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[Medical]- Having sleepness nights? Hope it's not 'fatal insomnia', a fatal disease in which one day suddenly you find you can never fall asleep again

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Fatal insomnia is a rare disorder that results in trouble sleeping.[2] The problems sleeping typically start out gradually and worsen over time.[3] Other symptoms may include speech problems, coordination problems, and dementia.[4][5] It results in death within a few months to a few years.[2]

It is a prion disease of the brain.[2] It is usually caused by a mutation to the protein PrPC.[2] It has two forms: fatal familial insomnia (FFI), which is autosomal dominant and sporadic fatal insomnia (sFI) which is due to a noninherited mutation. Diagnosis is based on a sleep study, PET scan, and genetic testing.[1]

Fatal insomnia has no known cure and involves progressively worsening insomnia, which leads to hallucinations, delirium, confusional states like that of dementia, and eventually death.[6] The average survival time from onset of symptoms is 18 months.[6

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fatal_insomnia


 

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Fatal familial insomnia | Genetic and Rare Diseases ...

https://rarediseases.info.nih.gov › diseases › fatal-familial-insomnia

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Jump to Treatment - There is currently no cure for fatal familial insomnia (FFI) or treatment that can slow the disease progression. The management goal is to ease symptoms and keep the person with FFI as comfortable as possible.
Summary · ‎Symptoms · ‎Cause · ‎Prognosis
Self Management of Fatal Familial Insomnia. Part 1: What Is FFI?

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov › pmc › articles › PMC1781306

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by J Schenkein - ‎2006 - ‎Cited by 42 - ‎Related articles
Jump to Symptomatic Treatment - These investigators did not discuss their potential therapeutic ... [1,45] Treatment of insomnia, even if only moderate, may ...
Fatal Familial Insomnia: Symptoms, Causes, and Treatment

https://www.healthline.com › health › fatal-familial-insomnia

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Jan 26, 2018 - Fatal familial insomnia is an extremely rare condition that leaves some ... potential cures, there's no known treatmentfor FFI, though sleep aids ...
Symptoms · ‎Causes · ‎Diagnosis
The lawyer who became a scientist to find a cure for her fatal ...

https://www.theguardian.com › science › sep › fatal-familial-insomnia-figh...

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Sep 23, 2018 - The lawyer who became a scientist to find a cure for her fatal ... In 2011, 27-year-old Harvard graduate Sonia Vallabh got the worst news possible: she was ... lead to a rare and fatal brain disease called fatal familial insomnia.
The tragic fate of the people who stop sleeping - BBC Future

https://www.bbc.com › future › article › 20160118-the-tragic-fate-of-the-pe...

Jan 19, 2016 - A handful of families are cursed with “fatal insomnia”, a cruel disease ... to try as many potential treatments as possible, ranging from vitamin ...
Dying for sleep: Could there be a cure for Fatal Familial ...

https://www.researchgate.net › blog › post › dying-for-sleep-could-there-b...

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Feb 29, 2016 - Dying for sleep: Could there be a cure for Fatal Familial Insomnia? ... considering them as possible models to clarify the development of other ...
Fatal Familial Insomnia: The Disease That Kills By Stealing ...

blogs.discovermagazine.com › crux › 2019/10/11 › fatal-familial-insomni...

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Oct 11, 2019 - There's no known cure at the moment. ... Fatal familial insomnia is caused by a prion version of the PrP protein — a protein found ... Another potential method comes from a pair of researchers with a unique motivation.
Fatal Familial Insomnia: Signs, Symptoms, Treatments ...

https://health.usnews.com › Health › Conditions

Mar 27, 2019 - This rare disease, called fatal familial insomnia, leads to a quick demise for .... There's been limited research into FFI and potential treatments, ...
A review of drug therapy for sporadic fatal insomnia: Prion: Vol ...

https://www.tandfonline.com › doi › full

by P Tabaee Damavandi - ‎2017 - ‎Cited by 6 - ‎Related articles
Jump to SKETCH OF POSSIBLE MOLECULES - ... novel drugs designed for in vivo and in vitro studies as possible treatment of Sporadic Fatal Insomnia.
Fatal Insomnia - Brain, Spinal Cord, and Nerve Disorders ...

https://www.msdmanuals.com › ... › Prion Diseases › Fatal Insomnia

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Fatal Insomnia - Learn about the causes, symptoms, diagnosis & treatment from the MSD Manuals - Medical Consumer Version.
 

