Family Practice News

TOPLINE:

Consumption of ultraprocessed foods (UPFs), such as carbonated drinks, processed meats, and sweet or savory packaged snacks, is associated with accelerated biological aging, as measured by 36 blood-based biomarkers, and factors other than poor nutritional content may be to blame.

METHODOLOGY:

• Previous studies have reported an association between high consumption of UPFs and some measures of early biological aging, such as shorter telomere length, cognitive decline, and frailty, but the relationship is largely unexplored so far, including exactly how UPFs may harm health.
• To examine the association between UPF consumption and biological aging, researchers conducted a cross-sectional analysis of 22,495 participants (mean chronological age, 55.6 years; 52% women) from the Moli-sani Study in Italy, who were recruited between 2005 and 2010.
• Food intake was assessed with a food frequency questionnaire that covered 188 different food items, each of which was categorized into one of four groups based on the extent of processing, ranging from minimally processed foods, such as fruits, vegetables, meat and fish, to UPFs.
• UPF intake was determined by weight, using the ratio of UPFs to the total weight of food and beverages (g/d), and participants were categorized into sex-specific fifths according to the proportion of UPFs in their total food intake. Diet quality was also evaluated using the Mediterranean Diet Score.
• Biological age was computed using a deep neural network approach based on 36 circulating blood biomarkers, and the mean difference between the mean biological and chronological ages was analyzed.

TAKEAWAY:

• The mean difference between biological and chronological ages of the participants was –0.70 years.
• Higher intake of UPFs was associated with accelerated biological aging compared with the lowest intake (regression coefficient, 0.34; 95% CI, 0.08-0.61), with a mean difference between the biological and chronological ages of −4.1 years and 1.6 years in those with the lowest and highest intakes, respectively.
• The association between UPF consumption and biological aging was nonlinear (P = .049 for nonlinearity). The association tended to be stronger in men than in women, but this was not statistically significant.
• Including the Mediterranean Diet Score in the model slightly attenuated the association by 9.1%, indicating that poor nutritional content was likely to explain a small part of the underlying mechanism.

IN PRACTICE:

“Our results showed that the UPFs–biological aging association was weakly explained by the poor nutritional composition of these highly processed foods, suggesting that biological aging could be mainly influenced by non-nutrient food characteristics, which include altered food matrix, contact materials and neo-formed compounds,” the authors wrote.

 

SOURCE:

The study was led by Simona Esposito, Research Unit of Epidemiology and Prevention, IRCCS Neuromed, Isernia, Italy. It was published online in The American Journal of Clinical Nutrition.

 

LIMITATIONS:

The cross-sectional design of the study limited the ability to determine the temporal directionality of the association, and the observational nature of the study limited the ability to establish the causality between UPF consumption and biological aging. The use of self-reported dietary data may have introduced recall bias. The study population was limited to adults from Central-Southern Italy, which may affect the generalizability of the findings.

 

DISCLOSURES:

The study was developed within the project funded by the Next Generation European Union “Age-It — Ageing well in an ageing society” project, National Recovery and Resilience Plan. The analyses were partially supported by the Italian Ministry of Health. The authors declared no conflicts of interest.

This article was created using several editorial tools, including AI, as part of the process. Human editors reviewed this content before publication. A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

TOPLINE:

Consumption of ultraprocessed foods (UPFs), such as carbonated drinks, processed meats, and sweet or savory packaged snacks, is associated with accelerated biological aging, as measured by 36 blood-based biomarkers, and factors other than poor nutritional content may be to blame.

METHODOLOGY:

• Previous studies have reported an association between high consumption of UPFs and some measures of early biological aging, such as shorter telomere length, cognitive decline, and frailty, but the relationship is largely unexplored so far, including exactly how UPFs may harm health.
• To examine the association between UPF consumption and biological aging, researchers conducted a cross-sectional analysis of 22,495 participants (mean chronological age, 55.6 years; 52% women) from the Moli-sani Study in Italy, who were recruited between 2005 and 2010.
• Food intake was assessed with a food frequency questionnaire that covered 188 different food items, each of which was categorized into one of four groups based on the extent of processing, ranging from minimally processed foods, such as fruits, vegetables, meat and fish, to UPFs.
• UPF intake was determined by weight, using the ratio of UPFs to the total weight of food and beverages (g/d), and participants were categorized into sex-specific fifths according to the proportion of UPFs in their total food intake. Diet quality was also evaluated using the Mediterranean Diet Score.
• Biological age was computed using a deep neural network approach based on 36 circulating blood biomarkers, and the mean difference between the mean biological and chronological ages was analyzed.

TAKEAWAY:

• The mean difference between biological and chronological ages of the participants was –0.70 years.
• Higher intake of UPFs was associated with accelerated biological aging compared with the lowest intake (regression coefficient, 0.34; 95% CI, 0.08-0.61), with a mean difference between the biological and chronological ages of −4.1 years and 1.6 years in those with the lowest and highest intakes, respectively.
• The association between UPF consumption and biological aging was nonlinear (P = .049 for nonlinearity). The association tended to be stronger in men than in women, but this was not statistically significant.
• Including the Mediterranean Diet Score in the model slightly attenuated the association by 9.1%, indicating that poor nutritional content was likely to explain a small part of the underlying mechanism.

