As hopes build about the first effective therapy, a Huntington’s disease family reunites

 

After 17 years of estrangement because of disagreements over family caregiving, in July I visited my hometown in Lake County, Ohio, to reconnect with my younger sister Donna. She began having Huntington’s disease symptoms in 2020.

 

In early 2023, Donna told me, via Facebook, that she had tested positive for HD but did not mention whether she had symptoms. I did not respond at that time because of unforeseen circumstances unrelated to HD that led me to step back from HD advocacy, including this blog.

 

In March of this year, I finally responded to my sister, my only sibling. We then spoke on the phone. Donna explained that she had HD symptoms. Despite her HD, we had an understandable conversation. She also revealed that one of her three sons, 37-year-old Greg, had also tested positive for the HD gene.

 

At the end of this emotional phone call, we expressed our love for each other and our respective families. I felt an enormous relief at having reconnected with my sister. Since then, we have texted each other regularly.

 

As an advocate, brother, and gene carrier who has luckily hit 65 without apparent symptoms, I felt duty-bound to check up on my younger sister. She is 63. Our mother Carol died of HD at age 68 in 2006.

 

On July 15 Donna, her husband Barry, my nephew Greg, my wife Regina, and I had a three-hour dinner at a restaurant in Painesville. Though it was, potentially, a very awkward reunion, we reconnected in a most cordial manner.

 

We were family, and we knew we had to reunite to offer mutual support and understanding in the fight against HD. I thanked Donna, Barry, and Greg for forming a team in the annual Huntington’s Disease Society of America Hope Walk (HDSA) fundraiser.

 

I have their permission to write this article.

 

Left to right, Gene Veritas (aka Kenneth P. Serbin), Donna, Barry, Greg, and Regina. Barry is wearing an HDSA Team Hope t-shirt (personal photo).

 

A family reunion – and wonderful news!

 

We all caught up on one another’s lives.

 

I squeezed Donna’s hand firmly several times and looked into her eyes. Because of HD, she had to retire from her job, and recently she stopped driving.

 

Barry, always the dedicated husband and now a caregiver, detailed the adaptations he had made in their ranch house because of Donna’s involuntary movements and instability in walking. She had five falls in their previous, two-story home.

 

As I had remembered him as a child and young adult, Greg was ebullient, enthusiastically speaking of his work as a computer programmer, his car, and his fiancé. He does not have HD symptoms.

 

We also discussed potential HD disease-modifying treatments – slowing, halting, or reversing the progression of symptoms.

 

I especially had in mind uniQure’s AMT-130, about which I had seen a presentation at the 20th Annual HD Therapeutics Conference in February in February. The uniQure program seemed the closest to seeking approval for its drug from the U.S. Food and Drug and Administration (FDA).

 

Since our dinner, we have stayed in touch.

 

On September 24, when uniQure announced that AMT-130 had successfully slowed the progression of HD, I texted Donna and Greg with the news.

 

“Wonderful news!” Donna and Greg both responded, echoing the elation of HD scientists and HD families.

 

I hope that we can continue to rebuild our lost family ties and support one another in the fight against HD, as we once did at the start of our HD journey with my mother’s diagnosis in 1995.

 

Rescuing neurons from death

 

HD occurs because of the massive death of brain cells (neurons).

 

AMT-130 is the first successful disease-modifying HD drug. In the uniQure clinical trial, it achieved its main goal and demonstrated a 75 percent slowing in the progression of the disease over a three-year period.

 

On September 25, Ed Wild, M.D.,Ph.D., a professor of neurology at University College London and an investigator on the uniQure program and senior advisor to the company, gave a podcast interview to HD gene carrier Lauren Holder of Help4HD International.

 

Dr. Wild pointed out that “AMT” refers to uniQure’s original name: Amsterdam Molecular Therapeutics. The Dutch and American company was founded in 1998.

 

Because it is a gene therapy, AMT-130 remains in the body permanently, thus allowing for the running of long clinical trials and without the drawback of a possible placebo effect, Dr. Wild explained. The effect of the drug “appears to be growing” over time, he added.

