Staying when the Chargers leave: a leading Huntington’s disease advocate sets a gutsy, loving example

After the San Diego Chargers’ recently announced move to Los Angeles, team public relations director and Huntington’s disease advocate Bill Johnston made a gutsy, loving decision: after 38 years with the Chargers, he will quit so that his HD-afflicted wife Ramona can stay at the highly-regarded San Diego nursing home where’s she spent the last decade.

Bill made his decision after thoroughly researching nursing homes in Orange County, which is much closer to the Chargers’ new Los Angeles headquarters than San Diego County. He visited seven facilities, paying special attention to their ability to conscientiously care for someone with HD. As the HD community is all too painfully aware, such facilities often provide poor care.

Bill did not find what he wanted. He opted for Ramona to remain at Edgemoor Hospital in Santee, located next to San Diego. A public nursing home, Edgemoor has cared for dozens of Huntington’s patients over the past several decades.

“Everybody would make the same decision I am making if they were in my shoes,” Bill told the San Diego Union-Tribune. “It’s just the situation I find myself in.”

Bill awakes at 4:55 a.m. daily and visits Ramona at Edgemoor before heading to work. She was diagnosed with HD in 1999 but had showed symptoms earlier. She is now in the late stages of the disease, confined to a wheelchair and unable to care for herself. The native San Diego couple met in high school and married in 1983.

“She can’t talk anymore, but she’ll make some sounds,” Bill told the Union-Tribune. “Sometimes, I think she’s trying to say my name. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.”

The Johnston team at the 2014 Rock-n-Roll Marathon raising funds and awareness for the Huntington's Disease Society of America. Bill has his arm around Ramona, in wheelchair. Daughter Hayley stands directly behind Bill (photo by Andrew McClanahan/PhotoRun.net)

‘I’ll always do what I can’

By interrupting his career and staying in San Diego, Bill is rolling with one of the many punches thrown by HD. His son Jared, 31, tested negative for HD. Daughter Hayley, 28, remains untested; she has a 50-50 chance of having inherited the HD genetic defect from Ramona.

Other HD families have adapted their lives dramatically to meet similar challenges. In my family, my mother died of HD, and I carry the gene. Since my mother’s diagnosis in 1995, HD has frequently dominated my family’s life. Fortunately, our daughter tested negative and is today a healthy teenager.

Bill’s situation reminded me of my own. In 2007, in a wrenching, career-changing decision, I turned down a major job offer in Miami to remain in California, a biotech state with crucial public support for stem cell research. California also has HD-involved companies such as Ionis Pharmaceuticals, Inc., which is currently running a historic Phase I clinical trial of a gene-silencing drug. Most important, remaining in California allowed my wife to keep her relatively well-paying teaching job and pension, our financial lifeline if I become disabled.

I had also bonded with Bill and many other members of the San Diego Chapter of the Huntington’s Disease Society of America (HDSA-San Diego). Through chapter events, Bill and his family have raised nearly $3 million for HDSA. Their leadership and fortitude have inspired people in the local HD community and beyond.

In response to my e-mail query about his plans for future advocacy, Bill wrote: “I’ll always do what I can.”

“Bill has been a ‘tour de force’ in advocating for the HD community in San Diego and nationally,” HDSA-San Diego president Beth Hoffman, Ph.D., wrote in an e-mail. “Bill has tremendous energy and passion, and brings wonderful and new ideas to our fundraising efforts. He’s always been there to drive the chapter’s success. We are thrilled that Bill will remain in San Diego and look forward to expanding our efforts towards the HDSA mission with him.”

“I am not surprised by Bill's decision to stay,” long-time HDSA-San Diego board member Misty Daniel wrote. “His dedication to Ramona and our HD community has never faltered over the years. Bill's decision to stay reaffirms what most HD families know: that family truly is everything.”

Ramona with Chargers star and HDSA supporter Antonio Gates at the 2007 Celebration of Hope Gala (photo by Gene Veritas)

Change means new opportunities

After 56 seasons in San Diego, the Chargers’ departure angered local football fans and civic leaders. “The Los Angeles Judases have betrayed us for 30 pieces of silver,” wrote Union-Tribune sports columnist Nick Canepa, who is also a member of HDSA-San Diego’s advisory board, in reference to the move

The team’s’ exit has also posed a huge challenge for HDSA. Bill’s involvement since 1999 added the team’s high-profile pro-football brand to most major fundraising events, including the chapter's annual gala. For years, HDSA-San Diego board meetings took place at Chargers’ headquarters, and team owner Dean Spanos allowed use of that facility for fundraisers. In 2003, Spanos and his wife Susie received HDSA’s Harold Leventhal Community Service Award at a dinner in New York City.

