A Glass Half Full

Yesterday marked the beginning of cycle number six for my third-line chemotherapy treatment. In this regimen, one full cycle is comprised of four weeks. During week one, two different chemotherapeutics (carboplatin and paclitaxel) are given along with the requisite premedication (steroid, anti-nausea meds, and an antihistamine). During both the second and third weeks of a cycle, I receive only one chemotherapeutic (paclitaxel) and the same premeds. Week four is a holiday/break, with no scheduled treatment that helps provide recovery time for blood counts and other markers. Then the four-week cycle repeats.

Lorie and Michael Becker in the chemotherapy suite at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center on 12/5/17

Having received five cycles over the past five months, my blood counts are slower to recover – particularly my white blood cells. As a result, my medical oncologist (Dr. David Pfister at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center (MSKCC)) modified the last treatment to forgo the third week of chemo since that is usually about the time that my white blood cells are on the low side. In other words, the most recent two cycles of treatment have been “two weeks on, two weeks off” meaning that I get two chemotherapeutics (carboplatin and paclitaxel) on week one, only paclitaxel on week two and then a two-week break during weeks three and four before starting the cycle over again.

Considering that the latest 2/5 cycles have been reduced in terms of the total amount of chemo I’m receiving, it is encouraging to see that each CT scan still shows decreases in the size of some tumors. For example, take the largest tumor (on my spleen) that originally measured 6.4 cm on its longest axis and 6.0 cm on its shortest axis back in early January 2017. Since starting third-line chemo over the summer, those dimensions have decreased on each subsequent CT scan: 5.4 x 4.8 cm, 3.2 x 2.6 cm and most recently 2.9 x 2.0 cm. Many other lymph nodes in my lungs and abdomen are also now 1 cm x 1 cm or smaller, which is typically the size of a “normal” lymph node—although PET imaging would help inform whether or not there is still disease activity.

But just exactly how unusual or encouraging is all of this? During the MSKCC appointment, I gathered that the general expectation would have been decreased disease from the first treatment cycle, perhaps stable disease on the second cycle and then possibly progressive disease on the third or later cycles. Bottom line: my cancer continued to decrease across all three recent scans, which is better than normally expected.

I’m happy about the results and extremely thankful that I received strong encouragement to give chemotherapy another chance. And it’s not just about tumors shrinking, there have also been meaningful improvements in my quality of life. For instance, at the start of chemotherapy I had not one but two chest tubes placed to help reduce fluid around my left lung. Both have since been removed, as the fluid buildup is gone. Associated side effects with the fluid, such as coughing and difficulty breathing have also disappeared. Oh, and it is a lot easier to shower without wrapping your chest and abdomen in plastic wrap each time to avoid water getting into the tubes!

I’m a curious person by nature and seeking potential answers as to “why” my disease is responding a bit better than expected to the current chemo regimen. As a long-time champion of immunotherapy, I can’t help but wonder about my prior second-line therapy with M7824, an experimental bispecific fully human antibody designed to simultaneously block two immuno-inhibitory pathways (both PD-L1 and TGF-β) that are commonly used by cancer cells to evade the immune system. The aim of this investigational drug is to control tumor growth by restoring and enhancing anti-tumor immune responses.

While receiving M7824 at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) as a participant in their Phase I trial, results from biopsies of both my tumor and pleural fluid provided evidence of immune system activation in the vicinity of the tumor, indicating that the experimental agent M7824 was performing as designed. In particular, the presence of tumor-reactive CD8-positive T-cells, which have emerged as the predominant effector in most cancer immunotherapy settings[1]. In fact, one published study in head and neck cancer patients whose tumors were densely infiltrated by CD3-positive and CD8-positive T cells had a significantly longer overall survival (OS) and progression-free survival (PFS) compared with patients whose tumors were poorly infiltrated[2].

It’s quite possible that based on the large tumor burden in my body, the immune system activation resulting from M7824 might not have been able to overpower the disease. However, with my tumor burden now having decreased substantially through subsequent chemotherapy, I can’t help but wonder if M7824 could be playing a role in my ongoing disease improvement.

While answering this question is purely academic, it could help inform the design of future combination studies with M7824 and chemotherapy. From a personal perspective, it would also validate that I made the right decision to jump into the M7824 trial after failing first-line therapy (chemoradiation).

As someone with no formal medical training, my initial thought was to have the largest, most accessible tumor biopsied to look for residual immune system activation. Unfortunately, the largest remaining tumor is on my spleen and my oncologist frowned on the prospects of poking needles around that area. A good to time to remind readers that while I have a fair amount of working knowledge in biotech, I always rely upon the wisdom and experience of the treating physician. They’ve gone to med school…I have not.

