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By Andrew Chung, Yasmeen Abutaleb and Deborah J. Nelson
Dec 15 (Reuters) - For nearly two years, a killer stalked
the patients of Providence Alaska Medical Center.
It was a bacteria called Acinetobacter baumannii, a common
cause of infections in hospitals. This one was different.
After a rash of mild cases in early 2011, doctors began
seeing highly drug-resistant infections in patients, said Dr
Megan Clancy, an infectious-disease specialist at the Anchorage,
Alaska, hospital. And the bacteria was attacking more patients
than just the severely ill ones who are the usual victims of
drug-resistant "superbugs."
Clancy took emergency measures. Infected patients were
isolated. Staff and visitors had to adhere to strict
hand-washing and other infection-control protocols. Furniture
and equipment were scrubbed to remove a microbe that can
stubbornly persist on all sorts of surfaces.
Clancy also contacted outside researchers for help. They
found that a strain of the bacteria had acquired a rare
combination of traits. Bacteria typically are either highly
resistant to drugs or highly virulent. This strain was both.
Doctors quickly burned through the antibiotics used as the
second and third lines of defense against superbugs. This strain
shook them off.
"When you start running out of medications, it gets pretty
desperate," Clancy said.
LAST RESORT
Eventually, they turned to colistin. This powerful
antibiotic was largely abandoned in the 1960s for its toxic side
effects. Out of necessity, it has become in recent years a
weapon of last resort against the worsening superbug scourge.
But in some of the Alaska cases, even colistin didn't work.
For public health officials, that's the nightmare scenario.
"It's the worst of all possible worlds: You have a bacteria
that is good at establishing infection, and it can't be treated
with antibiotics," said Dr Robert Clifford, a microbiologist at
the Walter Reed Army Institute of Research who studied the
outbreak.
In early 2013, the infections stopped as mysteriously as
they had begun. By then, the virulent strain had infected 19
patients and contributed to the deaths of five of them. A sixth
died after contracting another highly resistant A. baumannii
strain.
The Alaska outbreak, and others like it that make headlines
with increasing frequency, illustrate a major weakness in the
fight against superbugs: The arsenal of antibiotics is nearly
empty. And significant financial and legal hurdles are getting
in the way of the already challenging process of discovering
effective new ones.
It's been 30 years since the discovery of a new class of
antibiotic that has hit the market. Each class is defined by its
chemical structure, which determines how it kills bacteria. The
longer an antibiotic is in use, the more time bacteria have to
develop resistance to it. Penicillin and its ilk date back to
World War Two, and resistance to this group is now widespread,
as it is becoming for other extant classes.
Thirty-seven antibiotics are currently undergoing clinical
trials, according to the Pew Charitable Trusts, which keeps
track of the U.S. pipeline. Most, however, are based on existing
drugs. While these derivatives are cheaper and easier to develop
than new classes of drugs, bacteria have a head start in
developing resistance to them.
Further, most drugs in the pipeline target so-called
Gram-positive bacteria, a group that includes the well-known
superbug methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA). But
recently, the main emerging threats have come from the group
known as Gram negatives, which are harder to treat because they
are encased in tough membranes that repel many drugs. Among
them: the lethal Acinetobacter that hit the Providence Alaska
Medical Center.
That's why colistin has seen a resurgence in use. It is
effective in particular against Gram-negative bacteria.
Prescriptions of the drug dispensed by long-term care facilities
and retail and online pharmacies increased 74 percent from 6,513
in 2005 to 11,322 in 2015, according to a Reuters analysis of
data provided by QuintilesIMS, a healthcare research and
services company in Durham, North Carolina. And those numbers
don't include prescriptions at regular acute-care hospitals.
Now, as happened in Alaska, doctors are encountering
superbugs that are developing resistance to colistin, too.
"We are losing the standoff with pathogens," said antibiotic
researcher Kim Lewis, a Northeastern University biochemist.
"Without antibiotics, essentially you do not have modern
medicine."
A TOUGH PATH
Previous stories in this series revealed how the lack of a
coherent national surveillance system hinders the ability of
federal and state public health officials to track what the U.S.
government 15 years ago called a grave threat to public health.