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https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20160118-the-tragic-fate-of-the-people-who-stop-sleeping

A handful of families are cursed with “fatal insomnia”, a cruel disease that leads to months of sleepless nights and terrible exhaustion. Will a controversial cure save their lives?

Silvano was on a cruise ship when the family curse struck. An elegant 53-year-old with striking red hair who enjoyed wearing a tuxedo at every possible occasion, he tried to present himself with the poise of the film stars he admired. But while on the ship’s dance floor one evening, he was embarrassed to find that his shirt had become drenched in sweat.

Concerned, he examined himself in a mirror, only to find that his pupils had shrunk to two tiny black pinpricks. It was the same glassy-eyed stare that had afflicted his father and two sisters at the beginning of their mysterious illnesses.

He knew this was just the beginning. Tremors, impotence and constipation could follow. But the most terrifying symptom would be the disappearance of sleep – almost total insomnia for months; a kind of waking coma that ultimately would end in death.

Silvano eventually referred himself to the University of Bologna’s sleep unit for further study, but he was under no illusions about the course of the disease. “He said, ‘I’ll stop sleeping, and within eight or nine months, I’ll be dead,’” one of his doctors, Pietro Cortelli, told me in a phone interview.

“I said ‘how can you be sure?’ He then drew me his genealogical tree from the 18th Century, all by heart.” In each generation, Silvano could name family members who had succumbed to the same fate.

As Silvano had predicted, he died less than a couple of years later, but he left his brain to science in the hope that it might shed some light on the strange disorder that had plagued his family.

What’s going on inside the brains and bodies of people with this strange disease? It’s a mystery that researchers are only now starting to fully understand, and possibly treat with a promising new drug. However, since “Fatal Familial Insomnia” (FFI) involves a genetic legacy that is passed through generations, this research is also raising a difficult and ethically fraught question: if your family’s genes meant you could one day be struck down by the inability to sleep, would you want to be told your fate?

Patient zero

Silvano’s family have mostly remained silent about their struggle with FFI, but about 15 years ago they opened up about their history to the writer DT Max, whose book The Family Who Couldn’t Sleep offers an engrossing portrait of a family living in fear of their own genes. Hunting for “patient zero”, Max found the disease could be traced as far back as a Venetian doctor who fell into a continuous, paralysed torpor during the late 18th Century. Soon after, a nephew named Giuseppe succumbed to a similar fate, and from there, the illness passed through his sons Angelo and Vincenzo to their children and great grandchildren, until it reached Silvano’s father Pietro, who died during World War Two.

Despite this chain of losses, the family tried not to talk about the illness for fear of tempting fate, but that changed in the 1980s when Silvano started developing his symptoms. His niece had married a doctor named Ignazio Roiter, and as a man of science, he persuaded his wife’s uncle to visit Elio Lugaresi’s famous sleep clinic at the University of Bologna, where Cortelli was working.

Together, they set about solving the mystery of the illness. Although their efforts could do nothing to save Silvano or two other family members who would succumb shortly afterwards, extensive testing eventually found the culprit: a misshapen protein in the brain called a prion, caused by a tiny genetic mutation. For some reason it is only at middle age that the prions begin to proliferate wildly, collecting in pockets that poison the neurons.

The size and shape of a walnut, in Silvano’s brain the thalamus appeared to have been riddled with hole-boring worms

This made it a relative of Creutzfeldt–Jakob disease (CJD) and Mad Cow Disease – two other prion diseases that were garnering serious scientific interest at the time. But whereas CJD leaves the surface of the brain looking like Swiss cheese, Silvano’s condition seems to target parts of the thalamus, at the very centre of the skull. Normally the size and shape of a walnut, the thalamus in Silvano’s brain appeared to have been riddled with hole-boring worms.

