A proud Huntington’s disease gene carrier’s message to his ‘miracle baby’ daughter on her senior year in college

 

When I tested positive for the Huntington’s disease genetic mutation in 1999, at 39, I was convinced I was doomed to repeat my HD-stricken mother’s onset of symptoms in her late 40s.

 

I had tested because my wife Regina and I wanted to plan for children, who, if I had the mutation, would also have a 50-50 chance of inheriting it.

 

We decided to have a child before the availability of preimplantation genetic diagnosis (PGD), which involves in vitro fertilization of embryos without the mutation. So, we had our daughter Bianca tested in the womb. Her negative result in early 2000 was one of the happiest moments of our life. She was our “miracle baby.”

 

Now, 21 years later, Bianca has started her senior year at the University of Pennsylvania, where she is finishing a U.S. history honors thesis. She has flourished in her classes and successfully taken on several leadership roles.

 

Bianca understood from about the age of two that her grandmother was ill with a genetic disease. HD transformed my mother into a mere physical and mental shadow of herself, taking her life at 68 in 2006. Four years later, when Bianca was 9, she learned that I, too, was at risk but that she was not.

 

I have been extremely lucky. I am almost 62 and was found to have no HD symptoms at my recent annual neurological checkup. I have perhaps benefited from the positive action of modifier genes and a far greater opportunity than my mother had – we had never heard of HD prior to her diagnosis – to prepare for the disease.

 

As Bianca navigates the challenges of senior year and prepares for post-college life, I want to provide her with a message of hope, challenge, and some of the wisdom I have picked up along my own life’s journey, including our family’s struggle against Huntington’s. My letter to Bianca follows after the photo below.

 

Regina Serbin (left), Gene Veritas (aka Kenneth P. Serbin), and Bianca Serbin at the Edge sky deck during a visit to New York City in August 2021 to celebrate Bianca's 21st birthday (photo by Devon Riley)

 

Dearest Bianca,

 

When you graduate next May, you and your classmates will come of age at a time of immense challenges.

 

I am impressed with how you (and so many other students of all levels) have shown great fortitude and flexibility when forced into the new reality of online learning and social distancing during the monumental disruptions of the COVID-19 crisis.

 

I was happy to see that this semester Penn has moved students back into the classroom, allowing you to recover some of the lost joy of the college years.

 

With the rapid development of highly effective RNA-based vaccines, many of us are reaping the fruits of the biotechnological breakthroughs of our era. Researchers are also exploring a variety of such genetics-based approaches as potential Huntington’s treatments. Because many of these advances promise to change our very nature, they will pose ethical dilemmas.

 

Our family has lived this in the flesh. The biomedical revolution made it possible for you to know your life will be free of Huntington’s. However, as you have learned, being HD-free does not mean being challenge-free. Far from it!

 

But the freedom from HD has enabled you to plan a life in which you can strive for academic and professional excellence, and to develop your personal qualities.

 

As you venture forth, remember always that you’re not going it alone. You can rely on others, just as you should be available to support others. Life is a collective endeavor, as our family has learned so well from the fight against HD. As I always tell people dealing with the initial shock of discovering Huntington’s in their families, “together we will beat this disease!”

 

In your drive for personal success, cherish the preciousness of time, as I have learned to do in confronting the fears of HD. Use ambition to push ahead, but don’t let it dominate your inner good. Always make time for family and friends.

 

Take time to meditate and cultivate your spirituality, because I believe that we all have such a dimension, independent of any belief system or organized religion. As you have done at Penn, find ways in your life to connect to something larger than you.

 

Bianca, I’m elated with how we have come to share many passions: for writing, the study of history, historical movies (especially war films), music, our dog Lenny, and our family.

 

Because of HD, your grandmother could barely hold you as a baby. Your “HD warrior” caregiver grandfather loved you deeply. I wish they could have shared your college years.

 

I have not wanted you to worry about me getting HD, which is a major reason that I have strived so hard to maintain good health – and to support the search for treatments that could save me from HD’s inevitable though often unpredictable symptoms.

 

You and Mom have joined me at Hope Walks and other fundraisers, and in 2017 you gave up the chance to attend your junior prom to take part in Pope Francis’ special audience with the HD community in Rome. I so deeply appreciated having you by my side during that breathtaking moment.

 

I am thrilled and thankful to have the clarity of mind to enjoy your progress towards graduation. You have made me deeply proud.

 

Because of our and so many other families’ dedication to the HD cause, and also thanks to the researchers, I remain ever hopeful for an HD treatment in my lifetime. If that moment comes, I know that no matter where you are geographically and professionally, we will celebrate with tears of joy.

 

I hope HD strikes me minimally and very late in life, as I have seen in some cases. Together our family has seen many people with HD fight tremendously to overcome the disease, and their caregivers devote every ounce of strength. As it has throughout our journey, the hope for both my good health and the arrival of treatments will continue to sustain us ­– even beyond the start of any symptoms that might occur.

