Open Wide for Pasty’s Throat

 

Once upon a time (1903 to be exact) a very rich Adelaide family acquired a new member in the form of a little boy whom they christened Norman. Most of the family were doctors and, so well-heeled were they, when young Norm reached the age of 10 they clubbed together and sent him off to the Old Country – and not just to any bit of Merrie England but to Eton (the school, of course, not the rustic parish, generally held to be the most expensive of all – fees currently about £36,000 a year, not counting extras). Norm never returned: South Australia’s loss was Britain’s gain.

We all know what happens to kids that go to Eton – but our Adelaide man was different. For one thing he was very bright and for another he had his family’s love of medicine. He ended up specializing in the thorax – the bit between the neck and the tummy that includes the oesophagus, commonly known as the foodpipe or gullet. Eton probably helped get him started but, even more usefully, some bright spark there gave him the nickname ‘Pasty’ – so great an improvement on Norman that it stuck for life. ‘Pasty’ Barrett ended up as a consultant at St. Thomas’ Hospital where, in 1947, he successfully repaired a ruptured oesophagus – a surgical first for a hitherto fatal condition.

Shortly after that, in 1950, he described finding that sometimes the cells lining the gullet change in appearance, switching from multiple layers of flat cells to a single layer of cells that look like those found in the intestine. We know now that this change is caused by acid from the stomach being squeezed up into the oesophagus. Occasional regurgitation is called heartburn but when it’s persistent it becomes gastric reflux disease – and in about 10% of those cases sustained irritation caused by the stomach juices upsets the cells lining the gullet and they undergo the change to what is now called Barrett’s oesophagus.

Who cares about Barrett’s?

Well, we should all at least take note because a few percent of those with Barrett’s oesophagus will get cancer of the oesophagus, which is now the sixth most common cause of cancer-related death world-wide. Oesophageal cancer has become more common over the last 40 years, men are more prone to it than women and it kills about 15,000 people in the USA each year and nearly 8,000 in the UK. It’s very bad news. Most cases aren’t discovered until the disease has spread and it is then more or less untreatable. The prognosis is dismal: the five-year survival figure is barely 15%. Part of the problem is that the main sign is pain or difficulty in swallowing, often ignored until it is too late.

For many years the only way of finding abnormal tissue was by an endoscopy – a tube with a camera pushed down the throat – both unpleasant and expensive. There has, therefore, been a desperate need for an easy, cheap, non-invasive test to screen for Barrett’s oesophagus.

Professor Rebecca Fitzgerald

     Professor Rebecca             Fitzgerald

Pill on a string

Enter Rebecca Fitzgerald, a member of the Department of Oncology in Cambridge and a consultant at Addenbrooke’s Hospital, with a brilliantly simple development from earlier attempts to screen the lining of the gullet. The patient swallows a kind of tea-bag on a string which is then pulled up from the stomach. The ‘tea-bag’ is actually a capsule about the size of a multi-vitamin pill containing a sort of honeycomb sponge covered with a coating that dissolves in a few minutes when it reaches the stomach. As the sponge comes up it picks up cells from the gullet lining (about half a million of them) that can then be analysed. The whole gizmo’s called a ‘Cytosponge’. It works with no problems and because it collects cells from the length of the gullet it gives a complete picture, rather than the local regions sampled in biopsies.

Pill on a string

                 Pill on a string

Cytosponge (left) and being drawn up the gullet (right)

       Cytosponge (left) and being             drawn up the gullet (right)

 

 

 

 

 

What we’ve learned

The hope was that the cells picked up by Cytosponge could be sequenced – i.e. their DNA code could be obtained – and that this would reveal the stages of oesophageal cancer development and hence whether a given case of Barrett’s would or would not progress to cancer. The phases of Barrett’s oesophagus involve a change in the shape of cells lining the tube (from thin, flat cells called squamous epithelial cells to taller columnar cells resembling those in the intestine). This change is called metaplasia: the abnormal cells may then proliferate (dysplasia). If this stage can be detected it’s possible to remove the abnormal tissue by using endoscopic therapy before the condition progresses to full carcinoma.

Remarkably, whole-genome sequences from Barrett’s and from oesophageal carcinoma showed that multiple mutations (changes in DNA sequence) accumulate even in cells that are over-proliferating but look normal. The picture is similar to the ‘battlefield of hundreds of competing mutant clones’ in normal eyelid skin that we saw in The Blink of an Eye.

