Why Thirty Patients Matter
Lately, I've found myself having the same conversation over and over again.
I'm trying to explain to people why they should care that roughly thirty patients with Classic Galactosemia lost access to a medication they had depended on for years.
Thirty.
Most people hear that number and move on.
Thirty patients doesn't sound like a national crisis. It doesn't sound like something that should make headlines. It doesn't sound like a healthcare issue that affects them.
But those thirty patients represent something much bigger than thirty patients.
They represent a systemic problem in healthcare.
For those unfamiliar with the situation, govorestat was an investigational therapy developed for Classic Galactosemia, an ultra-rare genetic disease. Many patients participated in clinical trials for years. Some patients experienced meaningful improvements in symptoms that matter deeply to families—seizures, tremors, cognition, behavior, and daily functioning. When the drug ultimately failed to receive FDA approval and patient access pathways changed, families were left facing uncertainty, disruption, and, in some cases, the sudden loss of a therapy they had come to rely on.
But this isn't really a story about one drug.
It's a story about what happens when a healthcare system encounters patients who don't fit the model it was built to serve.
The challenge begins with the word rare.
People hear "rare disease" and assume it has nothing to do with them. They imagine a tiny group of patients living on the margins of medicine.
But what most people don't know is that rare disease affects approximately 1 in 10 people. There are more than 10,000 known rare diseases. Individually, each disease affects a small population. Collectively, they represent one of the largest patient populations in healthcare.
Rare disease is not rare. It's simply fragmented. And that fragmentation makes it easy to ignore.
What is happening to these thirty patients is not just a rare disease problem. It is a preview of where healthcare is heading.For decades, medicine has been built around averages. Clinical trials are built around averages. Insurance policies are built around averages. Treatment guidelines are built around averages. Regulatory systems are built around averages. Most people don't notice because they fit reasonably well within those averages.
Rare disease patients do not. We are the patients who expose where the system breaks. We expose what happens when patient populations are too small for traditional trial designs. We expose what happens when meaningful clinical benefits don't fit neatly into predefined endpoints. We expose what happens when access to treatment depends on systems that were never designed for ultra-small populations.We expose what happens when continuity of care disappears because there is no established playbook for what comes next.
And here's the part that should concern everyone.
What if you have a rare disease and simply don't know it yet?
What if your symptoms have been treated individually for years, but nobody has identified the underlying cause?
What if advances in genetic sequencing reveal that your condition is not common at all, but uniquely yours?
That future is already arriving.
Every year, genetic testing identifies new disorders, new subtypes, and new patient populations. Medicine is moving toward greater personalization, not less. More patients will discover that they don't fit neatly into standardized treatment pathways.
The future of healthcare is not more average. The future of healthcare is more individual.
That means the problems facing rare disease patients today will eventually become problems everyone must solve.
That's why thirty patients matter.
Not because thirty is a large number.
Because thirty patients are exposing weaknesses in the system before the rest of the world notices them.
They are showing us where healthcare struggles to accommodate individual biology.
They are showing us where innovation collides with outdated frameworks.
They are showing us what happens when medicine becomes personal, but the system remains standardized.
Rare disease advocates are often accused of fighting for special treatment.
We're not.
We're fighting for a healthcare system capable of recognizing that human beings are not averages.
Thirty patients lost access to a medication.
But that's not the story.
The story is that thirty patients revealed a problem that eventually affects all of us.
And if we can build a healthcare system that works for the rarest patients among us, we can build one that works better for everyone.