 

No matter what difficulty, please remember that I have always treasured our great moments together and watching you grow as a person.

 

No one knows what tomorrow will bring. In this moment, let’s cherish the positive, including the fact that you, Mom, and I are healthy. As your senior year progresses, I want to celebrate our joy together as you prepare to graduate.

 

Raising you has brought Mom and me greater meaning and purpose – and, above all, lots of love to share.

 

Healthy and ambitious, you are poised, with your generation, to leave your mark on the world.

 

Congratulations on your senior year! Enjoy the ride!

 

Love,

 

Dad

 

 

 

The Serbin Family Team of the Huntington's Disease Society of America San Diego Chapter's  2014 Hope Walk: from left to right, Dory Bertics, Bianca Serbin, Jane Rappoport, Gary Boggs, Yi Sun, Kenneth Serbin, Regina Serbin, and Allan Rappoport (photo by Bob Walker)

SuperTerry destroys the evil monster Huntington’s disease

Fifteen-year-old San Diegan Terry Leach wants to destroy Huntington’s disease, the condition that has devastated him since his toddler years and threatens to take his life very soon.

Terry’s story deeply moved San Diego artist Lee Ellingson to imagine a different outcome. In Lee’s Superman-like comic-book-style rendition (below), Terry has overcome HD by becoming “SuperTerry.” SuperTerry knocks out Huntington’s and saves the world from the ravages of the deadly disease that afflicts an estimated 30,000 Americans and could devastate as many as 250,000 more Americans who live at risk.

SuperTerry is vigorous, powerful, and triumphant. He beams with the joy of restored health and newfound happiness that the real-life Terry – along with every other victim of HD and juvenile HD – hopes for as scientists seek effective treatments and a cure.

“Wouldn’t it be great if this Huntington’s disease was like some kind of monster and Terry had super powers and could defeat the monster?” Lee told me in an interview. “That was my idea. It just kills me that a kid like Terry can have a disease like this at such a young age.”

Lee recently learned of Terry because of his own son Arnold’s struggle to live. Terry and Arnold attend the same after-school care program for disabled children and teens.

Arnold, who turns 13 later this month, was born hydrocephalic, a condition once known as “water on the brain.” He had an emergency operation immediately after birth to insert a shunt that drains fluid from the brain. He has had 23 more operations to adjust the shunt. Arnold also has autism and cerebral palsy.

Although Lee has made drawings for Arnold, SuperTerry is his very first piece illustrating a disease. He was shocked to learn that HD can affect children.

“He’s aware of what’s going on, but his body doesn’t do what it should be doing,” Lee, whose work includes background layout for the 1990s TV series Attack of the Killer Tomatoes and pieces for the San Diego Museum of Natural History, said of Terry. “That’s what’s especially heartbreaking for me. He’s a normal 15-year-old kid inside.”

Lee imagined the monster by thinking of the horrors of HD.

“He’s kind of like a blob,” Lee said. “He’s transparent and green. Slimy! I just wanted him to look real mean.

“I’ve always been pretty religious, but seeing all these kids really tests your faith,” Lee continued. “Kids like Terry and Arnold are the closest things on earth to an angel. Terry will never steal or cheat or rob or hurt anyone.”

Lee made the illustration based on photographs. On August 2 the two met in person for the first time at a fundraising event for the San Diego Chapter of the Huntington’s Disease Society of America (HDSA-San Diego). Lee presented Terry with the illustration.

“Terry was very appreciative of the picture,” his mother Angela told me. “He liked it a lot.”

Lee Ellingson (left) and Terry Leach

A feeding tube, operations, and looming death

SuperTerry HD treatments are needed now.

HD patients constantly struggle to maintain weight because they burn large amounts of calories and suffer from severely hampered swallowing. In 2010, in an end-of-life measure, the real Terry started taking meals and water through a feeding tube connected several times each day to a surgically produced hole in his abdomen. Before the operation, he weighed only 67 pounds. He now weighs 100, enough to help extend his life but still way below the average of 126 pounds for a 15-year-old male.

Terry’s body reacts to the hole as if it were an ulcer, causing him to produce large amounts of saliva that he wipes away with a towel constantly at hand. Doctors will inject botox into his salivary glands to diminish their output. He’s also gotten botox in his arms and legs to relieve pain.

Terry has undergone leg and foot operations to further relieve pain and tightness, correct deformities, and allow him, with assistance, to occasionally leave his wheelchair and walk. (For further background on Terry, please click here and here.)

Terry 

Because he can’t talk, Terry partially communicates through a language program on his iPad, which allows him to interact with people as the device’s speaker pronounces words and phrases that he selects. He takes regular classes at Madison High School, where he is starting tenth grade. Last fall he made the honor roll by carrying a grade-point average of at least 3.5. In middle school he received a number of other awards.