After years of further research, the scientists can now explain why damage to this small nub of neural tissue unleashes such a puzzling constellation of symptoms. We know, for instance, that this hub orchestrates all our “autonomic” responses to the environment – things like temperature control, blood pressure, heart rate, and the release of hormones to keep the body ticking over comfortably. When it breaks down, it is as if your central heating is going haywire, your water pipes have sprung a leak, your windows are wide open and your loudspeakers are blaring at full volume – everything is in chaos. Hence the profuse sweating and shrunken pupils, the impotence and the constipation.

Turning off consciousness

This erratic autonomic control could also contribute to the patients’ insomnia: their bodies can’t prepare for a night’s sleep. Where blood pressure typically drops before sleep, theirs would be abnormally high, for instance, giving the sensation that their body is still on high alert. “If the sympathetic nervous system is unbalanced, of course you’ve got insomnia,” says Cortelli, who presented his ideas in a recent issue of Sleep Medicine Reviews.

The closest they get to normal sleep is a kind of mindless stupor – not quite asleep, but not quite aware

Compounding these issues, the brain’s rhythms are now in complete disarray. During the night, we normally experience periodic cycles of “rapid eye movement” punctuated by a deeper “slow wave” sleep. During this stage, low-frequency oscillations of electrical activity ripple across the cortex – the gnarled, bark-like tissue on the surface of the brain. This appears to calm down the buzz of coordinated conscious activity you’d normally see when we are awake, while also performing important maintenance work, such as consolidating our memories. And what nub of neural tissue deep in the brain orchestrates those delicate rhythms? The thalamus. Lacking this dimmer switch, the FFI patients are always switched on and can never descend into deep, restorative sleep, says Angelo Gemignani at the University of Pisa, who has demonstrated that people with FFI are missing this important pattern of brain activity.

Without those slow waves, the closest they get to normal sleep is a kind of mindless stupor – not quite asleep, but not quite aware, in which they mindlessly mime their routine daily activities. Cortelli thinks this is a pale remnant of the REM stage that punctuates the deeper stages of sleep; in some ways, it looks like they are acting out dreams. He remembers a woman, Teresa, who would mindlessly mimic the action of combing someone’s hair; she had been a hairdresser before the disease struck.

Slowed decline

One remarkable patient, however, has hinted that there may be some unusual ways to alleviate the misery. A psychologist at Touro College in New York, Joyce Schenkein first came across Daniel not through her work, but through a radio chat line (a precursor to internet forums in the 1990s). “His profile was very clever – he was a brilliant guy, extremely funny,” she says; they ended up having a long-distance friendship. (Daniel’s name has been changed to preserve his family’s privacy.)

Daniel’s response was to buy a motorhome and travel across the US - he wasn’t just going to sit there and die

In a conversation a few years later, he started to sound confused and vague. “At some point, he said ‘pardon me if I sound incoherent but I haven’t slept for five days,’” says Schenkein. Medical tests revealed he was carrying the FFI mutation. (His mother had apparently known there was some illness in his father’s family, but had decided not to worry her son with the details.) Worse still, it was the form that should progress most rapidly.

Rather than crumbling into despair, his response was to buy a motorhome and travel across the US. “He was an adventurous spirit – he wasn’t just going to sit there and die,” Schenkein says. As the symptoms became more extreme, he employed a driver, and then a nurse, to take over the steering wheel when he was too unwell, she says.

Floating in the egg-like shell, he found the rest that had proven so elusive, enjoying a blissful four and a half hours of sleep

Meanwhile (and sometimes with Schenkein’s advice) Daniel was determined to try as many potential treatments as possible, ranging from vitamin supplements and exercise to improve his general fitness to anaesthetics such as ketamine and nitrous oxide, and sleep medicines like diazepam – anything that would give him a few winks of sleep, even for as short as 15 minutes at a time. He even bought a sensory deprivation tank, having found that even under an anaesthetic, his fragile slumbers could be interrupted by the slightest sound or movement.