IN PRACTICE:

“Our results showed that the UPFs–biological aging association was weakly explained by the poor nutritional composition of these highly processed foods, suggesting that biological aging could be mainly influenced by non-nutrient food characteristics, which include altered food matrix, contact materials and neo-formed compounds,” the authors wrote.

 

SOURCE:

The study was led by Simona Esposito, Research Unit of Epidemiology and Prevention, IRCCS Neuromed, Isernia, Italy. It was published online in The American Journal of Clinical Nutrition.

 

LIMITATIONS:

The cross-sectional design of the study limited the ability to determine the temporal directionality of the association, and the observational nature of the study limited the ability to establish the causality between UPF consumption and biological aging. The use of self-reported dietary data may have introduced recall bias. The study population was limited to adults from Central-Southern Italy, which may affect the generalizability of the findings.

 

DISCLOSURES:

The study was developed within the project funded by the Next Generation European Union “Age-It — Ageing well in an ageing society” project, National Recovery and Resilience Plan. The analyses were partially supported by the Italian Ministry of Health. The authors declared no conflicts of interest.

This article was created using several editorial tools, including AI, as part of the process. Human editors reviewed this content before publication. A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

TOPLINE:

Consumption of ultraprocessed foods (UPFs), such as carbonated drinks, processed meats, and sweet or savory packaged snacks, is associated with accelerated biological aging, as measured by 36 blood-based biomarkers, and factors other than poor nutritional content may be to blame.

METHODOLOGY:

• Previous studies have reported an association between high consumption of UPFs and some measures of early biological aging, such as shorter telomere length, cognitive decline, and frailty, but the relationship is largely unexplored so far, including exactly how UPFs may harm health.
• To examine the association between UPF consumption and biological aging, researchers conducted a cross-sectional analysis of 22,495 participants (mean chronological age, 55.6 years; 52% women) from the Moli-sani Study in Italy, who were recruited between 2005 and 2010.
• Food intake was assessed with a food frequency questionnaire that covered 188 different food items, each of which was categorized into one of four groups based on the extent of processing, ranging from minimally processed foods, such as fruits, vegetables, meat and fish, to UPFs.
• UPF intake was determined by weight, using the ratio of UPFs to the total weight of food and beverages (g/d), and participants were categorized into sex-specific fifths according to the proportion of UPFs in their total food intake. Diet quality was also evaluated using the Mediterranean Diet Score.
• Biological age was computed using a deep neural network approach based on 36 circulating blood biomarkers, and the mean difference between the mean biological and chronological ages was analyzed.

TAKEAWAY:

• The mean difference between biological and chronological ages of the participants was –0.70 years.
• Higher intake of UPFs was associated with accelerated biological aging compared with the lowest intake (regression coefficient, 0.34; 95% CI, 0.08-0.61), with a mean difference between the biological and chronological ages of −4.1 years and 1.6 years in those with the lowest and highest intakes, respectively.
• The association between UPF consumption and biological aging was nonlinear (P = .049 for nonlinearity). The association tended to be stronger in men than in women, but this was not statistically significant.
• Including the Mediterranean Diet Score in the model slightly attenuated the association by 9.1%, indicating that poor nutritional content was likely to explain a small part of the underlying mechanism.

IN PRACTICE:

“Our results showed that the UPFs–biological aging association was weakly explained by the poor nutritional composition of these highly processed foods, suggesting that biological aging could be mainly influenced by non-nutrient food characteristics, which include altered food matrix, contact materials and neo-formed compounds,” the authors wrote.

 

SOURCE:

The study was led by Simona Esposito, Research Unit of Epidemiology and Prevention, IRCCS Neuromed, Isernia, Italy. It was published online in The American Journal of Clinical Nutrition.

 

LIMITATIONS:

The cross-sectional design of the study limited the ability to determine the temporal directionality of the association, and the observational nature of the study limited the ability to establish the causality between UPF consumption and biological aging. The use of self-reported dietary data may have introduced recall bias. The study population was limited to adults from Central-Southern Italy, which may affect the generalizability of the findings.

 

DISCLOSURES:

The study was developed within the project funded by the Next Generation European Union “Age-It — Ageing well in an ageing society” project, National Recovery and Resilience Plan. The analyses were partially supported by the Italian Ministry of Health. The authors declared no conflicts of interest.

This article was created using several editorial tools, including AI, as part of the process. Human editors reviewed this content before publication. A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Patients who discontinue treatment with the osteoporosis drug denosumab, despite transitioning to zoledronate, show significant losses in lumbar spine bone mineral density (BMD) within a year, according to the latest findings to show that the rapid rebound of bone loss after denosumab discontinuation is not easily prevented with other therapies — even bisphosphonates.

“When initiating denosumab for osteoporosis treatment, it is recommended to engage in thorough shared decision-making with the patient to ensure they understand the potential risks associated with discontinuing the medication,” senior author Shau-Huai Fu, MD, PhD, Department of Orthopedics, National Taiwan University Hospital Yunlin Branch, Douliu, told this news organization.

Furthermore, “integrating a case manager system is crucial to support long-term adherence and compliance,” he added.

The results are from the Denosumab Sequential Therapy prospective, open-label, parallel-group randomized clinical trial, published online in JAMA Network Open.

In the study, 101 patients were recruited between April 2019 and May 2021 at a referral center and two hospitals in Taiwan. The patients, including postmenopausal women and men over the age of 50, had been treated with regular denosumab for at least 2 years and had no previous exposure to other anti-osteoporosis medication.