Terry loves computer games. During my visit to the Leach household, he played Club Penguin while I spoke to his mother for 90 minutes.

 “He’s always happy,” said Angela, a single parent who depends on Medi-Cal and other programs for financial assistance and, when she misses work because of Terry’s medical appointments and crises, the generosity of her employer, the San Diego Convention and Visitors Bureau. “He’s always wanting to give me a hug. And he’s so strong. He deals with everything and never quits fighting. He never complains, either. He’s always wanting to help. Everybody that knows Terry sees the light within him.”

However, Angela knows that, unless treatments become available very soon, Terry will die of HD. Recently a cousin of Terry’s with juvenile HD died at the age of 23. Other juvenile HD patients die in their teens or even childhood.

Angela Leach with the original drawing of SuperTerry (photo by Gene Veritas)

Raising awareness, saving the children

Knowing how little time remains for Terry, both Angela and Lee want to use SuperTerry to raise funds for HD research and increase awareness about HD and the difficult issues surrounding it.

Lee plans to expand SuperTerry into a comic strip and perhaps even a graphic novel about HD. Angela hopes to sell SuperTerry t-shirts in collaboration with HDSA.

“I don’t want any fame or glory,” Lee said. “I just want to help raise money. I want Terry to be the star.” As research progresses, science will also find ways to cure other diseases, too, he added. Such research could also benefit Arnold.

Above, San Diego Chargers football stars Philip Rivers (left rear) and Antonio Gates with Arnold Ellingson (left foreground) and Terry at HDSA-San Diego fundraiser in spring 2012. Below, friends Arnold and Terry enjoy Disneyland together.

Angela hopes that her and Lee’s efforts will help inform HD families about the option of genetic testing so that couples can avoid passing the disease onto their children through the use of preimplantation genetic diagnosis (PGD) or in the event of pregnancy – and depending on the couple’s personal and religious beliefs – early termination of the pregnancy. She wants SuperTerry to “save the children” from HD.

“I would never want another mother to go through what I did,” explained Angela, whose husband at the time (now an HD patient living in a nursing home in Indiana) did not tell her about the disease in his family until after Terry was born and the husband himself developed symptoms. HD families need to “get more proactive” about testing and family planning, she added.

“Terry’s life shows you what you face if you take a chance” by conceiving without all of the information, genetic counseling, and other resources available to HD families, she said.

“It would be best to be proactive to minimize that situation,” Angela continued. “It’s a lifelong situation. I’ve watched Terry grow up and deteriorate. There are so many challenges. We’re forever fighting.

“I don’t want his life to be in vain,” she concluded, recalling how an old friend’s son who had been in baby photos with Terry was now an imposing teenage football player. “I was happy for her, but it broke my heart. That could have been Terry. He could have been a football player. Or at least talk.”

Advocacy pays off: Huntington’s disease stem-cell research advances in California

Grass-roots advocacy for Huntington’s disease stem-cell research is paying off.

Using funds from the state of California secured with the help of advocates, leading HD stem-cell scientists are taking important steps towards developing potential ways to treat, reverse, and perhaps even cure HD.

These funds come from the California Institute for Regenerative Medicine (CIRM), the $3 billion initiative approved by the state’s voters in November 2004 to establish grants and loans for stem-cell research aimed at rapidly developing treatments for a host of diseases.

Leading stem-cell advocates had successfully worked to get the measure on the ballot as a state initiative after President George W. Bush had signed an order blocking the establishment of new human embryonic stem-cell lines, which scientists needed to expand research in the field. President Barack Obama later rescinded that order.

CIRM projects have spurred the creation of new embryonic stem-cell research, as well as other kinds of stem cells.

Millions in funding

While the CIRM oversight board has representatives concerned with Alzheimer’s disease and diabetes, among other conditions, it has no representative from the Huntington’s disease community.

Nevertheless, in 2007, as CIRM prepared to award its first research grants, California’s grass-roots HD activists began campaigning for the board to address Huntington’s stem-cell projects.

In October of that year, I arranged for Bill Johnston, the public relations director of the San Diego Chargers and the president of the San Diego Chapter of the Huntington’s Disease Society of America, to appeal to the oversight board during a public meeting in San Diego. As he spoke, Johnston held his wife Ramona, who has HD. This was the very first time that a member of the HD community had appeared before the board.

I also spearheaded the organization of the December 2007 CIRM “Spotlight on Huntington’s Disease,” held at the University of California, Los Angeles. The presentation included talks by two leading scientists, as well as a plea for HD research from activist Frances Saldaña and her daughter Margie Hayes, one of three siblings who developed juvenile HD and the mother of two at-risk children. (For more on these first meetings, click here.)

As mother Frances Saldaña (left) looks on, Margie Hayes tells about her struggle against HD at the CIRM Spotlight on Huntington's Disease, Los Angeles, December 12, 2007 (photo by Gene Veritas).

