Next week, I start a Phase 1 clinical trial that will hopefully prime my natural killer cells to eliminate cancer cells. I’ll receive daily injections of the study drug, Monday through Friday for two weeks, followed by two weeks off before the next cycle begins. For the first two days, it’s an all-day commitment so the team can monitor me for safety.
Normally, the FDA requires participants in a study like this to stay on-site. However, they’ve granted a waiver for anyone living within a 60-minute drive, provided a caregiver accompanies the patient daily for the first two weeks. Since we’re just an 8-minute bike ride from the university’s clinical research unit, I’ll be able to sleep at home, though we’ll probably drive on that first long day.
Because this is an early-stage trial, I’ll be only the third patient to receive the drug. I’m not anticipating serious side effects; at most, I expect to feel a bit punk, as though I’m coming down with a cold.
Thinking about volunteering for research brought to mind Britain’s famous Common Cold Unit, which operated from 1946 to 1990.
Britain’s Common Cold Unit
Growing up in the UK, I was well aware of this unique facility where volunteers signed up specifically to catch a cold. Perhaps I had seen advertisements like this:
With the exception of the possibility of being infected with the common cold or the ‘flu, it looked rather jolly.
Tennis was never my thing, but the literature also emphasized hiking the nearby rural trails. Having a cold liquid dripped into my nose, as shown in this newsreel, wasn’t so appealing:
While they never found a single cure for the cold, they produced a lot of science. For example, they discovered and isolated the first human coronavirus in 1965, and tested interferons to stimulate the body’s defenses against cold viruses. The foundational science built there paved the way for modern medicine, including treatments that harness or modulate the body’s own immune system.
Next week, I hope to benefit from those very stepping stones.