They were randomized to treatment either with continuous denosumab at the standard dose of 60 mg twice yearly or to discontinue denosumab and receive the standard intravenous dose of the bisphosphonate zoledronate at 5 mg at the time when the next dose of denosumab would have been administered.

There were no differences between the two groups in serum bone turnover markers at baseline.

The current results, reflecting the first year of the 2-year study, show that, overall, those receiving zoledronate (n = 76), had a significant decrease in lumbar spine BMD, compared with a slight increase in the denosumab continuation group (–0.68% vs 1.30%, respectively; P = .03).

No significant differences were observed between the groups in terms of the study’s other measures of total hip BMD (median, 0% vs 1.12%; P = .24), and femoral neck BMD (median, 0.18% vs 0.17%; P = .71).

Additional findings from multivariable analyses in the study also supported results from previous studies showing that a longer duration of denosumab use is associated with a more substantial rebound effect: Among 15 of the denosumab users in the study who had ≥ 3 prior years of the drug, the reduction in lumbar spine BMD was even greater with zoledronate compared with denosumab continuation (–3.20% vs 1.30%; P = .003).

Though the lack of losses in the other measures of total hip and femoral neck BMD may seem encouraging, evidence from the bulk of other studies suggests cautious interpretation of those findings, Fu said.

“Although our study did not observe a noticeable decline in total hip or femoral neck BMD, other randomized controlled trials with longer durations of denosumab use have reported significant reductions in these areas,” Fu said. “Therefore, it cannot be assumed that non-lumbar spine regions are entirely safe.”

 

Fracture Risk Is the Overriding Concern

Meanwhile, the loss of lumbar spine BMD is of particular concern because of its role in what amounts to the broader, overriding concern of denosumab discontinuation — the risk for fracture, Fu noted.

“Real-world observations indicate that fractures caused by or associated with discontinuation of denosumab primarily occur in the spine,” he explained.

Previous research underscores the risk for fracture with denosumab discontinuation — and the greater risk with longer-term denosumab use, showing an 11.8% annual incidence of vertebral fracture after discontinuation of denosumab used for less than 2 years, increasing to 16.0% upon discontinuation after more than 2 years of treatment.

Randomized trials have shown sequential zoledronate to have some benefit in offsetting that risk, reducing first-year fracture risk by 3%-4% in some studies.

In the current study, 3 of 76 participants experienced a vertebral fracture in the first year of discontinuation, all involving women, including 2 who had been receiving denosumab for ≥ 4 years before medication transition.

If a transition to a bisphosphonate is anticipated, the collective findings suggest doing it as early on in denosumab treatment as possible, Fu and his colleagues noted in the study.

“When medication transition from denosumab is expected or when long-term denosumab treatment may not be suitable, earlier medication transition with potent sequential therapy should be considered,” they wrote.

 

Dosing Adjustments?

The findings add to the evidence that “patients who gain the most with denosumab are likely to lose the most with zoledronate,” Nelson Watts, MD, who authored an editorial accompanying the study, told this news organization.

Furthermore, “denosumab and other medications seem to do more [and faster] for BMD in the spine, so we expect more loss in the spine than in the hip,” said Watts, who is director of Mercy Health Osteoporosis and Bone Health Services, Bon Secours Mercy Health in Cincinnati, Ohio.

“Studies are needed but not yet done to see if a higher dose or more frequent zoledronate would be better for BMD than the ‘usual’ yearly dose,” Watts added.

The only published clinical recommendations on the matter are discussed in a position paper from the European Calcified Tissue Society (ECTS).

“Pending additional robust data, a pragmatic approach is to begin treatment with zoledronate 6 months after the last denosumab injection and monitor the effect with bone turnover markers, for example, 3 and 6 months after the zoledronate infusion,” they recommended.

In cases of increased bone turnover markers, including above the mean found in age- and sex-matched cohorts, “repeated infusion of zoledronate should be considered,” the society added.

If bone turnover markers are not available for monitoring the patients, “a pragmatic approach could be administrating a second infusion of zoledronate 6 months after the first infusion,” they wrote.

 

Clinicians Need to Be Proactive From the Start

Bente Langdahl, MD, of the Medical Department of Endocrinology, Aarhus University Hospital in Denmark, who was a coauthor on the ECTS position statement, told this news organization that clinicians should also be proactive on the other side of treatment — before it begins — to prevent problems with discontinuation.

“I think denosumab is a very good treatment for some patients with high fracture risk and very low BMD, but both patients and clinicians should know that this treatment is either lifelong or there needs to be a plan for discontinuation,” Langdahl said.

Langdahl noted that denosumab is coming off patent soon; hence, issues with cost could become more manageable.

But until then, “I think [cost] should be considered before starting treatment because if patients cannot afford denosumab, they should have been started on zoledronate from the beginning.”

 

Discontinuation Reasons Vary

Research indicates that, broadly, adherence to denosumab ranges from about 45% to 72% at 2 years, with some reasons for discontinuation including the need for dental treatment or cost, Fu and colleagues reported.

Fu added, however, that other reasons for discontinuing denosumab “are not due to ‘need’ but rather factors such as relocating, missing follow-up appointments, or poor adherence.”