 

The 75-percent improvement went “dramatically beyond what any one of us could have dreamed of,” he said, adding that cognitive decline also slowed substantially.

 

AMT-130’s effectiveness lies in its reduction of the abnormal huntingtin protein in the brain.

 

Dr. Wild observed that the slowing of the disease has resulted from AMT-130’s “rescuing neurons” from death.

 

Because AMT-130 mainly targets the striatum (deep in the brain), other areas such as the cortex might still need treatment, perhaps done with another type of drug in a combination therapy, Dr. Wild observed.

 

He added that additional studies of the drug might be needed. “We’re up for all of that,” he said. “It’s putting flesh on the bones of what is already a winning recipe.”

 

Important details to be resolved

 

Many important details must be resolved before AMT-130 reaches HD patients.

 

In early 2026, uniQure plans to apply to the FDA for drug approval. Pending approval, the drug would be launched in the U.S. later in 2026. uniQure would need to gear up its AMT-130 operations to coordinate with HDSA and other patient and clinical organizations to inform the HD community about the drug and its availability.

 

Administering AMT-130 is far more complex than the pills or spinal injections used in other clinical trial programs: it involves 12 to 18 hours of brain surgery.

 

Dr. Wild noted that the treatment will be “expensive.” “The drug is made from a virus and so it has to be manufactured in specialized facilities,” he explained.

 

Dr. Wild estimated that, based on previous gene therapies, AMT-130 will cost $2 million per person.

 

“It’s obviously a lot of money, but we’re already spending a lot of money to keep people with Huntington’s cared for, to manage the symptoms, to provide assistance to their families,” he noted. The insurance industry, he said, also will need to agree to pay for the treatment.

 

Waiting for news of who can be treated

 

While the AMT-130 clinical trial included people in stages 2 and 3 of the disease (stage 4 being the worst), “it’s difficult to predict” who would get the treatment of an approved drug, Dr. Wild explained. He said the community needs to have the FDA permit as broad a label as possible: simply “Huntington’s disease.”

 

That label would allow people (like Greg and me) who have tested positive for the HD gene but lack visible symptoms to obtain the treatment. HD research has determined the disease process begins at birth, with the damage building over life, Dr. Wild observed. Gene therapy, a one-and-done treatment, is most potent when done early in life, he added.

 

Because of the conditions of accelerated approval granted by the FDA, uniQure would need to continue monitoring the drug, Dr. Wild said. If the drug does not work, approval can be removed.

 

A critique of AMT-130 and a call for accurate communication

 

Not everyone shares the same enthusiasm for AMT-130. Ignacio Muñoz-Sanjuán, Ph.D., the CEO of Rumi Scientific, a drug discovery company focused on genetic and neurological diseases, published a critique of uniQure’s AMT-130 data (click here to read more).

 

A native of Spain, Dr. Muñoz co-founded Factor-H, a charitable organization seeking to assist poor HD families in Latin America and raise awareness about their plight. He is the former vice president of translational biology for CHDI Foundation, Inc., the largest private funder of HD research and the sponsor of the annual HD Therapeutics Conference.

 

Dr. Muñoz agrees that the AMT-130 results are “a turning point for the field of HD and, more broadly, for the treatment of neurodegenerative conditions at large.”

 

However, Dr. Muñoz raised caveats about AMT-130. He wrote, for instance, that the study “only showed the results derived from 12 patients who have completed the full 36-month period” of the trial and they were “in the early stages” of the disease.

 

Dr. Muñoz urged uniQure to analyze data from “all individuals in the study.” With the “small number of individuals receiving the therapy, one or two people could be disproportionately contributing to the signals of protection demonstrated for the group average.” Twenty-nine volunteers took part.

 

“Families deserve a realistic sense of the commercial path ahead,” Dr. Muñoz added, advising “careful communication” with HD families. Access will “dominate the conversation,” he added, noting that “costs, geography, and the need for specialized neurosurgical centers will slow availability, creating disparities that will frustrate many families worldwide. The path to broad applicability will be slow and difficult.”

