Early diagnosis – shame about the politics

Some people might suggest that its unfair to say this but the timing of the NHS England announcement of a cancer early diagnosis initiative, while welcome, has all the markings of being politically driven.

In 2007 the Cancer Reform Strategy announced NAEDI – the National Awareness and Early Diagnosis Initiative. After the change of government the group kept meeting, Cancer Research UK kept putting up funding for research into practical issues and Macmillan did its best to make people aware of the importance of early diagnosis.

The new government picked off some headlines but otherwise did nothing for over four years.

Now its election time again and guess what – new money, new priorities, new targets. This time though the government has nothing to do with it. Of course its all in the hands of the (quasi)-autonomous NHS England. Who are they kidding?

However it is very welcome.

One person deserves the greatest credit that we can give for getting it this far. Harpal Kumar is the CEO of Cancer Research UK. His personal commitment to creating change on this issue is undoubted. It dates from 2007 when Prof Sir Mike Richards asked him to chair NAEDI and he has seen it through to today. He continues in charge, it is in safe hands, things will happen.

Thank you Harpal.

Cancer Drugs Fund – inevitable signal for wider change

If I remember correctly the Cancer Drugs Fund was set up at the same time as the Government announced it was to establish a value-added base to NICE drug appraisal which could support and reward innovation. NICE was left to consult on it, which it diligently did. However it became apparent that without an agreed definition of ‘value’ and without agreed means and methods of measuring and quantifying ‘value’ this was a fruitless task. The current Secretary of State has made no comment on this issue and his dis-interest in value/pricing has left the Cancer Drugs Fund exposed in an unsustainable way that means that the Government just has to keep putting more money in.

The re-working of the Cancer Drugs Fund, now underway, is long overdue. Professor Peter Clark, the well respected oncologist who chairs it, has been left with the difficult task. One can argue that he has been left with the problem when the politicians who created the fund, and NHS England, which now owns it, don’t want that profile. Sadly for him, I don’t know of anyone better equipped for the task. He is, however, going to field a lot of criticism and it is going to echo into the l;eval system and the political arena.

The Fund was set up to ensure that people with a rarer cancer got an equal chance at new technology drugs as those with more common cancers. It was also aimed at treatment which had been refused NICE approval. Among rare cancers are drugs which have applicability to 50 or 60 patients a year and which are never going to be appraised by NICE because the cost of doing so is unreasonable. These should get funded. At the other end of the scale it is questionable whether a drug which NICE has rejected on the grounds of cost effectiveness should receive funding. However such drugs quite often already have an applicability outside the strict indication for which they were appraised by NICE. It is a factor of timing as much as anything else and these new indications can carry a badge of rarity because they are off the standard track of treatment.

The CDF budget has inevitably burgeoned and the focus on drugs is also threatening to distort the evolving balance of treatment opportunity as new technologies in radiotherapy and new therapy methods employing techniques such as sound and light, appear.

The review was inevitable, the squeaks of complaint from pharmaceutical companies are inevitable and the protest of patient groups is inevitable.

What is the answer?

There is no easy answer but if we look at the longer term history, which provides the context for the CDF, we can perhaps see a way through. The answer is in NICE which has consistently failed to recognise cancer as anything different from other disease/treatments areas. It uses a generic means of assessing the quality of benefit achieved by a treatment in isolation from the whole patient context in which that treatment takes place. Its former chairman, Professor Sir Michael Rawlins, instructed committee chairs to be ready to use their judgement. However the whole NICE appraisal process is quite rigorously focussed on the new drug and its immediate treatment purpose, not the value a drug can offer in the widest patient sense. The cost per QALY* benchmark has not altered in 18 years, not even to reflect inflation, and bandages put over the process such as “end of life” criteria are just that, bandages.

Peter Clark and his team are not trying to be another NICE but they are trying to identify criteria which allow them, openly, to refuse funding for a drug which offers little or no value. Let us hope they don’t try to evaluate drugs for rare cancers with the same sriteria as those for common cancers.

Rather than wingeing the pharmaceutical industry should be taking steps to illustrate indisputable value in their new agents. The current clinical trials model which industry (and to be fair regulators too) are wedded to does not do that. It’s a broken system. The patient community is not short of ideas on how to change things. The medical oncology community is also beginning to question the endless ‘me too’ drugs, treating yet another tumour pathway and offering another month of life with yet more side effects but only in common cancers of course**. Schemes like Cancer Research UK’s Stratified Medicine programme are welcome developments which will help change the shape of treatment and of drug regulation. Bring ‘em on.

 

*Quality Adjusted Life Year – a statistically derived measure of patient benefit built on factors which are so opaque you need a degree in Health Economics to argue them.