Lorenz Hofbauer, MD, who is head of the Division of Endocrinology, Diabetes, and Bone Diseases, Department of Medicine III at the Technical University Medical Center in Dresden, Germany, noted that another issue contributing to some hesitation by patients about remaining on, or even initiating denosumab, is the known risk for osteonecrosis of the jaw (ONJ).

Though reported as being rare, research continuing to stir concern for ONJ with denosumab use includes one recent study of patients with breast cancer showing those treated with denosumab had a fivefold higher risk for ONJ vs those on bisphosphonates.

“About 20% of my patients have ONJ concerns or other questions, which may delay treatment with denosumab or other therapies,” Hofbauer told this news organization.

“There is a high need to discuss risk versus benefits toward a shared decision-making,” he said.

Conversely, however, Hofbauer noted that adherence to denosumab at his center is fairly high — at 90%, which he says is largely credited to an electronically supported recall system in place at the center.

Denosumab maker Amgen also offers patient reminders via email, text, or phone through its Bone Matters patient support system, which also provides access to a call center for questions or to update treatment appointment information.

In terms of the ongoing question of how to best prevent fracture risk when patients do wind up discontinuing denosumab, Watts concluded in his editorial that more robust studies are needed.

“The dilemma is what to do with longer-term users who stop, and the real question is not what happens to BMD, but what happens to fracture risk,” he wrote.

“It is unlikely that the fracture risk question can be answered due to ethical limitations, but finding the best option, [whether it is] oral or intravenous bisphosphonate, timing, dose, and frequency, to minimize bone loss and the rebound increase in bone resorption after stopping long-term denosumab requires larger and longer studies of better design.”

The authors had no disclosures to report. Watts has been an investigator, consultant, and speaker for Amgen outside of the published editorial. Hofbauer is on advisory boards for Alexion Pharmaceuticals, Amolyt Pharma, Amgen, and UCB. Langdahl has been a primary investigator on previous and ongoing clinical trials involving denosumab.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Patients who discontinue treatment with the osteoporosis drug denosumab, despite transitioning to zoledronate, show significant losses in lumbar spine bone mineral density (BMD) within a year, according to the latest findings to show that the rapid rebound of bone loss after denosumab discontinuation is not easily prevented with other therapies — even bisphosphonates.

“When initiating denosumab for osteoporosis treatment, it is recommended to engage in thorough shared decision-making with the patient to ensure they understand the potential risks associated with discontinuing the medication,” senior author Shau-Huai Fu, MD, PhD, Department of Orthopedics, National Taiwan University Hospital Yunlin Branch, Douliu, told this news organization.

Furthermore, “integrating a case manager system is crucial to support long-term adherence and compliance,” he added.

The results are from the Denosumab Sequential Therapy prospective, open-label, parallel-group randomized clinical trial, published online in JAMA Network Open.

In the study, 101 patients were recruited between April 2019 and May 2021 at a referral center and two hospitals in Taiwan. The patients, including postmenopausal women and men over the age of 50, had been treated with regular denosumab for at least 2 years and had no previous exposure to other anti-osteoporosis medication.

They were randomized to treatment either with continuous denosumab at the standard dose of 60 mg twice yearly or to discontinue denosumab and receive the standard intravenous dose of the bisphosphonate zoledronate at 5 mg at the time when the next dose of denosumab would have been administered.

There were no differences between the two groups in serum bone turnover markers at baseline.

The current results, reflecting the first year of the 2-year study, show that, overall, those receiving zoledronate (n = 76), had a significant decrease in lumbar spine BMD, compared with a slight increase in the denosumab continuation group (–0.68% vs 1.30%, respectively; P = .03).

No significant differences were observed between the groups in terms of the study’s other measures of total hip BMD (median, 0% vs 1.12%; P = .24), and femoral neck BMD (median, 0.18% vs 0.17%; P = .71).

Additional findings from multivariable analyses in the study also supported results from previous studies showing that a longer duration of denosumab use is associated with a more substantial rebound effect: Among 15 of the denosumab users in the study who had ≥ 3 prior years of the drug, the reduction in lumbar spine BMD was even greater with zoledronate compared with denosumab continuation (–3.20% vs 1.30%; P = .003).

Though the lack of losses in the other measures of total hip and femoral neck BMD may seem encouraging, evidence from the bulk of other studies suggests cautious interpretation of those findings, Fu said.

“Although our study did not observe a noticeable decline in total hip or femoral neck BMD, other randomized controlled trials with longer durations of denosumab use have reported significant reductions in these areas,” Fu said. “Therefore, it cannot be assumed that non-lumbar spine regions are entirely safe.”

 

Fracture Risk Is the Overriding Concern

Meanwhile, the loss of lumbar spine BMD is of particular concern because of its role in what amounts to the broader, overriding concern of denosumab discontinuation — the risk for fracture, Fu noted.

“Real-world observations indicate that fractures caused by or associated with discontinuation of denosumab primarily occur in the spine,” he explained.

Previous research underscores the risk for fracture with denosumab discontinuation — and the greater risk with longer-term denosumab use, showing an 11.8% annual incidence of vertebral fracture after discontinuation of denosumab used for less than 2 years, increasing to 16.0% upon discontinuation after more than 2 years of treatment.

Randomized trials have shown sequential zoledronate to have some benefit in offsetting that risk, reducing first-year fracture risk by 3%-4% in some studies.

In the current study, 3 of 76 participants experienced a vertebral fracture in the first year of discontinuation, all involving women, including 2 who had been receiving denosumab for ≥ 4 years before medication transition.