CIRM President Dr. Alan Trounson (left) with Alexa Shaffer and mother Sharon. Sharon has HD, and Alexa is at risk. They told their stories at a CIRM board meeting in San Diego on September 25, 2008 (photo by Gene Veritas).

Advocates throughout California joined hands in this cause, with other HD family members speaking before the oversight board at its regular public meetings in different parts of the state. (For the sake of brevity, I won’t list the names of the numerous dedicated individuals involved in these efforts.)

Together with the researchers’ meticulously prepared grant applications, this advocacy has generated solid results: to date, HD stem-cell research projects, based mainly at the University of California, Davis (UC Davis), and the University of California, Irvine (UCI), have received $7.9 million in CIRM funding.

Striving for an HD ‘Disease Team’

Tomorrow, January 24, Jan Nolta, Ph.D., the director of the UC Davis Institute for Regenerative Cures, will submit an application to CIRM for a $20 million project to fund an HD “Disease Team.” The team will aim to develop the very first human clinical trial for an HD stem-cell treatment, which would involve attacking the disease at its genetic roots and infusing the brain with an important growth factor known as BDNF.

Just last month, Dr. Nolta published a scientific article demonstrating promising results in pre-clinical experiments, which must precede human trials (click here to read more).

Dr. Nolta uses a well-known type of stem cells, called “mesenchymal stem cells.” A long-time expert on these cells, Dr. Nolta refers to them as “paramedics” because of the way they congregate around and repair damaged cells.

Dr. Nolta at the HD bench at the Institute for Regenerative Cures (photo by Gene Veritas)

Last May I spent a day interviewing Dr. Nolta and observing the work of the UC Davis institute, co-founded by the university and CIRM (click here to read more about my visit and Dr. Nolta’s work).

Once again, we will mobilize our California network of advocates, this time in support of the HD Disease Team application. We want to stress the urgency of finding treatments for this killer disease and the importance of HD research in advancing the stem-cell field.

New stem-cell lines

At UCI, HD stem-cell research has progressed rapidly under the leadership of Dr. Leslie Thompson, a professor in the UCI School of Medicine’s Departments of Psychiatry and Human Behavior, the interim director of the Center for Mitochondrial and Molecular Medicine and Genetics, and a holder of various other positions within the university.

With one CIRM grant of $900,000, awarded in 2008, Dr. Thompson and her researchers are creating new neuronal (brain) stem cells. They produce these cells by taking skin-cell samples from both HD-affected and non-HD people, “reprogramming” them to become stem cells, and then “differentiating” them into the neuronal stem cells.

From these new cells, they eventually hope to obtain medium spiny neurons, the kind of brain cell most affected by HD. The disease occurs because these cells malfunction, become damaged, and die. Using the neuronal stem cells, the research team can study HD at work in a live, real-time human setting.

This grant also funds research on human stem cells taken from embryos discarded by couples who underwent PGD (preimplantation genetic diagnosis) in order to have HD-free children. In this project, Dr. Thompson and her researchers have succeeded in establishing one new line of human embryonic stem cells, which will be used to study HD.

Announced in late 2010, a second CIRM grant of $3.8 million funds a UCI project that seeks to develop a stem-cell treatment for study in HD mice. The initial experiments in this project demonstrate that the mice’s symptoms improve after the introduction of mouse stem cells into their brains. The second stage is examining the effect of human stem cells on the mouse brains.

Later, Dr. Thompson hopes to apply for another HD Disease Team grant to develop ways to apply her research for potential stem-cell treatments in humans.

In future articles, I will explore in greater depth how Dr. Nolta’s and Dr. Thompson’s respective projects could lead to effective treatments.

The impact of our work

Interviewing Dr. Thompson in her office on January 20, I felt a deep sense of accomplishment.

In an instant, I felt as if time had fast-forwarded me from 2007, when she and I prepared intensely to organize the CIRM Spotlight on HD, to the present, when the results of the statewide advocacy efforts are blooming in the UCI labs.

I had advocated with and for Dr. Thompson, and now I was sitting across from her and hearing good news.

Dr. Thompson (left) with Frances Saldaña at the Huntington's Study Group meeting in San Diego, October 16, 2010 (photo by Gene Veritas)

In voting for the CIRM, and then advocating for specific HD projects, we had achieved a historic breakthrough for HD research.

In hearing Dr. Thompson discuss the establishment of a new stem-cell line from the PGD embryos, I felt how profoundly political our advocacy has been, and how it directly impacts the quest for treatments and a cure.

The moment was exhilarating.

Gene Veritas: Back when the big controversy was occurring, when Bush said, “No more new lines,” this is a --

Leslie Thompson: A new line.

GV: This is a new line that, thanks to the CIRM and the law in California, was supposed to occur.

LT: Thanks to the CIRM. Correct.

GV: So we’re seeing an actual impact of a political decision here to do something.

LT: Yes. All of it. All of [the stem-cell work]. Because we wouldn’t be able to do this work without CIRM funding.