However, Bill’s decision to remain has helped offset the feelings of desertion resulting from the Chargers’ move. His connections, creativity, and dedication will help the chapter strike out in new directions. As Bill has always made clear, he’s also in this fight for Hayley – and for all families affected by HD.

Bill and Hayley Johnston exchange ideas at an HDSA-San Diego event in May 2016 (photo by Gene Veritas).

Over the years, other chapter members and even Bill himself recognized the danger of relying too heavily on the Chargers. As a result, the chapter has strived to diversify its sponsor and donor base.

The Chargers’ exodus might also provide unforeseen benefits such as distancing HDSA-San Diego from the uncomfortable connection to a sport now linked to brain diseases similar to HD.

“The Chargers organization has been stellar in its support,” Dr. Hoffman wrote, noting the chapter’s gratitude for the players’ “enthusiastic participation” at fundraisers. “We will miss our Chargers.

“That said, the HDSA-San Diego board and all of our wonderful volunteers are hard at work attracting sponsors and making our events even more exciting. Whenever there are changes, there are new opportunities. Our job is to find and leverage these opportunities to their maximum potential.”

Dreams for a better future: an opportunity we Huntington’s disease people and our families are denied

Because of its devastating medical and social impact, Huntington’s disease often forces affected individuals and their families to abandon their dreams.

After learning of my mother’s diagnosis for HD in 1995 and then testing positive for the deadly gene in 1999, I became aware of how the disease could damage family finances.

HD families not only lose the income of the affected individual; they also bear the costs of caring for that person, including nursing home fees. Sometimes the caregiver quits his or her own job in order to stay at home with the patient. Sometimes an exhausted caregiver even dies before the HD person.

Fearing such consequences, my wife Regina and I abandoned the idea of buying a retirement home in her native country of Brazil, in order to save more money to pay for my future care.

Our daughter tested negative for HD in the womb and is today a healthy 16-year-old. Unwilling to repeat the long and psychologically traumatic process of prenatal genetic testing, we decided to have no more children. That decision was especially painful for Regina.

Delving into the cause for a cure to save my deteriorating mother, I was compelled to add a new, fundamentally different dimension to my academic career: in addition to Brazilian history, I now also study the history of science, technology, and medicine. In this blog I have tracked the development of HD research, chronicled the HD cause as a social movement, and documented the new and harrowing human experience of living in the gray zone between a genetic test result and disease onset.

This new dimension has brought many rewards, but I often fantasize about what my career would be like if it weren’t for HD.

A diversion and a trigger

Brazil, my research passion, became simultaneously a diversion from and a potential trigger of HD onset. I eagerly looked forward to the escape to the wondrous culture of Brazil during my summer research trips.

However, with both HD and my intellectual legacy on my mind, each spring I prepared feverishly for those trips, packing into my schedule as many research tasks as possible – including meetings with Brazilian Huntington’s advocates. On the plane south, I worried about whether I was doing the best thing for my health. Relaxation and exercise in San Diego seemed more beneficial than living in hotels and eating restaurant food while exposing myself to the pollution and winter weather in the São Paulo megalopolis, where I did a lot of my work.

Facing HD, I couldn’t help but wonder if each trip might be my last.

Going international

As I became more deeply involved in HD advocacy and this blog over the past ten years, I lost some passion for Brazil research.

My mother’s death in 2006 figured heavily in that equation. As I watched her succumb to HD, I knew I would be the next to be stricken by the inevitable symptoms.

Research on Brazil sometimes seemed irrelevant. However, I kept at it, continuing a string of annual research visits stretching from 1986 to 2010, and again in 2013, 2015, and 2016. Today I consider myself bi-cultural, and my network of contacts in Brazil has made my HD advocacy international.

A new perspective

Lately, I’ve entered yet another stage of my journey with HD.

This year marked the tenth anniversary of my mother’s death. With time, memories of her struggle have become less frightening.

At the same time, something more important has occurred: at 56, the age at which my mother had involuntary movements and was losing her cognitive abilities, I have yet to develop any of the classic, visible signs of HD.

Scientists are getting closer to explaining the reasons for different age of onset in people like my mother and me who have the same degree of genetic defect (click here to read more). Unlike my mother, I’ve had the advantage of knowing that I carry the gene. So I have cared for my health more conscientiously.

After testing positive at age 39, I was convinced that I would by now have symptoms that would prevent me from working and traveling to Brazil.

I have been extremely lucky. As a result, my perspective has changed. I feel more optimistic about life because of the wonderful blessing of health that I currently enjoy.

Also, while in 1995 there was a dearth of potential HD remedies, today researchers run clinical trials in the quest for remedies to alleviate HD and perhaps even make it a manageable disease, thus allowing people to lead normal lives.

Having gotten this far, and looking back on two decades of advocacy, I am also somewhat more at peace with the fact that HD will inevitably strike me.

I know I am fighting the good fight. Ultimately, I cannot control my fate.