If a transition to a bisphosphonate is anticipated, the collective findings suggest doing it as early on in denosumab treatment as possible, Fu and his colleagues noted in the study.

“When medication transition from denosumab is expected or when long-term denosumab treatment may not be suitable, earlier medication transition with potent sequential therapy should be considered,” they wrote.

 

Dosing Adjustments?

The findings add to the evidence that “patients who gain the most with denosumab are likely to lose the most with zoledronate,” Nelson Watts, MD, who authored an editorial accompanying the study, told this news organization.

Furthermore, “denosumab and other medications seem to do more [and faster] for BMD in the spine, so we expect more loss in the spine than in the hip,” said Watts, who is director of Mercy Health Osteoporosis and Bone Health Services, Bon Secours Mercy Health in Cincinnati, Ohio.

“Studies are needed but not yet done to see if a higher dose or more frequent zoledronate would be better for BMD than the ‘usual’ yearly dose,” Watts added.

The only published clinical recommendations on the matter are discussed in a position paper from the European Calcified Tissue Society (ECTS).

“Pending additional robust data, a pragmatic approach is to begin treatment with zoledronate 6 months after the last denosumab injection and monitor the effect with bone turnover markers, for example, 3 and 6 months after the zoledronate infusion,” they recommended.

In cases of increased bone turnover markers, including above the mean found in age- and sex-matched cohorts, “repeated infusion of zoledronate should be considered,” the society added.

If bone turnover markers are not available for monitoring the patients, “a pragmatic approach could be administrating a second infusion of zoledronate 6 months after the first infusion,” they wrote.

 

Clinicians Need to Be Proactive From the Start

Bente Langdahl, MD, of the Medical Department of Endocrinology, Aarhus University Hospital in Denmark, who was a coauthor on the ECTS position statement, told this news organization that clinicians should also be proactive on the other side of treatment — before it begins — to prevent problems with discontinuation.

“I think denosumab is a very good treatment for some patients with high fracture risk and very low BMD, but both patients and clinicians should know that this treatment is either lifelong or there needs to be a plan for discontinuation,” Langdahl said.

Langdahl noted that denosumab is coming off patent soon; hence, issues with cost could become more manageable.

But until then, “I think [cost] should be considered before starting treatment because if patients cannot afford denosumab, they should have been started on zoledronate from the beginning.”

 

Discontinuation Reasons Vary

Research indicates that, broadly, adherence to denosumab ranges from about 45% to 72% at 2 years, with some reasons for discontinuation including the need for dental treatment or cost, Fu and colleagues reported.

Fu added, however, that other reasons for discontinuing denosumab “are not due to ‘need’ but rather factors such as relocating, missing follow-up appointments, or poor adherence.”

Lorenz Hofbauer, MD, who is head of the Division of Endocrinology, Diabetes, and Bone Diseases, Department of Medicine III at the Technical University Medical Center in Dresden, Germany, noted that another issue contributing to some hesitation by patients about remaining on, or even initiating denosumab, is the known risk for osteonecrosis of the jaw (ONJ).

Though reported as being rare, research continuing to stir concern for ONJ with denosumab use includes one recent study of patients with breast cancer showing those treated with denosumab had a fivefold higher risk for ONJ vs those on bisphosphonates.

“About 20% of my patients have ONJ concerns or other questions, which may delay treatment with denosumab or other therapies,” Hofbauer told this news organization.

“There is a high need to discuss risk versus benefits toward a shared decision-making,” he said.

Conversely, however, Hofbauer noted that adherence to denosumab at his center is fairly high — at 90%, which he says is largely credited to an electronically supported recall system in place at the center.

Denosumab maker Amgen also offers patient reminders via email, text, or phone through its Bone Matters patient support system, which also provides access to a call center for questions or to update treatment appointment information.

In terms of the ongoing question of how to best prevent fracture risk when patients do wind up discontinuing denosumab, Watts concluded in his editorial that more robust studies are needed.

“The dilemma is what to do with longer-term users who stop, and the real question is not what happens to BMD, but what happens to fracture risk,” he wrote.

“It is unlikely that the fracture risk question can be answered due to ethical limitations, but finding the best option, [whether it is] oral or intravenous bisphosphonate, timing, dose, and frequency, to minimize bone loss and the rebound increase in bone resorption after stopping long-term denosumab requires larger and longer studies of better design.”

The authors had no disclosures to report. Watts has been an investigator, consultant, and speaker for Amgen outside of the published editorial. Hofbauer is on advisory boards for Alexion Pharmaceuticals, Amolyt Pharma, Amgen, and UCB. Langdahl has been a primary investigator on previous and ongoing clinical trials involving denosumab.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Patients who discontinue treatment with the osteoporosis drug denosumab, despite transitioning to zoledronate, show significant losses in lumbar spine bone mineral density (BMD) within a year, according to the latest findings to show that the rapid rebound of bone loss after denosumab discontinuation is not easily prevented with other therapies — even bisphosphonates.

“When initiating denosumab for osteoporosis treatment, it is recommended to engage in thorough shared decision-making with the patient to ensure they understand the potential risks associated with discontinuing the medication,” senior author Shau-Huai Fu, MD, PhD, Department of Orthopedics, National Taiwan University Hospital Yunlin Branch, Douliu, told this news organization.

