Our 2021-22 Annual Report is now online. It’s filled with information about the work we have done over the last year (we are on a fiscal calendar year from July 1 – June 30), the people who have helped us do that work, and some of the people who have benefited from that work. One of those is Regina Karchner.
Regina Karchner says she feels as if she’s been a patient advocate for people with brain cancer almost from birth. When she was three, her father died of a brain tumor. When she was 16 Regina was diagnosed with brain cancer. While she was in the hospital she heard about the Children’s Brain Tumor Foundation (CBTF) and as soon as she was able she became a volunteer with the organization. Today she is a social work regional coordinator at CBTF.
She says that as an advocate she feels she has a responsibility to help families deal with devastating news, to talk about death, and how to cope with the emotional trauma of it. She also advocates on behalf of survivors, like herself.
“I am just such an advocate for the need for long term programming for brain cancer survivors, because it’s so different from other cancers. The emotional, cognitive and physical impacts of brain tumors are dramatic, that’s even if the individuals survive.
“We are working with people in their 40’s who were the first group of childhood survivors and there’s nowhere to go that matches their needs, they can’t function enough to live independently and work full time. It’s a big problem in the medical world and even in schools, they don’t understand brain tumors, they don’t see it as a traumatic brain injury which it is and even the most well-intended schools don’t really know what to do or handle the patients.”
“We found that survivors with better social skills have a better quality of life, so we are now trying to focus on kids in elementary school, giving them the social skills they need to survive and that are hard to catch up on later in life. They can get math or history or other subjects anytime, but the social skills are essential”
Regina also serves on a CIRM Clinical Advisory Panel or CAP for a clinical trial for children with brain cancer. She says having the patient advocate at the table is vital to the success of the trial. “I help the researchers understand the needs of the patient, even understand why families don’t enroll in trials. 80% of families who have kids with brain tumors are on Medicaid so it’s a select group of people who can afford to be in these trials. Letting the researchers know that and coming up with ways to help them is so important.”
She says it’s challenging work, but also very rewarding. “It feels wonderful to help families in a time of need. I feel I grow as a person and as a parent, I have learnt so much that helps me in my personal life and being grateful for having a healthy family and being a healthy survivor myself.”
CIRM’s mission is very simple: to accelerate stem cell treatments to patients with unmet medical needs. Anne Klein’s son, Everett, was a poster boy for that statement. Born with a fatal immune disorder Everett faced a bleak future. But Anne and husband Brian were not about to give up. The following story is one Anne wrote for Parents magazine. It’s testament to the power of stem cells to save lives, but even more importantly to the power of love and the determination of a family to save their son.
My Son Was Born With ‘Bubble Boy’ Disease—But A Gene Therapy Trial Saved His Life
I wish more than anything that my son Everett had not been born with severe combined immunodeficiency (SCID). But I know he is actually one of the lucky unlucky ones. By Anne Klein
As a child in the ’80s, I watched a news story about David Vetter. David was known as “the boy in the bubble” because he was born with severe combined immunodeficiency (SCID), a rare genetic disease that leaves babies with very little or no immune system. To protect him, David lived his entire life in a plastic bubble that kept him separated from a world filled with germs and illnesses that would have taken his life—likely before his first birthday.
I was struck by David’s story. It was heartbreaking and seemed so otherworldly. What would it be like to spend your childhood in an isolation chamber with family, doctors, reporters, and the world looking in on you? I found it devastating that an experimental bone marrow transplant didn’t end up saving his life; instead it led to fatal complications. His mother, Carol Ann Demaret, touched his bare hand for the first and last time when he was 12 years old.
I couldn’t have known that almost 30 years later, my own son, Everett, would be born with SCID too.
Everett’s SCID diagnosis
At birth, Everett was big, beautiful, and looked perfectly healthy. My husband Brian and I already had a 2-and-a-half-year-old son, Alden, so we were less anxious as parents when we brought Everett home. I didn’t run errands with Alden until he was at least a month old, but Everett was out and about with us within a few days of being born. After all, we thought we knew what to expect.
