An ‘electric,’ inspiring Thanksgiving for the Huntington’s disease community

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I’ve reflected on it many times in this blog. For me, rather than the commercialism and stress associated with the holidays, it’s truly a day of relaxation, the warmth of friends and family, and gratitude.

This year, the Huntington’s disease community has bountiful reasons for thanks. Several clinical trials to test what might become the first effective treatments are in progress, and the community has demonstrated spirited participation.

The historic Roche gene-silencing program successfully started its crucial third and final phase, GENERATION HD1, earlier this year. The program includes an open-label extension of all 46 participants in the first phase, completed in December 2017, all of them receiving the drug RG6042 via a monthly injection into the cerebrospinal fluid (CSF).

“Two years ago, we showed for the first time – about 25 years after the discovery of the gene –the ability to lower CSF levels of mutant huntingtin [protein] in patients with HD, which was a very exciting first-in-human accomplishment, and that was really the springboard that allowed us to proceed to our global development program,” Scott Schobel, M.D., M.S., Roche’s associate group medical director and clinical science leader for RG6042, reported at the 26th annual Huntington Study Group (HSG) meeting on November 8. “So these heroic 46 volunteers were the foundation of that.”

GENERATION HD1 is “recruiting incredibly well,” Dr. Schobel said. “It’s been absolutely electric.” Total worldwide enrollment in GENERATION HD1 and related studies has surpassed 800. “It’s been a huge response from the community,” he added.

Several other programs provided updates at the HSG meeting.

Although much work remains to develop effective therapies, HD families and their supporters can feel proud for helping further the progress achieved in 2019.

Priscilla’s inspiring fight and peaceful paintings

An HD-stricken woman I know from Brazil, Priscilla Ferraz Fontes Santos, embodies the life-force of the HD cause. I saw Priscilla in 2013 at the sixth World Congress on Huntington’s Disease in Rio de Janeiro, and got to know her at #HDdennomore, Pope Francis’ special audience with the HD community in Rome in 2017.

Brazilians don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, but Priscilla’s words, paintings, and photos help us feel the peace and hope of our quintessentially American holiday.

Priscilla was stricken with juvenile HD as a teenager. She had played soccer, pursued acting, and completed her journalism degree, but the disease prevented her from finishing a second degree in tourism.

Many juvenile patients do not live past 30. Priscilla is 36. She takes no drugs to control her involuntary movements and other symptoms but instead relies on alternative and spiritual approaches, including yoga. However, she also follows HD clinical trials and hopes for a cure.

Starting November 22 and ending December 10, Priscilla and her art teacher are staging an exhibit of Priscilla’s paintings in Serra Grande, a town in the state of Bahia. They have called it “Colored Atmosphere.”

Priscilla with two of her paintings (family photo)

“The past two and a half years, I have been taking painting and art classes, and I have discovered for myself the pleasure and well-being that painting brings,” Priscilla wrote in an introduction to the exhibit. “As I await the cure, I have gained the courage to overcome many difficulties and meet challenges with the ever-present support of my family, friends, and health professionals who care for me.”

Priscilla ended with this wish: “I hope that you enjoy my paintings and that they awaken in you all of the strength, beauty, and joy with which I painted them.” (I translated the text from the original Portuguese.)

Priscilla is an “inspiration of strength and positive thinking” for all of us, Priscilla’s mother Lígia wrote in a message in Brazilian WhatsApp group dedicated to the HD cause.

Priscilla practicing yoga (family photo)

Symptom-free, but awaiting treatments

As always, I am profoundly grateful for not having yet developed any of the inevitable classic symptoms of HD, which struck my mother in her late 40s and ended her life at 68.

I turn 60 next month – an age at which my mother had full-blown HD and could no longer care for herself.

Last week, I presented my new book on Brazilian history to an audience at the University of San Diego. I had never imagined I would still be able to write at age 60.

Even more importantly, I’m able to continue supporting and loving my wife Regina and daughter Bianca. A sophomore at the University of Pennsylvania and HD-free, Bianca will spend Thanksgiving with friends in Connecticut. However, in a few weeks she will be home for winter break.

I am crossing my fingers that GENERATION HD1 and other trials can produce an effective treatment – and that I can hold on long enough to benefit and share more precious time with my family.

‘Twas the morning after Christmas – and Huntington’s disease hit us like a ton of bricks

I dedicate this article to the repose of the brave souls who have lost the fight against Huntington’s disease.

Twenty years ago this holiday season, my wife Regina and I received news that changed our lives forever: my mother Carol Serbin had been diagnosed with Huntington’s disease, and I had a 50-50 chance of having inherited the genetic defect that caused the deadly disorder.

It happened the morning after Christmas 1995.

As I took stock of that year and looked forward to 1996, I felt calm and accomplished and, despite my habitual caution, even swaggered a bit. I was savoring that extra-special, carefree holiday feeling of the college professor: finals were over, grades were in, and I had a month off.