We can all advocate for the cause

Advocacy is one of the biggest challenges for the HD movement. It demands long hours of preparation, the study of complex issues, networking, and efforts to gain access to public officials and other powerful individuals.

It also requires patience, dedication, and teamwork. We California advocates have recognized these requirements and tried our best to practice them.

On the stem-cell front, we have in our favor a great set of universities with top-flight scientists like Dr. Nolta and Dr. Thompson. Both are well-known in the HD community, and both dedicate time outside of work to supporting it. Dr. Thompson finds inspiration in HD families. A newcomer to HD research, Dr. Nolta took on this new field after coming into contact with the local HD medical specialist, Dr. Vicki Wheelock, and the community she serves.

Advocates and scientists have meshed well throughout the crusade for stem-cell treatments.

Finally, I believe our advocacy has proved effective because of the willingness of affected families to tell their stories in public – despite the pain or awkwardness it might cause – at CIRM meetings and to the doctors and physicians involved in HD research.

All of us in the HD community can become advocates. We need people to work on all levels – from meeting with government officials to writing letters. And we must always speak out.

You never know. Someone with the willingness and resources to help might just be listening. You can inspire that person to act.

(To learn more about California HD advocacy, please click here. To learn about national advocacy efforts, please click here.)

An angel fighting for the cure (Huntington’s disease and abortion – Part I)

Lying in a hospital birthing room, Christina Wright held her premature infant son Timothy John awhile in her arms and, after he died, handed his tiny body over for research that might help save her husband and thousands of others from Huntington’s disease.

On August 28, 2011, Timothy became an “HD angel,” yet another mourned but deeply loved victim of this killer brain disease. His brain was donated to a tissue bank at the University of British Columbia’s renowned research program on Huntington’s.

After the fetus tested positive for the abnormal gene that causes Huntington’s, Christina and her husband Michael prayed at their local church in Coral Springs, FL, and then decided to abort their child in the 22nd week of the pregnancy. Hoping all along that they might carry the baby to term, they had already given him a name.

For more than ten years, Michael has helped care for his 54-year-old mother Gail Suvino, now residing in a nursing home with late-stage HD. In October 2010 Michael himself tested positive for the disease. He is 34, and he worries constantly about when his own symptoms will start.

Christina and Michael Wright (family photo)

The ‘toughest decision’

Christina and Michael could not bear the thought of their son facing the threat of a life burdened with severe disabilities and ultimately cut short by years, if not decades.

“It was very hard for me,” Christina said with great emotion in a phone interview on December 8. “I didn’t know that he was going to be born alive. He was strong and a fighter and wanted to live, and that breaks our hearts.”

“He looked just like me when he was born,” said Michael, who had stood by Christina during the birth. “He had my big feet and chicken legs.”

“This was the toughest decision we ever had to make,” he continued. “I bring it up every day. A lot of people don’t know what this disease does to a family. It does massive damage to a family.”

A birth with a research goal

With medical assistance, a baby delivered at 22 weeks would have a 10 percent chance of survival, explained Christina, a pediatric nurse. Because this was an abortion, the medical team did not intervene to save Timothy. He died of heart and lung failure.

“I did not have a clinical abortion,” Christina said, noting that in a standard abortion the mother is put under anesthesia and the fetus terminated and removed in pieces with the help of forceps. Under those circumstances, the brain could not have been used for research.

“I went through the birth to be able to donate the brain,” Christina continued. “The doctors did insert pills into my cervix to induce my labor. I pushed him out. I delivered my son with the purpose of fighting this disease.

With great pain in her voice, Christina spoke of how she will miss her son.

“No one wants to hurt their child,” she said. “We loved him so much. We always will. Even if we have ten children, we’re always going to be missing one. He was our son and always will be. We have pictures of him. We have his ashes in an urn. He will live in our hearts forever.

“I feel like he’s fighting in a different place,” she added. “He’s my husband’s angel. My son can help save my husband. He’s a warrior. I couldn’t be more proud as a mom, to know that my son helped find a cure to beat this. Some moms want their children to be a doctor or a lawyer. Mine might help find the cure for a disease that destroys families.”

Painful memories of another test

When I read Christina’s Facebook posting about Timothy on August 29, I felt terrible. I decided immediately that I would soon write an article for this blog about their plight. This is the first of two articles about HD and abortion.

Never an easy decision, abortion is even tougher for people of faith like the Wrights and a pediatric nurse like Christina. The disabling, ultimately deadly nature of HD further complicates that decision.

Interviewing the Wrights was one of the most difficult moments in my 13-plus years as an HD activist.

Listening to them sent my mind reeling back to the winter of 1999-2000, when my wife and I tested our own baby for HD in the womb six months after I had tested positive for HD. As I told the Wrights, their experience closely resembled ours – except for the all-important fact that our daughter tested negative.