But two weeks after Everett’s birth, a doctor called to discuss Everett’s newborn screening test results. I listened in disbelief as he explained that Everett’s blood sample indicated he may have an immune deficiency.
“He may need a bone marrow transplant,” the doctor told me.
I was shocked. Everett’s checkup with his pediatrician just two days earlier went swimmingly. I hung up and held on to the doctor’s assurance that there was a 40 percent chance Everett’s test result was a false positive.
After five grueling days of waiting for additional test results and answers, I received the call: Everett had virtually no immune system. He needed to be quickly admitted to UCSF Benioff Children’s Hospital in California so they could keep him isolated and prepare to give him a stem cell transplant. UCSF diagnosed him specifically with SCID-X1, the same form David battled.
Beginning SCID treatment
The hospital was 90 miles and more than two hours away from home. Our family of four had to be split into two, with me staying in the hospital primarily with Everett and Brian and Alden remaining at home, except for short visits. The sudden upheaval left Alden confused, shaken, and sad. Brian and I quickly transformed into helicopter parents, neurotically focused on every imaginable contact with germs, even the mildest of which could be life-threatening to Everett.
When he was 7 weeks old, Everett received a stem cell transplant with me as his donor, but the transplant failed because my immune cells began attacking his body. Over his short life, Everett has also spent more than six months collectively in the hospital and more than three years in semi-isolation at home. He’s endured countless biopsies, ultrasounds, CT scans, infusions, blood draws, trips to the emergency department, and medical transports via ambulance or helicopter.
Gene therapy to treat SCID
At age 2, his liver almost failed and a case of pneumonia required breathing support with sedation. That’s when a doctor came into the pediatric intensive care unit and said, “When Everett gets through this, we need to do something else for him.” He recommended a gene therapy clinical trial at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) that was finally showing success in patients over age 2 whose transplants had failed. This was the first group of SCID-X1 patients to receive gene therapy using a lentiviral vector combined with a light dose of chemotherapy.
After the complications from our son’s initial stem cell transplant, Brian and I didn’t want to do another stem cell transplant using donor cells. My donor cells were at war with his body and cells from another donor could do the same. Also, the odds of Everett having a suitable donor on the bone marrow registry were extremely small since he didn’t have one as a newborn. At the NIH, he would receive a transplant with his own, perfectly matched, gene-corrected cells. They would be right at home.
Other treatment options would likely only partially restore his immunity and require him to receive infusions of donor antibodies for life, as was the case with his first transplant. Prior gene therapy trials produced similarly incomplete results and several participants developed leukemia. The NIH trial was the first one showing promise in fully restoring immunity, without a risk of cancer. Brian and I felt it was Everett’s best option. Without hesitation, we flew across the country for his treatment. Everett received the gene therapy in September 2016 when he was 3, becoming the youngest patient NIH’s clinical trial has treated.
It’s been more than two years since Everett received gene therapy and now more than ever, he has the best hope of developing a fully functioning immune system. He just received his first vaccine to test his ability to mount a response. Now 6 years old, he’s completed kindergarten and has been to Disney World. He plays in the dirt and loves shows and movies from the ’80s (maybe some of the same ones David enjoyed).
Everett knows he has been through a lot and that his doctors “fixed his DNA,” but he’s focused largely on other things. He’s vocal when confronted with medical pain or trauma, but seems to block out the experiences shortly afterwards. It’s sad for Brian and me that Everett developed these coping skills at such a young age, but we’re so grateful he is otherwise expressive and enjoys engaging with others. Once in the middle of the night, he woke us up as he stood in the hallway, exclaiming, “I’m going back to bed, but I just want you to know that I love you with all my heart!”