**Because that’s where you get the quickest payback.

Love, morphine and whisky

Dr Richard Smith, the former editor of BMJ, raised a storm last week with his blog about dying. He drew broad comparisons between different pathways to death and made the statement that death from cancer can be more acceptable than a death from a lingering disease like dementia.

Maybe his wording was a bit careless and he has acknowledged that in his latest addition to the blog. He certainly attracted a large number of reactions to what he said. Most were highly critical, going way beyond the point of understanding what he was actually saying. There were intensely personal and very painful stories of death from cancer, focussing on an individual, usually in the family of the writer.

Richard was addressing an important issue – we all have to die of something. This is not something that is part of general conversation and culturally it is a topic avoided like the plague. Sudden death, or peaceful death in ones sleep, are the preferred pathways when people do talk about it. Sudden death leaves goodbyes unsaid. Dementia leaves goodbyes behind hanging meaningless in the air. Dying of cancer gives us some time, occasionally it is not very much time, to get things into order, to make our peace with everyone who matters to us, and to accept the inevitable. I liked his line about love morphine and whisky. I am still trying to decide which whisky !

We need to look at whole contexts. Science is currently driving us down a route to scavenging a few weeks and months of life at a high cost in the ambition, maybe hopeless but we don’t know that, that along the way the magic cure to cancer will be found. One of his points was that the more we spend on cancer research the more likely it is that more people will die of dementia. That is the worst death on his list of pathways to dying.

There are no easy answers, there may be no answers at all. What Richard Smith has done is, hopefully, to open the debate up a bit wider than it has been. The list of doctors doing that is growing, now we need the patients and carers clamouring to add to that debate, not with emotion, but with a considered view recognising realities, however harsh they may be.

The rod and staff

Being diagnosed with a potentially terminal illness is a shock. Education does not prepare us and culturally it is not a conversation topic. The message can come when you least expect it, sometimes at an age when lifestyle changes are bringing a whole new vista of life’s opportunity into focus.

This situation is a huge challenge over and above the physical demands which come with treatment, or with deteriorating health. This is the valley of the shadow of death, so poetically defined by the writer of the 23rd Psalm – the poem of praise and of comfort made more familiar by the much-loved hymn ‘The Lord is my Shepherd’.

Psalm 23 has a particular resonance as a focus for mindfulness and meditation. You find words of comfort that go far deeper than you might expect. There is a call to your spirit which is conjured up by the images the writer’s words describe. Familiar pictures offer themselves to those who are distressed and upset, firstly as reassurance and then as spiritual comfort.

Increasingly healthcare professionals recognise that physical and spiritual co-exist and comfort can be gained from words. By reaching out to your mind the spiritual can be brought into play. This is not a new idea but it is not always one we think of first when health problems arise. In cancer care the value of spiritual wellbeing has long been recognised though how to support it remains a question.

The psalm assumes our natural goodness. Just reaching out to the shepherd is enough to start the process of healing and help.  There is just the one condition. You can only get help by reaching out to the shepherd with your heart and in your mind. This opens the way to the comforts of green pastures, still waters and the support from the rod and staff. It translates into spiritual strength.

But this is no shepherd carrying a brand or badge which denotes a specific religion. This is the spiritual shepherd of all mankind. The route by which the shepherd is reached can be religious but it can also be a route travelled alone, even in anxiety and fear. There is the certainty in the Psalm “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
 I will fear no evil;
 for You are with me”.

Patients need the integration of Palliative Care and Oncology

At a recent CTOS conference one of the elder statesmen of medical oncology, Dr Bob Benjamin (MD Anderson), came out with a very perceptive comment. Summarising a number of presentations, he suggested that European oncologists treated patients with advanced disease with palliative intent.

“My intent is always curative,” he said, “its just that I am not very successful.”

His use of the word ‘success’ highlights an issue. Is success only about cure? I believe it is important to see success in treating a patient, and cure, as distinct and separate.

An underlying agenda is our reluctance to discuss death and dying. I have lived with advanced cancer for 15 years. The measures taken to control each recurrence have been radical and have been undertaken with curative intent. That has not stopped my mind working hard on the issue of dying, and how I would handle a diagnosis of irrevocably terminal disease. That’s a lot of quite hard thinking. You could argue that my long survival means that I am not representative of the ‘average’ patient. I would merely say that you get what you can from each patient’s experience and I hope that my view has the potential to open up new awareness of what clinical ‘success’ might mean.

I believe the position is simple. Every cancer patient wishes to live a long life but they also want to have a high quality of life, free of pain and other symptoms, and also free from any life-style limiting side-effects of treatment.