 

‘Day one of a new world’

 

I wish my parents, Paul and Carol Serbin, were still alive to witness this moment in the HD journey! An “HD warrior,” my father was my mother’s HD caregiver for over ten years.

 

Paul and Carol Serbin (family photo)

 

Although it is unclear whether Donna, Greg, and I will even have access to AMT-130, the news of its efficacy still brings us immense hope.

 

As my blog has documented the past 20-plus years, HD families face enormous stigma and tensions. I am overjoyed at my family’s rapprochement at this promising moment.

 

As Dr. Wild noted, before AMT-130 more than HD 100 clinical trials had been run, without disease modification.

 

“It’s day one of a new world, but it’s up to us to define the characteristics of that world and make sure that it’s capable of delivering the benefit to everyone who needs it,” including, he said, poor HD families in Venezuela who contributed blood samples in the search for the huntingtin gene.

 

“No one is free until everyone is free,” he said.

At HDF symposium, a Huntington’s disease ‘hero’ who prays for scientists to find a cure

 

Recognizing the invaluable input from people living with Huntington’s disease, the Hereditary Disease Foundation (HDF) featured a conversation with Michael, a 62-year-old HD-affected Boston man, at its biennial conference of scientists seeking therapies for this incurable disorder.

 

Michael was interviewed about his HD symptoms by neurologist Diana Rosas, M.D., of Harvard University and Massachusetts General Hospital.

 

Titled “Living with Huntington’s Disease: Family Perspectives,” this HDF tradition of focusing on an HD-affected person took place on August 8 during HD2024: Milton Wexler Biennial Symposium. Convening some 300 researchers, biopharma officials, and advocates, the event ran August 7-10 at the Royal Sonesta Boston Hotel in Cambridge, MA.

 

HD usually impedes speech. I saw that affecting my mother. She died of the disorder at 68 in 2006, after two decades of symptoms, and I carry the HD gene.

 

Michael struggled but persistently formed words and sentences. “I pray for everybody,” Michael said, referring to the quest for therapies, during the Q&A after the interview.

 

Michael’s former wife attended in support of his advocacy, as did his two sons, both in their 20s.

 

Michael (left), who has Huntington's disease, and his physician, Diana Rosas, M.D. (photo by Gene Veritas, aka Kenneth P. Serbin)

 

A diagnosis in 2017

 

Born in Chicago, Michael grew up in Princeton, NJ. As a young adult he moved to Boston, where he studied to become a French chef. He spent a year traveling through France to master his profession. He worked in several restaurants in Boston and also at Gillette Stadium for the NFL’s New England Patriots.

 

Michael believes his father had HD, although he was never formally diagnosed, due to the limited knowledge about the disease as Michael grew up in the 1970s. His father was also an alcoholic. Michael’s aunt also suffered from HD and went into a care home.

 

Michael was diagnosed with HD in 2017.

 

It became ‘too dangerous and messy’ to cook

 

Dr. Rosas is Michael’s physician. As she noted, many lab researchers have little contact with HD-affected individuals. The interview aimed to inform them of the complex triad of symptoms and many psychosocial challenges posed by HD.

 

Dr. Rosas asked Michael to address questions about the first type of symptoms: movement disorders, including involuntary movements.

 

These symptoms, Michael explained, caused him to stop cooking: it had become “too dangerous and messy.” It also became harder to dress himself.

 

Typical of HD patients (including my mother), Michael has suffered several serious falls, leading to a broken wrist, ribs, neck, a punctured lung, and a subdural hematoma (a serious injury to the head). Though he had participated in research conducted by Dr. Rosas, the hematoma has prevented him from participating in clinical trials, because of a restriction by pharmaceutical companies.

 

“I like helping out however I can,” he said of his participation in research.

 

Michael, who lives alone, does have a chocolate labrador retriever that he walks.

 

Michael used to drink alcohol daily and smoke heavily. The drinking caused one of his falls, he said. He quit both habits. Alcohol was a “big part” of his life, he recalled, adding that he doesn’t “miss the days of drinking.”

 

A greatly modified daily routine

 

Dr. Rosas brought up another part of the HD triad: cognitive loss, executive dysfunction, and failing memory.