Hundreds of thousands of antibiotic-resistant infections and
tens of thousands of related deaths go uncounted each year. But
even if they were closely tracked, the lack of new drugs to meet
the rising tide of resistance means the toll will only mount.
To regain the advantage, medical science needs to overcome a
daunting set of hurdles.
Bringing a new drug to market can cost upward of a billion
dollars. The return on investment is much lower for antibiotics
than it is for drugs that patients take for years to treat
chronic conditions like high cholesterol or diabetes.
Antibiotics are typically prescribed for short periods, usually
seven to 14 days.
More recently, court rulings have made it difficult to
patent the natural compounds from which most antibiotics are
derived. And ironically, efforts to slow the development of
resistance by curbing prescriptions have further damped the
commercial allure of antibiotics.
Small wonder that Big Pharma has fled the business. In 1980,
36 large U.S. and European pharmaceutical companies were
involved in research into new antibiotics. Today, there are
four: Novartis AG, Merck & Co MRK.N , GlaxoSmithKline Plc
GSK.L and Sanofi SA, said Karen Bush, a biochemistry professor
at Indiana University Bloomington who studies the issue.
"It's all about the bottom line," Bush said.
To that end, Big Pharma tends to pump out new, more
expensive versions of existing drugs. In a study published in
May in the Annals of Internal Medicine, researchers found that
almost no antibiotics approved by the Food and Drug
Administration (FDA) since 2010 showed better results for
patient survival or disability than older, cheaper ones.
For example, Merck's Zerbaxa, a combination of drugs from
two existing classes, cost more than $2,000 for a weeklong
course to treat a urinary tract infection. That's nearly 3,000
times the roughly 67-cent cost of seven days of a generic,
levofloxacin, the study reported.
"As a group, these aren't the antibiotics that health
experts really need," said Kevin Outterson, a Boston University
law professor and co-author of the study. "None of them
represent a novel class. None of them are really a
breakthrough."
In an emailed statement to Reuters, Merck said it spends
significantly on research and development related to infectious
diseases "to address unmet public health needs." It cited a
clinical trial showing that Zerbaxa was effective against
urinary tract infections, including some that were resistant to
levofloxacin.
Small biotechnology start-ups have filled the void left by
Big Pharma. But these companies face the same hurdles. In
addition, they lack the cash to shepherd promising discoveries
through the multimillion-dollar process of clinical trials. The
venture capitalists and other private investors they rely on
expect returns in time frames shorter than scientific research
allows.
"Forces well outside of science and medicine can come to
bear and have disastrous consequences" on drug development, said
biochemist William DeGrado, a professor of pharmaceutical
chemistry at the University of California, San Francisco.
The company that he and a team at the University of
Pennsylvania founded 14 years ago to develop what would be the
first drug in a new class of antibiotic went bankrupt after
investor support withered. Under new owners, the drug is still
awaiting funding for clinical trials.
Government has attempted to prime the process. Under its
2014 national action plan to combat the superbug crisis,
President Barack Obama's administration got Congress to approve
increased funding for public health agencies.
The National Institutes of Health received a $100 million
increase, to about $413 million, in part for grants to fund work
on new antibiotics. And the Biomedical Advanced Research and
Development Authority (Barda), an office in the Department of
Health and Human Services that develops medical products for
emergencies, funds some trials and research. Barda also is
underwriting a program to support pre-trial work on promising
compounds.
In 2012, a new law empowered the FDA to designate certain
drugs "qualified infectious disease products." The drugs can get
priority review for approval, and if approved, may be eligible
for an additional five years of market exclusivity. Most of the
37 drugs now in the pipeline have received the designation.
In the four years since the law took effect, there has been
a "mild uptick in antibacterial drug development," the FDA said.
However, it added, "the pipeline remains very fragile."
STUCK IN THE PIPELINE
On a bright summer day in June 2000, William DeGrado
sketched a ribbon-like molecule on a piece of scrap paper.
It may not have looked like much, but it so excited the
biochemist and his team of fellow researchers at the University
of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia that they all signed the sketch
and set to work building the molecule in a laboratory.
