Symptoms & Needs

Support for post-treatment symptoms and needs (emotional, physical, functional, financial)

The Script of My Podcast Episode with “In Rare Company”

I was not able to record my podcast episode for In Rare Company, because this topic is urgent and my voice and energy are too limited due to my illness at the moment. I wrote the script below and a trusted voice will bring it to life on my behalf.



Can you tell us about your diagnosis?

What do you think is important for people to know or understand about your condition? What’s the biggest misconception? How has your condition impacted your family?

I have a form of primary mitochondrial disease called primary mitochondrial myopathy. This affects the mitochondria—our cells’ energy producers—and leads to progressive, multisystem symptoms: muscle weakness, autonomic dysfunction, breathing problems, fatiguability, and more, double vision.

I use a power wheelchair and a ventilator, but much of my disability is invisible. People don’t see e.g. the decreased stamina, swallowing problems, bowel and bladder dysfunction, or the sheer effort it takes to stay upright.

One of the biggest misconceptions is that mitochondrial disease is just about being tired—or that it only affects children. In reality, it can strike at any age and it touches every part of life.

My family has been deeply impacted. My college-aged son grew up with a mom whose body couldn’t always keep up, and my husband now also serves as my caregiver. But we’ve built a life anchored in connection, creativity, and resilience—shaped around what I can still do.


What has been your journey with elamipretide?

How long have you been on it? How did you find out about it and start treatment?

Shortly after my diagnosis, my doctor recommended enrollment in the third, expanded access arm of an elamipretide trial. Ethically, my doctor told me that I was too ill to risk being randomized to placebo. I started daily subcutaneous injections at home and have now been on the drug for over three years.

It took a few months to notice changes, but they were real and meaningful. 


What was your health like before starting elamipretide?

How do I begin. The story is obviously more protracted than this. But in short: I was steadily declining over 10+ years. 

I pushed myself to keep working, eventually with accommodations, but everything else—relationships, basic functioning, even my health—fell apart. For years, I didn’t know why. I chalked it up to stress or deconditioning or my other conditions.

I needed more and more help with daily tasks. My stamina was declining constantly. Very slowly in the beginning, but in the end rapidly, when I even had trouble turning around in bed. Losing my voice forced me to stop working abruptly. As a last-ditch effort, I saw a rare disease specialist, who diagnosed me with primary mitochondrial disease. It was a huge relief—not because I wanted to be sick, but because I finally had an explanation. I wasn’t crazy. I could be believed. And I could access disability and treatment.


Can you describe the physical experience of being on elamipretide?

The improvements are subtle—but hugely meaningful. My body simply started failing or crashing less often. I could sit upright longer. Breathe more easily. I could regain some independence. 

These changes built gradually. And the effect is short-lasting. When I had to stop treatment for just a week, the decline was immediate. Restarting helped—but it took time to recover.


What will happen if you don’t have access to elamipretide?

I don’t have Barth syndrome which is also a mitochondrial disease—but if the FDA doesn’t grant full approval for Barth syndrome with broad labeling, access to elamipretide will end for everyone. That includes me. Even though clinical trials for primary mitochondrial myopathy and other diseases are underway, it will be too late to save the company that produces it.

If I lose access, I expect a rapid decline—across nearly all bodily systems. My caregiving needs will increase drastically. I’ll lose my ability to advocate, to participate in family life, and to care for myself.

This isn’t just about not feeling well. It’s about losing the gains I’ve made and falling back into a fragile state that endangers my quality of life, safety, dignity and most of all survival.


In your opinion, why has the FDA not yet approved elamipretide?

I believe the FDA is trying to apply traditional drug review standards to a disease that doesn’t fit traditional models. Mitochondrial disease is complex, variable, and ultra-rare. Large placebo-controlled trials are often unethical or impossible.

While my KevinMD article simplified things, the whole story is more complex. 

First of all, let me tell you about the Orphan Drug Act which was designed for complex and rare situations exactly like this. And elamipretide received the orphan drug designation for Barth syndrome in 2018. This act not only provides financial and regulatory support to companies working in rare diseases. It also allows the FDA to use a more flexible framework—to consider not just strict trial endpoints, but also extension studies, natural history data comparison, real world expanded access results, case reports as well as case series, patient testimonials, and real-world outcomes. 