As I pictured Christina holding Timothy, I imagined what it would have been like if our daughter had died in her mother’s arms immediately after birth.

I can’t find the words to describe the pain I felt. I shared our family’s story with Christina and Michael. I told them that I supported their decision and thanked them for donating Timothy’s brain for such a worthy cause. “I appreciate that,” Christina said.

In recounting the interview to my wife, I explained how the Wrights had oscillated between continuing and terminating the pregnancy. I then recalled our own situation. “Nobody knows for sure until they’re actually faced with the decision,” my wife said. I agreed.

An HD-free child

I am immensely relieved that our “miracle baby” is HD-free.

On several evenings this past week she and I happened to watch a recording of The Heart of Christmas, a new feature film based on the story of Dax Locke, a toddler whose battle against a rare form of leukemia mobilized the community to support his family and celebrate Christmas early so that he could enjoy it one more time before he died in 2009. Thinking of the Wrights, I felt so privileged to share these moments with her.

Last Saturday morning, after we accompanied her to a testing center for a private school entrance exam, I reflected on her progress in life and her immense potential.

The most powerful drive in life – more than the sex drive or anything else – is the need to nurture and protect a child. No calamity wounds a family more than the death of a child.

An imperfect situation

The Wrights’ story reveals the tragedy of HD, the wrenching decisions it forces upon families, and the imperfect conditions under which they must make and carry out those decisions.

After meeting through Match.com and dating awhile, Christina and Michael married on St. Patrick’s Day of this year. Michael, a beverage merchandiser who had to quit college in part to help care for his mother, had revealed to Christina that he had tested positive for HD but so far had not symptoms. Christina witnessed the tough reality of HD by meeting Gail.

“A lot of people would run the other way,” Michael said. “She really loves me.”

Christina, now 38, had been told by doctors that she couldn’t get pregnant because of an irregular menstrual cycle since the age of 14 and, later, ten years of failed attempts to conceive in a prior relationship. She and Michael didn’t use contraceptives.

The pregnancy caught the Wrights completely by surprise. Thus they hadn’t had the opportunity to seek genetic counseling, nor could they resort to PGD (preimplantation genetic diagnosis), which would have allowed them to choose embryos without HD for implantation into her uterus.

Pondering the results

An amniocentesis was done on the baby at sixteen and a half weeks, the earliest possible moment. But the results of the HD test took three more weeks to arrive.

Michael’s abnormal gene has 42 CAG repeats, whereas a normal huntingtin gene has only ten to 29. Those extra repeats cause the disease. Timothy had 40 repeats. Statistically speaking, Michael, who is 34, will probably develop symptoms sometime in his forties or fifties. Someone with 40 repeats might develop them a bit later, although, according to Michael, Gail’s symptoms started around the age of 36 or 37, and she has only 36 repeats.

Although they are finding more clues, scientists still don’t know exactly how and when the disease starts. Anybody with 40 repeats or more will definitely develop symptoms at some point.

The Wrights had learned that the child of a gene-positive man has a much greater chance of developing juvenile Huntington’s disease, which can start as early as the toddler years. But that’s because the father can often pass on more repeats, whereas a mother usually passes on her number. In this case, Timothy actually had fewer repeats.

“I almost don’t want to know that, if that’s the case,” Christina told me after I explained my understanding of that connection between repeats and juvenile HD. “We very much wanted our baby. We feel that we gave him back to God, especially because we’re Catholic.”

‘We were bonding’

The process of learning about their child’s fate was awkward. The Wrights received the results of Timothy’s HD test from an on-call obstetrician, rather than from their regular doctor, who was out of town. No social workers or geneticists were on hand to help clarify the information, and it was the first time the obstetrician had ever advised a patient on an amniocentesis involving HD.

The Wrights faced additional time pressure because in Florida a fetus at 24 weeks is considered viable, Christina explained. Had Timothy reached that age, the couple would have had to travel to another state for an abortion.

“We were both crying and both devastated,” she said of the impact the news of Timothy’s gene-positive result. “It was very difficult for us. I didn’t think God would give us more than we could handle, and so I wanted to have our son.

“It wasn’t just a pregnancy at that point. It was our son. We saw his picture on the ultrasound. I was gaining weight. I could feel him move. We were bonding with him. We started picking names. It was just very hard.”

Medical advice

But the obstetrician told her that she “was being selfish and not considering the life of the child” if she went through with the pregnancy, she said.

Other doctors that the Wrights knew at the University of Florida in Gainesville – where Michael travels regularly to participate in an HD research study – couldn’t tell the couple when the symptoms would occur and how bad they might be.

“We wanted to consult with them,” Christina said, explaining that they spoke with these physicians via cell phone. “Their opinion meant more than an obstetrician’s. They agreed that it would be better not to have the child.”

She added that these doctors did not mention the relationship between the CAG repeats and the age of onset.

All of the doctors led the Wrights to conclude that they would have a “sick baby,” Christina said.

