Genetically Modified "Serial Killer" T Cells Obliterate Tumors in Patients with Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia

This is so amazing!

“Within three weeks, the tumors had been blown away, in a way that was much more violent than we ever expected,” said senior author Carl June, MD, director of Translational Research and a professor of Pathology and Laboratory Medicine in the Abramson Cancer Center, who led the work. “It worked much better than we thought it would.”

After removing the patients’ cells, the team reprogrammed them to attack tumor cells by genetically modifying them using a lentivirus vector. The vector encodes an antibody-like protein, called a chimeric antigen receptor (CAR), which is expressed on the surface of the T cells and designed to bind to a protein called CD19.

Once the T cells start expressing the CAR, they focus all of their killing activity on cells that express CD19, which includes CLL tumor cells and normal B cells. All of the other cells in the patient that do not express CD19 are ignored by the modified T cells, which limits side effects typically experienced during standard therapies.The team engineered a signaling molecule into the part of the CAR that resides inside the cell. When it binds to CD19, initiating the cancer-cell death, it also tells the cell to produce cytokines that trigger other T cells to multiply building a bigger and bigger army until all the target cells in the tumor are destroyed.

Moving forward, the team plans to test the same CD19 CAR construct in patients with other types of CD19-positive tumors, including non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma and acute lymphocytic leukemia. They also plan to study the approach in pediatric leukemia patients who have failed standard therapy. Additionally, the team has engineered a CAR vector that binds to mesothelin, a protein expressed on the surface of mesothelioma cancer cells, as well as on ovarian and pancreatic cancer cells.

The work was supported by the Alliance for Cancer Gene Therapy…and the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

Our Lymphomathon donations were absolutely a part of this break-through. Hooray!

Living the Dream

Student Doctor, Brendan Klein

1 down, 1 to go

I took the picture early this morning, as Brendan was trying to get out the door. It is his first day of medical school. He talked about how nervous he was, and doubled checked his clothing choices with Dad and I before he left.

Dad met us in Parker on Saturday, after Brendan and I had spent two days crammed in his truck, dragging a U-Haul halfway across the country. The rest of the weekend flew by, and suddenly I was hugging Brendan for the last time in what will most likely be 4 months.

"This is it for the 3 amigos", Dad said last night over sushi. I thought that was funny - I never would have thought of us that way.

Also, I think that makes me Martin Short...

Lymphomathon 2011

I re-launched team Walking 'phoma Brother in this year's 5k Lymphomathon on August 14th at Montrose Harbor (same Bat-time, same Bat-channel).

Brendan and I are both unable to attend the walk this year - but if you and someone you love (or even someone you just sort of like) would like to have an excuse to take a sunny, lake-side walk the 2nd Sunday in August, then I have your excuse right here. You're more than welcome to walk under our name - it would be an honor.

The team page is RIGHT HERE, and most of you know the drill. There is a link on the top of the page that says "join our team" - just click it. You can sign up to walk with no donation required. You can also sign up with zero intention to walk, but overflowing intention to support the cause.

The only thing I ask is some time later that night, you Skype/Google+/GChat/iChat/email me in Grenada and tell me how it went.

Road Trip To The Future 2011: a must-see list

On July 22, a trailer and the back of his truck will be packed up (mostly with beef jerky, lets be serious). Brendan and I will leave Chicago in the early morning en route to Parker, Colorado. We are doing the trip in two days, (seeing some really educational, important, and historically valid landmarks along the way) hoping to land in Parker some time Saturday afternoon intercepting Dad and a new mountain condo worth of furniture.
Dad and I will fly back on Monday, and turn our attention to my impending trip on August 7th.

The excitement is palpable.

With apologies to those who've felt uninformed...

In March, Dad took his children on an amazing trip to Big Sky Montana. [For those of you who ski Colorado - stop. Stop and start skiing Big Sky right away.]
We arrived at Big Sky at the same time as the IEEE Aerospace Conference was taking place in order to catch Dad's best friend, college roommate, closer to us than most family members, and resident genius, Howard on the mountain at the same time we were looking for our own ski adventure. It was the first time Brendan and I had seen him in years. It was a greatly anticipated reunion. We had the time of our lives [photo set here].
Brendan had his first post-treatment checkup in April. The only concern he had going in to it was the fact that the beard he had managed to grow immediately after treatment refused to resurface after it had been shaved off just once. Dr. Rose ran some tests on his testosterone levels, and they came back within the normal range. The lowest possible within the normal, but still within normal. So he just has to wait it out.
Wait out an increase in masculinity. (ha!)
Brendan made a "deal with science" that if the beard grows back he will never shave it off again.

On April 10th, Dad and I ran the Shamrock Shuffle here in the city. Brendan was originally going to run it with me, but he had scheduled a trip out to Scotland (and Amsterdam!) to spend time with Heather, and so Dad decided to take his place. I wore my Lymphomathon shirt and dad was wearing the Walking ‘phoma Brother shirt we had made for Light The Night. It was an uncharacteristically warm day for early April in Chicago - around 80 degrees lakeside. Dad and I ran the 8K in a defiant 50 minutes - at which point he less than defiantly collapsed from dehydration at the finish line, terrifying his daughter, and sending the Shuffle medics in to work mode.
When he finally emerged from the first aid tent and we started talking about what had happened to him in that last mile he said to me “my calf was killing me, I couldn’t keep up with you, but...I’m wearing Brendan’s shirt and I all knew was - I have to keep going. I have to keep going.”