Now back to elamipretide’s timeline. The FDA refused to file elamipretide’s first New Drug Application (NDA) submission in 2021 due to lack of effectiveness. A second NDA that included much more of the multiple orphan drug act endpoints that I just described was submitted in January 2024 under the traditional approval pathway. The FDA’s own advisory committee voted to recommend approval in October 2024. However, in May 2025, the FDA issued a Complete Response Letter (CRL) denying elamipretide’s second NDA. Instead, the agency suggested submitting a third NDA and this time through the accelerated approval pathway. The drug company has submitted a request for reconsideration, which the FDA is expected to decide on in early Aug 2025.

This denial decision was especially unexpected given that relevant parties such as drug sponsors and the FDA typically meet regularly throughout the drug development process to align on study design, endpoints, and regulatory expectations—steps intended to increase the likelihood of a successful NDA submission when the time comes. Furthermore, in the vast majority of cases, the FDA approves a drug following a positive FDA advisory committee meeting.

This raises so many questions a few of which are: Why does the FDA recommend a third NDA? And why was an accelerated pathway not pursued for the second NDA submission?

And despite being awarded the drug priority review status, why did the FDA withheld the benefits associated with that designation, resulting in large delays and loss of continuity over time. 

No matter whether the FDA will reconsider their denial of elamipretide, this is a history-defining moment. If the FDA reconsiders and grants full approval, elamipretide will become the first approved drug for mitochondrial disease. If they don’t reconsider their denial of full approval and continue recommending a third NDA under the accelerated pathway, the consequences will be devastating for the rare disease community as a whole.

First of all, without insurance payments tied to full FDA approval, the company will not survive – they have already let go a third of their personnel. Access to elamipretide will end for those currently on it and future access will be delayed by years if not decennia, because accelerated is a misnomer since its a highly scrutinized process. Even if another larger company would be willing to take over the development of elamipretide, they would have to start over with a 3rd new drug application for elamipretide: recruit globally from an ultra-small pool of patients and navigate immense logistical and regulatory barriers. 

Secondly, this isn’t just about one drug. This decision sends a chilling message to the entire rare disease community. If the FDA keeps moving the goalposts, who in their right mind will ever take on the financial and scientific risk of developing another drug for an ultra-rare disease?

The data are convincing, the FDA advisory committee recommended approval, and the Orphan Drug Act exists for exactly rare and complex diseases like Barth syndrome. The FDA may be worried about setting precedent or broader off-label use, but the risk of doing nothing—for this patient community and for rare disease innovation—is far greater. Fully approving elamipretide with broad labeling wouldn’t just help me—it would signal that the system can work for patients like us.


What would you say to a newly diagnosed adult with mitochondrial disease?

You’re not alone. A diagnosis like this can feel isolating, especially when people don’t understand it. But there’s a community of patients, caregivers, and clinicians who walk this path.

And believe it or not, many of us felt relief when we were diagnosed. Not because we wanted to be sick—but because we finally knew we weren’t imagining it. We weren’t lazy. There was a name. And a path forward.

Give yourself time to grieve and adjust. Then build your support system—medical, emotional, and practical. You deserve care in all areas of life.

And most of all, know this: it’s okay to live slowly. To live differently. Your value isn’t in your productivity. It’s in how you show up, how you stay present, and how you continue—on your terms. Be kind to yourself. 


What gives you hope today?

The community gives me hope—who are raising their voices with courage and clarity.

The science gives me hope. We’ve come so far in understanding diseases that were once complete mysteries.

And advocacy gives me hope. When people speak out—especially together—systems do begin to shift.

And honestly, the fact that I’ve experienced real benefit from elamipretide gives me hope. That benefit is not hypothetical. It’s lived. And if it’s true for me, it could be true for others too.


How can listeners help support your advocacy or get involved?

Please share the message. Write to your lawmakers. Ask the FDA to reconsider. Use the hashtag #ApproveElamipretide. Every voice helps build momentum.

You can read and share this post and/or my story on KevinMD, and follow me at CancerSurvivorMD.org and @CancerSurvivorMD.

And if you work in healthcare, research, or policy—please don’t overlook the ultra-rare. Our numbers may be small, but our lives are not. And what we learn from rare disease can improve medicine for everyone. 

One Minute, Real Impact: Help Advocate for Elamipretide Approval

One Minute, Real Impact: Help Advocate for Elamipretide Approval

I’m writing today with an urgent request that could change lives—including mine.

The FDA is currently considering approval of a treatment called Elamipretide, which has helped stabilize key functions for people living with primary mitochondrial disease—a rare, progressive, and often devastating condition. I’ve personally benefited from this treatment, which has helped me remain more independent, contribute to my family, and avoid costlier, more intensive care.

But despite a positive recommendation from the FDA’s own advisory committee, the agency has not yet approved Elamipretide. This delay puts vital progress—and people—at risk.