But I do feel it is very important, to the full extent possible and without substantial added risk to me, to find some signal—even if anecdotal—that M7824 did something good. For my friends in the medical community, please feel free to email me any ideas or thoughts!

References:

[1] Targeting CD8+ T-cell tolerance for cancer immunotherapy. Stephanie R Jackson, Jinyun Yuan, and Ryan M Teague. Immunotherapy. 2014 Jul; 6(7): 833–852.

[2] Tumour-infiltrating lymphocytes predict response to definitive chemoradiotherapy in head and neck cancer. P Balermpas, Y Michel, J Wagenblast, O Seitz, C Weiss, F Rödel, C Rödel and E Fokas. British Journal of Cancer (2014) 110, 501–509. doi:10.1038/bjc.2013.640

Good Luck Charm?

It was July 18, 2017 when I started my third line of treatment (carboplatin/paclitaxel) for Stage IV squamous cell carcinoma of the head and neck. Things weren’t exactly going great at the time and I remember thinking that I wouldn’t make it until my 49th birthday in November.

For example, I had two chest tubes to manage a pleural effusion (buildup of fluid in the pleural lining of the lung). My tumors were slowly growing with each CT scan. Additionally, I had an IVC filter put in to manage clots since blood thinners had caused bleeding issues. I was a mess and in-and-out of the hospital constantly.

Earlier today, however, I received my third consecutive CT scan report since starting chemo again that showed further decreases in my lung, spleen, and pleural metastases (where the cancer had spread). It looks as though the cancer continues to respond to the treatment, which is great news.

It just goes to show the perils of trying to answer the question every cancer patient wants to know: How much more time do I have left? It doesn’t stop us from asking physicians, but as a dear friend consistently points out to me – you just have to live in the moment and enjoy every day. Much easier said than done, but sage advice nonetheless.

Our pup Humphrey

I can’t help but wonder if our 8-month old golden retriever puppy, Humphrey, is perhaps some kind of good luck charm? We got him about a month before I started treatment and things have been going relatively well since then. Not that we need another reason to love him! He’s such a clown, always making us laugh and smile. We love all of our other pets too, but there’s just something about Humphrey that makes him special. At the very least, he’s a great therapy dog for me.

In any event, today is a very good day. It will be nice to bask in the warmth of some good news as the colder weather of the season approaches.

Two Years Gone

You’ll know from the opening pages of my memoir A Walk with Purpose that it was the day before Thanksgiving in 2015 when I first discovered a large lump on the right side of my neck. The discovery catapulted me on a journey that I never could have imagined, full of twists and turns and changing the very fiber of my being—physically, emotionally and spiritually.

A lot has changed in the past two years—some good, some bad, some perhaps downright ugly. But Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays—a time of reflection and giving thanks for the goodness of the season past instead of complaining about what we don’t have.

Throughout the process of writing my memoir, I was constantly amazed to see how all the gifts and experiences of this world came together like tiny puzzle pieces to reveal the bigger purpose of my life. In particular, how an unlikely career path to the biotechnology industry would help forge key relationships, open new doors, and help me navigate a cancer diagnosis and treatment through the knowledge gained over decades of service and leadership. Most importantly, how I could use all of the aforementioned to help others facing head and neck cancer caused by the human papillomavirus (HPV).

In some ways, my revelation was reminiscent of the first time I saw the movie Signs written and directed by M. Night Shyamalan. In the movie, a father and former priest lives with his asthmatic son, his daughter who constantly leaves glasses of water sitting out around the house, and his younger brother, a failed minor league baseball player, on an isolated farm in Bucks County, Pennsylvania (coincidentally where we have lived for more than 15-years…). The father lost his faith and gave up his priesthood after his wife died in a local traffic accident. Towards the end of the movie, a crucial scene reveals the unlikely connection between asthma, glasses of water, and the mother’s final words to her husband instructing his brother to “swing away.” At the end of the movie, the father is shown returning to his priestly duties, apparently having regained his faith.

During 2017, I was fortunate to write and publish (then rewrite and republish…) my memoir. Since my diagnosis, I’ve also published a total of 70 posts (gulp!) on my patient blog. Supporting these efforts, I’ve worked with a publicist and conducted numerous interviews and penned guest editorials for various media outlets. All of these actions designed to: 1) help increase awareness of HPV and its link to six cancers in men and women; 2) underscore the need for additional prevention efforts for HPV-associated cancers, including efforts to increase vaccination coverage; 3) correct the misperception that HPV is mainly a disease affecting women; and, 4) highlight how HPV can be spread in the fluids of the mucosal membranes, which line the mouth, throat and genital tracts. Looking back at my efforts, I hope you’ll agree it has been a productive year.

