Navigating Hope and A New Medication

The results thus far have been hugely promising as many trial recipients have seen an increase in lung capacity, decreased mucus production and lung infections, and in many cases it has drastically improved overall quality of life. All of that, however, is not a guarantee that it will have the same effects for everyone and it also doesn’t mean all our bodies will be able to tolerate it. We each have to do our best to determine if and how it can benefit us. 

If you haven’t heard, Trikafta, aka The Triple Combo, was approved by the FDA last Monday (October 21, 2019). This is a breakthrough medication that directly targets one of the main Cystic Fibrosis genes. Those of us who have at least one copy of the Delta F508 mutation, which is about 90% of the CF population, will be eligible to try it. 

To someone not stuck in a loop of sickness, recovery and managing symptoms, it can seem like the math is easy: Sick + new treatment = better. 

But better is relative to where you are starting from and each person’s particular case. Therefore, managing expectations is a major component to this equation. 

For some of us better would the ability to make through a trip to the grocery store without having a coughing attack. Or another worthwhile improvement would be to not need supplemental oxygen, which would allow us to move about more freely without cords, tanks and looking so sick. Better could also mean less hospital admissions and/or a lessening of anxiety induced hyper-vigilance in coping with our disease progression. And some of us will hopefully find ourselves being able to return to work or school, start a family, and/or fulfill some big life goals. 

It’s important to understand however that new treatments are often packaged within language like,  Maybe, Hopefully, Possibly, and Soon. When these words are coupled with other alluring terms such as, More, Better, and Longer, the imagination can’t help but to start entertaining stories of what could be. “Maybe” the new drug could help me feel “better.” “Hopefully” it will enable me to do “more.” “Maybe” it could “possibly” even allow me to put off transplant “longer,” or at least add some years to my life. When can I get my hands on this drug? Soon. When could I start to see results? Also soon.

ebcee8If you’ll notice, nothing that I just said painted an exact picture of anything. Like a good PR campaign, all the words are subjective, abstract, and opaque. At the most they give us permission to move our imagination toward positive outcomes rather than negative ones. Ultimately though, these words act as more of a Rorschach test than as a definitive picture of one’s future life. Because, just like a Rorschach, we each see what we want to see. It doesn’t describe anything of physical substance beyond our own subconscious biases.

We cannot know if or what Trikafta will allow us to do prior to starting it. All of us, no matter our health, have to learn to navigate hope and statistics with fear and opening ourselves up to possible disappointment. The small number of cases that don’t respond to the treatment, have horrible side effects, or that absolutely cannot take it, is part of the math that we have to do. Are we willing to risk hope, and our bodies for an unknown better? 

For many of us the answer is an unequivocal YES. But it’s personal. We all have our own path to walk with this disease. Therefore if you are someone supporting a person with CF who can take Trikafta, please don’t just hope for better and only ask, “is it working?” Instead, step back and ask about how they are holding hope and what they hope better can mean for them. Give them space to tell you all the ways this news is exciting, frustrating, scary and/or guilt inducing. This medication, like all the ones before and after it, is not a beginning or end, but rather part of their journey. We can’t let our imaginations distract us from staying current to what is happening in real time, today, in our bodies, hearts and emotions as we decide to say yes, again, to hope.