If you want to understand the stakes, I’ve written more here:
👉 Read my KevinMD article

If you’re unfamiliar with terms like mitochondrial disease, orphan drug, or FDA advisory committee, I explain them briefly here:
👉 What These Terms Mean

Here’s how you can help:

➡️ Visit the FDA’s feedback page:
https://www.fda.gov/news-events/interactive-and-social-media/fda-direct-ask-question

Then follow these simple steps:
1. Under “Topic,” select “Drugs and Biologics”
2. Under “I am a,” choose the category that best describes you (e.g., Patient, Caregiver, Advocate, Concerned Citizen)
3. In the message box (250 characters), paste this message:

Please approve Elamipretide for primary mitochondrial disease. The FDA advisory committee recommended it. As an orphan drug, this treatment deserves wise and timely action. Patients can’t afford more delays. #ApproveElamipretide

Your message goes straight to the FDA. It takes less than a minute—and it matters more than you know.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Time is Running Out: Help Secure Access to Elamipretide for Ultra-Rare and Rare Diseases

Time is Running Out: Help Secure Access to Elamipretide for Ultra-Rare and Rare Diseases

A group of four individuals, including a patient in a wheelchair, smile together in a brightly colored medical office. They are discussing Elamipretide, a treatment for rare mitochondrial diseases.
Together with my amazing health care team https://www.chp.edu/our-services/rare-disease-therapy

Elamipretide, a lifeline for patients with (ultra-)rare mitochondrial diseases like Barth syndrome and primary mitochondrial myopathy, faces a critical moment. Despite years of research, lived improvements, and community advocacy, the path to approval is uncertain. The FDA will make a pivotal decision in early August. I am one of the patients currently on Elamipretide, and I know firsthand the difference it makes. We need your voice.

Please share this urgently. Post it, email it, talk about it. Please use the following hashtags BarthProgress #ApproveElamipretide #BarthSyndrome #RareDisease #FDAActNow #HopeforProgress

The window to act is closing—let’s make sure the FDA hears the real stories and sees the real lives at stake. This goes beyond Elamipretide—it’s about ensuring fair access and consideration for all treatments targeting ultra-rare and rare diseases.

We are asking the U.S. Food and Drug Administration to reconsider its denial of elamipretide and grant full, traditional approval—the first ever for primary mitochondrial disease. Doing so would honor the advisory committee’s recommendation, uphold the standard NDA pathway the FDA itself selected, and fulfill the intent of the Orphan Drug Act. We also urge the FDA to approve the drug with broad labeling, so that all appropriate patients—not just a narrow trial subset—can access a therapy that has demonstrated meaningful benefit. No more delays. No more deferrals. No more circular barriers. This is not just about one drug—it’s about whether we are willing to meaningfully advance treatment for (ultra) rare diseases at all. https://kevinmd.com/2025/07/fda-delays-could-end-vital-treatment-for-rare-disease-patients.html

Cancer Survivors Wonder “What or Who Do I Get Angry At”?

Dr. Josie’s Attempt to Look “Angry” – How Did I Do? 😊

Recently, a survivor asked me “who or what to get angry at” when we are diagnosed with cancer? And I think there is a lot encompassed in this fascinating question. It caught me off guard for a minute. I have had a few days to think about it and here is my first attempt. I welcome your views!

Is the question “who/what do we get angry with” the same question as “who/what to blame”? Blame to me refers to causality and responsbility. In general, I think no blame is to be had as there is still a lot unknown about our body, “the black box”. With the exception of some exposures that are known to increase cancer risk (e.g. asbestos, nicotine, HPV), I do not believe that blame can be assigned at current time and age.

But back to the question – “who/what do we get angry with”? To me this question refers to “where do we target our anger at”? The question implies that anger is like a “hot potato” that has to be gotten rid of as soon as possible before we “burn our fingers”. It may be acted out and projected onto targets with whom we feel safe (e.g. our loved ones) or anonymous (e.g. strangers or objects). We may spend a lot of time and energy on suppressing or numbing our anger (with exercise, alcohol etc). Many of these approaches are unhealthy, not safe, or even destructive: they may make us angry that we are angry, perpetuating our anger only more.

But what if we look at anger differently? What if we view anger as a sign that nudges us to pause and reflect on what we are dissatisfied with or what is bothering us? Anger is a normal emotion to have and represents a validated stage of the grieving process, which many cancer survivors may go through as they “try to find the new normal” in the aftermath of cancer diagnosis and therapies. 