As far as the patient is concerned treatment for cancer is not just about the outcome, it’s about the journey. Looking at cancer treatment pathways it is clear that the key to the best outcome is two-fold:

  • Early and accurate diagnosis
  • Followed by primary interventions delivered by specialists

If we then look at outcomes we find that about 50% of patients survive 5 years. The majority of these are cured, if we define cure as the fact that they eventually die of something else.

Most cancer treatment is about extending life. Even for those who will in time be cured it starts with follow-up but for about half of us it evolves into a battle to deliver a cure. Treatment is given with curative intent and patients maintain that belief even when the truth is that it is palliative and the longer it goes on the more obvious that is. Looked at this way oncology faces a challenge. It can be accused of over-medicalising dying, with patients seemingly willing but usually ignorant collaborators.

We have to move on. Palliative care has been rapidly developing and we have to find ways to integrate that knowledge clinically and implement it with patients who are on a pathway to end-of-life, even if that term will only apply years in the future.

But the social and scientific world in which we are working is broken. The patient community is encouraged to believe it has a right to the latest treatment, somehow, and of course the pharmaceutical industry is not going to discourage that.

Current research practice focuses on Clinical Trials whose barely concealed objective is to create demand for drugs at the end of life. They deliver marginal benefit to patients, often with substantial side-effects and at a high cost. In the confusing but important politics of pricing interventions like the Cancer Drugs Fund actually encourage higher pricing from pharmaceutical companies. The CDF was due to disappear when value-based pricing was introduced in 2014. But that dream has vaporised. What a shambles.

What we need to do is to pivot this debate on the patient. The debate must be about each individual, decisions for the individual made by the individual. In cancer the tipping point is the one where the oncologist knows that the disease is unlikely to be beaten. This is the point by which a proper program of supportive and palliative care must already be in place. Patients have a right to a rounded understanding of quality of life so they can take a personalised approach to the treatments which will be offered and make decisions which are right for them.

Four years ago a study in lung cancer was published by Dr Jennifer Temel. A group of patients was randomised to receive either early palliative care with standard oncology care, or standard oncology care alone. The outcome was that not only did the patients receiving the palliative programme have a higher quality of life but they used fewer drugs and lived longer too. Currently the study is being replicated. It is of course not surprising to discover that no pharma company has tried to replicate this study and compare the value of its new drugs with a properly constructed palliative care programme but that is what we need.

Our ambition should be to reach the point where each patient can make considered decisions of their own about treatment, supported by good information, and expert advice which does not, for whatever reasons, seek to talk-up the latest high-technology route in such a way that it is automatically preferred. I would expect many oncologists to say that this is what they try to do already and to be fair, many try hard and they do their best. A few are changing their hospital’s structures and systems, but it is a few. However I believe that a lack of independent clinical specialists focussed on the whole picture of patient benefit, is work against this happening effectively.

We do not study ‘living with cancer’ anywhere near enough and we need to. Our doctors need tools that look at ‘staying alive’ in a rounded manner. Such tools would be based on behavioural, social, and psychological markers identified through observation, questioning and self-reporting.

A philosophical friend of mine uses a simple equation: Objective + Subjective = Oneness

For him it is a description of a spiritual search. In cancer the objective view is disease-centred while the subjective is patient-centred. We should not, however, lose sight of the spiritual context. The emptiness of a biological diagnosis without a holistic assessment of the patient is something which Dr Nathan Cherny illustrates in a recent paper in JNCI (I leave you with the reference).

Small studies are appearing which support this ‘oneness’ approach. An article published earlier this year in CA: A Cancer Journal for Clinicians looked at the palliative care experience at MD Anderson. It concluded that the earlier palliative care was introduced to patients the more they benefited. There was benefit for the hospital too: fewer emergency visits, fewer hospital admissions and fewer deaths in hospital. With patients preferring to die at home or in hospice, an ambition which the NHS is not good at meeting, there must be a lesson here. At the recent NCRI Conference we were also given examples from Italy and Finland where they are making this concept work. Its not rocket science.

A key component in this approach is communication with the patient’s close family, whether that communication is direct with the cancer doctor, a specialist nurse, or some other intermediary. At the moment family communication often only happens through the patient themselves. There is good anecdotal evidence that well-informed patients can make inappropriate decisions about treatment when pressured by a less well-informed family. The truth is that we do not do communication well. It is unfair to look at it as a clinical problem best resolved by training oncologists or nurses better than we currently do. We need intermediaries acting to support the principles of ‘oneness’.

An outstanding contributor to the growing library of material has been the Harvard Professor of Surgery Atul Gawande, this year’s BBC Radio 4 Reith Lecturer. The lectures are available as podcasts. His book ‘Being Mortal’ was also recently published and is a powerful voice for change. What he describes will probably sound similar in principle to the ‘personalised medicine’ approach driven out of biology, genetic knowledge and chemical innovation. As far as patients are concerned individualised care would be a more meaningful use of the term ‘personalised medicine’ than better chemistry. Gawande proposes systematIc approaches, supported by simple ideas like checklists. People have priorities other than longevity for the end of life, he says, yet they are rarely asked about them and the actions needed can be so simple.

