Back in October, 2007 and again in June, 2009, I reported on the research success of an idiopathic vaccine treatment for indolent NHL called BiovaxID. I’ve been following the progress of this research with particular interest ever since, because I was briefly considered for a clinical trial of it when I was first diagnosed. While that clinical trial proved not to be an option for me (after I was diagnosed with an aggressive from of NHL, besides the indolent form the researchers were targeting), it’s one of the newer treatments that continues to hold promise. By the time my indolent NHL-dragon awakes from slumber and again rears its ugly head, BiovaxID will likely be one of the arrows in the quiver.
A current financial news article reports that BiovaxID is just about ready for prime time. Biovest, the company that holds the patent, has just formally petitioned the FDA for regulatory approval.
The wheels of government bureaucracy grind exceeding slow, but this is progress, all the same.
It’s a little odd to read about it in an internet investors’ newsletter called Market Watch. Articles like this one are meant to help aspiring venture capitalists see what's coming from afar, so they can decide whether shares of Biovest’s stock are an attractive place to park some of their simoleons.
In the world of Big Pharma, though, that’s the way it works. It’s not just altruism that keeps those researchers peering into their microscopes and hovering their eyedroppers over petri dishes. If you can “build a better mousetrap” by curing or pushing back some dread disease, the investment world will beat the proverbial path to your door. That means some big, fat paychecks for the people in the lab coats, and even fatter ones for those risk-taking financiers who advanced them the money to do what they do best.
BiovaxID is the ultimate designer drug, in that it’s custom-manufactured for each patient. Starting with some biopsied tissue, the drug company goes back to the lab and cultures a special version of the drug that will be most effective for that person’s body chemistry.
This feature of the treatment stretches the meaning of the word “drug.” You’ll never be able to amble down to your local pharmacy and pick up a childproof bottle of the stuff. Each person’s formula is one-of-a-kind.
What BiovaxID will eventually cost, I have no idea. It sure won’t be cheap. It is to ordinary drugs as a Saville Row bespoke tailor is to K-Mart.
Whatever it takes to get the researchers as far down the road as they’ve gone on this one, I’m glad they have.
Another reason for hope!
Since my December 2, 2005 Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma diagnosis, I've been on a slow-motion journey of survivorship. Chemo wiped out my aggressive disease in May, 2006, but an indolent variety is still lurking. I had my thyroid removed due to papillary thyroid cancer in 2011, and was diagnosed with recurrent thyroid cancer in 2017. Join me for a survivor's reflections on life, death, faith, politics, the Bible and everything else. DISCLAIMER: I’m not a doctor, so don't look here for medical advice.
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2 comments:
Great stuff, love to read your blog. :)
STILL SAYING PRAY FOR YOU EVERY NIGHT.
A GRANNY FROM FLORIDA.
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