The source of their excitement was the molecule's
resemblance to antimicrobial peptides, or AMPs. These tiny
proteins are produced by the body's own tissues as a first line
of defense against all sorts of infections. AMPs don't have to
enter a pathogen to kill it - they literally punch holes through
bacteria cell walls. That means they can kill both Gram-positive
and thick-skinned Gram-negative bugs.
Scientists have long recognized the potential of AMPs. But
previous efforts to turn the proteins into effective drugs
failed: The products were too costly, too toxic or too
chemically unstable. DeGrado's sketch suggested it was possible
to create a synthetic version of an AMP without those drawbacks.
"I thought, if it works, we've got a simple drug that would
be cheap to make that could go to the developing world and cure
all sorts of things," said Michael Klein, a computational
chemist who was tasked with creating computer models of the
molecule.
Within two years, they had formed a company, called
PolyMedix, and raised a few million dollars in funding from NIH
grants and private investors. Soon after, they obtained patents
and published their first scientific paper on the potential of
their new drug, eventually called brilacidin.
In early lab tests, the molecule showed potency against
bacteria known for resistance to powerful drugs, including Gram
positives and well-known Gram-negative killers Klebsiella
pneumoniae and Escherichia coli. Even more encouraging, testing
showed bacteria had little propensity to acquire resistance to
the drug.
BURNING THROUGH CASH
As they barreled toward clinical trials to test the safety
and efficacy of the drug, they raised more money by getting
PolyMedix listed on the over-the-counter market. "We believe it
is less likely that resistance will develop against our product
candidates compared with conventional antibiotic drugs," the
company told investors in 2006.
But the company was burning through cash. By 2012, after the
first phase II trials of brilacidin, PolyMedix had accumulated a
$96 million deficit, according to regulatory filings.
Investors grew impatient with the slow pace of the trials
and the fact that the drug proved more effective against
Gram-positive infections than harder-to-kill Gram negatives,
said Richard Scott, a PolyMedix founder.
On April 1, 2013, after defaulting on a loan, PolyMedix
declared bankruptcy. "It just didn't work, given the reality of
having to make progress in very short time periods (to offer) a
return on investment," Scott said.
Another small biotechnology company, Cellceutix Corp
CTIX.PK , paid $5 million in cash and stock for PolyMedix's
assets.
Cellceutix is housed in the first floor of a nondescript
gray building in the back of an office park in Beverly,
Massachusetts, near Boston - a far cry from the sprawling
research centers Big Pharma operates. On a recent November day,
just eight people were at work, out of total staff of 18.
In 2014, Cellceutix completed a second phase II trial of
brilacidin. It found that a single dose of the drug was as
effective against MRSA as a weeklong course of daptomycin, a
popular antibiotic widely used in hospitals against the
superbug.
A phase III trial - typically larger and more expensive than
earlier trials - has been planned for more than a year now. But
the company needs $30 million to move forward, chief scientist
Krishna Menon said. It's also seeking a special assessment from
the FDA to speed up the trial and approval process.
"We have the contractors, the medicine, the vials all ready!"
Menon said. "Everything is set."
Investors, however, haven't shown much interest in advancing
the process. Some sued the company last year, alleging that
Cellceutix misled them about the potency of brilacidin against
Gram-negative bugs. A judge in federal court in Manhattan threw
out the case last June, but the damage was done. Shares of
Cellceutix have dropped to around $1.15 from more than $4.50
after the successful phase II trial.
Meanwhile, scientific interest in the potential of AMPs has
only grown. A Ph.D student in Australia made international
headlines in September after she created an AMP-based molecule
that has the potential to kill Gram-negative pathogens,
including those resistant to colistin. But the research is still
in its earliest stages and far from clinical trials.
A BUILT-IN DOWNSIDE
Resistance can develop fast, and is made worse through
over-prescribing and misuse of drugs. To preserve existing
antibiotics, public health officials have urged hospitals and
doctors to implement "stewardship" programs to reduce
unnecessary prescriptions and hold critical drugs in reserve for
when others fail.