Taking a break from the cause

I took a break this summer from the HD cause. I devoted much of it to working on a long-gestating book project on former revolutionaries in power in Brazil, including Dilma Rousseff, the president of Brazil impeached in March and removed from office on August 31 by a vote of the Brazilian Senate. To grasp this important moment in Brazilian history, I have immersed myself in the events, including watching live video.

I had started the research on this project shortly after learning of my mother’s diagnosis. I had never imagined that at 56 I would still be able to write.

Focusing fully on Brazil again this summer, I felt in my element.

I did feel guilty this summer about not responding immediately to some requests for help from members of HD families.

However, I also recalled how many HD people give up on their dreams. I thought specifically of one asymptomatic gene carrier who decided to put advocacy aside and dedicate himself fully to a promising career.

“I have a right to self-fulfillment, too,” I told my psychotherapist. “I have given up so much because of HD. I really want to finish my book on Brazil.”

All HD-affected individuals and their families have the right to their own dreams!

That’s what we in the HD community are fighting to restore.

A stark reminder of HD

The gravity of our struggle hit home again on September 13, when Laura Rivard, Ph.D., invited me to attend a screening of the HBO documentary The Lion’s Mouth Opens in her course Ethical Issues in Genetics at the University of San Diego. (In a future article, I will explore HD and bioethics in the context of Dr. Rivard’s course.)

The film portrays filmmaker-actress Marianna Palka’s decision to test for HD. Before class, Dr. Rivard’s students also watched a video of me, produced by one of her former students, in which I discuss my own experiences with genetic testing (click here to watch the video).

The scenes with HD people moving uncontrollably starkly reminded me of my mother – and once again of my own terrible burden as a gene carrier.

Our biggest dream: an effective treatment

After we watched Marianna learn from a geneticist that she carries the HD gene, I answered students’ questions.

One asked: “Do days ever go by when you totally forget about your diagnosis, or is it always in the back of your mind?”

“It’s almost always in the back of my mind,” I responded.

However, I added: “I haven’t blogged since May. This is one of the longest periods I’ve gone without blogging.”

I explained that my Brazil book had priority over the summer.

“I’ve been able to put Huntington’s disease aside for the first time in many years,” I said. “It’s really nice to wake up some days and think about Brazil instead of Huntington’s disease.”

After leaving Dr. Rivard’s class, I remembered that the battle for treatments continues. It’s a battle that we need to win.

Like others affected by HD, I don’t want to become a financial and caregiving burden for my family. And like others, I want to experience the joys of family milestones, such as seeing my daughter graduate from college and start adult life without the worry of an incapacitated father.

An effective treatment will make that possible. Right now, that is our biggest dream.

Big decisions while facing the threat of Huntington’s disease

At every turn of life, we all make big decisions such as choosing a career, a mate, a home, and the number of children to conceive.

Living with the knowledge of a positive test for a devastating condition such as Huntington’s disease radically complicates such decisions. Coupled with the deep stigma associated with HD, the fear of the onset of symptoms magnifies the stress and doubt that come with such turning points.

As I have frequently revealed in my writings and in speeches about HD, I have faced life-changing decisions about a feeding tube for my HD-stricken mother, my genetic test, and the test of our daughter while still in the womb. (Thankfully, she tested negative!)

Planning for the inevitable symptoms of this currently untreatable disease has also profoundly altered my career, leading me into a new field far different from my original focus on Brazilian history: the history of science, technology, and medicine.

With my definitive exit from the “HD closet” last fall, I have begun to integrate this new intellectual passion into my professional life.

Professional excitement

Lately, however, I’ve relived the intensity of how the threat of HD affected my professional decisions.

With the surprise resignation of Pope Benedict XVI on February 11 and the emergence of several potential successors from among Latin America’s cardinals, my expertise on the Roman Catholic Church’s actions in the region and its relations with the region’s dictatorships – topics usually of no interest to the media and the general public – suddenly were in demand.

The election of Pope Francis I created great excitement: his initial attitudes and actions indicated that he might very well attempt to clean up the corruption and abuses that have plagued the institution.

At the same time, it rapidly became apparent that the new pope had had his own complex and (to some) controversial relationship with the Argentine dictatorship, which carried out a “dirty war” against Argentines from 1976-1983.

In the period before and after the election of Pope Francis I, I gave eleven interviews and answered a number of other queries from newsmagazines and radio and TV outlets.

My personal excitement culminated with the publication on March 17 of an op-ed article, outlining the potential paths of the Church under Francis I, in one of Brazil’s most prestigious newspapers, the Folha de S. Paulo, followed  by a quotation from me about the Argentine branch of the Church in a front-page story in The New York Times.

As I told a number of friends, never before and probably never again will my scholarly work on the Catholic Church command so much attention in the United States.

