A UNIVERSAL CANCER CURE? Maybe a glimmer of hope.

Linda and Raelyn Joyce

Borrego Springs, 2009

Now let’s see if I’ve got this straight.  There is a gene named p53 (sounds like a WWII fighter plane) that is sometimes referred to as the “Angel of Death”.  This gene “codes for” a protein that tells badly damaged cells to go ahead and die.  To illustrate the depth of my learning, I could have said that “P53 initiates apoptosis”, but of course I would never show off like that.  Anyway, cancer cells certainly are “badly damaged”, but p53 lets them go on their way, multiplying and causing trouble.  Why?  Well, apparently cancer cells defend themselves in one of two ways: they either disable the p53 gene (mutation) – I may have cause and effect a little screwed up here, but never mind; - or they disable the p53 protein by attaching another big biochemical blob – MDM2 - to it.  Thus, two ways to fight cancer, both involving p53:  P53 has long been known as a key player in the cancer game; Science magazine named it “Molecule of the Year” way back in 1993, and interest in it has been intense ever since.   So why is there still cancer?  As with so many other promising avenues in cancer research, initial euphoria gives way to “Well, hell, it’s a lot more complicated that I thought.”

An attempt has been made to insert healthy p53 genes into cancerous cells, so far to no avail, although efforts to do so continue.  A more promising approach has been to attack that portion of cancers (I gather it’s large) enabled to prosper  by virtue of the MDM2-p53 protein union, this by administering a drug that delivers a small molecule that will pry the two apart.  (How in heaven’s name do they do stuff like that?).  An experimental drug doing this has cured one type of cancer in mice, completely and without any fuss.  (Of course, one of the researchers is quoted as saying “If we just wanted to cure cancer in mice we would have been out of a job 30 years ago”).   Small scale “efficacy” trials in humans currently are under way.  There are three big drug companies competing to get the best drug on the market first: Merck, Roche, and Sanofi.  Curiously, there is another, much smaller, company that is leading the race: Cellceutrix, with their drug Kevetrin.  Reader comments to the NYTimes article I am paraphrasing (http://nyti.ms/XZS1PB) include two from people associated with Celleutrix, expressing outrage that their little company was ignored in the article.  Expect Pfizer or  Novartis or the like to buy out Celleutrix and thus get in the game,  making a few multi-millionaire biochemists as a bi-product.  By God, if they can cure cancer – any cancer, let alone a whole bunch of them – they deserve their reward.

Because, you see, this type of clinical treatment supposedly is independent of cancer type or origin; it should work equally well with many cancer types, common and uncommon – ovarian, alas, not mentioned.  Back during the Nixon administration the Feds initiated a “war on cancer”, visualized as  a medical version of the moon-landing program.  It failed, not least because cancer was found to be so disparate – there isn’t a “cancer”; rather, there are a whole host of cancers, each with its own characteristics.  Now, maybe there is hope for a general cure, after all - and p53 may be our White Knight.

By the way, the book “The Emperor of All Maladies: A biography of cancer” has a very readable – if at  times horrifying – history of cancer treatment.  Read it only if you have a strong stomach.

This blog comes to you indirectly from Dick Ingwall, who did not write it but fed me the information (again, http://nyti.ms/XZS1PB).  Dick deserves to be co-author on many of my blogs, but he is too modest to allow it.  Or maybe he simply is protecting his scientific integrity.





NOT OC. I NEED HELP. I shouldn't, but I do.

This blog item is too trivial to merit a picture.

I am freightened by TV remotes, so why did I think I could manage cell phones and email?  The sad fact is that I have so screwed up my hotmail account that I can no longer access it, and they won't let me change the password until I convince them I am me, which I have been unable to do.  In desperation I have started a gmail account.  Please write me there; the address is mebeckjr@gmail.com.  Also if you have written me any important emails in the last three or four days, please forward them there.  Also, have a good Christmas; I am doing my best to have one, too.  Myrl

Oh, PS.  My cell phone ate my telephone file, so if you think there is any change that you will want a call from me, please email your number.

MAN"S BEST FRIEND. Maybe the dog after all.

Linda and friend

Mennonite village, northern Mexico, 2010

Did you know that dogs suffer from many of the same cancers as humans do?  I certainly didn’t.  Furthermore, given their “compressed” life spans (relative to us) the rate of progression of their cancers is higher than in humans.  Throw in the cost of vet services and you can see that the poor devils don’t have it so good.  So, I guess it is to everyone’s benefit – Canis familiaris as well as Homo sapiens – that scientists are using dogs in cancer research.  They don’t induce cancer in dogs (as they do with mice); rather they treat family pets.  Thus the dogs get advanced treatment and may be cured or have their lives extended – and humankind gets more knowledge.  A win-win situation, I think.

