TB treatment is bad.  It’s hard on you.  It’s hard on your family.  It lasts six months.  You have to take a cocktail of pills everyday for at least the first two months.  The pills make you weak and unable to work.   And that’s the most amicable treatment for regular TB.  There also exist longer, more arduous treatments for MDR TB and XDR TB.  Here I profile three cases of TB treatment which I’ve seen (The names have been changed to generic Spanish names to protect the patients).

Case 1: Susceptible TB

José started his treatment a month ago.  Everyday he goes to his local health clinic down the street to take his pill-cocktail.  He got diagnosed with TB when he was hospitalized because of the TB effects on his lungs.  It had spread to his extrapleural tissue.  Before he was hospitalized, he was working as a painter.  He can’t work now, because the treatment makes him weak.  More than that, ever since he started treatment, he has gotten a fever in the afternoon.  He has tried numerous times to see a doctor about this, but he has yet to successfully see the hospital’s doctor. His wife cannot work, because she is nearly blind from glaucoma.  His daughter is studying, but might have to drop out because they can’t afford to pay the fees for school.

Daily dose of TB drugs: Isoniazid, Rifampicin, Pyrazinamide and Ethambutol

Case 2: MDR TB

MDR TB is labeled as such because it is resistant to the two most common and effective first-line drugs: Isoniazid and Rifampicin.  Patients with MDR have a treatment that lasts anywhere from 18-24 months.  Juan has MDR TB.  Before he was diagnosed with TB, he was a tour guide for the Paracas nature reserve.  He has been receiving treatment for 6 months.  Which consists of daily injections of the second-line TB drugs.  He has got injections in his legs, his butt, and now he is getting them in his arm.  He has had several negative TB tests, and he hopes to change treatment from receiving shots to taking pills.  He says he doesn’t mind the shots (although the way he says it makes me question if he’s telling the truth), but the  dolorous side effects causing his legs to feel heavy and immobile is what he can’t stand.  But in order to be approved to leave treatment, he needs a doctor’s approval, and he has been waiting all month for his appointment, which he has this week.  There is no guarantee that the doctor will say he can change his treatment.  If he has to continue with the shots, he might abandon treatment.

Case 3: XDR TB

XDR TB, extremely drug resistant TB, is resistant to Isoniazid and Rifampicin, as well as several second-line drugs.  The cure rate for XDR is much lower than MDR, but it is still curable in some cases and treatable in all.  Miguel has XDR TB.  He has been in chemotherapy treatment for his TB for the last five years.  And he is still not cured.  The drugs are fighting the TB, but they can’t kill it.  He is weak and in a wheelchair–more so because of the drugs  than the TB.  He is mostly deaf, and has communicates by writing.  All these side effects are because his TB is resistant to the drugs with fewer side effects.  He had know choice but to take these damaging drugs.  His mother takes care of him, and for now, the government is still providing treatment for his TB.

I tried as best I could to represent these cases as I see them.  I try not to make them worse than there are, and I do not want them to be looked at as pity cases, but rather a snapshot of reality for three people with TB here in Peru.

Why aren’t there better drugs?

Well, TB is particularly tricky disease, different from normal bacterial infections  so simple bacterial drugs don’t work.  If you want some more in depth biology, check out the wikipedia page.  But also, Tuberculosis is largely a disease of the poor.  In the past, there had been little research money dedicated to the disease, because who would pay for the better drugs that can cure TB faster with less side effects?  In recent years, partly because of PIH, TB has started to get more publicity.  There is now a greater push from organizations such as TB Alliance.

Also interesting is perhaps the most important discovery I’ve ever seen: A self-replicating synthetic DNA cell.  This may not mean too much to you non-science folk, but I think with this achievement, the possibility for vaccine development is wide open.  We can now explore the possibilities of developing a vaccine that evolve to combat a constantly-mutating disease, such as TB.

