04/03/2003
Delivering the Goods
I’ve just read a bit of Tom Brokaw’s book “A Long Way from Home. Growing Up in the American Heartland”. Brokaw credits his small town South Dakota upbringing as preparing him well for his very successful career in the news media. Although born in Denver, Colorado I spent my most formative years in a small town, Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania. Last week I received a letter from Jack, a resident of Mechanicsburg whom I knew as a kid. Jack has taken upon himself the mission of compiling a list of all Mechanicsburg High School Alumni who were in the service during World War II. (I was not in the service. By the time I passed my draft physical, the war had been called off.) The letter was a form letter but Jack had added a note: “I remember that you were a good pitcher in our baseball games in ‘the field’.”
“The field” was an empty, overgrown lot across the street from Jack’s family’s house and we kids, with some assistance from parents, had chopped down little trees, bushes and weeds and made the lot into a quite satisfactory baseball field. I did have a bit of a curve ball and a knuckleball and could employ overhand or sidearm deliveries. I carry in my mouth a souvenir of my pitching days on “the field”. The batter hit a popup that both the catcher and I went after and his mask hit my jaw, knocking off part of a tooth. The original porcelain filling is still in that tooth, almost six decades later! Jack’s letter also brought to mind the only time I’ve been knocked out. It was a pitched ball that hit me squarely between the eyes and I was carried over to Jack’s backyard, where I regained consciousness. The pitch was delivered by the high school pitcher, who threw an unanticipated curve ball that just tipped the undersize catcher’s mitt I was wearing.
Since those early days, other forms of delivery have come to concern me more. Back in those days, I don’t recall my parents taking many, if any pills or vitamins. Today I find myself taking 5 pills in the morning (multivitamin, vitamins E and C, CoQ 10 and Hyzaar for blood pressure) and one at night (Zocor for cholesterol). Some friends take two to three times as many different medications daily. I imagine that very few of us think about what happens after we swallow those pills or about the delivery of their contents to the appropriate areas of our bodies to do the most good.
I was drawn to the subject of drug delivery by an article by Robert Langer, Professor of Chemical and Biomedical Engineering at MIT, in the April 2003 issue of Scientific American. What caught my attention in the article, titled “Where a Pill Won’t Reach”, was the opening illustration of someone popping a pill into his or her mouth. The sex wasn’t clear because the body was portrayed as one complex maze, illustrating that finding the right path for drug delivery may not be easy. I was also taken by the illustrator’s rather unusual name, Slim Films!
For a drug to be effective, it typically has to find its way into the bloodstream. To get there, it has get to the intestine. This means the pill has to survive a trip through the stomach, which is loaded with acid that could tear up the drug. The pill designer solves this problem by coating the drug with a material that doesn’t dissolve in the acid but that does dissolve in the more alkaline environment of the intestine. Once the coating dissolves, the drug has to pass through or between the mucosal cells that line the walls of the intestine. Once they’ve cleared the intestine, it’s clear sailing into the bloodstream.
Once in the bloodstream, the drug has to go through the liver and survive the filtering that goes on in that organ. During all this, the drug also has to avoid being degraded by a variety of enzymes that like to chop molecules up into little pieces. There’s also the matter of timing. Some drugs can be toxic if they are too concentrated in the bloodstream or if they stick around too long in the bloodstream. With the older drugs, these problems have been solved with suitable pill coatings and pill design.
In the past, most of the common drugs have been small molecules that can worm their way through the intestinal walls. However, the newer drugs emerging from biotechnology companies are usually proteins. These proteins are large molecules that not only can’t pass easily through the intestinal walls but also tend to be degraded by so-called proteases, enzymes that love to chop up proteins. The answer to this last problem is to put “bodyguards” in the pill. The bodyguards are so-called “protease inhibitors”. These protease inhibitors do a good job of fending off the protein-wrecking enzymes but don’t help out with the fact that the protein drugs are still large molecules and have to get through the lining of your gut.
One obvious answer to these problems is simple – change the mode of delivery by injecting the drug directly into the bloodstream. Of course, many diabetics have been doing just that for eight decades, following the publication in1922 of the discovery of insulin by Sir Frederick Banting and others. In a remarkably prompt recognition of the importance of insulin’s discovery, Banting and James Macleod received the Nobel Prize for medicine in 1923. Clearly, taking a pill is vastly preferable to having to inject oneself once or more a day with insulin. The problem is how to usher the insulin and other large molecule drugs through the lining of your gut.
One approach to this problem is to coat the drug with what’s known as a “bioadhesive polymer”. This is a polymer that sticks tightly to the mucosal cells that bar drug’s passage through the intestine. There’s a lot of chemistry involved but animal tests are encouraging in that a particular bioadhesive compound can be combined with insulin and bind to the intestinal wall sufficiently tightly that the insulin can be released through the wall and sped on its way to the bloodstream.
Another approach employs some trickery. Certain intestinal cells have special receptors on them that latch onto vitamin B12 as it passes through the intestine. The vitamin B12 is then transported through the wall. A fellow in Australia, Gregory Russell-Jones, found that he could attach a protein to vitamin B12 and the receptor would be tricked into taking up the protein along with the B12. The problem is that there may not be enough of these receptors in the intestine to sneak in the required dosage of a drug. Work is now going on to find other, more numerous receptors for other substances than B12 to target.
A third approach, somewhat along the same lines, is to coat the protein-based drug with “carrier” molecules. Certain of these carrier molecules seem to squeeze the proteins into a smaller shape so the mucosal cells don’t even know the drug is there. Once the carrier has breached the cell wall it releases the drug, which resumes its normal, active shape and goes on to do its job.
These approaches are in various stages of development. However, the oral pill-popping delivery of drugs is not the only approach. There’s the inhaling, or lung delivery, approach. The lungs have microscopic sacs, “alveoli”, which are connected directly to blood vessels. We’re all using these alveoli even as we speak, breathing in oxygen for delivery to the bloodstream and exhaling carbon dioxide from the bloodstream. So, why not inhale aerosols of fine particles of drugs? This is the principle behind the inhalers for asthmatics. But, there’s a problem.
It’s not easy to get enough sufficiently fine particles of a drug into the deep recesses of the lungs to do the job. The process is very wasteful. Asthma inhalers, for example, only deliver 10 percent of their drug content to the lungs. If the particular drug is very expensive, the cost of a dose might be prohibitively high. There are at least two approaches to this delivery problem. One seems intuitively obvious, to decrease the size of the particles in the mist delivered by the inhaler. Various researchers are following this approach and some inhaler devices for delivering insulin are being tested in diabetics.
David A. Edwards of Harvard, a former postdoctoral fellow with Langer at MIT, took just the opposite approach, based on the analogy of wet basketballs and wet grains of sand. The wet sand grains will tend to stick together and agglomerate to form bigger particles but wet basketballs won’t! His reasoning was that, instead of a mist of fine particles, make a mist of fewer, larger and more porous particles. (Most of a basketball’s volume is air.) There’s another factor I didn’t mention – the lungs also contain macrophages, cells that go after intruders such as drugs and destroy them. The reasoning was that the macrophages wouldn’t go after large particles, but prefer to engulf smaller intruders, as in a fine mist. In animal tests, a single dose of a large-particle insulin aerosol has been shown to last four days. This approach is also being tested in human subjects.
Well, we haven’t even gotten to another form of drug delivery, the patch. Maybe next week.
Allen F. Bortrum
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