I wish more than anything that Everett had not been born with such a terrible disease and I could erase all the trauma, isolation, and pain. But I know that he is actually one of the lucky unlucky ones. Everett is fortunate his disease was caught early by SCID newborn screening, which became available in California not long before his birth. Without this test, we would not have known he had SCID until he became dangerously ill. His prognosis would have been much worse, even under the care of his truly brilliant and remarkable doctors, some of whom cared for David decades earlier.
When Everett was 4, soon after the gene therapy gave him the immunity he desperately needed, our family was fortunate enough to cross paths with David’s mom, Carol Ann, at an Immune Deficiency Foundation event. Throughout my life, I had seen her in pictures and on television with David. In person, she was warm, gracious, and humble. When I introduced her to Everett and explained that he had SCID just like David, she looked at Everett with loving eyes and asked if she could touch him. As she touched Everett’s shoulder and they locked eyes, Brian and I looked on with profound gratitude.
Anne Klein is a parent, scientist, and a patient advocate for two gene therapy trials funded by the California Institute for Regenerative Medicine. She is passionate about helping parents of children with SCID navigate treatment options for their child.
Adrienne Shapiro will tell you that she’s just a mom.
And it’s true. She is just a mom. Just a mom who is the fourth generation of mothers in her family to have children born with sickle cell disease. Just a mom who was an early advocate of innovative stem cell and gene therapy research by UCLA scientist Dr. Don Kohn which has led to an on-going, CIRM-funded clinical trial for sickle cell disease. Just a mom who is the patient advocate representative on a Clinical Advisory Panel (CAP) that CIRM is creating to help guide this clinical trial.
She’s just a mom who has become a vocal stem cell activist, speaking to various groups about the importance of CIRM’s investments in both early stage research and clinical trials. She’s just a mom who was awarded a Stem Cell and Regenerative Medicine Action Award at last month’s World Stem Cell Summit. She’s just a mom who, in her own words, “sees a new world not just for her children but for so many other children”, through the promise of stem cell therapies.
Yep, she’s just a mom. And it’s the tireless advocacy of moms like Adrienne that will play a critical role in accelerating stem cell therapies to patients with unmet medical needs. We can use all the moms we can get.
Adrienne Shapiro speaks to the CIRM governing Board about her journey as a patient advocate
For every clinical trial CIRM funds we create a Clinical Advisory Panel or CAP. The purpose of the CAP is to make recommendations and provide guidance and advice to both CIRM and the Project Team running the trial. It’s part of our commitment to doing everything we can to help make the trial a success and get therapies to the people who need them most, the patients.
Each CAP consists of three to five members, including a Patient Advocate, an external scientific expert, and a CIRM Science Officer.
Having a Patient Advocate on a CAP fills a critical need for insight from the patient’s perspective, helping shape the trial, making sure that it is being carried out in a way that has the patient at the center. A trial designed around the patient, and with the needs of the patient in mind, is much more likely to be successful in recruiting and retaining the patients it needs to see if the therapy works.
One of the clinical trials we are currently funding is focused on severe combined immunodeficiency disease, or SCID. It’s also known as “bubble baby” disease because children with SCID are born without a functioning immune system, so even a simple virus or infection can prove fatal. In the past some of these children were kept inside sterile plastic bubbles to protect them, hence the name “bubble baby.”
Anne Klein is the Patient Advocate on the CAP for the CIRM-funded SCID trial at UCSF and St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. Her son Everett was born with SCID and participated in this clinical trial. We asked Anne to talk about her experience as the mother of a child with SCID, and being part of the research that could help cure children like Everett.
“When Everett was born his disease was detected through a newborn screening test. We found out he had SCID on a Wednesday, and by Thursday we were at UCSF (University of California, San Francisco). It was very sudden and quite traumatic for the family, especially Alden (her older son). I was abruptly taken from Alden, who was just two and a half years old at the time, for two months. My husband, Brian Schmitt, had to immediately drop many responsibilities required to effectively run his small business. We weren’t prepared. It was really hard.”