I’m currently going through my third treatment regimen (chemotherapy) with the simple hope of buying more time. My body is weary from repeated assault with toxic chemicals aimed to keep the cancer at bay—hoping to see the day when a better treatment option becomes available. Fortunately, my current quality of life allows me to continue my walk with purpose. In fact, today I am doing a couple of media interviews and meeting with a head and neck cancer patient support group in Princeton, New Jersey.

My next CT scan has been scheduled for the last week of November. The results of which will inform whether or not my cancer continues to shrink, stays stable, or is progressing. Regardless of the outcome, I strive to simply live in the moment and take advantage of the Thanksgiving period to consider how we can spread more happiness around, to look back at all the great memories and good people who came into our lives.

May the good things of life be yours in abundance not only during November but throughout the coming year. Thank you to everyone with an interest in my story for your continued support and for keeping in touch!

Book Re-Released

When I first started seriously writing my memoir in January 2017, I was in a bit of rush to get it completed. At the time, my disease outlook was less than favorable and I didn’t know how much time I would have to write. Somehow, I was able to complete and publish “A Walk with Purpose: Memoir of a Bioentrepreneur” before the end of April that same year.

Since then, my cancer has responded well to the current chemotherapy regimen. Six-months after publishing my book things are still stable — although I’m living from CT scan to CT scan.

After stepping away from my book for a while, I recently took the time to reread it with a fresh set of eyes. Besides, a lot has transpired over the last six-months. With the benefit of more time, I sought to revise some sections and remove others. I also updated the ending of the story to reflect my current prognosis.

If you have purchased an eBook version of the novel in the past, the new version is now available via Amazon at no cost. Simply update the content on your “Manage Your Content and Devices” page (www.amazon.com/gp/digital/fiona/manage).

Customers who download eBooks through Kindle Unlimited will receive the updated content as long as they haven’t returned the Kindle Unlimited borrow before the content update is initiated.

At this time, customers who download eBooks through Kindle Owners’ Lending Library don’t receive updated content.

Going forward, anyone who purchases either the paperback or eBook version will receive only the new, updated copy. To verify whether or not you are viewing the new/updated version, look for the text “5.1.101817” at the end of the copyright page (see red circle in image example).

While it’s not a complete rewrite, there are substantial updates throughout for those considering whether or not to reread the book.

Good News and TGIF

Earlier this week, I had my periodic CT scan to determine whether or not the chemotherapy I’ve been receiving is continuing to work. I just received word from MSKCC moments ago that indeed many of the tumors continued to shrink compared to my last imaging procedure in August (which showed a decrease in tumor size almost across the board). Importantly, there weren’t any new lung metastasis.

Raspberry flavored, oral contrast agent to drink before CT scan

Clearly, this is very good news. In a perfect world, one would like to see all the tumors completely disappear. That would be highly unusual, so I will gladly accept serial decreases in the tumors from period-to-period.

This coming Tuesday, I should receive my chemotherapy doublet (provided that my blood counts are sufficient).

That’s all for now…short and sweet…as I am going to hug my family and enjoy the weekend.

The Space Between

The purpose of my blog and entries is multifaceted. Some are designed to entertain, while others focus on education and enlightenment for those suffering from cancer and the people who surround them. Others are simply updates on my disease for family and friends.

I don’t consider myself an optimist or pessimist, but rather a realist. Accordingly, I prefer to let the facts in my blog speak for themselves and let you, the reader, decide if the glass is half full or half empty.

For me, life is usually viewed in absolutes. Things are either black or white; rarely, if ever, shades of gray. And I like it this way…nice and neat. This is probably why uncertainty, which falls into the shades of gray zone, doesn’t sit well with me. Unfortunately, living with a terminal cancer diagnosis introduces a fair amount of uncertainty – almost from day one.

It starts with waiting for the initial diagnosis. Is it cancer or not? Usually this is a black or white analysis. The diagnosis of cancer then leads to a myriad of uncertainties. The patient wants to know details about the treatment options, their side effects and quality of life, and whether the potential for cure exists. Lots of gray zone issues suddenly appear.

Although clearly outside of my comfort zone, I’ve been able to successfully navigate the sea of uncertainties for the past two years with one notable exception: how much time do I have remaining? Or at the very least, how much time remaining where my quality of life allows me to function as a productive member of society?

Right now, life isn’t horrible. Sure, I suffer side effects from weekly chemotherapy treatment, such as loss of appetite and fatigue. And I lost my hair but save a ton of money on haircuts and shampoo. Nevertheless, I’m able to enjoy time with family and friends and keep busy with my mission to help raise awareness of the human papillomavirus (HPV), six cancers that are directly linked to HPV, and the available vaccines that could prevent such cancers for others in the future.