Refs:

N Engl J Med 2010; 363:733-742  Early Palliative Care for Patients with Metastatic Non–Small-Cell Lung Cancer.  Jennifer S. Temel, M.D., Joseph A. Greer, Ph.D., Alona Muzikansky, M.A., Emily R. Gallagher, R.N., Sonal Admane, M.B., B.S., M.P.H., Vicki A. Jackson, M.D., M.P.H., Constance M. Dahlin, A.P.N., Craig D. Blinderman, M.D., Juliet Jacobsen, M.D., William F. Pirl, M.D., M.P.H., J. Andrew Billings, M.D., and Thomas J. Lynch, M.D.

 JNCI DOI:10.1093/jnci/dju321  Words Matter: Distinguishing “Personalized Medicine” and “Biologically Personalized Therapeutics”.  Nathan I. Cherny, Elisabeth G. E. de Vries, Linda Emanuel, Lesley Fallowfield, Prudence A. Francis, Alberto Gabizon, Martine J. Piccart, David Sidransky, Lior Soussan-Gutman, Chariklia Tziraki

 CA: A Cancer Journal for Clinicians, 64: 223–224. 2014.  Early outpatient referral to palliative care services improves end-of-life care.  Barton, M. K.

This is an abbreviated and slightly updated version of a talk given at the National Cancer Research Institute Conference in November 2014.

 

 

Reviewing the Evidence

A great part of our life is governed by evidence – we look and listen for evidence of danger when starting to cross the road. In particular areas such as health care, evidence tells us what has benefited patients and what has not.

Can we take an evidence-based approach when we consider religion? Many people would say that the evidence for God is in the Bible. But is the Bible really evidence? It is after all a lot of anecdotes quite often without any cross-references which might help confirm what is put forward as fact. For some this may be enough but the decline of church attendance suggests that for many it is not. The standards which one would apply to assessing the Bible as evidence would be completely inapplicable if we were looking at healthcare. In healthcare there need to be undeniable facts supported by measurable data. So is there a better way to go about looking for evidence which supports the exercise of faith?

Those with a strong faith may be horrified by taking a modern approach allied to science to this question. Is such an approach appropriate? I think it is. It is perhaps surprising to find that there are many scientists who have a faith. It isn’t rooted in their science. It is rooted more than anything in their understanding of life, and their awareness that there is something deep in humanity which cannot be readily explained.

It is not about language, family or society. It is not measurable. It is a different kind of evidence. Some would identify it as the core of our humanity. It is about the spiritual love of human kind which we all know about. Something taught by Jesus and all the great prophets of religion. It is something which takes you into the deeper connections of humanity.

This brings science and faith together in love. It is personally spiritual and intellectually mysterious. It is also quite exciting. Acceptance of this is a process which is both emotional and scientific. The evidence is personal, unique to each of us. Once understood like this it is with us everyday in everything we do; the eternal mystery of unconstrained love, striking the chords which are the music of faith.

First published in Stretton Focus, November 2014

Drug approvals and age discrimination

Cancerworld recently published a debate between Professor Karol Sikora and Dr Ulrich Wedding on using age as a criterion of regulatory decisions on funding new drugs.

The push to use age as a determining factor in drug funding permissions is blatantly discriminatory. There are better methods and measures for discerning eligibility, if only someone researched them properly. The pharma industry is not interested in this research. Its business model (which determines its approach to pricing) is encouraged by the current inadequacy of HTA and political decisions such as England’s Cancer Drugs Fund. Indeed the latter encourages higher prices.

When the current UK government came to power in 2010 they vowed that by 2014 we would have a value-based approach to funding decisions. Its nearly 2015 and there is no sign of it but as there was no research into how value could be defined let alone measured, its no wonder we are back to simplistic thinking about age.

The core issues here are about the holistic treatment of a patient. Just looking at the disease (albeit hosted by a person) does not take into account the needs of the whole person. This debate should be about integrating supportive care into oncology practice, about losing the barriers between palliative care and oncology, about educating patients on the balance between cure and end-of-life care so that when disease is truly incurable patients make rational decisions themselves. Another cycle of chemo given to a dying patient is immoral.

Living and dying have to become palatable points for discussion. This will deliver benefits for individuals and society and could well cut drug costs. While politicians, healthcare administrators, academics and doctors are the main voices on this issue simplistic inward-looking solutions will result. Get patients involved, introduce some earthy common sense.