I felt immensely privileged. In addition to winter and summer breaks devoted to reading and relaxation, my position afforded me annual trips to pursue historical research in the country that had become my second home: Brazil. I felt confident as I neared the half-way mark to tenure, which would provide me job security.

In five days, on December 31, I would turn 36. Regina, who was 29, and I had purchased a condo near the university. It was just a few minutes’ drive from the beach in San Diego, a city with spectacular scenery and perhaps the world’s best climate.

My achievements gave my parents great pride and vicarious fulfillment. My father Paul had moved our family from Cleveland to Anaheim in June 1966, but, two weeks later, missing home and regretful that we kids would grow up far from our doting grandparents, packed up everything and moved us back. Regina and I now could live the California dream he had pined for. She and I talked of starting a family and saving for a vacation home in Rio de Janeiro, where she grew up.

At around midday, everything suddenly changed.  In a phone call with my sister in Cleveland, I received the greatest shock of my life: my mother had HD.

Paul and Carol Serbin around the time of her diagnosis with Huntington's disease (above, family photo) and a decade later as the disease ravaged her mind and body (below, photo by Gene Veritas, aka Kenneth P. Serbin)

We had never heard of Huntington’s disease. According to my mother’s doctors, the disease was untreatable, inexorably destroying her brain. It was causing her to shake uncontrollably – and to lose her mind.

Learning that I had a 50-50 chance of carrying the bad gene instantly put all of our hopes and dreams on hold.

Would we be able to start a family? Could we still buy that condo in Rio? In bed one night shortly thereafter, as I became gripped with fear, Regina held me tightly.

Kenneth and Regina Serbin after his dissertation defense, University of California, San Diego, 1992 (family photo)

Still symptom-free

Each year since, Christmas has brought a sorrowful reminder of my mother’s diagnosis – and of the risk I face. After much personal reflection and discussion with Regina, I got tested for HD in 1999, and unfortunately learned I was a carrier of the defective gene.

Through more than 200 articles in this blog since 2005, I have told the story of my family’s battle, chronicled the scientific movement to defeat HD, and explored the challenges of individuals, families, and society coping with this vexing, tragic disease.

As the 20th anniversary of our initiation into HD approaches, I recognize how fortunate I am to have remained free of the classic symptoms. This month I turn 56, an age when my mother faced the triad of HD problems: chorea (uncontrollable movements), cognitive difficulties, and emotional and behavioral disorders.

As I watched her decline and ultimately die of HD in 2006, after nearly two decades of suffering, I never imagined that I would reach this stage symptom-free. At my recent, annual visit to my neurologist, she found no signs of the disease.

I have much to be thankful for. I savor every moment like a sip of fine wine.

Regina, an educator, just obtained her administrative certificate, which qualifies her to shift from teaching to a job as principal. Our beloved daughter Bianca, who tested negative in the womb, will not develop juvenile Huntington’s. She’s a hard-working high school student, choral singer, and field hockey player.

Still able to pursue my professional passions, I am writing a book on ex-revolutionaries in power in Brazil and advocating with the rest of the HD community for better care and the discovery of effective treatments.

The Serbin Family 2015 Holiday card (family photos)

A lonely holiday

However, I know that I am not in the clear. Because I carry the bad gene, I will develop HD.

As an advocate, each day I share in the suffering of other families hit with Huntington’s.

This Christmas season, as I celebrate my family’s accomplishments, it’s lonely without my parents.

Because of HD, my mother could never really hold baby Bianca. HD took Carol’s life when she was just 68, robbing her of the opportunity to watch Bianca grow into a young woman.

I can’t share with my mom the success and many happy moments that she desired for me.

I also miss my father, the “HD warrior” who cared for Carol daily for more than a decade as her symptoms worsened and died with a broken heart three years after her death, in 2009.

Awaiting the gift of a cure

In 1995 we were so young, full of plans and hopes!

Huntington’s disease took away our innocence. In those first months after learning of my mother’s diagnosis, I began for the first time to comprehend mortality and the preciousness of time.

Because of HD, life became something very different from what I imagined it might be.

As I look back on the past 20 years, however, I recognize that for many, with or without HD, a smooth path cannot be predicted. And I recognize that life has brought me many good things.

Unlike my mother, who had no inkling that HD was ravaging her brain, I have had the chance to build a strategy to avoid onset and plan for the many social implications of the disease.

While my mother developed HD before the gene was even discovered in 1993, I live at a time when historic clinical trials might turn HD into a disease that can be managed like diabetes and other conditions.

This Christmas, as I commemorate the birth of Christ, I am thankful that my parents gave me the gift of life.

I look forward to a future holiday season when Huntington’s disease families can rejoice in a cure.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Gene Veritas at the San Diego shore (family photo)