It starts by recognizing that you are angry – this acknowledgment itself may already be cathartic, validating, and healing. Sometimes the “working through” your anger is quick and easy – but sometimes it may be more painful and challenging, requiring honest self-reflection and support from our loved ones and perhaps even a professional. All we can do is our best. 

If we think and feel our way through our anger, then our anger may become less intense or even disappear. The freed up energy can instead be redirected to unstuck ourselves and proceed to the 6th grief stage: finding meaning and purpose. Pursuing new adventures and making new memories. You are more than a (permanent) reaction to your cancer diagnosis – it does not need to define you – you can rise above it and transcend it – in your own unique way – at your time and pace. My wish is that you treat yourself the same way as you treat others…..with more compassion, kindness, respect, and forgiveness. 

Update to Explain Absence of New Blog Postings

Dear fellow traveler, it has been a while since I have last posted. And it may be a while before I resume posting again. I am on experimental therapy for a genetic degenerative disease. I remain hopeful that I will be able to resume. Until then, please follow me on social media. BIG hug to you from me!

Cookie and me!

Cancer – Saying Goodbye

Cancer – Saying Goodbye

Everyone who knows me knows that I have a really hard time saying goodbye. I am not sure why. Maybe it’s just a quirk of mine. Or maybe it’s because I have lost friends and family members due to moves (this was before the internet!) and illness. I guess that’s what makes me me.  

You may miss a person, a pet or even the ‘old’ you before cancer hit. It may last for one day or one week or one month or one year or indefinitely. The cause may be that someone is moving to a different part of the country or the world — or leaving our world. 

The loss of someone (or something) who was near and dear to you leads to grief. Grief never goes away, as you may have experienced. Over time, as you pass through the grieving stages in your own unique way and order, things may become a bit more bearable and maybe even give new meaning to your life. 

Connecting with others who have also gone through a loss may help (such as this Facebook group by David Kessler). Sharing the pain. Feeling less alone. Learning how to put words to your feelings to allow you to create your narrative. 

We all tell ourselves stories that sooth us. Our stories are defined by our personal perspective, driven by our culture and religion and upbringing. Only you can write your story, which you may refine or even rewrite as you get older and gain new insights. 

No one knows for sure what happens to our loved ones after they pass and so no one can refute your version. 

I believe that we will see each other again — in the afterlife, but even in our current lifetime, which might be evidenced by, if you are open to them, certain signs that hint that your loved one is signaling you. There are more concrete ways to see our departed loved ones again, by replaying audio or video clips, or even leaving a voicemail for them to feel like you are connecting as before. 

Saying goodbye to someone is so final. It puts a lot of pressure on the moment, making sure the last impression is the one you would like to leave them with. Have you said and done all you can or would like to? It’s almost paralyzing. Maybe that’s why I prefer to not say goodbye, but “Until we meet again!”

Thank you for visiting me. Join one (or both!) of our Facebook groups (see top of this page). I share ‘extra treats’ on FacebookInstagramTwitterPinterest, or on this site (see the menu at the top of this page – “musings” tab). Plus, you can get notified of a new posting by subscribing to our newsletter

Please help by nudging us if you encounter technical problems.

Cancer and New Years Resolutions

Cancer and New Years Resolutions

New Year’s Resolutions. I am sure many of us are getting ready to make ours, even if just to be ready when we’re asked about them. But for whom are we making these resolutions – for others or ourselves? 

Almost everyone seems to make them. Keeping them is harder. Maybe we put the bar too high or maybe the problem is that we’re creatures of habit. Many resolutions aim to deprive us of something (e.g. food) or do more of something we don’t enjoy (e.g. exercise). If we don’t follow through on them we can feel like failures and lose trust in our ability to accomplish change, often resulting in disillusionment. 

I wonder why we make them. I guess the reasoning behind it may differ from person to person. In general, they give us meaningful goals to work towards and perhaps a deadline to hold us accountable. The anticipation of them gives us hope for a bigger, better, healthier life. This annual inventory-taking may allow us to feel that we’re keeping an eye on the big picture so that we don’t stray too far and become too loose and free. Perhaps the attraction is that they give us a sense of belonging to a group of people who are also working on the common goal of bettering themselves. 

It’s probably clear that I’m not a big proponent of these resolutions, but it’s hard to escape them. Perhaps we can approach them differently this year. After all, even if you decide to be nicer to yourself, then you have made a resolution. Or if you decide to not make resolutions, then you have made a resolution, too. 