Beginning Jan. 1, 2017, the Joint Commission, the nonprofit
group that accredits U.S. healthcare facilities, will require
hospitals and nursing care centers to implement stewardship
programs. And the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services
proposed a rule in June that would require hospitals to have
stewardship programs to participate in the two huge government
insurance programs it administers. In 2014, California became
the first state to enact a law that mandates stewardship
programs.
Suburban Hospital, in Bethesda, Maryland, adopted a
stewardship program in July 2015 to comply with new Joint
Commission standards. In the first year, the hospital's
antibiotic use fell about 7 percent, said Julie Trivedi,
hospital epidemiologist and director of antimicrobial
stewardship. That saved the hospital nearly $200,000 on
antimicrobial drugs.
"Infectious disease is not like cardiology, where the latest
drug on the market is the one you want to use," Trivedi said.
"Infectious disease physicians drive that beat-up Beetle until
the car falls apart It's about utilizing the available drugs
before moving on to new drugs."
GlaxoSmithKline's most promising experimental antibiotic,
gepotidacin, is now in phase II clinical trials. If approved, it
will be used as a last resort against superbugs. The company has
been able to shepherd the drug through expensive research and
clinical trials with support from the federal Barda program,
said David Payne, head of GlaxoSmithKline's Antibacterial
Discovery Performance Unit.
But, he said, since the drug should be used only when it's
"desperately needed ... that creates a huge challenge in
creating a viable return on investment." He said the company has
invested roughly $1 billion in antibiotic research over the past
decade.
PAY DIRT
In early 2015, researchers Kim Lewis and Slava Epstein at
Northeastern University in Boston published an article in the
journal Nature announcing the discovery of teixobactin, a
compound that appeared to kill Gram-positive bacteria without
any indications of resistance.
Major media carried the news. The New York Times wrote that
teixobactin could "help solve an urgent global problem" by
ushering in a new class of antibiotic for the first time in
decades.
Since then, NovoBiotic Pharmaceuticals LLC, the Cambridge,
Massachusetts, company the researchers founded to commercialize
their products, has been receiving letters and emails from
people around the world.
"I have chronic urinary tract infection, and would like to
know when will be available teixobactin for sale?" wrote a
patient from Brazil. Another, from Romania, wrote: "I have some
big problems in my life because of staphylococcus aureus ... I
would like to participate in a program for testing."
"It's really sad," said NovoBiotic President Dallas Hughes,
"because I have to tell them we are two years away from clinical
trials." The company's researchers are still tinkering with how
the drug dissolves in blood, to make it suitable for use in
humans.
The excitement surrounding teixobactin isn't just about its
potential to kill bacteria. It's also about how the compound was
isolated - from a soil microbe that could not previously be
studied because it could not be grown in a lab.
Lewis and Epstein invented a way to cultivate it and other
previously out-of-reach soil and marine bacteria. Developed in
Epstein's lab, the isolation chip, or "iChip," holds out the
promise of unearthing all sorts of natural compounds that could
be turned into life-saving drugs.
STUCK IN THE GROUND
That innovation, which is patented, addresses a fundamental
issue that for decades has hindered development of new classes
of antibiotics.
Bacteria started showing resistance to penicillin as early
as 1940 - just 12 years after the drug's discovery, and even
before it was mass-produced to treat British and U.S. troops
during World War Two. That didn't cause much concern. New
classes of antibiotics were regularly coming to market, derived
mostly from compounds produced by bacteria.
But by the 1980s, scientists had pretty much exhausted the
supply of available compounds. Untold multitudes of potentially
beneficial compounds were locked away in bacteria that couldn't
be grown in a lab. That's a major reason why Big Pharma started
exiting antibiotic research in the 1980s, and why most
investment today goes toward developing drugs that are analogs
of old ones.
The iChip gets around the problem. Volunteers from across
the United States send soil to NovoBiotic to help its scientists
find new medicines. On a shelf in a back room of the company's
single-floor premises sit dozens of clear plastic bags of soil,
each labeled by location: "Jackson Falls, woods edge, New
Hampshire," "Warwick, RI, woods."
So far, NovoBiotic has isolated more than two dozen
compounds using iChip technology, though only teixobactin and
one other are being developed as possible drug candidates.
With teixobactin and the iChip, NovoBiotic has also
attracted $35 million from angel investors and through grants
from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation and the NIH.