Floating in the egg-shaped cocoon while bathed in warm salt water, he found the rest that had proven so elusive, enjoying a blissful four-and-a half hours of solid sleep. Once he awoke, however, he had to face terrifying hallucinations – including a strange uncertainty as to whether he was alive or dead.

He even tried electroconvulsive therapy to see if the sharp electric shock could knock him out

Despite these (relative) successes, Daniel still faced regular relapses that became more intense as the disease progressed. “When the symptoms reared themselves, he couldn’t do anything,” says Schenkein. “There were times when he lost the whole day – it takes over your consciousness. He could sit there without the initiative to move; he’d be frozen in time.” Once, he tried electroconvulsive therapy to see if the sharp electric shock could knock him out; it did, but he suffered such bad amnesia afterwards that it seemed a far from ideal solution. After a few years of this struggle, he too finally passed away.

Clearing the debris

Although none of the treatments provided long-term relief, Daniel lived years longer than his diagnosis might have predicted. Schenkein points to recent evidence showing that slow-wave sleep triggers currents of cerebrospinal fluid to wash through the channels between brain cells, carrying away the debris and detritus from the day’s activity, and leaving it clean like the beach after high tide. Perhaps, by alleviating the insomnia, you can encourage this clean-up and forestall the brain’s further disintegration. Together with the Italian neurologist Pasquale Montagna (who had worked on those other cases of fatal familial insomnia), Schenkein wrote up the case study for a medical journal in the hope it may inspire others to look for measures to extend the life of patients with FFI.

“It at least opens the possibility to say that there is something we can do,” says Cortelli – though he emphasises that we can only learn so much from a single case report; it is unclear if similar measures would help any other sufferers.

The Venetian family’s hopes lie in a different direction. Lugaresi passed away at the end of December last year after decades of working with people with FFI, but Roiter and his colleagues at Milan and Treviso believe they may finally be close to the cure they had all dreamed of. Last year, they announced a clinical trial of a new drug, which, they hope, may prevent (or at least decelerate) the formation of the poisonous prions.

The drug in question, doxycycline, had previously shown some promise in experiments investigating CJD; originally an antibiotic, it seemed to stop the prions sticking together in clumps and encouraged their breakup through the brain’s natural enzymes. Indeed, in a small clinical trial on people showing early signs of the disease, the 21 people taking the drug lived about twice as long (an average of 13 months) as the 78 control subjects.

The problem was that many family members did not want to know the results of the test: the fear would cloud the rest of their lives

Disappointingly, a later study that tested the drug on patients already showing more aggressive symptoms of CJD failed to find a benefit. Roiter and his colleagues wonder if by that point, it might simply be too late to be of use. For this reason, they want to see if doxycycline may still function as a preventative treatment in people at risk of FFI, before the prions have started to amass. “It might delay or completely disrupt the development of the disease,” says Gianluigi Forloni at the Mario Negri Institute for Pharmacological Research in Milan, who is helping to lead the project.

Setting up a reliable trial, while remaining sensitive to the family’s anxieties, involved some knotty considerations. First, the scientists had to genetically test each member to see who was carrying the mutation, and so should be given the active drug. From these, they selected 10 members aged 42 to 52 who might be expected to decline within the next decade.

Fear of knowledge

The problem was that many of the family members did not want to know the results of the test: even with the hope of the drug, the fear would cloud every waking minute of their lives. For this reason, a further 15 members who are not at risk of the disease will also receive a sham treatment. This means that each member should have no way of figuring out the results of their test: as far as they can tell, there is less than a 50:50 chance of proving positive or not.

Without treatment, Forloni predicts that at least four of the 10 subjects carrying the mutation would be expected to succumb within the next decade. So if the team find that more than six have escaped the disease by the end of that period, they will consider the trial a success – perhaps justifying more widespread use.