There’s a fine line between accepting who you are and trying to improve on yourself. If and when you make your News Year’s resolutions this year, I encourage you to take some time to give yourself credit for how far you’ve come in terms of your emotional well-being, health and functional status, social interactions, spiritual/religious growth, and financial or vocational goals. Taking stock of your progress instead of simply focusing on ways you want to change may allow you to like yourself ‘just the way you are’, as Mr. Rogers would say!  

Cancer: Am I Going Crazy?

Cancer: Am I Going Crazy?

Almost everyone who is on a cancer journey will wonder at some point, ”Am I going crazy?” This may be one of the best kept secrets that each of us carries.

You may feel you are going crazy or “losing it” when your brain is overwhelmed, desperate, or conflicted by competing priorities like trying to handle your daily responsibilities while dealing with fear of death and prematurely reflecting on your life. This is a scary experience. It can make you feel embarrassed, ashamed, alone, and misunderstood. You may begin to see the world through a negative lens, becoming overly critical about past actions or becoming a doom thinker about the future. This often perpetuates the vicious cycle of isolation and lack of support. 

There is not one magical solution for this suffocating mountain of pressure and doom, but being aware of these dynamics can be half of the solution. It will help you try to find a way to break down your responsibilities into smaller steps, manage your time better or ask for help from others. Reaching out to those whom you feel can support you, changing your perspective, or finding a method to express your inner fears, such as talking, writing, singing, or painting can help.

These changes may be slow and subtle in the beginning, but as you gain momentum, growth can begin, allowing surviving to become thriving. 

Remember that there is no manual that will help resolve everyone’s stress. We are all winging it, even if we look like we always have it together. And really, what is normal, anyway? 

Cancer and the Meaning of Life

Cancer and the Meaning of Life

The meaning of life. Such a loaded term. It means different things to different people at different times and phases of their lives.

You can look at it from many angles — psychological, spiritual, religious, existential.

Do you take it, find it, give it, create it, pay it forward? Is it the same or different from having a purpose in life or leaving a legacy?

Such an important yet indefinable concept, a moving target

You may not think about the meaning of life until you  are confronted with your own mortality. Most people don’t. Then you may not have enough time, energy, stamina, or resources to accomplish and realize your hopes and expectations. You may need to modify your expectations which can lead to frustration or even despair.

Should the meaning of life be about making yourself or someone else happy? Helping yourself or helping another? Making change on a small scale or a large scale?

Unless you live on a deserted island the ripple effect makes it hard to not have an effect on the world. Your small actions and gestures touch other people who touch other people, and so on. We are all connected.

Finding meaning helps you to stay on a path, but don’t let the pursuit of meaning become your purpose in life. You’ll be doomed to fail. Humans like to try to understand everything, but the more you think about life’s meaning, the more lost you may become.

Show up. Be yourself. Do what you can. That’s good enough! Sometimes there are no answers as to why we got sick and there is no guidance for finding life’s deeper meaning and purpose. All we can do is be kind, go with the flow, and focus on the small and simple things.  

It’s About Time!

It’s About Time!

The concept of time is interesting. It doesn’t always seem to be aligned well with what we need or want to do. Sometimes we have too much time and sometimes too little. Sometimes it goes too slow, and sometimes too fast. Oftentimes we wish our time away because we eagerly anticipate the weekend or a certain event. This can make time feel like it has slowed down. Then we find that when the anticipated event happens, time flies by seemingly at warp speed! Days and weeks may feel like they pass slowly, while years pass quickly. At times, we feel we waste half our lives standing in line.

I think we all have a conflicted relationship with time. There is never enough time in life. But whether we are in a period that we enjoy or one we wish would pass, all of these times are part of our finite life. I wonder if our conflict may be helped by an evenly-suspended attention span, to be able to observe ourselves and our surroundings at every moment in time in a neutral perspective without any expectation or judgment. If we could master not being constantly engaged or disengaged, but to be evenly submerged throughout all our activities every day. By not giving preconceived importance or priority to any part of our days or lives, we could allow ourselves the freedom to find meaningful opportunities even in the rougher times. Some may compare this to mindfulness meditation activities, but these activities are short-lived, while an even attention span is one to be applied throughout the whole day. Some infinities are longer than others. 

We tend to say that time flies when you’re having fun, but then a patient reminded me that time also flies fast when you’re not having fun! Not feeling well due to cancer and its treatments can make you retreat into a cocoon and lose track of time, while the world (hopefully only temporarily) continues to evolve around and without you, almost rendering the illusion that you are standing still. In short, cancer survivors have a complicated relationship with time. Being aware of that may perhaps help you remain kind to yourself, set (realistic and do-able) priorities, ask for and accept help, and make choices (and memories, hopes, and wishes) that fit best with where you are in your journey.