(Everett had his first blood stem cell transplant when he was 7 weeks old – his mother Anne was the donor. It helped partially restore his immune system but it also resulted in some rare, severe complications as a result of his mother’s donor cells attacking his body. So when, three years later, the opportunity to get a stem cell therapy came along Anne and her husband, Brian, decided to say yes. After some initial problems following the transplant, Everett seems to be doing well and his immune system is the strongest it has ever been.)
“It’s been four years, a lot of ups and downs and a lot of trauma. But it feels like we have turned a corner. Everett can go outside now and play, and we’re hanging out more socially because we no longer have to be so concerned about him being exposed to germs or viruses.
His doctor has approved him to go to daycare, which is amazing. So, Everett is emerging into the “normal” world for the first time. It’s nerve wracking for us, but it’s also a relief.”
How Anne came to be on the CAP
“Dr. Cowan from UCSF and Dr. Malech from the NIH (National Institutes of Health) reached out to me and asked me about it a few months ago. I immediately wanted to be part of the group because, obviously, it is something I am passionate about. Knowing families with SCID and what they go through, and what we went through, I will do everything I can to help make this treatment more available to as many people as need it.
I can provide insight on what it’s like to have SCID, from the patient perspective; the traumas you go through. I can help the doctors and researchers understand how the medical community can be perceived by SCID families, how appreciative we are of the medical staff and the amazing things they do for us.
I am connected to other families, both within and outside of the US, affected by this disease so I can help get the word out about this treatment and answer questions for families who want to know. It’s incredibly therapeutic to be part of this wider community, to be able to help others who have been diagnosed more recently.”
The CAP Team
“They were incredibly nice and when I did speak they were very supportive and seemed genuinely interested in getting feedback from me. I felt very comfortable. I felt they were appreciative of the patient perspective.
I think when you are a research scientist in the lab, it’s easy to miss the perspective of someone who is actually experiencing the disease you are trying to fix.
At the NIH, where Everett had his therapy, the stem cell lab people work so hard to process the gene corrected cells and get them to the patient in time. I looked through the window into the hall when Everett was getting his therapy and the lab staff were outside, in their lab coats, watching him getting his new cells infused. They wanted to see the recipient of the life-saving treatment that they prepared.
It is amazing to see the process that the doctors go through to get treatments approved. I like being on the CAP and learning about the science behind it and I think if this is successful in treating others, then that would be the best reward.”
“We still have to fly back to the NIH, in Bethesda, MD, every three months for checkups. We’ll be doing this for 15 years, until Everett is 18. It will be less frequent as Everett gets older but this kind of treatment is so new that it’s still important to do this kind of follow-up. In between those trips we go to UCSF every month, and Kaiser every 1-3 weeks, sometimes more.
I think the idea of being “cured”, when you have been through this, is a difficult thing to think about. It’s not a word I use lightly as it’s a very weighted term. We have been given the “all clear” before, only to be dealt setbacks later. Once he’s in school and has successfully conquered some normal childhood illnesses, both Brian and I will be able to relax more.
One of Everett’s many doctors once shared with me that, in the past, he sometimes had to tell parents of very sick children with SCID that there was nothing else they could do to help them. So now to have a potential treatment like this, he was so excited about a stem cell therapy showing such promise.
One thing we think about Everett and Alden, is that they are both so young and have been through so much already. I’m hoping that they can forget all this and have a chance to grow up and lead a normal life.”
It’s not hard to find people who don’t like the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA), the government agency that, among other things, regulates medical therapies. In fact, if you type “do people like the FDA?” into an internet search engine you’ll quickly find out that for a lot of people the answer is “no”.
But the Agency is trying to change and deserves credit for taking seriously many of the criticisms that have been levelled at it over the years and trying to address them.