Furthermore, “integrating a case manager system is crucial to support long-term adherence and compliance,” he added.

The results are from the Denosumab Sequential Therapy prospective, open-label, parallel-group randomized clinical trial, published online in JAMA Network Open.

In the study, 101 patients were recruited between April 2019 and May 2021 at a referral center and two hospitals in Taiwan. The patients, including postmenopausal women and men over the age of 50, had been treated with regular denosumab for at least 2 years and had no previous exposure to other anti-osteoporosis medication.

They were randomized to treatment either with continuous denosumab at the standard dose of 60 mg twice yearly or to discontinue denosumab and receive the standard intravenous dose of the bisphosphonate zoledronate at 5 mg at the time when the next dose of denosumab would have been administered.

There were no differences between the two groups in serum bone turnover markers at baseline.

The current results, reflecting the first year of the 2-year study, show that, overall, those receiving zoledronate (n = 76), had a significant decrease in lumbar spine BMD, compared with a slight increase in the denosumab continuation group (–0.68% vs 1.30%, respectively; P = .03).

No significant differences were observed between the groups in terms of the study’s other measures of total hip BMD (median, 0% vs 1.12%; P = .24), and femoral neck BMD (median, 0.18% vs 0.17%; P = .71).

Additional findings from multivariable analyses in the study also supported results from previous studies showing that a longer duration of denosumab use is associated with a more substantial rebound effect: Among 15 of the denosumab users in the study who had ≥ 3 prior years of the drug, the reduction in lumbar spine BMD was even greater with zoledronate compared with denosumab continuation (–3.20% vs 1.30%; P = .003).

Though the lack of losses in the other measures of total hip and femoral neck BMD may seem encouraging, evidence from the bulk of other studies suggests cautious interpretation of those findings, Fu said.

“Although our study did not observe a noticeable decline in total hip or femoral neck BMD, other randomized controlled trials with longer durations of denosumab use have reported significant reductions in these areas,” Fu said. “Therefore, it cannot be assumed that non-lumbar spine regions are entirely safe.”

 

Fracture Risk Is the Overriding Concern

Meanwhile, the loss of lumbar spine BMD is of particular concern because of its role in what amounts to the broader, overriding concern of denosumab discontinuation — the risk for fracture, Fu noted.

“Real-world observations indicate that fractures caused by or associated with discontinuation of denosumab primarily occur in the spine,” he explained.

Previous research underscores the risk for fracture with denosumab discontinuation — and the greater risk with longer-term denosumab use, showing an 11.8% annual incidence of vertebral fracture after discontinuation of denosumab used for less than 2 years, increasing to 16.0% upon discontinuation after more than 2 years of treatment.

Randomized trials have shown sequential zoledronate to have some benefit in offsetting that risk, reducing first-year fracture risk by 3%-4% in some studies.

In the current study, 3 of 76 participants experienced a vertebral fracture in the first year of discontinuation, all involving women, including 2 who had been receiving denosumab for ≥ 4 years before medication transition.

If a transition to a bisphosphonate is anticipated, the collective findings suggest doing it as early on in denosumab treatment as possible, Fu and his colleagues noted in the study.

“When medication transition from denosumab is expected or when long-term denosumab treatment may not be suitable, earlier medication transition with potent sequential therapy should be considered,” they wrote.

 

Dosing Adjustments?

The findings add to the evidence that “patients who gain the most with denosumab are likely to lose the most with zoledronate,” Nelson Watts, MD, who authored an editorial accompanying the study, told this news organization.

Furthermore, “denosumab and other medications seem to do more [and faster] for BMD in the spine, so we expect more loss in the spine than in the hip,” said Watts, who is director of Mercy Health Osteoporosis and Bone Health Services, Bon Secours Mercy Health in Cincinnati, Ohio.

“Studies are needed but not yet done to see if a higher dose or more frequent zoledronate would be better for BMD than the ‘usual’ yearly dose,” Watts added.

The only published clinical recommendations on the matter are discussed in a position paper from the European Calcified Tissue Society (ECTS).

“Pending additional robust data, a pragmatic approach is to begin treatment with zoledronate 6 months after the last denosumab injection and monitor the effect with bone turnover markers, for example, 3 and 6 months after the zoledronate infusion,” they recommended.

In cases of increased bone turnover markers, including above the mean found in age- and sex-matched cohorts, “repeated infusion of zoledronate should be considered,” the society added.

If bone turnover markers are not available for monitoring the patients, “a pragmatic approach could be administrating a second infusion of zoledronate 6 months after the first infusion,” they wrote.

 

Clinicians Need to Be Proactive From the Start

Bente Langdahl, MD, of the Medical Department of Endocrinology, Aarhus University Hospital in Denmark, who was a coauthor on the ECTS position statement, told this news organization that clinicians should also be proactive on the other side of treatment — before it begins — to prevent problems with discontinuation.

“I think denosumab is a very good treatment for some patients with high fracture risk and very low BMD, but both patients and clinicians should know that this treatment is either lifelong or there needs to be a plan for discontinuation,” Langdahl said.

Langdahl noted that denosumab is coming off patent soon; hence, issues with cost could become more manageable.

But until then, “I think [cost] should be considered before starting treatment because if patients cannot afford denosumab, they should have been started on zoledronate from the beginning.”