 

Michael observed that his loss of executive function prevented him from cooking, which had required preparing items and “lots of multitasking.”

 

Though he “can remember my bank card number,” he has ongoing difficulties with memory. He pays his cable and phone bills but has an accountant to assist with his overall finances. He still cares for two salt-water fish tanks, an activity he took up in his 20s.

 

Michael arises at 6 a.m., when he takes his medications: risperidone, an antipsychotic, twice daily; deluxotine for depression; and a multi-vitamin. He also takes medical marijuana.

 

After some small accidents, Michael stopped driving, now relying on Uber.

 

Overcoming impulsiveness and depression

 

Regarding the third part of the triad, psychiatric and mood disorders, Dr. Rosas observed that HD-affected individuals can become fixated or impulsive.

 

Michael agreed that this has affected him, recalling that his drinking also led him to be “very impulsive.” He also suffers from depression. Many HD-affected people become angry when faced with unexpected changes in their daily routine. Michael has also experienced this type of anger. Getting over the anger can take time, he added.

 

Like many of the affected, Michael also has difficulties sleeping. His drinking had exacerbated this problem.

 

“It’s like your mind and body are always on with HD,” he observed.

 

Indeed, HD-affected individuals burn lots of calories. Dr. Rosas recommends five meals per day, although Michael said he eats three to four. 

 

Dr. Rosas interviews Michael about his HD symptoms (photo by Gene Veritas).

 

‘You are a hero!”

 

In the Q&A following the interview, Michael expanded on aspects of his life.

 

One has involved his relationship with his ex-wife and sons. Michael said that the divorce occurred around the time of his diagnosis and was “probably” the result of it.

 

Michael saluted his former spouse as “one of my huge supporters. I haven’t had a girlfriend after my divorce. We were married for 24 years.”

 

He said that he has “two great kids” who are “successful and happy.”

 

Michael also socializes with friends, some of them also divorced.

 

Asked about the work of the researchers, Michael said, “I love them to death.” He added that he is looking forward to new advances.

 

Dr. Rosas asked what most worries Michael about HD.

 

“I suppose going to a home, going to an assisted living situation,” he said.

 

His capacity to manage on his own prompted praise. “You are a hero!” declared Tacie Fox, a family advocate and co-trustee of The Fox Family Foundation (which supports HD research), leading the audience to applaud enthusiastically.

 

“It feels like you have somehow navigated in a way that brings you joy in your life,” she added. “We’re struggling with that with my little sister. She watches a lot of TV. I’m in awe that you, living on your own, have marshaled that inner strength.”

 

The key role of modifier genes

 

At 64, I have been extremely fortunate to have not been diagnosed with HD. It is likely that I have benefited from modifier genes and other factors.

 

Like the rest of the audience, I was deeply moved by Michael’s courage and perseverance in living with HD.

 

I hope that when the inevitable symptoms arrive, I will have the same strength as Michael.

 

Stay tuned for upcoming articles on the conference proceedings, including deep discussion of the key role of modifier genes in the search for therapies.

 

Disclosure: the Hereditary Disease Foundation covered my travel expenses.

New book by longtime advocate describes Milton Wexler’s incomparable contributions to Huntington’s disease research and beyond

 

A new book portrays the largely unexplored personal and psychological context of the quest to understand and defeat Huntington’s disease: a biographical memoir of Milton Wexler (1908-2007), the founder of the Hereditary Disease Foundation (HDF) and key mover in the discovery of the HD gene.

 

In late 2022, Wexler’s daughter, historian Alice Wexler, published The Analyst: A Daughter’s Memoir (Columbia University Press). She is a longtime Huntington’s disease advocate and chronicler of the cause.

 

The Analyst adds unique dimensions to HD history, building on Alice’s groundbreaking work. In 1995 she authored Mapping Fate: a memoir of family, risk, and genetic research (first published by Random House and Times Books, then reissued by the University of California Press). In 2008, she wrote The Woman Who Walked into the Sea: Huntington’s and the Making of a Genetic Disease (Yale University Press).

