Category Archives: MS outcomes

Change Control

PML risk shown in a scatter plot.
PML risk shown in a scatter plot.

It is funny how studying a subject can alter how you think about problem identification and solving. For example, I studied economics in college, and I evaluate many situations and choices from an opportunity cost perspective. If I do this, what am I not able to do? Now I am a project manager, and I routinely look for setting up decision points and metrics by which I will decide whether or not to change and how to change. I look at the strongest part of my management style is a clear but agile change control process.

So when I get involved in a project, the nice part is the defined end-point possibly with decision points along the way. If it is a well planned project, I have various decision points preplanned. Then it is just a question of gathering the information to make the best choice possible. Thinking like this is what started me taking Tysabri.

When I started taking Tysabri, I was flaring frequently and had just been in the hospital for problems swallowing. People who know me are probably sick of the “losing 13 pounds in 6 days when no on Biggest Loser” line. I was having at least two flares a year, and the last one had been on my brain stem. I couldn’t exercise much, and I was miserable. Talking with J, we decided, “Give me five good years over thirty crappy ones.” Over the years, I regained enough balance to run and exercise. I felt more healthy or at least able to fake it well enough to surprise people when they heard I had MS. After five relatively stable years, J and I said the “Give me five good years over thirty crappy ones” mantra still applies.

Now, after eight years on Tysabri, I am back to looking at other treatments. Why? It is not because I am notably flaring. In fact, my progression of symptoms has slowed down to what I always thought aging would be like albeit slightly faster. For that matter, I plan on running a half marathon at Yellowstone this summer.

A couple of years after I started taking Tysabri, a test came out to see if patients have been exposed to the JC virus. Over half of us have been, but for those who have not there is no significant risk of getting the brain infection PML which is the biggest risk factor for those taking Tysabri. I did not want the test because the risk of getting PML, even if positive, was one I was willing to take. Eventually, it was mandated that I take the test so they could track people taking the drug to better understand and quantify the risks. I was positive, but that did not matter in terms of deciding to stay on Tysabri.

Progress is a marvelous thing. As the years have passed, they have refined the test to look at how many antibodies are present. With that information, they are able to assign different categories for the likelihood a patient will develop PML. I have always been OK, as my odds have never gotten worse than my admittedly arbitrary threshold of 1 in 200. That is the mortality rate of chemo recommended to treat the most treatable cancers (recommended if going solely on mortality charts).

However, when looked at over time, my readings are a bit concerning. In July 2014, my reading was 1.10. In three successive tests since then, my count has increased in each to 1.41 in March 2016. Now the accuracy of the tests is something I question, but I admit that is my bias from looking at government stats for a living. I believe everything after the decimal point is suspect. However, each of the successive readings has been higher than the last reading and the trend of multiple readings is something I have a harder time ignoring. This sent me back to look at MS Research Blog for the most recent data I can find.

A few things leap out at me as I review the data. The first is the data only accounts for patients who have taken Tysabri for up to 72 months (6 years). The odds get worse with time on Tysabri, so it seems likely my odds for getting PML are worse than the stated odds for people in my titre tier. The second concern is the big jump in risk between 1.3 and 1.5. Given the risk categories get worse with each titre tier, it seems likely there is no magic number where 1.4999999 is fine, but 1.50 is much riskier. Does my risk really go from 1 in 769 to 1 in 118 with just a tiny bit higher reading (leaving off my questioning the accuracy)? I suspect it follows the trend line between each of the tiers.

Given my time on Tysabri and my reading, I suspect I am nearing my 1 in 200 threshold. However, I feel OK. I like to think of myself making logic based decisions, and I tend to think these decisions are best made before emotion enters. For example, when I buy a stock, I do so only when I can identify selling points high and low. At the high or low point, I have a decision to make on keeping or selling based on what I think my options are at the time with a bias towards getting out. It always seems important to me to set expectations and recognize when they have been met to a “good enough” extent.