The latest example is the news that the FDA has set a date for the first-ever meeting of its first-ever Patient Engagement Advisory Committee (PEAC). On its website, the FDA says the PEAC will be focused on patient-related issues:
“The PEAC is a forum for the voice of patients. It will be asked to advise on complex issues related to medical devices and their impact on patients. The goal of PEAC is to better understand and integrate patient perspectives into our oversight, to improve communications with patients about benefits, risks, and clinical outcomes related to medical devices, and to identify new approaches, unforeseen risks or barriers, and unintended consequences from the use of medical devices.”
In the past, the FDA has created forums to allow patients to talk about the impact of a disease on their daily life and their views on treatment options. But those were considered by many to be little more than window dressing, providing a sounding boards for patients but not actually producing any tangible benefits or changes.
The FDA also has patient representatives who take part in FDA advisory committee meetings, but the PEAC is the first time it has ever had a committee that was solely focused on patients and their needs. The nine core members of the PEAC all have experience either as patients or patient advocates and care-givers for patients. A really encouraging sign.
We tip our CAP to the FDA
At CIRM we support anything that ensures that patients not only have a seat at the table, but also that their voices are heard and taken seriously. That’s why for every clinical trial we fund (and even some pre-clinical projects too) we create what we call a Clinical Advisory Panel or CAP (we do love our acronyms).
Each CAP consists of three to five members, with a minimum of one Patient Representative, one External Advisor and one CIRM Science Officer. The purpose of the CAP is to make recommendations and provide guidance and advice to the Project Team running the trial.
Having a Patient Representative on a CAP ensures the patient’s perspective is included in shaping the design of the clinical trial, making sure that the trial is being carried out in a way that has the patient at the center. Patients can ask questions or raise issues that researchers might not think about, and can help the researchers not only do a better job of recruiting the patients they need for the trial, but also keeping those patients involved. We believe a trial designed around the patient, and with the patient in mind, is much more likely to be successful.
In announcing the formation of the PEAC the FDA said:
“Patients are at the heart of what we do. It makes sense to establish an advisory committee built just for them.”
I completely agree.
My only regret is that they didn’t call it the Patient Engagement Advisory Committee for Health, because then the acronym would have been PEACH. And this is certainly a peach of an idea, one worthy of support.
Battling a deadly disease like cancer or Alzheimer’s is difficult; but battling a rare and deadly disease is doubly so. At least with common diseases there is a lot of research seeking to develop new treatments. With rare diseases there is often very little research, and so there are fewer options for treatment. Even just getting a diagnosis can be hard because most doctors may never have heard about, let alone seen, a case of a disease that only affects a few thousand individuals.
That’s why the last day of February, every year, has been designated Rare Disease Day. It’s a time to raise awareness amongst the public, researchers, health professionals and policy makers about the impact these diseases have on the lives of those affected by them. This means not just the individual with the problem, but their family and friends too.
There are nearly 7,000 diseases in the U.S. that are considered rare, meaning they affect fewer than 200,000 people at any given time.
No numbers no money
The reason why so many of these diseases have so few treatment options is obvious. With diseases that affect large numbers of people a new treatment or cure stands to make the company behind it a lot of money. With diseases that affect very small numbers of people the chances of seeing any return on investment are equally small.
Fortunately at CIRM we don’t have to worry about making a profit, all we are concerned with is accelerating stem cell treatments to patients with unmet medical needs. And in the case of people with rare diseases, those needs are almost invariably unmet.
As in everything we do our involvement is not just about funding research – important as that is – it’s also about engaging with the people most affected by these diseases, the patient advocate community. Patient advocates help us in several ways:
Collaborating with us and other key stakeholders to try and change the way the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) works. Our goal is to create an easier and faster, but no less safe, method of approving the most promising stem cell therapies for clinical trial. With so few available treatments for rare diseases having a smoother route to a clinical trial will benefit these communities.
Spreading the word to researchers and companies about CIRM 2.0, our new, faster and more streamlined funding opportunities to help us move the most promising therapies along as fast as possible. The good news is that this means anyone, anywhere can apply for funding. We don’t care how many people are affected by a disease, we only care about the quality of the proposed research project that could help them.