 

This year marks the 30th anniversary of the discovery of the huntingtin gene, announced in March 1993. Through the HDF and in collaboration with a global team of scientists, Milton and his neuropsychologist daughter Nancy, Alice’s sister, spearheaded the hunt for the gene, as recounted in Mapping Fate. In The Woman Who Walked into the Sea, Alice explored the social and medical history of HD in the 19th and 20th centuries, helping explain the stigma HD families still face.

 

The sisters’ mother Leonore was diagnosed with HD at the age of 53 in 1968. That led Milton to immediately start the HDF, which focused on the development of treatments.

 

In 1993 the discovery of huntingtin “immediately transformed Huntington’s research,” Alice writes in The Analyst. “Suddenly it was possible for researchers to make animal and cell models and study how the gene worked at the cellular and molecular level. They could test drugs and other molecules in mice and sheep, fish and flies, as well as in human beings.”

 

Milton was “ecstatic and also relieved,” Alice recalls. “We even allowed ourselves to imagine that a treatment, and possibly a cure, might be on the horizon.” HDF-sponsored researchers and other scientists around the globe are still striving to achieve that goal.

 

 

Meeting’s life’s difficult challenges

 

Drawing on access to her father’s extensive personal correspondence, her diary, and archival sources enabled Alice, with decades of hindsight, to present her father’s story – in which the fight against HD became his life mission – in intimate detail.

 

Describing Milton, Alice is meticulous, often critical, but always loving – a reflection of the complex relationship of a highly successful professional with daughters that he wanted the best for and whose lives he fought for. She adds a valuable feminist perspective, for example, interpreting her father’s friendships by analyzing masculinity and male intimacy in the 1950s.

 

In addition to Milton’s incomparable contributions to HD research, The Analyst depicts key aspects of American life in the second half of the 20th century. It delves into Jewish life in Brooklyn, which spurred Milton’s ambitions, taking him to Kansas and then to Los Angeles.

 

Portraying her father’s main career as a psychoanalyst, Alice helps to rescue the history of a field that has lost relevance with the emergence of other forms of therapy, though it continues as an intellectual field. Milton saw great value in psychoanalysis’s way of helping people understand their emotions but he increasingly practiced more direct forms of therapy, focused on the here-and-now. As he put it, “insight alone does not change behavior.”

 

Alice demonstrates how much of Milton's early career trying to understand and treat schizophrenia helped him to confront this other knotty problem, HD.

 

In an appendix, The Analyst lists “sayings of Milton Wexler” – including a 1998 note to a President Bill Clinton in crisis – regarding challenges such as the loss of a child, self-defeat, depression, personal identity, loneliness, and risk for a disease such as HD.

 

Milton’s embrace of talk therapy is a key reminder for HD families overwhelmed by the disease's  many social and personal challenges that help is available, and that individual and family therapy can make a difference. He believed that people should not have to struggle on their own.

 

In Los Angeles, Milton became a therapist for many in the arts and entertainment – a practice that he parlayed into significant donations for the HDF.

 

(Click here to read more about my own journey with psychoanalysis as an aid to fighting HD.)

 

‘The nightmare is the children’

 

With new material and perspective, Alice expands on the difficult moments described in Mapping Fate regarding  Leonore’s diagnosis, Milton’s deep fears that his daughters would be affected, and his  “frantic search for information” about HD and scientific contacts that in a matter of weeks spurred the concept of the HDF.

 

Leonore’s diagnosis and HD were “the great poison in my life,” Milton wrote his brother Henry in May 1968 in a letter uncovered by Alice. “But the nightmare is the children.[…] For me there is only dread in the air.”

 

Milton divorced Leonore but nevertheless cared for her impeccably and guaranteed her financial security. Leonore died in 1978 at 63, ten years after her diagnosis..

 

Providing intellectual fuel

 

With his background in psychology and prior experience as an attorney, Milton advocated for a multidisciplinary approach to solving HD and other neurological disorders. He championed the interplay of psychoanalysis and neuroscience in a move critical for HD research. He also grasped the growing importance of molecular genetics and its potential value for Huntington’s.