As the condition progresses the range of mutations increases: in particular, regions of DNA are duplicated – so that the genes therein are present in abnormal numbers. Typically there were 12,000 mutations per person with Barrett’s oesophagus without cancer and 18,000 mutations within the cancer.

Even from this mayhem there emerged mutation patterns (changes in the letters of the DNA code, e.g., A to a G or C to a T) characteristic of the damage caused to the cells lining the oesophagus by splashing stomach acid. These ‘fingerprints’ were found in both Barrett’s and oesophageal cancer – consistent with them being very early events – parallelling the specific mutations in lung cancer caused by tobacco carcinogens.

But …

The great hope was that the spectrum of mutations would identify precursors to cancer and hence those patients requiring treatment. In fact these horribly heterogeneous tissues – a real genetic gemisch – show surprisingly little mutational overlap between Barrett’s oesophagus and oesophageal cancer.

However, it’s possible to take the cells collected by the Cytosponge and screen them for the presence of specific proteins (using antibodies) and it turns out that one in particular, TFF3 (Trefoil Factor 3), provides a highly accurate diagnosis of Barrett’s oesophagus. In addition, although the genetic changes that occur during the progression from Barrett’s to cancer are complex, mutations in one gene (P53 – the ‘guardian of the genome’) are common in pre-cancerous, high grade dysplasia and thus provide an indicator of risk.

All of which means that we haven’t ‘conquered’ oesophageal cancer – but thanks to these remarkable advances we have a much better understanding of its molecular basis. Even more importantly, it’s possible to detect the early stages – and do something about it.

AND … whilst making a major contribution to all this, Rebecca Fitzgerald very kindly found time to make suggestions and provide additional information for this piece.

References

Ross-Innes, C.S., Fitzgerald, R.C. et al. (2015). Nature Genetics 47, 1038-1046.

 

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Pass the Aspirin

And so you should if you’ve got a headache – unless, of course, you prefer paracetamol. There can scarcely be anyone who hasn’t resorted to a dose of slightly modified salicylic acid (For the chemists: its hydroxyl group is converted into an ester group (R-OH → R-OCOCH3) in aspirin), given that the world gobbles up an estimated 40,000 tonnes of the stuff every year. It’s arguable, therefore, that an obscure clergyman by the name of Edward Stone has done more for human suffering than pretty well anyone, for it was he who, in 1763, made a powder from the bark of willow trees and discovered its wondrous property. The bark and leaves had actually been used for centuries – back at least to the time of Hippocrates – for reducing pain and fever, although it wasn’t until 1899 that Aspirin made its debut on the market and it was 1971 before John Vane discovered how it actually worked. He got a Nobel Prize for showing that it blocks production of things called prostaglandins that act a bit like hormones to regulate inflammation (for the chemists – again! – it irreversibly inactivates the enzyme cyclooxygenase, known as COX to its pals).

Daily pill popping

Aside from fixing the odd ache, over the years evidence has gradually accumulated that people at high risk of heart attack and those who have survived a heart attack should take a low-dose of aspirin every day. In addition to decreasing inflammation (by blocking prostaglandins) aspirin inhibits the formation of blood clots – so helping to prevent heart attack and stroke. Almost as a side-effect the studies that have lead to this being a firm recommendation have also shown that aspirin may reduce the risk of cancers, particularly of the bowel (colorectal cancer). Notably, Peter Rothwell and colleagues from Oxford showed that daily aspirin taken for 10 years reduced the risk of bowel cancer by 24% and also protected against oesophageal cancer – and a more recent analysis has broadly supported these findings. In addition they have also found that aspirin lowers the risk of cancers spreading around the body, i.e. forming distant metastases.

Why is aspirin giving us a headache – again?

First because a large amount of media coverage has been given to a report from Leiden University Medical Center, presented at The European Cancer Congress in September, that used Dutch records to see whether taking aspirin after being diagnosed with gastrointestinal cancer influenced survival. Their conclusion was that patients using aspirin after diagnosis doubled their survival chances compared with those who did not take aspirin. Needless to say, these words have been trumpeted by newspapers from The Times to the Daily Mail in the usual fashion (“Aspirin could almost double your chance of surviving cancer”). Unfortunately we can’t lay all the blame on the press: the authors of the report used the tactic of issuing a Press Release, a thoroughly reprehensible ploy for gaining attention when the work involved has not been peer reviewed. (The point here for non-scientists is that you can stand up at a meeting and say the moon’s made of blue cheese and it’s fine. Only after your work has been assessed by colleagues in the course of the normal publication process does it begin to have some credibility). So there’s a problem here, with what was an ‘observational study’, as to just what the findings mean – and the wise thing is to wait for the results of a ‘randomised controlled trial’ that is under way. 