The patients in Pisco whom we work with are poor. Most don’t have the money, let alone the time, to take a day of travel for pleasure. This weekend, we took a group of patients and their kids to various attractions around the Ica area. One patient said to me, “The only time I have been to Ica, is when I was hospitalized because of TB, and need surgery.” For you Michiganders, that’s like living in Ann Arbor all your life and never visiting Detroit.
The patients we brought were participating in group therapy sessions in dealing with TB treatment. TB treatment is a long, taxing process that can last anywhere from 6 months to two years. As you can imagine, taking daily medicines that have debilitating side effect can be mentally tough. Add to that the stigma from the disease–which is still a huge problem–and you get a disease that attacks the body and the mind. PIH has group therapy sessions with current and former patients to help work through these issues.
Saturday was a day of fun. The patients, their kids, the PIH workers, and the government health employees piled into a bus to go from Pisco to Ica. First we stopped at Ica’s town square. Taking pictures in front of the fountain and enjoying the sights. Next we went to tour a bodega, a winery. I got to play with the kids a bit while the adults tasted some sweet Peruvian wine. But when I was chasing one kid, he fell down and scraped his knee. The next day, he claimed he fell because he was scared of me because I’m so big.
Later we had duck at a nice restaurant. And when eating meat in Peru, they don’t typically give out knives. So it was a fork-and-hand-to-mouth process. To those who know me well, this form of ingesting suits my style of eating better than the “more civilized” form.

A photo outside the restaurant with me and two nurses.  This was taken to show my height.

A photo outside the restaurant with me and two nurses. This was taken to show my height.

After lunch, we went to La Huacachina, an oasis that has been so built up, it reminds me of Niagra Falls. People are climbing the sand dunes, sand boarding down them, taking dune buggies. It is a cheesy attraction, but it’s pretty nonetheless. To see trees growing in the middle of the desert is cool. The patients were taken out in row boats, which most , even though they live next to the ocean, don’t have the opportunity to do.

La Huacachina

La Huacachina

And so went the day. But more than the sites we went to, the best part was giving the patients an opportunity to relax, away from the harsh poverty in which they live. Who doesn’t need a vacation?

When I think of rural poverty, I imagine lush,  mountainous countrysides with windy dirt roads.  And that’s pretty much what things looked like along the coast of Peru.  Except there was nothing lush, and the mountains were made sand instead of rock.

Laguna Grande is a small fisherman’s town 2.5 hours drive from Pisco, its nearest city.  Its population varies according to the fishing season, but around 500 people are permanent residents.  The directions to get out there are as follows: stay as close to the ocean as you can, past the rock that looks like a turtle (Land Before Time, anyone?),try to find sticks  jutting out of the sand.  Sometimes we had to stop completely to just spot the next marker in the desert.  Twice we had to back track because we had gotten lost.  It was a pretty hard place to navigate, but we finally made it.

Fishing town, Laguna Grande

Fishing town, Laguna Grande

The purpose of our visit was to visit the government health post in Laguna Grande.  We greeted the nurse–one of only two that worked there.  We chatted for a while about how things were going.  Most of her patients are seasonal migrants, only living in Laguna Grande for part of the year.  They hadn’t seen a TB patient in ten years.  But they can’t really do tests for TB because they don’t have a fridge.  They also have no way to do tests for HIV, but she said she has seen symptoms of the disease in some of here patients.    They also have to import all of their water from Pisco.  A 2.5 hour journey, just for water.  The government gives the health post a monthly ration of water, but it is hardly sufficient.

Laguna Grande's Health Post

Laguna Grande's Health Post

Laguna Grande is a geographically isolated community.  Many questions come to mind in this situation.  How can a health care facility not have enough water?  And no fridge?  Well, part of our goal in the next coming months will be to work with the  government to see that a fridge arrives, sufficient water is supplied, and HIV tests become available.  Our commitment is to providing the community with  sustainable sustainable structural development.  We will work  with the fishermen, with the nurses, and with–not around–the government.