 

From this perspective Milton developed unique HDF workshops involving informal, spontaneous discussion – as opposed to dry scientific presentations with slides – as the main driver of the search for the HD gene and the quest for treatments. The first took place in 1971. Held in hotel rooms or at universities, these gatherings typically involved 15 to 20 participants.

 

As Alice reports, Milton believed that real creativity resulted from “casual conversation and carefree association among people in the same or related disciplines.”

 

While finding prestigious veteran scientists for HDF’s advisory board, Milton recruited younger researchers, including women, as the organization’s intellectual fuel.

 

As Alice observes, the HDF formed part of a trend in which “philanthropy assumed an increasingly influential role in funding science and meeting social needs.” Contributions to the HDF swelled. It established an endowment to fund future workshops and critical research grants.

 

The challenges of genetic testing

 

Alice reflects on her family’s monumental role in finding the gene and also the irony that neither she nor her sister chose to get the genetic test – a test which “opened a Pandora’s box of legal, social, and ethical challenges and raised many personal questions for Nancy and me.”

 

The test developed shortly after the 1993 discovery of huntingtin enabled 100 percent accuracy in detecting the HD mutation. Prior to this, research had established that each child of an affected parent has a 50-50 chance of inheriting that mutation. As Alice showed in The Woman Who Walked into the Sea, deep stigma and discrimination increased around HD in the 1900s.

 

“None of us considered the possibility of the genetic test to resolve the uncertainty,” Alice writes, referring to the time when she began noticing subtle changes in Nancy. “For all our knowledge of psychology, we turned to denial, that most primitive of defenses. We worried, we wondered, and then we denied. It simply could not be.”

 

Indeed, to this day, only about ten percent of persons at risk for HD choose to be tested.

 

At 81, Alice has not developed symptoms. In 2020, Nancy revealed her HD diagnosis to the New York Times. At 78, she bravely struggles with HD symptoms yet keeps abreast of the latest scientific developments. She now works with a writer on her memoir.

 

Solidarity and hope

 

Along with Mapping Fate and The Woman Who Walked into the Sea, Alice’s warm portrayal of her father in The Analyst shows how he helped the HD community advance in understanding the disorder and seek anxiously awaited treatments to slow, stop, or reverse the disease.

 

Milton lived a full, fascinating, and challenging life, dying peacefully in 2007 at age 98, at Alice and Nancy’s side. In multiple ways, he serves as a model – especially for the idea that when faced with an enormous and difficult challenge, becoming an activist can be the best form of  therapy.

 

The legacy of the discovery of huntingtin, as well as HDF’s scientific leadership, help build solidarity and hope for a better future for HD and all other neurodegenerative diseases.

 

 

Milton Wexler flanked by daughters Nancy (left) and Alice in 1992 (photo by Mariana Cook)

CHDI keynoter Charlotte Raven reflects on her fight against Huntington’s disease and the dashed hopes of a clinical trial

 

Like many affected by Huntington’s disease, renowned British journalist Charlotte Raven longed for the chance to participate in a clinical trial of a potential treatment for the incurable disorder.

 

Charlotte was diagnosed with Huntington’s in 2005. She inherited the genetic mutation from her father, who, after a long battle, died from HD in 2016.

 

In 2019 Charlotte had her wish fulfilled in London. As part of its HD clinical trial program to evaluate the efficacy of tominersen – the historic first attempt to attack the disease at its genetic roots – the pharmaceutical giant Roche was recruiting volunteers for GEN-PEAK, a small, Phase 1 study run in tandem with the larger, main, Phase 3 study.

 

Charlotte became “patient 1,” the first individual in GEN-PEAK to receive tominersen. If successful, the main trial would result in all participants in the program, including GEN-PEAK volunteers, receiving the treatment.

 

In her keynote speech at the recent 17th Annual HD Therapeutics Conference, Charlotte recalled the immense hope she felt about tominersen, shared by HD families around the globe: “Ever since I’d been picked to be on the trial, I’d woken up every morning thinking about the drug. It was like being in love. It was what I needed, wanted, looked forward to.”

 

A heartrending presentation

 

Those hopes were dashed on March 22, 2021, with Roche’s announcement that it was halting dosing of tominersen because of unfavorable efficacy data.