Enduring weekly chemotherapy is made easier given the fact that my tumors decreased in size according to my last imaging procedure. Exactly what the tumor regression means in terms of extending my life is unknown. Reality check – published scientific literature still favors that celebrating the New Year isn’t a likely event for me.

However, every patient is different – and there is one absolute truth in life: no one knows exactly when or how they will die. While perhaps the exception versus the norm, we’ve all heard dramatic stories about people living longer than originally expected. My realist nature makes me reject such anecdotes, but it does allow me to consider the fact that progress in treating cancer is advancing at a rapid pace and perhaps my existing treatments will buy me just enough time to receive some new exciting approach that keeps my disease in check.

In the interim, my greatest challenge is what to do with the “space between.” I’m talking about the period between now and when I eventually die, which could be measured in as little as one, two, or three months or as many as several years. No one knows for sure.

For example, I could start to write a new book. Although having recently gone through that process, it is a tremendous investment of time and focus away from spending quality time with family and friends. While it could be a worthwhile sacrifice, I just couldn’t bear the thought of embarking down that road again without knowing that I had sufficient time to finish it.

My other passion, photography, is made challenging since I really don’t know how much energy or how I’m going to be feeling on any given day. This makes scheduling photo sessions weeks in advance to allow adequate preparation time a risky proposition at best. For example, I never could have predicted ending up in the hospital on three separate occasions in July/August (including a trip to the intensive care unit). While life has been quite calm as of late (thank goodness…) there is always the chance that something else is lurking around the corner.

Besides, I was already able to complete two significant bucket-list items this year with the publication of both my memoir A Walk with Purpose and large format, high-quality, coffee table photography book, Strength, Confidence, & Beauty. In the near future, could I really top what I’ve already accomplished in each area?

Equally important to projects that produce legacy materials of a life well-lived, there is that pesky task of providing income to help support my family. I haven’t quite found an appropriate place on my resume for “terminal cancer patient” and I suspect few employers would find that an attractive attribute. On the flip side, freelance work or part-time positions might be workable solutions.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not laying on the couch every day pondering the “space between” and wallowing in depression. I’ve been keeping plenty busy promoting my books and taking advantage of the plethora of amazing media outlets that express an interest in helping me with my HPV awareness mission. Perhaps that is simply how I’m meant to fill the space between?

At first, I thought if I could simply touch one person’s life through my efforts then I made a difference. But I’ve been inundated with messages from family, friends, and complete strangers who share personal stories about having their children vaccinated for HPV as a direct result of my efforts. Is there anything else I could do that would be as gratifying?

If you or a loved one is affected by cancer, I’d love to hear how you deal with the space between. Rather than messaging me directly, please feel free to comment on this post so that others can benefit from your shared experience.

Calm

It’s been a few weeks since my last blog post, so I wanted to provide a brief update. The good news is that life has been rather uneventful – no trips to the emergency room, no new side effects, etc. Let’s face it, we were due for a break!

Last week was not only the Labor Day Holiday but also a scheduled break from chemotherapy to allow my blood counts, etc. to recover. As a result, as of Monday morning I was feeling better than any time in recent memory. My appetite has been good and my energy level afforded us an opportunity to take our puppy Humphrey with us to walk around a local art fair this past weekend.

This week, however, I’m back to week #1 of my treatment schedule starting with a doublet of chemotherapies (paclitaxel and carboplatin). For me, the carboplatin results in greater side effects, particularly stomach upset, decreased appetite, and fatigue. My typical four week treatment “cycle” looks like this:

Week #1: paclitaxel + carboplatin
Week #2: paclitaxel only
Week #3: paclitaxel only
Week #4: holiday/break (no treatment)
Lather, rinse & repeat

Before this week’s chemo appointment, I had time and energy to visit with another one of my social media connections for the first time (@BursatilBiotech). She traveled from Argentina to New York with a relative for vacation and we had arranged a brief meeting in the morning while she was in town.

@BursatilBiotech and Michael Becker

My next chemo break falls during the first week of October. At that time, I’ll have my periodic imaging procedure to see if the cancer is continuing to respond favorably to the treatment. Based on improved air flow to my lungs, I’m hopeful for some continued good news.

In the meantime, I’ve been keeping busy with my mission to raise awareness for the human papillomavirus (HPV), its direct link to six cancers, and the available vaccines that can prevent HPV. For example, my guest editorial on the topic appears in this week’s issue of BioCentury and is freely available to view on their website by clicking here. In addition, last Thursday I did a television interview with CURE Today and you can view the first segment on their website by clicking here. I’m so very grateful to these and other media outlets that have provided me with a platform to advance my mission!

Most importantly, today is another gift that I will truly treasure…as I get to celebrate my youngest daughter’s birthday. Happy 17th birthday Megan!!