THE DOCTOR

by Lenn Robbins

Religion was a pillar of Dr. Eli Diamond’s upbringing.

He attended an orthodox Hebrew school in Boston, took a year after high school to enroll in a one-year rabbinical course in Israel, majored in religion as an undergrad and studied secularism and cults in graduate school

So of course, he’s an atheist.

Dr. Eli Diamond knew he wanted to be a doctor at an early age, especially after he successfully treated his first patient - Ernie.

This is merely one fascinating aspect of a man whose life and work has been a study in the unconventional. Diamond, 41, lives in Brooklyn with his husband and their two children. He’s got the requisite Williamsburg beard. He seldom wears a lab coat, no less a sports jacket. His work attire tends to consist of patterned shirts, contrarian ties, checkered dress pants and colorful socks.

A significant part of his time is spent writing grants, to secure funds to study how to talk to patients about cancer. But he is no Grim Reaper.

“I’m still mostly interested in how people live,’’ Diamond said. “And how to help them live well. The science part is how I’m doing it and what has been successful and it works and that’s great.’’

Even Diamond’s two areas of expertise form a yin/yang of the cancer spectrum. His initial work focused on glioblastoma, which is one of the most aggressive and fatal of cancers (think John McCain). His most recent work focuses on histiocytosis, a slow-developing cancer which is now considered curable because of Diamond’s collaborative work with a few experts around the world.

Diamond, along with doctors in France and Texas, had been studying genetic mutations in LCH cancer patients. Two drugs - Trametinib and Cobimetinib - known as mek inhibitors, had been found in 2013 and 2015 to be successful in treating skin cancer, or melanoma. They started experimenting with using those drugs in treating LCH.

In 2015, neither drug had been approved by the Food and Drug Administration for use in LCH patients, but were green-lighted for trial use. Never will Diamond forget the first patient he treated with Trametinib in 2015.

“It was a patient of mine who was very ill, was actually admitted to the hospital and had been put on hospice care, like everyone huddled around his bed, put on morphine, like that,” said Diamond. “Essentially, I bullied the people there on the phone. ‘Get the Trametinib out of the closet and put it in his mouth, give it to him!”’

“He literally was home playing mini golf, like a week later.”

Trametinib is the drug that is currently saving my life. It took nine months of misdiagnosis, frustration and fear before Diamond diagnosed me with a cancer known as Langerhans Cell Histiocytosis (LCH) in late September 2017.

LCH is more prevalent in children than adults, which partially explains why I was initially diagnosed with a sinus infection and then severe allergies. By the time I found Diamond, the mass that had formed behind my right ear had spread to my groin, back, neck and chest, in a position so precarious it could not be biopsied.

If LCH has an advantage it is this: It’s a comparatively slow-growing cancer.

Diamond initially treated me with 10 months of chemotherapy known as Cytarabine, which eviscerated the cancer by November 2018. Or so we thought. While shaving on Christmas Day, I noticed two growths on my neck. The cancer had returned.

Dr Eli Diamond, a true Brooklyn hipster, is one of the leading oncologists in the field of LCH cancer.

Diamond was ready with Trametinib and I was ready for a rematch with LCH. In retrospect, I didn’t realize how profoundly Diamond’s calm and confident demeanor helped me keep the faith.

“It’s part of what drew me to oncology in the first place,’’ said Diamond, who recognizes there is a spiritual side to treating cancer patients. “I get to know people well. I know it’s important to them. It’s a very meaningful connection I have with people.”

Diamond was hired by Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer (MSKCC) in 2011 to study how terminal cancer patients respond to their diagnosis and how to better communicate that grim news. That remains part of his duties but the discovery of mek inhibitors for histiocytosis patients has allowed him to convey good news

In our initial consultation he repeated several times a phrase that became my mantra.

“What you have is treatable and curable,” he said. “Treatable and curable.”

Diamond wanted to be a doctor at a young age. His father David, was a psychiatrist, and his mother, Judy, a hospice social worker. But it wasn’t until Diamond successfully operated on his first “patient” that the die was cast.

‘When I saved Ernie, I knew,’’ he laughs.

A significant part of his time is spent writing grants, to secure funds to study how to talk to patients about cancer. But he is no Grim Reaper.

“It was a patient of mine who was very ill, was actually admitted to the hospital and had been put on

Don’t let the smile you fool you. Diamond says he has always been uber competitive when it comes to academics. He did his undergraduate studies at Harvard in religion, his grad work in the history of science at Cambridge and his medical training at Einstein.

“When I was a resident, I had a tough time leaving work at work,” he said. “Even though there were co-residents in the hospital, I would have patients’ lab results sent to my pager at two in the morning. If a patient’s potassium was low, and someone wasn’t giving them potassium, I’d call. That was just bananas.”

Maryum Ghafary, a former member of Diamond’s team was so inspired by working with the world-renowned endocrinologist, she returned to college to advance her medical knowledge. Ghafary said working with the world-renowned oncologist was, well, bananas.

“It’s rare to find someone that’s so well-educated that can relate to anyone,’’ she said. “Some doctors are not used to speaking to people or speaking in layman’s terms. It’s hard for them to explain simple things.

“And, he remembers everything about every patient.”

I know this firsthand. When I relapsed for a second time in early October, Diamond assured me that an increase in the medication would work. The challenge now is finding a strong enough dose to successfully combat the cancer without leaving me too nauseous and dizzy to get out of bed.

“The future of histiocytosis research is how people live,” Diamond said. “People shouldn’t be dying of these things anymore.”

I’m counting on it.