Some of the advantages of using dogs, instead of mice or humans  in cancer experiments are the following:

You have to buy the mice, and maintain them.  Dog owners, who are grateful for your attention, bring in their pets for free.

Tumors that arise naturally in dogs are more similar to human tumors than those induced in mice.

The dog gets free vet attention.

Dog’s cancers progress more rapidly than the same cancers in humans, enabling scientists to observe the efficacy of a drug or treatment in “real time”, so to speak.

And, on a lighter note:

Dogs never need to sign consent forms, they rarely hire lawyers, they don’t go on vacation, and you never have to explain to them just what in heck you are doing.

No dog ever pulled out of a clinical trial and elected to cure its condition using health foods and/or prayer.

Even when you hurt them, dogs still love you.

I wrote earlier (blog for 3/12/12) that the mouse, not the dog, was man’s best friend.  I may have been wrong

  

THE 2012 BECK FAMILY CHRISTMAS LETTER

Well, shoot - the Beck family now consist of only me, but I am sure that Linda would want me to keep the tradition going, so here it is.  Many of you will receive a paper copy in due course.  With more pictures.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

&

a very HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Without Linda here to gently remind me, I might have totally forgotten about the Christmas letter until it was too late.  However, my neighbors’ lights reminded me.  I am tempted to simply cover the page with pictures, write a few of the usual words, and let it go at that.  Instead, I will give a brief outline of what my life is like now that I am rattling around in a big, empty house.  Really, it isn’t so bad – but it could be a whole lot better.

Most of you know that I am volunteering three days per week in Seattle: Mondays at the Fred Hutchinson Center for Cancer Research, and Tuesdays/Wednesdays at the Marsha Rivkin Center for Ovarian Cancer Research.  I also write a blog (http://ljb-quiltcutie.blogspot.com) describing my adventures.  It is supposed to be funny, but I attempt to sneak in a little information about cancer research.  With Fred Hutch I am a “Research Advocate”, so this blog is one way to advocate, I guess.  With the Rivkin people I just do odd-jobs of a clerical nature, thus freeing time for people with more skills to put them to work in the research end.  When I am in Seattle I stay with my daughter Karen, which gives me a chance to know her better.  So I stay busy and try to be useful.  Do I miss Linda very much?  All the time.

I went to our place in Borrego Springs for a few days early in the Fall, and I’m going back right after Christmas.  I will give a few geology lectures to the Paleontology Society, and help them rewrite the geology section of their student documents.  I also will explore the desert in my new jeep Wrangler.  And go out to dinner a lot – the ladies in the Paleo group take good care of me.

The entire Beck/Kelly clan met here for Thanksgiving, which was a great pleasure.  My kids’ careers continue apace.  Of my three grandkids, the oldest (Amanda) is married and working for Alaska Fish & Game, the second (Olivia) will graduate from WWU this year, and the youngest (Angelina) is a freshman at Montana State University, in Bozeman.  I see Carolyn, Linda’s sister, several times each year.  She helps me with my computer problems, of which there is an endless supply.  I play a little golf when it is warm (I should say “play at golf”: because my game is so bad.)  My cats are fine, my monkey-puzzle tree is magnificent, and I just got a new computer, which promises to give me endless hours of frustration.   My family decided to skip presents this year and donate to ovarian cancer research instead.  If you decide to do the same, go to Linda’s tribute (http://getinvolved.fhcrc.org/goto/lindajoycebeck) and follow the instructions.

The world is supposed to come to an end on December 21^st.  In case it doesn’t – HAVE A WONDERFUL 2013.

KICK-START YOUR T-cells, and hope for the best

These bears had the misfortune to cross the path of Paul Kelly.
Never mess with a kid from Wisconsin

1987

Dick Ingwall again has furnished me with an excuse to write a blog-bit.  Again, the article is in the NY Times, and its web address is http://nyti.ms/VxuHXB.  Again, since I know you won’t read it even if I ask you to, I will summarize.

It appears that a 7-year-old girl in Pennsylvania who was near death a year ago, from something nasty called acute lymphoblastic leukemia, is now healthy, happy and bouncing around (see video recommended in the appended "comment").  She owes this truly remarkable result to a new treatment developed at the University of Pennsylvania.  The treatment is still regarded as experimental but has been used on several leukemia victims who had nothing left to lose.  The results have been mixed: several adults and our little girl have obtained what seems to be complete remission, several others have had partial success, and several more got no benefit whatsoever.  Naturally, they (the U. Penn people) are trying to figure out why. 