But while NovoBiotic is benefiting from the federal
government's efforts to promote drug development, it and other
biotech companies are also confronting a new legal impediment.
Two U.S. Supreme Court rulings, in 2012 and 2013, have made
it harder to patent products derived from nature. The cases
dealt with patent protection for human genes and blood products.
But the court's decisions have been interpreted more broadly to
limit intellectual property rights on all sorts of natural
phenomena, including chemicals with antibiotic properties.
About 70 percent of the bacteria-fighting drugs approved
worldwide since 1981 are natural products or derived from them,
according to David Newman, former chief of the natural products
branch at the National Cancer Institute, who continues to
publish studies on the topic.
But since 2014, the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office has
been rejecting applications for patents on natural products.
A patent allows for a limited time period of exclusive sales
during which investors and companies can recoup their
development costs. Without a patent, "anyone and your uncle can
make the drug and sell it for less, so why take it to market?"
said Ronald Evens, a researcher at the Tufts Center for the
Study of Drug Development.
In NovoBiotic's first attempt to patent teixobactin, in
2014, the patent office said it was "an isolated compound from
nature" and not eligible for protection. The agency allowed
NovoBiotic to patent only the method of treating patients,
according to documents reviewed by Reuters.
That means the company holds a patent on specific uses, like
administering the drug at a certain dosage, intravenously, for
MRSA.
The company in August obtained a second teixobactin-related
patent, this time as a "pharmaceutical composition,"
incorporating other ingredients mixed with the drug itself.
Such patents offer less protection from rivals that design a
drug based on the same natural compound but using different
mixtures and treatment methods. "Under these circumstances, if
someone were to make just the compound, they would not infringe"
on the patent, said biotechnology patent lawyer Kevin Noonan, a
partner at Chicago-based firm McDonnell Boehnen Hulbert &
Berghoff.
TOO MUCH LIKE NATURE
Some lawyers and doctors argue that fewer protections could
promote scientific research by eliminating the monopolies
patents create. But for biotech companies like NovoBiotic, the
difficulty of obtaining patents on natural compounds could be
problematic for drug development.
Brilacidin, the drug that Cellceutix is working on, is safe.
It was patented before the rulings, and besides, it isn't a
natural compound but merely mimics one. But rejections are
hitting others seeking to patent AMPs or close copies of them.
In August, the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office rejected an
application by a medical research arm of a foundation associated
with German auto supplier Robert Bosch Gmbh to patent a fragment
of a human AMP called defensin. In its application, the
foundation cited its own research showing that the molecule was
effective against Gram-negative and Gram-positive bacteria,
non-toxic and easy to manufacture.
The patent officer examining the case said it was not
"markedly different from what exists in nature."
Federal courts are in accord with the patent office. In six
of seven cases in which natural products or diagnostic tests
were at issue since 2012, courts have either canceled or
rejected the patents. The Supreme Court has signaled its
agreement with the trend so far, declining to review one case
that had been appealed to the high court earlier this year.
"Research and development is complex, risky and expensive,"
said Corey Salsberg, head of intellectual property policy at
Novartis, who wrote a brief for the Supreme Court on the topic.
By restricting what drugs can be patented, he says, "you're
telling companies 'Don't bother putting your resources here.'"
<^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
WEB VERSION: As 'superbugs' strengthen, an alarming lack of new
drugs to fight them
www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/usa-uncounted-drugs/
GRAPHIC: Dry spell http://tmsnrt.rs/2h2gBR8
GRAPHIC: Pharma's big retreat http://tmsnrt.rs/2h2e3mc
GRAPHIC: Slow drip http://tmsnrt.rs/2h2iFbR
A most unwanted list: 'superbugs' up close http://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/usa-uncounted-cdc/
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^>
(Reporting by Andrew Chung in Boston, Yasmeen Abutaleb in San
Francisco and Deborah J. Nelson in Washington. Additional
reporting by Ryan McNeill in New York. Edited by John Blanton)
((john.blanton@thomsonreuters.com;))
Keywords: USA UNCOUNTED/DRUGS (SPECIAL REPORT, SPECIAL REPOR