The second source of mental strain is down to the ferociously named United States Preventive Services Task Force that has just (September 2015) come up with the recommendation that we should take aspirin to prevent bowel cancer. Why should we pay any attention? Because the ‘Force’ are appointed by the US Department of Health and they wield great influence upon medical practice – and because it’s the first time a major American medical organization has issued a broad recommendation to take aspirin to prevent a form of cancer.

In this latest oeuvre they confirm that the well-known risks attached to aspirin-eating (ulcers and stomach bleeding) are out-weighed by the protection against heart disease in those between the ages of 50 and 69 who are at high risk (e.g., have a history of heart attacks). If you feel your heart can take the strain you can find out your risk by using the National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute’s online risk assessment tool. To get an answer you need to know your age, sex (i.e. gender, as its called these days), cholesterol levels (total and high density lipoproteins, HDLs – they’re the ‘good’ cholesterol), whether you smoke and your systolic blood pressure (that’s the X in X/Y).

This is such a critical issue it’s worth seeing what the Task Force actually said: “The USPSTF recommends low-dose aspirin use for the primary prevention of cardiovascular disease (CVD) and colorectal cancer in adults ages 50 to 59 years who have a 10% or greater 10-year CVD risk, are not at increased risk for bleeding, have a life expectancy of at least 10 years, and are willing to take low-dose aspirin daily for at least 10 years.”

If you’re younger than 50 or over 70 you’re on your own: the Force doesn’t recommend anything. And if you’re 60 to 69 the wording of their advice is wonderfully delicate: The decision to use low-dose aspirin to prevent CVD (cardiovascular disease) and colorectal cancer in adults ages 60 to 69 years who have a greater than 10% 10-year CVD risk should be an individual one.”

So that’s cleared that up …

Er, not quite. Various luminaries have been quick to demur. For example, Dr. Steven Nissen, the chairman of cardiology at the Cleveland Clinic has opined that the Task Force “has gotten it wrong.” In other words aspirin does more harm than good – though he might be a bit late as seemingly an astonishing 40% of Americans over the age of 50 take aspirin to prevent cardiovascular disease. I reckon that’s about 40 million people. Mmm … so that’s where the 40,000 tonnes goes (well, about one-fifth of it).

What’s the advice?

We’re more or less where we came in. I take an aspirin, or more usually a paracetamol, when I’ve got a stonking headache. Otherwise I wouldn’t take any kind of pill or supplement unless there is an overwhelming medical case for so doing. And pill-poppers out there might note the findings of Eva Saedder and her pals at Aarhus University that the single, strongest independent risk factor for drug-induced serious adverse events is the number of drugs that the patient is taking.

References

Rothwell, P. et al. (2012). Short-term effects of daily aspirin on cancer incidence, mortality, and non-vascular death: analysis of the time course of risks and benefits in 51 randomised controlled trials, Lancet DOI:1016/S0140-6736(11)61720-0

Rothwell P. et al. (2012). Effect of daily aspirin on risk of cancer metastasis: a study of incident cancers during randomised controlled trial, Lancet DOI:1016/S0140-6736(12)60209-8

Lancet editorial on Rothwell et al. 2011.

Algra, A. and Rothwell, P. (2012). Effects of regular aspirin on long-term cancer incidence and metastasis: a systematic comparison of evidence from observational studies versus randomised trials, Lancet Oncology DOI:10.1016/S1470-2045(12)70112-2.

Frouws M et al. Aspirin and gastro intestinal malignancies; improved survival not only in colorectal cancer? Conference abstract. European Cancer Congress 2015

Press release: Post diagnosis aspirin improves survival in all gastrointestinal cancers. The European Cancer Congress 2015. September 23 2015

Cuzick J, Thorat MA, Bosetti C, et al. Estimates of benefits and harms of prophylactic use of aspirin in the general population. Annals of Oncology. Published online August 5 2014

U.S. Preventive Services Task Force Draft Recommendation Statement: Aspirin to Prevent Cardiovascular Disease and Cancer

Saedder, E.A. et al. (2015). Number of drugs most frequently found to be independent risk factors for serious adverse reactions: a systematic literature review. British Journal of Clinical Pharmacology 80, 808–817.