 

“Now that pinprick of light had been blacked out,” Charlotte told the 300 researchers, biopharma executives, and advocates gathered at the conference, held in Palm Springs, CA, and sponsored by CHDI Foundation, the nonprofit virtual biotech firm dedicated to developing HD therapies. “The world ended again; it felt exactly the same as the moment of my original diagnosis.”

 

Struggling with HD symptoms and assisted by her twelve-year-old son John, Charlotte bravely delivered a heartrending presentation, reading from a computer screen. Because Charlotte’s speech is slurred, the audience was provided access to an online script. She received a standing ovation.

 

Despite the bad news of 2021, drug hunters expressed renewed optimism about potential therapies. As reported in my previous article, the ensuing three days of scientific talks focused on multiple approaches. Indeed, Roche said it would test tominersen again in an improved clinical trial.

 

Assisted by son John, Charlotte delivers her keynote address (photo by Gene Veritas, aka Kenneth P. Serbin).

 

‘Feeling your personality crumble’

 

Charlotte’s keynote traced her career as an ambitious and controversial journalist and social commentator, her family’s fight against HD, and her efforts to cope with the symptoms and resulting limitations on her work and life.

 

The speech echoed Charlotte’s book Patient 1: Forgetting and Finding Myself, published last November. CHDI gave each conference attendee a copy.

 

In Patient 1, Charlotte provides a detailed, hauntingly beautiful portrait of the challenges posed by HD to both her and her extended family. Writing with help from her brother Daniel, as yet untested for the mutation, Charlotte intimately describes the toll HD has taken on her, robbing her of her memories and producing crippling anxiety.

 

“I wanted this book to be an accurate record of what it is like to exist with HD and to feel your brain and personality crumble,” Charlotte writes.

 

It also includes the first published account of the Roche program from a patient perspective.

 

‘A new leaf of hope’

 

During her CHDI keynote, to rest, Charlotte took two short breaks.

 

In the first interlude, with Charlotte looking on, her daughter Anna, 17, took the stage to speak of the special bond she has developed with her mother because of HD.

 

“Growing up under the shadow of Huntington’s has meant I’m often not the only priority, and sacrifices need to be made to make sure that my mom is properly looked after,” said Anna, who helps care for her mother.

 

Untested, both Anna and John have a 50-50 chance of inheriting the HD mutation. HD genetic testing protocols recommend against testing before age 18.

 

“Seeing and hearing about all these people working and researching to find treatments amazes me every day and makes everything seem a little less bleak,” Anna said. “The future for me, my brother, and my mom is unknown, but we have a new leaf of hope, and for that I would like to say thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

 

In the second interlude, Charlotte’s neurologist and clinical trial physician, Ed Wild, M.D., Ph.D., described her intellectual mettle. Dr. Wild wrote the Afterword to Patient 1. At the conference, he also recalled how “injecting 120 milligrams of tominersen into Charlotte’s spine in 2019” was one of his “proudest moments” in his career of helping HD patients.

 

Watch the entire keynote presentation in the video below, which includes the option of closed captioning.

 

 

The best team for defeating HD

 

Charlotte finished the speech with a tribute to researchers and a reflection on how confronting HD has “humbled me, and helped me connect more with the people around me, which is a new skill that I’ve been working on with commitment and persistence.”

 

“GEN-PEAK may have turned out to be a blind alley, but it was still a step on the journey towards a cure, and I still feel proud to have been part of it,” she said. “I’ve lived a fairly selfish life in lots of ways, so it seems oddly fitting that this last thing I did to save myself, might end up saving others instead.”

 

Charlotte noted an irony: she could write Patient 1, with its portrayal of HD's impact, only because the disease had mentally “compromised” her.

 

“I feel like I’ve finally been able to portray my family and friends as they really are instead of as I’d like them to be,” she added. “They are coming to life.”

 

She concluded: “Anna and I cannot get over how HD is such a rare disease, yet somehow attracts so many of the world’s brightest and best scientists. In my complicated journey with empathy, this is the most striking gift I can imagine.”