My parents are losing both of their children come August. We've both been accepted to medical schools - Brendan in Parker, Colorado and myself in St. Georges, Grenada.
So from here on out we are just spending time together, stressing over the little things you stress about when you are about to move out of state for the next 4 years.
Because of those moves we are unable to walk in the 2 aforementioned events this summer/fall. The links are above though - and they are still extremely worthy causes if you're looking for one.
2 out of 2 Klein doctors recommend them.

I don't think people change, I think people's capacity to be selfless in interpersonal relationships changes.
An acquired finesse that makes love possible.
My parents and my brother and I are the same people we were before this happened, the same people we were 20 years ago - we are just better at being those people to one another.
More refined.
More wisdom through experience.
Lymphoma was undoubtedly the worst thing that has ever happened to my brother, and I would never wish it on anyone, or any family. I would never wish him to go through it again. But, I'm not sorry that he did, and none of us look back on it with the anger and fear we had felt while it was happening. It's made us better.
It's made us better to each other.

ifya feeling a little extra generous at the checkout this month...

This month, Dominick's is joining The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society in creating a world without cancer. From February 13th through the 27th, stop by any Dominick's in the Chicagoland area and purchase a Light The Night paper balloon for $1 or more. Your support will make a difference to those touched by cancer right here in Illinois.

What matters most is how well you walk through the fire

We finally found the sled, buried among the hoarder-esque collection of crap that dad keeps in the garage. Old desk chairs, ancient stuffed animals, miniature soccer goals that are definitely not functional. We had to cut it free, climbing up two ladders and severing the pull rope with a pair of shears, but we finally pulled it down. After all, it is a snow day.

The light blue, plastic, and cracked sled has TODD in bold black letters sloppily written on it. Neither of us know anyone named Todd, and don't know how we acquired this sled.

This picture looks like some secret paparazzi shot of the two of us, getting ready to ride down the hill tandem on TODD. I, in my bear hat, and Brendan with a beard - we rode like the wind, Brendan's boots kicking snow up in to my face. When we got to the bottom Brendan tipped TODD over and we rolled in the snow. Then tackled me when I finally stood up.
Comedian.

I haven't really had the words to compliment the ending of treatment, and I still don't. I cannot adequately express the sense of happiness and of relief and of unity and adoration and respect and lingering fear and pride. I am hesitant to relax. Overflowing with love. Hesitant to feel out of the woods.

But in reality, he did it.
This was how we walked through the fire.

My little brother had cancer, and my little brother conquered it.

the last day

Today was the final day of radiation.
The final day of cancer treatment.

!

Brendan was just accepted to medical school.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shuffle!

Brendan and I are registered to run on Sunday, April 10th 2011 in the BOA Shamrock Shuffle.
We plan on working with Team In Training, and using team Walking 'phoma Brother (if we accumulate enough people) to turn heads, raise awareness, and maybe a little bit of money for blood cancer. We should also probably change the name to Running/Racing/Jogging/Getting a cramp and walking/Shamrock Shuffling 'phoma Brother...

You can run with us! [it's only 8k - 5 miles]

...and there was much rejoicing

The largest and darkest spot on this PET scan image is Brendan's heart. The vast majority of the remaining black that is visible here, above his ticker, is cancer. This was one of the scans taken of him in July - right when he was diagnosed with The Hodge.
So there it is.
There it is.
Although all of that black mass in his chest and in his throat has gone, his body is still littered with the scars to remind him that it was all once there.
The port came out yesterday (and there was much rejoicing) in a process that Brendan described, with sparkling eyes and a huge grin, as butchering meat.
[side bar: here is what it looks like while it is in place]
What the embedded images don't show you, is that the bottom of the port has hooks - so that it stays nicely in place. The de-porting process was less of an ordeal the it's implant, and it was a "simple" in office procedure that Dr. Boffa performed with the assistance of some Lidocaine.
The hooks put up a bit of a fight. Dr. Boffa denied Brendan's request to video tape the process with his iPhone, but Brendan said he felt nothing but slight pressure throughout. Even when Dr. Boffa was chopping and pulling and tearing and roughly cutting at his chest to remove the stubborn port, Brendan said he just laughed and told Dr. Boffa he should install a mirror on the ceiling so that he could watch.
There was a lot of blood.
My brother wasn't phased.

A few stitches later, Brendan is foreign body-less and needs to restrict his heavy lifting for awhile.

He has an interview on Friday for a medical school in Colorado.
I've got one on Saturday for a school in Oregon.

Radiation happens, but it's not anywhere near the ordeal that chemotherapy was. Brendan's hair is growing back thick and fast, he looks like his old self again. He acts like his old self again, if only a little stronger and wiser. We are our old selves again - a little closer, and a lot more enamored with our hero.

The BOA Shamrock Shuffle is coming in April, and I may call on team Walking 'phoma Brother to make an appearance - Team In Training will be running, so we can either join them, be completely independent, or form a TNT satellite team. Seems like a good idea to me - it's only 8K (5 miles).

I know Brendan will run it with me.
The only thing that worries me now, is that he will leave me in his dust.