The treatment consists of extracting a few million T-cells from the patient, then using a dead HIV virus as a “vector” to insert a new gene into them, whereupon they are re-injected back into the patient.  The idea is  to alert the T-cells (part of the immune system) to the presence of an enemy, whereupon they go to work.  (Sometimes they are referred to as “Killer T-cells”.) 

The results can be horrendous.  In the case of our little girl, death very nearly ensued.  She ran a high fever, became swollen “beyond recognition”, was on a ventilator, and unconscious for a week.
Through the good offices of a drug called (well, it’s unnamed) she recovered.  May she never relapse.

This treatment so interested the Swiss drug company Novartis that they are giving $ 20 million to found a new research facility at U. Penn.  The economics of this is interesting.  This T-cell modification technique calls for personalized treatment: no drug can be put on the market to be taken by millions.  The cost of the treatment is said to be about $20,000.  (This, however, contrasts favorably with the cost of an alternative treatment – bone marrow transplant – which costs significantly more and, I seem to gather, is less effective.  It is not clear to me how Novartis (full disclosure - I own a few shares of their stock) hopes to profit from this research.  Being Swiss, I'm sure they have figured it out.

There is some hope that similar methods can be used to attack solid tumors.  Maybe even ovarian cancer, I hope. 

I stumbled on the NY Times “comments” appended to this article.  They are interesting.  Naturally, most consisted of something on the order of “Thank God”, or “I am so happy for the family.”  A minority, however, took umbrage at the notion that a drug company would seek to profit from a life-saving treatment, whereas an equal number replied “How else would they have enough money to develop new drugs and endow research facilities, you blockhead?”  No doubt the first group would suggest that the government do the work, design the drugs, and distribute them at cost.  There are examples of this (well, minus the distributing part) that work:  The NCI, for instance.  However, having once worked for a Federal scientific agency, I really don’t think this is the way to go.



THE MARSHA RIVKIN CENTER FOR OVARIAN CANCER RESEARCH.

Linda at the Copper Canyon, northern Mexico

Our last trip, 2010

It is a Thursday morning; raining, of course.  Last night I got back from Seattle at dinner time, barely in time to prevent my cats from starving to death. (At least that is the impression the wanted to convey.)  I usually get back on Tuesdays, and that was the amount of food I left them.  From now on I’ll have to supply more, because I think I will be spending most Tuesdays and Wednesdays at the Marsha Rivkin Center for Ovarian Cancer Research.  (Let’s call it MRC from now on.)  Let me tell  you about it.

The MRC is housed in a small suite on the 7^th floor of the Heath Building, which is attached to Swedish Hospital (see below.)  As far as I can make out, it employs less than a dozen people.  It has two main functions.  It raises money for ovarian cancer research, and doles it out in small increments ($60K-$ 75K)  to worthy cancer researchers, either as small starter grants for established scientists who want to probe some new approach, or as support for younger people (working in the ovarian field, of course) to help them get started.  It also runs clinical trials of its own.  MRC works hand in glove with my lab at Fred Hutch; the two even share staff. 

MRC is the creation of Dr. Saul Rivkin.  His wife died of ovarian cancer.  Dr. Rivkin is an oncologist, and he still practices.  In his spare time he has conceived, organized, helped fund, and to some extent supervised MRC.  I am in awe of the guy, although I have yet to meet him.  I wish I had done something half so important with my life.  Dr. Rivkin, I believe, has his practice at Swedish Hospital, which I turn to next.

Ah, Swedish.  Where MRC is compact and orderly, Swedish is sprawling, disorganized, and nearly impossible to navigate.  It is not actually a hospital, it is a medical conglomerate with a hospital imbedded somewhere inside.  From the map they give visitors it seems to cover something in excess of eight city blocks.  That same sketchy map shows about 20 named buildings; all multi-story, of course; some in excess of 10 floors.  It shows five garages; the one I will park in (free parking!) is six levels underground.  No doubt Stockholm is the largest Swedish city, but on a busy day I’ll bet the Swedish Hospital complex runs it a close second.  All these buildings are tied together - without a vestige of system - by a maze of walkways, tunnels and sky bridges.  Nobody has mastered them all.  A person who appeared to know told me that patients and visitors sometimes are found huddled in a corner, weeping with uncontrollable frustration at their inability to find their way.  We “staff” are morally obligated to help them, although what help I could give is doubtful.  Remember the Kingston Trio?  They wrote a song about the Boston Subway system; “trapped forever ‘neath the streets of Boston; he’s the man who never came home”.  The words popped into my head when I had to ask three people how to get from Employee Health to the Heath Building, and one of them had no idea!

I was planning to end this blog with a cute little allusion to Thesius and the Minotaur, but the analogy is too far fetched.  Besides, the only dangerous creature I am likely to encounter in the Swedish labyrinth probably would be armed with a stethoscope.