” Written more than 70 years ago, “This Land” has taken its place among our nation’s great anthems, setting forth a vision of inclusiveness that has inspired generations of Americans to “sing along.” But the last couple of verses are often omitted. Here’s a version of one of them:
As I was walkin’—I saw a sign there
And that sign said—no trespassin’
But on the other side … it didn’t say nothin’!
Now that side was made for you and me!
These verses brought into the foreground those whom society had marginalized. “This Land” reminded us of their existence, challenged us to live up to our ideals—and include all people in our best vision of ourselves.
Woody performing one version of “This Land”:
Even as he was singing about inclusiveness, Woody Guthrie was starting a long battle against a disease that increasingly cast him outside mainstream society: Huntington’s disease. In most cases—and as was indeed the case for Woody—symptoms of Huntington’s disease do not appear until adulthood. Gradually, this rare, inherited neurological disorder seizes control of its sufferer’s body, mind—and even voice. In 1965, 13 years after he was diagnosed, Woody fell mute. He had long since lost his ability to play guitar. Two years later, he died at the age of 55.