Despite the glimmer of hope it offers, the trial remains controversial among some of the doctors who have been following this family closely. Cortelli, for one, has decided not to be involved in the project because he is concerned about its ethics. Some of the side effects of the antibiotics may still give away the subjects’ diagnosis, causing unnecessary distress, he thinks. (In their defence, Roiter and Forloni’s team will be providing psychological support throughout the experiment.) In any case, he is sceptical that the evidence for the drug’s potential is not strong enough to justify such an extended period of treatment.

And even if the family members have escaped the disease at the end of the trial, Cortelli says we can’t rule out the possibility that these few individuals were simply lucky; some people with the mutation have still lived into their 80s, although no one knows why their gene remained dormant.

But with anxiety and uncertainty plaguing them whatever they decide, it’s not hard to see why the family is willing to take a gamble on the treatment: here is a chance to absolve the death sentence that has been written in their DNA for centuries.

Silvano’s niece once spoke of creeping into her mother’s room each night to check that she was really asleep and not hiding the first signs of insomnia. She was, she said, a “spy in her own home”. If the drug really does work, it would be the end of this living nightmare – the start of a future in which the solace of a night’s sleep can be embraced without fearing it could soon be the last.

https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20160118-the-tragic-fate-of-the-people-who-stop-sleeping
 

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Turns out there was at least 1 case in Singapore that was reported.

https://www.straitstimes.com/singapore/deadly-insomnia

The sleep disturbances began shortly after Mrs Patricia Chan's 57th birthday in April this year.

Her husband, former minister of state Chan Soo Sen, recalled: "She would talk in her dreams, gesticulate, roll around and kick."

As the weeks passed, the symptoms got worse.

"She would suddenly fall asleep while talking or being driven in the car," said Mr Chan, who is also 57.

The talking in her sleep got louder, and the gestures more pronounced.



But if she felt tired or drained, she did not show it. She kept up her routine and was active and cheerful.


This was a day she had long been prepared for, Mr Chan told Mind Your Body last week.

Eight years ago, Mrs Chan learnt she carried the gene for an extremely rare and traumatic disease - fatal familial insomnia - which is said to affect only about 100 people in some 40 families worldwide.

Sufferers live with progressively worsening insomnia and brain function as the brain deteriorates.

Mrs Chan had herself tested when her elder brother died and his doctor suspected the cause was fatal familial insomnia.

Her mother also suffered from similar symptoms before she died in 1976. Mrs Chan then knew she had a 50 per cent chance of inheriting the gene and disease.

Her blood sample had to be sent to a laboratory in Europe as the test was not available here.

Not one to bemoan her bad luck, however, she did not let the diagnosis affect her life, said her husband. She continued to be active in church, meet her friends and care for church members who were sick.

"It doesn't help if you get emotional about it. We accepted what would be happening and decided that, meanwhile, we would continue to live normally for as long as we could," he said.

This cheerful personality and love for her family was what drew him to her in the first place.

She came from a small town in Malaysia. They met in 1977 at Oxford University in Britain, where she was a student nurse and he was studying mathematics as a President's Scholar. They were married in Singapore in 1981. When they had their two boys, Mrs Chan gave up her career as a paediatric nurse to take care of them. Mr Chan retired from politics in 2011 and now works part-time as a business adviser.

When she fell ill, Mr Chan said, there was just one thing she feared - losing her memory.

He said: "I told her: 'Don't worry. Even if you forget about all of us, all of us will remember you forever'."

DISEASE SETS IN

While they could, the couple did things together. They visited their younger son Richard, 24, a dentistry undergraduate in Australia, at the end of June. They have an elder son Nicholas, 28, who is a civil servant.

"In July, after we came back, her short-term memory began to deteriorate progressively. She started to forget where she put her keys and her mobile phone. Then, she couldn't remember what she had just eaten, who she was with and what happened yesterday."

She also began to mix up day and night. "Her sleep became irregular. She would wake up in the morning, but would think it was night."

While many facets of fatal familial insomnia remain unknown, it is clear that sleep is important for brain health, said Professor Einar Wilder-Smith, a senior consultant at the division of neurology at the National University Hospital.

"If we are forced to keep awake beyond 72 hours, we become psychotic, start to hallucinate and the brain starts to malfunction," he said.