 

Discontinuation Reasons Vary

Research indicates that, broadly, adherence to denosumab ranges from about 45% to 72% at 2 years, with some reasons for discontinuation including the need for dental treatment or cost, Fu and colleagues reported.

Fu added, however, that other reasons for discontinuing denosumab “are not due to ‘need’ but rather factors such as relocating, missing follow-up appointments, or poor adherence.”

Lorenz Hofbauer, MD, who is head of the Division of Endocrinology, Diabetes, and Bone Diseases, Department of Medicine III at the Technical University Medical Center in Dresden, Germany, noted that another issue contributing to some hesitation by patients about remaining on, or even initiating denosumab, is the known risk for osteonecrosis of the jaw (ONJ).

Though reported as being rare, research continuing to stir concern for ONJ with denosumab use includes one recent study of patients with breast cancer showing those treated with denosumab had a fivefold higher risk for ONJ vs those on bisphosphonates.

“About 20% of my patients have ONJ concerns or other questions, which may delay treatment with denosumab or other therapies,” Hofbauer told this news organization.

“There is a high need to discuss risk versus benefits toward a shared decision-making,” he said.

Conversely, however, Hofbauer noted that adherence to denosumab at his center is fairly high — at 90%, which he says is largely credited to an electronically supported recall system in place at the center.

Denosumab maker Amgen also offers patient reminders via email, text, or phone through its Bone Matters patient support system, which also provides access to a call center for questions or to update treatment appointment information.

In terms of the ongoing question of how to best prevent fracture risk when patients do wind up discontinuing denosumab, Watts concluded in his editorial that more robust studies are needed.

“The dilemma is what to do with longer-term users who stop, and the real question is not what happens to BMD, but what happens to fracture risk,” he wrote.

“It is unlikely that the fracture risk question can be answered due to ethical limitations, but finding the best option, [whether it is] oral or intravenous bisphosphonate, timing, dose, and frequency, to minimize bone loss and the rebound increase in bone resorption after stopping long-term denosumab requires larger and longer studies of better design.”

The authors had no disclosures to report. Watts has been an investigator, consultant, and speaker for Amgen outside of the published editorial. Hofbauer is on advisory boards for Alexion Pharmaceuticals, Amolyt Pharma, Amgen, and UCB. Langdahl has been a primary investigator on previous and ongoing clinical trials involving denosumab.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity. 

You’re stuck in your house. Work is closed or you’re working remotely. Your kids’ school is closed or is offering an hour or two a day of Zoom-based instruction. You have a bit of cabin fever which, you suppose, is better than the actual fever that comes with COVID infections, which are running rampant during the height of the pandemic. But still — it’s stressful. What do you do?

We all coped in our own way. We baked sourdough bread. We built that tree house we’d been meaning to build. We started podcasts. And ... we drank. Quite a bit, actually.

During the first year of the pandemic, alcohol sales increased 3%, the largest year-on-year increase in more than 50 years. There was also an increase in drunkenness across the board, though it was most pronounced in those who were already at risk from alcohol use disorder.

 

Alcohol-associated deaths increased by around 10% from 2019 to 2020. Obviously, this is a small percentage of COVID-associated deaths, but it is nothing to sneeze at.

 

But look, we were anxious. And say what you will about alcohol as a risk factor for liver disease, heart disease, and cancer — not to mention traffic accidents — it is an anxiolytic, at least in the short term.

But as the pandemic waned, as society reopened, as we got back to work and reintegrated into our social circles and escaped the confines of our houses and apartments, our drinking habits went back to normal, right? 

Americans’ love affair with alcohol has been a torrid one, as this graph showing gallons of ethanol consumed per capita over time shows you. 

 

What you see is a steady increase in alcohol consumption from the end of prohibition in 1933 to its peak in the heady days of the early 1980s, followed by a steady decline until the mid-1990s. Since then, there has been another increase with, as you will note, a notable uptick during the early part of the COVID pandemic.

What came across my desk this week was updated data, appearing in a research letter in Annals of Internal Medicine, that compared alcohol consumption in 2020 — the first year of the COVID pandemic — with that in 2022 (the latest available data). And it looks like not much has changed.

This was a population-based survey study leveraging the National Health Interview Survey, including around 80,000 respondents from 2018, 2020, and 2022. 

They created two main categories of drinking: drinking any alcohol at all and heavy drinking.

In 2018, 66% of Americans reported drinking any alcohol. That had risen to 69% by 2020, and it stayed at that level even after the lockdown had ended, as you can see here. This may seem like a small increase, but this was a highly significant result. Translating into absolute numbers, it suggests that we have added between 3,328,000 and 10,660,000 net additional drinkers to the population over this time period.

 

This trend was seen across basically every demographic group, with some notably larger increases among Black and Hispanic individuals, and marginally higher rates among people under age 30.

 

But far be it from me to deny someone a tot of brandy on a cold winter’s night. More interesting is the rate of heavy alcohol use reported in the study. For context, the definitions of heavy alcohol use appear here. For men, it’s any one day with five or more drinks or 15 or more drinks per week. For women it’s four or more drinks on a given day or eight drinks or more per week. 

The overall rate of heavy drinking was about 5.1% in 2018 before the start of the pandemic. That rose to more than 6% in 2020 and it rose a bit more into 2022. The net change here, on a population level, is from 1,430,000 to 3,926,000 new heavy drinkers. That’s a number that rises to the level of an actual public health issue.