Timothy’s purpose

Sitting in a pew at their church, the Wrights prayed and cried for more than an hour. The parish priest appeared and asked what was wrong, and, without mentioning HD or a genetic test, the couple explained that they had gotten “bad news” at the doctor’s office and would have to deliver their child prematurely.

“He came into our room (at the hospital) and said a prayer and held our son and put some holy water on him and christened (baptized) him,” Christina said, adding that Timothy was probably dead at that point. “It was very touching for us.”

Timothy lived for about 90 minutes. The medical personnel needed to get his brain on dry ice in 30 or so minutes, and they shipped it to the University of British Columbia’s Huntington Disease BioBank. There scientists study tissue samples to understand “the way DNA changes associated with Huntington’s disease affect the actual physical characteristics and proteins of the brain and tissues.”

“That was one thing we were adamant about,” Christina said. “If we were going to lose our son, we wanted something to come from this.

“We’re not ashamed of what we did. We just want to help find a cure.”

The couple wants to share their story to raise awareness about Huntington’s and support the quest for a cure not just of HD, but other devastating neurological conditions such as Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s, Michael added.

Timothy is now part of that quest.

“We felt that was his purpose,” Christina said.

Opinions on testing

The Wrights still want a child and are now saving to afford PGD, which can cost upwards of $10,000 and even twice that amount, depending on the circumstances. Their insurance doesn’t cover it.

They believe that PGD is “the responsible thing to do,” Christina said. She strongly disagrees with families that, when pregnant, choose not to test for HD via amniocentesis.

“With all that science has to offer, it’s (also) the responsible thing to do,” she said.

“Just think about the long-term effects if they don’t do the right thing,” Michael said. In using the latest scientific techniques, he and Christina aren’t seeking the “perfect baby, but a healthy baby,” he added. “You owe it to your family” to assure healthy genes, he said.

“God gives us these vessels, these instruments, this technology to guide us and help us along, especially in the medical field,” Michael said. “Don’t go through it blind-folded.”

More HD families need to “come out of the closet,” Michael continued. HD is “not something to be ashamed of. People look at Mom and think it’s a stroke. It hurts."

Learning from the Wrights’ example

In concluding the interview, I told Michael that he and I were “brothers” in the fight to stay healthy and support the cause for the cure. I told Christina that she was my “sister” in the cause.

I’ve been meditating on Timothy and his parents. I pray that others don’t have to face their terrible predicament, although many surely will until the medical community achieves greater awareness of the genetics of HD.

Ultimately, effective treatments or a cure would liberate people from this predicament.

We can learn much from Timothy John Wright. His parents gave us his brain for research – to serve the greater, common good. Understanding the bigger picture, Christina and Michael committed the ultimate act of human solidarity.

We in the HD community also need to see the greater good. Whenever possible, we need to participate in research. To do so, we must exit the terrible “HD closet.” I myself remained pseudonymous, in the closet until 2010, and in February of this year I came out by delivering the keynote speech to HD specialists from around the world gathered at a key conference in Palm Springs.

As Michael pointed out, we need to rise above the difficult feelings surrounding HD and gain heart from the fact that our participation in the quest for treatments and a cure is helping to create the dawn of a new era. Along with the scientists, we are taking a quantum leap in the study of the brain. We are the pioneers pointing the way to better brain health. We are doing something profoundly good and important.

From suffering to progress for all

In the past, many people – including my own family – have viewed HD as a matter of suffering. But today, with scientific progress, HD is about the human quest for a longer and more fulfilling life for all.

In the Bible, Abraham was willing to sacrifice his own son in a sign of complete commitment and love. Our collective human sorrow is captured In Michelangelo’s Pietà, with Mary holding the body of her son Jesus after his crucifixion.

Michelangelo's Pietà, in St. Peter's Basilica in Rome


The mini-urn containing Timothy's ashes (family photo)

We in the HD community are all Timothy John Wrights in our mothers’ arms.

Indeed, we in the HD community endure great suffering. “You think, ‘God can’t be that cruel,’” Michael said.

But, like the Wrights, none of us should feel ashamed. This community has lots of love – and it shows it just as the Wrights have done.

(The second part of this series will tell the story of Katelyn Sandbulte, a 20-year-old juvenile Huntington’s disease patient in the first trimester of pregnancy.... At this special time of year, please remember to donate to the Huntington’s Disease Society of America.)

Huntington’s disease in the news and entertainment media – Part I: Stigma and genetic testing

Despite its status as an orphan disease unknown to many, Huntington’s disease occasionally comes into focus in the mainstream news media and the entertainment industry.

HD’s biggest exposure came March 18, 2007, when the Sunday edition of The New York Times featured a long page-one story on 23-year-old Katie Moser, who had tested positive for this devastating, deadly brain disorder and was confronting her fate.