The 1 in 200 is supposed to be my decision point with a bias towards getting out based on how my odds are trending. It is just hard to make decisions based on odds when the decision likely involves worsening conditions… they are just less worse than a likely alternative. So pardon me while I take a few months to enjoy the relative calm in my MS, to be thankful for the 8 years of comparatively good health, to research my next steps, and to run because I still can. Deciding to change need not always be instant, and maybe the time to change is what I buy myself by deciding now. That is the point of a change control process, to have in place a set time to change and a method for determining how to change.

However, change control does not make the change and contemplating what it portends easier.

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The Chasm Between Sickville and Wellville Bridged by Imperfect Language

I wonder what K makes of the blur of images as she swings from a tree swing at a Memorial Day pig roast.
I wonder what K makes of the blur of images as she swings from a tree swing at a Memorial Day pig roast.

We all think we understand and are speaking the same language, but I suspect words only loosely convey experience. What’s more, words seem less likely to maintain their conductivity of meaning when used to describe experiences that one or both sides have not experienced. I think this chasm of experience is part of what leads to the perceptions I see expressed on MS message boards between the lands of Wellville and the sometimes wasteland of Sickville. I encounter this gulf every time I try to explain the blindness I have experienced most often of late. We all think we know what “blind” means. Even at the disability conference at my work, they had an attempt to train people with sight what it is like to be blind. They blind folded us and walked us from the cafeteria down a hall and gave us a cane. We could use our ears and the cane to tell when hallway opened into the cafeteria. I have thought of this as traditional blindness ever since, but I think it misses other types of sensory interruptions which lead to effective blindness.

My first attempt to describe my sight interruption was years ago when I was trying to relate some of the humor that I find necessary to live with MS:

This is from my first Christmas with MS where I got together three presents to wrap, tape and paper.

First present: put present down, cut paper, fold paper, tape – tada! One down two to go.
Second present: put present down, cut paper, fold paper, ummmm where is the tape? I have not stood up. It must be within arms reach.

Why the heck can’t I remember where I put the tape or see it…a 5 min curse fest ensues until boredom with repeating the same curses allows me to realize there was more tape. So I go and grab another roll to finish. Tada! Two down.

Third present: put present down, cut paper, fold paper, ummmm where is the tape? Seriously? I cannot remember where the heck I put it. Thankfully, this time boredom hits faster so after only 2 minutes I remember there was more tape. Tada all done.

I saw the tape neatly stacked one on top of the other only the next morning, but for the night I just had a block. I could not see the tape.

http://thelifewelllived.net/2012/03/01/ms-humor/

This inability to recognize what my eyes saw as tape rendered me blind to it. I could still see colors and movement. I have little doubt I would have been able to read an eye chart as well as ever, but I could not “see” the tape. Sadly, this disturbance seems ever more common of late. My wife has pretty much given up on sending me to go find something that I know only by her description. “Go get the razor lubricant from under the bathroom sink” was the latest frustration. Looking under the sink, I saw the extra razors, shaving cream, cleaning supplies, etc. I could not find for what she sent me, and I suspect thirty minutes would not have helped. When I encounter these episodes, the only way I have found to work around them is systematic search involving physically moving everything until I am holding the object of my search. It is a method that works but takes a long time, especially if one counts cleanup time. The irony is I believe our youngest, K, has a brain doing the opposite of mine.

Where my mind takes in the stimuli but fails to interpret it properly, hers seems to do an exceptional job interpreting the limited stimuli her eyes receive. Where I cannot find something in a drawer, she can pick out classmates from photos, see the ground to navigate running, and even find toys amongst rubble of thrown objects in a basement. Her mind has adapted well to the point where people who do not know us cannot believe she has problems seeing. Her blindness is probably matched more closely by the cafeteria/hall demonstration at my work, but her ability to interpret limited sensory inputs gives her a huge edge over our bumbling with a cane.

Therefore, as we attempt to describe our symptoms, whether it is recognition issues, traditional blindness, headaches, spasticity, or any of a myriad of other MS symptoms we should realize the problems with the imprecise language we have at our disposal. Often what we think is obvious may miss the tiny bit of information which would convey truly our experiences, and others who have not gone through the same thing may find themselves with only an idea formed watching from afar, across the chasm between Sickville and Wellville.

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