Fatal familial insomnia is caused by a genetic mutation in a prion protein. It is one of several such rare, progressive and neurodegenerative disorders that include Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, where dementia sets in after a few months.

Fatal familial insomnia sufferers are initially aware of what is happening. There is no cure or treatment for fatal familial insomnia, which typically strikes in middle age. Most people die within 18 months.

Sufferers of this disease cannot get past the first stage of sleep, said

Prof Wilder-Smith. That is the lightest sleep stage, where if the sleeper is awakened, he may feel he has not received any rest.

As the brain degenerates, a person first loses the ability to do tasks that require manual dexterity or complexity, such as abstract thinking and speaking, said Prof Wilder-Smith.

Simpler tasks, such as lifting the hand or closing the eyes, go later.

"Breathing is a less complex task, so that function is lost at a later stage," he said.

By August, Mrs Chan had lost control of her fingers and her feet, and had to use a wheelchair.

"When she sent SMS messages, she would type nonsense and send it to various people," said Mr Chan.

"She was unable to write or use chopsticks. We got her to use a spoon but later on, she was unable to find her mouth with the spoon."

She became unstable and prone to falls. In the night, if she needed to use the bathroom, she would not wake her husband.

"A few times, I found her in the toilet, with her head just a few inches away from the steps. We installed a grab bar but she could not grab it. She could not be left safely on her own," said Mr Chan.

"Seeing her sick like that was really very sad as she was a very cheerful and energetic person."

COMFORT AT HOME

She was hospitalised in August, but the only option available to her was palliative care. As he had "no heart" to admit her to a hospice, he opted to have her at home, cared for by two full-time nurses.

While her condition worsened, he set himself three objectives: to keep her safe, comfortable and happy.

So, though it was a very sad time, there was also happiness.

He and Nicholas took care of her on Sundays. He also scheduled a one-hour gap between the day and night nurse in the morning as well as a two-hour gap in the evening so he could spend some time with her alone each day.

He would wheel her out for walks and dinner. Sometimes, they would go on the bus or the MRT.

"I noticed she was very happy. She sat up straight and pointed here and pointed there. She spoke but I didn't know what she was saying. By then, her speech had become very slurred," said Mr Chan. "But if she was happy, I was happy too."

By September, Mrs Chan had started to mix up past and present.

"She would talk about our younger son having to go for music lessons: 'It's 7.30am. How come he hasn't gone to school?'

"'He's in Australia', I would tell her. Fifteen minutes later, she would say: 'It's 7.45am. How come he hasn't come down?'," said Mr Chan.

"Sometimes, I would ask her: 'Do you know who I am?' "

She would give him a mischievous smile, he said.

"She knew that she had a bad memory and was trying to be playful about it."

He learnt that caregiving is a tremendous responsibility that should not be shouldered alone.

"If you cannot cope, it ends up undermining your love for the person you are caring for. It's far better to say: 'Yes, I need help.' Mobilise friends, family and consider institutional care. If you are overwhelmed, you're not going to be any good."

Mr Chan said he was grateful that his wife had many good friends who came to the house constantly to keep her company.

"There was never a dull moment. They were there to make her happy. They bought her lunch and snacks. I never had to worry about her lunch," he said.

"In sickness, your greatest enemy is loneliness. She was happy because she was not lonely. She still wanted to talk, even though her speech (function) went progressively, and her friends were willing to listen. We didn't understand her, but we believed that if she kept on talking, she must be happy."

PEACEFUL END

Nonetheless, towards the end, it became tough on everyone.

"We could sense the next stage was coming. She began to lose bowel control. She started to wet the bed and defecate in bed. She also started to show difficulty in swallowing," he said.

And she would not sleep at all. Instead, she would hallucinate.

Still, he made plans to accompany her on a trip to Krabi in Thailand with her friends.

One day before the trip, however, on Oct 27, Mrs Chan suffered cardiac arrest. The hospital put her on life support, but declared her brain dead 72 hours later.

Mr Chan consulted his sons and they decided to take her off the ventilator.