Throughout all this, I began to relive the past thrills and satisfaction of researching the Church, publishing books on the topic, and discussing my work in the Brazilian media.

My wife seemed especially happy to see me enjoying, for the first time in a very long while, recognition for my original career path. For her, it was a relief from that dogged, sometimes seemingly one-dimensional aspect of my life involving the fight against HD.

Second-guessing the past, but welcoming the future

As a result, I began second-guessing my decision in 2007 to turn down a job to help run a prestigious Latin American studies center in Florida in order to remain in biotech-rich San Diego to focus on the fight against HD. Staying put also helped safeguard my family’s financial future by allowing my wife to keep her good job and better-than-average retirement plan – absolutely essential if HD were to leave me disabled.

I thought of the HD people I had recently read about who had roughly the same degree of genetic mutation as I did and managed to avoid symptoms until their sixties and even continued to work after onset.

However, in the process of second-guessing, I recalled how I made that decision when the memories of my mother’s demise just a year and a half before still haunted me.

In hindsight, it’s easy to argue that I should have taken the other job and not worried so much about HD.

However, hindsight also reminds me of how HD completely destroyed my mother’s ability to work, to communicate, and to care for herself.

My wife and I made our big decision with the best information available to us at that moment.

I quickly reminded myself that rather than reliving the past, I must look to the future, value the intellectual flexibility of my university, and fulfill the plans I have mapped out for myself. I will be seeking connections with my university’s neuroscience program and social outreach project in order to promote brain health as a national priority.

Indeed, my dean has fully supported me after my exit from the HD closet. I felt especially reaffirmed with the publication of a feature article about my journey with HD on the university’s website.

The decision to pursue the history of science, technology, and medicine has exposed me to new vistas of the human story. HD is a challenge – but also a gift that has led to profound intellectual and personal growth.

The real successes and challenges

I savored my public moment as a Latin America scholar.

However, it stood in sharp contrast to the intensity and immensity of the challenge to avoid HD symptoms and contribute to the defeat of the disease.

While friends and colleagues were impressed with the recognition of my expertise, I quietly pondered the truly significant accomplishment for me during the week of Francis I’s election: the successful arrangement of a meeting between Paulo Vannuchi, Brazil’s former Minister of Human Rights, and Taíse Cadore, the president of the Associação Brasil Huntington. They discussed the crucial need to involve Brazil’s Ministry of Health in the fight against HD in Brazil, which will host the 2013 World Congress on Huntington’s Disease from September 15-18.

Ultimately, scientists’ work will go for naught unless events such as the World Congress can draw more people into the HD cause and involve them in the all-crucial research studies and clinical trials.

Participating in a study

On March 13, as I monitored the Internet for news of the papal conclave, I spoke to a researcher at the Huntington’s Disease Society of America Center for Excellence at Iowa Hospitals and Clinics, one of the sites for a key study known as PREDICT-HD, an observational study of the earliest signs of HD that needs asymptomatic, gene-positive volunteers.

PREDICT-HD will help establish ways to measure the efficacy of potential treatments.

Participating in PREDICT-HD represents another big decision for my family and me. The study requires the presence of a spouse or partner, who must answer a questionnaire about the gene-positive individual. All three of us must spend two days traveling and at least two days in Iowa.

The PREDICT-HD also involves a voluntary spinal tap so that cerebral spinal fluid from gene-positive people can be studied for the effects of HD and ways to measure the efficacy of potential treatments.

Spinal taps are routine but, like any procedure, involve risks such as a debilitating headache that could require emergency room treatment. In my case, it means that I will probably notify my health insurance plan for the very first time of my gene-positive status. I want to make sure I can safely undergo the tap, and I want to have my plan doctors on standby in the event of complications.

In and of itself, informing my health plan about HD represents yet another significant shift in my medical, psychological, and emotional approach to the disease.

Channeling the positive energy

As the HD researcher and I finished our discussion about PREDICT-HD, I saw the announcement of breaking news about white smoke from the Sistine Chapel: a new pope had been chosen.

Minutes later, my daughter and I watched as Francis I appeared on the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome and humbly prayed the Our Father and Hail Mary with the crowd gathered below – the same prayers she and I say together each night, alternating in English and Portuguese, before she goes to sleep.

I felt a new beginning for the Church.

In the days since then, I have frequently asked myself how I can channel the deep fulfillment and positive energy from my study of this troubled but nevertheless key institution into the effort to relieve the suffering caused by Huntington’s and so many other devastating diseases.

As I wrote in my op-ed piece on the pope, Francis I “seems to be saying that believers, and the rest of the world, must rediscover the fundamentals of human existence.”

In his inauguration homily on March 19, Francis I stated that “authentic power is service.” As pope he must protect “the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick and those in prison.”

For me, this means protecting my family from the consequences of HD and striving to do my small part to help others.