Recruiting Patient Advocates to our Clinical Advisory Panels (CAPs), teams that we assign to each project in a clinical trial to help guide and inform the researchers at every stage of their work. This not only gives each project the best possible chance of succeeding but it also helps the team stay focused on the mission, of saving, and changing, people’s lives.
Helping us recruit patients for clinical trials. The inability to recruit and retain enough patients to meet a project’s enrollment requirements is one of the biggest reasons many clinical trials fail. This is particularly problematic for rare diseases. By using Patient Advocates to increase our ability to enroll and retain patients we will increase the likelihood a clinical trial is able to succeed.
Organizing to fight back
There are some great organizations supporting and advocating on behalf of families affected by rare diseases, such as the EveryLife Foundation and the National Organization for Rare Diseases (NORD). They are working hard to raise awareness about these diseases, to get funding to do research, and to clear away some of the regulatory hurdles researchers face in being able to move the most promising therapies out of the lab and into clinical trials where they can be tested on people.
For the individuals and families affected by conditions like beta thalassemia and muscular dystrophy – potentially fatal genetic disorders – every day is Rare Disease Day. They live with the reality of these problems every single day. That’s why we are committed to working hard every single day, to find a treatment that can help them and their loved ones.
Alisha Bouge is the project manager for CIRM’s Clinical Advisory Panels (CAPs)
On the cusp of the official kickoff to football season, CIRM has had its own kickoff to celebrate. The first Clinical Advisory Panel (CAP) meeting took place on August 18, 2015 in Irvine, CA with Caladrius Bioscience, Inc. And just as every NFL team starts the season hopeful of a Super Bowl win, all our CAPs start out with equally lofty goals. That’s because under CIRM 2.0, the role of the CAP is to work with the clinical stage project teams we fund to help accelerate the development of therapies for patients with unmet medical needs and to give these projects the greatest likelihood of success.
Obstacles and challenges are inevitable in the lifecycle of research. CIRM hopes to help its grantees navigate through these hurdles as quickly and positively as possible by providing recommendations from expert advisors in the field. The intention is for the CAP meeting process to be that navigating vessel throughout the lifetime of each clinical stage project.
The CAPs will include at least three members: one CIRM science officer, a patient representative, and an external scientific advisor. The CAP will meet with the project team approximately four times a year, with the first meeting taking place in-person. Consider the CAP as the grantee’s special team, doing all they can to get that two-point conversion at the end of an already successful outcome, giving the grantee and their team just a few more points in their pocket to reach the ultimate success.
CIRM CAP on a tour of Caladrius’ facility in Irvine, CA. The CIRM CAP can be seen in the far right of the photo (left to right) Randy Lomax (Patient Representative), Ingrid Caras (CIRM Sr. Science Officer), and Hassan Movahhed (External Scientific Advisor).
As the lead Science Officer on this first CAP, CIRM’s Ingrid Caras stated: “This is our opportunity to be good stewards of the taxpayers’ money.”
The mission and the message of the CAP was well received by Caladrius. After the CAP meeting, Anna Crivici, VP of Operations & Program Management at Caladrius, had this to say about her experience:
Anna Crivici, Caladrius
I thought that the meeting was very productive. Everyone on the Caladrius team appreciates the collaborative approach CIRM is taking on the program, as amply demonstrated during our successful first meeting. The discussion on every agenda topic was helpful and insightful. The opportunity to better understand the patient perspective will be especially beneficial and increasingly important as the Phase 3 program progresses. We are confident that this and future CAP meetings will help us advance and refine our strategic planning and execution.
CIRM CAP and members of Caladrius discussing operational strategies for success.
CIRM is looking forward to the 2015/2016 CAP season. And while there is no Super Bowl incentive at the end of our season, there is the hope that CIRM’s efforts, both financially and collaboratively, will contribute to successful treatments for so many out there in need. That’s something well worth cheering for.