"The next morning, we called in the pastor. Her closest friend was there. Together, the five of us stayed with her till the reading on the machine went flat," said Mr Chan.

The end was peaceful but premature, he said.

"We expected her to live about 18months, but she lasted seven to eight months."

In the last stage of fatal familial insomnia, total dementia sets in and the patient slips into a coma due to the brain degeneration.

Said Prof Wilder-Smith: "Ultimately, the patient stops breathing. But it takes a long time for the brain to degenerate to a stage where respiratory functions stop."

More often than not, somebody with severe brain degeneration will die from a secondary cause, such as an infection or thrombosis, he said.

In Mrs Chan's case, her heart stopped.

Mr Chan said he, his wife and their sons were able to face the disease so calmly because they had faced up to the truth, as difficult as it was.

"Somehow, we rationally accepted it as it had happened to her mother and her sibling," he said.

"The moment you ask 'why me' and wallow in self-pity and get angry with everybody, you are going to fail in your objectives and the outcome is still the same."

When asked whether his sons have been tested, he said: "I leave the decision to them. One of them has tested negative."

https://www.straitstimes.com/singapore/deadly-insomnia
 

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Chan Soo Sen's wife dies after suffering from sleep disease

ST_20131102_VCHAN2_3907013e_2x.jpg


Minister of State for Trade and Industry Teo Ser Luck (left) with Mr Chan at the wake for Mr Chan’s wife, Patricia, who had been unwell for six months before her death on Thursday from a rare genetic disease. -- PHOTO: LIANHE WANBAO

The wife of former minister of state Chan Soo Sen, Mrs Patricia Chan, died on Thursday after suffering from a rare genetic disease that deprived her of sleep.

She had been unwell for six months and lost consciousness on Sunday before the couple and their elder son Nicholas, 28, a civil servant, were to attend a church service.

She was kept on life support until her younger son, Richard, 24, an undergraduate in Australia, returned home on Tuesday - two days before she was taken off life support.

She was 57.

On Friday, Mr Chan, a former MP for Joo Chiat, described his wife as deeply religious and kind.

Speaking to The Straits Times during the wake at Mount Vernon Sanctuary, he said: "She gave up her job as a highly trained paediatric nurse to raise her two children. She was also exceptional in her ability to make friends. She was warm to them, helped them and shared everything with them."



In the final months, as her health deteriorated, she was surrounded by friends who looked after her. After work each day, Mr Chan would push her in her wheelchair for walks and to go for dinner. Sometimes they would take the bus or MRT, owing to his one-year driving ban in August.


"I wanted her to live a normal life for as long as possible," he said.

Eight years ago, after her elder brother died, Mrs Chan did a test and found she had inherited fatal familial insomnia.

But she was fine until April this year - after she had celebrated her 57th birthday - when her insomnia started, her brain cells began to degenerate, and she became disoriented, mixing up day and night and people.

She gradually lost control of her motor skills, struggling to hold chopsticks, and eat and stand on her own. Two months ago, she moved about in a wheelchair. "We knew it could happen, but we were not mentally prepared as it happened so suddenly," Mr Chan said.

During this period, Mr Chan, who retired from politics in 2011, was fined $2,000 for drink-driving and banned from driving.

When asked how he coped with the stresses of the situation, he said: "I do not link the two or take pity on myself. When you commit an offence, you own up to it, accept the punishment and move on. Your wife is ill, you try your best and you keep moving on."

On Sunday, as Mrs Chan was getting ready for church, exhaustion overcame her. While she was lying down, her pulse stopped.

She was taken to the National University Hospital (NUH) and put on life support.

On Wednesday, she was declared brain-dead but Mr Chan asked the doctors to sustain her, so that he and his two sons could spend one last night with her.

On Friday, family, friends, former PAP colleagues and Joo Chiat residents came in droves to the wake to pay their respects and comfort Mr Chan, a People's Action Party MP from 1996 to 2011.

Among them were Deputy Prime Minister Teo Chee Hean, Minister of State Teo Ser Luck, former deputy prime minister Wong Kan Seng and former senior minister of state Chng Jit Koon.