On September 15, 2011, HD entered the discussion again in a Dear Prudence column titled “Deadly Family Secret.” Emily Yoffe, the author of the advice column for the online newsmagazine Slate, responded to a young mother who had just learned that her newborn baby boy was at risk for HD. (Click here to read more.)

The writer, who signed her letter to Prudence “So Devastated,” recounted how, a week after the birth, she learned that her mother-in-law had HD. Thus the young mother’s untested husband has a 50-50 chance of inheriting the disease, and, if he indeed has the abnormal gene, the baby would face the same risk.

That letter once again highlighted how stigma, denial, and ignorance plague the HD community (click here to read more).

Some sound advice

Yoffe provided some excellent commentary and advice, though, as noted below, I found other aspects quite frustrating.

As an HD-positive person, support group member, and 2011 Person of the Year of the Huntington’s Disease Society of America (HDSA), I completely agree with Yoffe that the mother-in-law should have informed her son about his at-risk status, especially given the fact that her own mother had died of HD.

The young mother and her husband are now racing to educate themselves about the disease and its consequences – an anxiety-ridden situation they could have avoided, or at least planned for, had his mother revealed the family history of HD in a timely manner. They could have arranged for PGD, or preimplantation genetic diagnosis, to assure that their baby would be born without HD.

From my own extended family’s experience with HD and my observation of many others in my 13 years as an HD advocate, I believe that full disclosure is always the best policy.

Yoffe recommended that the couple tap into the resources provided by HDSA and its network of support groups and Centers of Excellence for Family Services and Research. She also advised that they consult a genetic counselor to discuss genetic testing for the husband, adding that the wife should inform an at-risk, pregnant cousin about her aunt’s diagnosis. With that knowledge, the cousin can test the fetus for HD.

A deliberate decision

Also, I was deeply relieved to read Yoffe’s advice to the young father that “there is no rush about making that choice” about his own genetic testing.

My own experience with testing supports this approach.

After learning of my mother’s diagnosis the day after Christmas 1995, I wanted to get tested immediately. But after speaking with my mother’s geneticist and becoming involved in the HDSA-San Diego support group, I learned that I should not rush into testing. Testing presented enormous risks involving job security, insurability, and my psychological health. Ultimately, I waited until 1999, when my wife became pregnant, to learn my fate. In 2000 our daughter tested negative for HD in the womb.

The omission of research

However, I disagree with other aspects of Yoffe’s response.

She omitted, or perhaps didn’t know, that a man often passes on a worse form of HD, sometimes causing a gene-positive child to develop juvenile Huntington’s disease. Thus the mother’s failure to inform “So Devastated” and her husband presents potentially even more devastating implications for their new family.

While Yoffe properly described HD as a “particularly cruel” condition, she failed to mention the huge strides made in research to combat the disease. That research provides immense hope for people such as “So Devastated” and her extended family (click here to read more).

A skewed view of testing

As a result of this omission, Yoffe presented a skewed view of genetic testing.

In referencing HDSA guidelines, she wrote that “there is almost never a reason to test a young person for the disease, which tends to strike in middle age.”

Despite the highly appropriate caution about not rushing into testing, genetic testing does play an increasingly important part in the solution to Huntington’s disease. Simply put, scientists, physicians, and drug companies need at-risk, gene-positive, and affected HD people to participate in research studies and clinical trials in order to understand the disease more fully and to test the safety and efficacy of potential drugs. (Click here to read more.)

Testing for HD directly benefits the effort to find treatments to make HD manageable like diabetes or perhaps even to bring about a cure.

By getting tested, at-risk people provide hope – for themselves and for the tens of thousands of people around the world affected by HD.

Treatments ‘on the horizon’

Although many people in the HD community, as well as journalists, still have not perceived this message, it has now existed in the public domain for a number of years.

A prominent example came in September 2005, when Dr. Martha Nance, the director of the HDSA Center of Excellence at the Hennepin County Medical Center in Minneapolis, responded to my own deep fears about HD by demonstrating in a Washington Post article that “treatments for neurodegeneration [brain diseases] are on the horizon.”

Similarly, as I have illustrated with my own experience, at-risk and gene-positive HD people have given testimony regarding the importance of research studies and clinical trials.

Testing no longer just a personal matter

Yoffe’s Dear Prudence column on HD effectively personalized how a “deadly family secret” can devastate successive generations. It reminds us of the urgent need to end the stigma associated with HD (and, by extension, with other neurological diseases).

Rightly so, Yoffe points out the great importance of sharing the truth about a genetic test with other family members and taking advantage of the information and services provided by HDSA.

However, I believe that HD and genetic testing are no longer just personal matters to be interpreted and confronted alone. They involve and impact the entire HD community – including the mutually beneficial, inextricable ties between the researchers and the patients (and potential patients like me and that letter-writer’s husband and son).

To defeat HD, we can never forget the big picture of our quest.

(In Part II, I will reflect on a recent episode about HD and suicide on the TV show Private Practice.)