Joo Chiat MP Charles Chong had earlier visited Mrs Chan at NUH. The funeral is on Monday.

Said Mr Josh Lee, 54, a friend of Mrs Chan's for 20 years: "She was a devoted wife, a mother who made sacrifices and God's servant. She was a kind woman who touched the lives of many."

https://www.straitstimes.com/singapore/chan-soo-sens-wife-dies-after-suffering-from-sleep-disease
 

UltimaOnline

Alfrescian (InfP)
Generous Asset
Ex-MP's wife dies of FFI: Children have 50% chance of inheriting rare insomnia disease

20131102_ffi_tnp_0.jpg


SINGAPORE - If things had gone as planned, former Joo Chiat MP Chan Soo Sen and his wife Patricia would have been in Krabi this week.

They would be holidaying at the Thai beach resort with her group of about 10 friends.

Sadly, the trip never happened.

Mrs Chan, 57, suffered a seizure on Sunday. She died on Thursday, the date she would have returned to Singapore.

"It's ironic," Mr Chan, also 57, said. "She heard her friends talking about Krabi and wanted to go. I told her I'll go with her. In the day, she can be with them. At night, I'll take over her care."

Mrs Chan had fatal familial insomnia (FFI), a genetic disease that affects the brain and body movement. It is so rare that only about 100 people worldwide are affected.

She got herself tested in 2005 after her relative died from the disease. The results were positive. But the symptoms did not show up until April this year.

"Her sleep was disturbed," Mr Chan recalled. "We knew it was FFI."

Tragedy on Sunday
She was able to fly to Australia in June to visit her younger son Richard, a dentistry undergraduate. But her condition soon worsened.

"Her fingers were affected, so she could not hold chopsticks. It affected her feet and she couldn't stand," Mr Chan said, demonstrating how his wife fell over.

She had to rely on a wheelchair and round-the-clock care from hired help, her family and friends.

On Sunday, Mr Chan was on his way home after teaching classes at the Nanyang Technological University when older son Nicholas called. She had suffered a seizure.



Mr Chan drove to hospital and received the bad news. Doctors said she was brain dead.

The family decided to keep her on life support so that Richard could bid a final farewell.

He flew into Singapore in the early hours of Wednesday morning. They decided to take her off life support on Thursday.

"It must have been traumatic for Richard, rushing from the airport to hospital," Mr Chan said. "And he'll be flying off after her cremation on Monday."

Family and friends

Mrs Chan, an avid traveller, had a strong support network to tap on.

Her friends chose her final outfit, a pink cheongsam, and the photos for the slideshow montage at Mount Vernon Sanctuary. Mr Chan said the couple never discussed his MP duties.

"We kept a very clear line between work and personal life," he said.

When she was stricken with the disease, her nearest and dearest focused on making her as comfortable as possible.

"The house was always filled with people, her friends who'd visit and help," Mr Chan added.

Though medical literature said those who suffer from FFI have a lifespan of between one and two years, Mrs Chan died within half a year.

"When things like this happen, you don't ask why," Mr Chan said. "You can only accept it, live with it and move on. Otherwise, you'll end up very depressed."

When things like this happen, you don't ask why. You can only accept it, live with it and move on.

Fatal Familial Insomnia: A rare disease

Fatal Familial Insomnia: A rare disease

- Fatal familial insomnia (FFI) is a genetically transmitted disease.

- A person has a 50 per cent chance of developing the disease when one parent carries the FFI gene mutation.

- There is no treatment or cure.

- It is extremely rare and estimated to have affected about 100 people worldwide.

- It tends to strike those in their 50s or above, but symptoms may occur in patients as young as 20.

- Symptoms include feeling increasingly tired and lethargic, hallucinations, constipation, weight loss, personality change, depression and multiple motor disorders.

- The sufferer eventually falls into a coma and dies from sleep deprivation and associated symptoms.

- The estimated lifespan from the onset of symptoms is between one and two years.

https://www.asiaone.com/health/exmp...ve-50-chance-inheriting-rare-insomnia-disease
 
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