 

Again, this trend was fairly broad across demographic groups. Although in this case, the changes were a bit larger among White people and those in the 40- to 49-year age group. This is my cohort, I guess. Cheers.

 

The information we have from this study is purely descriptive. It tells us that people are drinking more since the pandemic. It doesn’t tell us why, or the impact that this excess drinking will have on subsequent health outcomes, although other studies would suggest that it will contribute to certain chronic conditions, both physical and mental. 

Maybe more important is that it reminds us that habits are sticky. Once we become accustomed to something — that glass of wine or two with dinner, and before bed — it has a tendency to stay with us. There’s an upside to that phenomenon as well, of course; it means that we can train good habits too. And those, once they become ingrained, can be just as hard to break. We just need to be mindful of the habits we pick. New Year 2025 is just around the corner. Start brainstorming those resolutions now.

 

Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Conn. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity. 

You’re stuck in your house. Work is closed or you’re working remotely. Your kids’ school is closed or is offering an hour or two a day of Zoom-based instruction. You have a bit of cabin fever which, you suppose, is better than the actual fever that comes with COVID infections, which are running rampant during the height of the pandemic. But still — it’s stressful. What do you do?

We all coped in our own way. We baked sourdough bread. We built that tree house we’d been meaning to build. We started podcasts. And ... we drank. Quite a bit, actually.

During the first year of the pandemic, alcohol sales increased 3%, the largest year-on-year increase in more than 50 years. There was also an increase in drunkenness across the board, though it was most pronounced in those who were already at risk from alcohol use disorder.

 

Alcohol-associated deaths increased by around 10% from 2019 to 2020. Obviously, this is a small percentage of COVID-associated deaths, but it is nothing to sneeze at.

 

But look, we were anxious. And say what you will about alcohol as a risk factor for liver disease, heart disease, and cancer — not to mention traffic accidents — it is an anxiolytic, at least in the short term.

But as the pandemic waned, as society reopened, as we got back to work and reintegrated into our social circles and escaped the confines of our houses and apartments, our drinking habits went back to normal, right? 

Americans’ love affair with alcohol has been a torrid one, as this graph showing gallons of ethanol consumed per capita over time shows you. 

 

What you see is a steady increase in alcohol consumption from the end of prohibition in 1933 to its peak in the heady days of the early 1980s, followed by a steady decline until the mid-1990s. Since then, there has been another increase with, as you will note, a notable uptick during the early part of the COVID pandemic.

What came across my desk this week was updated data, appearing in a research letter in Annals of Internal Medicine, that compared alcohol consumption in 2020 — the first year of the COVID pandemic — with that in 2022 (the latest available data). And it looks like not much has changed.

This was a population-based survey study leveraging the National Health Interview Survey, including around 80,000 respondents from 2018, 2020, and 2022. 

They created two main categories of drinking: drinking any alcohol at all and heavy drinking.

In 2018, 66% of Americans reported drinking any alcohol. That had risen to 69% by 2020, and it stayed at that level even after the lockdown had ended, as you can see here. This may seem like a small increase, but this was a highly significant result. Translating into absolute numbers, it suggests that we have added between 3,328,000 and 10,660,000 net additional drinkers to the population over this time period.

 

This trend was seen across basically every demographic group, with some notably larger increases among Black and Hispanic individuals, and marginally higher rates among people under age 30.

 

But far be it from me to deny someone a tot of brandy on a cold winter’s night. More interesting is the rate of heavy alcohol use reported in the study. For context, the definitions of heavy alcohol use appear here. For men, it’s any one day with five or more drinks or 15 or more drinks per week. For women it’s four or more drinks on a given day or eight drinks or more per week. 

The overall rate of heavy drinking was about 5.1% in 2018 before the start of the pandemic. That rose to more than 6% in 2020 and it rose a bit more into 2022. The net change here, on a population level, is from 1,430,000 to 3,926,000 new heavy drinkers. That’s a number that rises to the level of an actual public health issue.

 

Again, this trend was fairly broad across demographic groups. Although in this case, the changes were a bit larger among White people and those in the 40- to 49-year age group. This is my cohort, I guess. Cheers.

 

The information we have from this study is purely descriptive. It tells us that people are drinking more since the pandemic. It doesn’t tell us why, or the impact that this excess drinking will have on subsequent health outcomes, although other studies would suggest that it will contribute to certain chronic conditions, both physical and mental. 

Maybe more important is that it reminds us that habits are sticky. Once we become accustomed to something — that glass of wine or two with dinner, and before bed — it has a tendency to stay with us. There’s an upside to that phenomenon as well, of course; it means that we can train good habits too. And those, once they become ingrained, can be just as hard to break. We just need to be mindful of the habits we pick. New Year 2025 is just around the corner. Start brainstorming those resolutions now.

 

Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Conn. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity. 

You’re stuck in your house. Work is closed or you’re working remotely. Your kids’ school is closed or is offering an hour or two a day of Zoom-based instruction. You have a bit of cabin fever which, you suppose, is better than the actual fever that comes with COVID infections, which are running rampant during the height of the pandemic. But still — it’s stressful. What do you do?

We all coped in our own way. We baked sourdough bread. We built that tree house we’d been meaning to build. We started podcasts. And ... we drank. Quite a bit, actually.

During the first year of the pandemic, alcohol sales increased 3%, the largest year-on-year increase in more than 50 years. There was also an increase in drunkenness across the board, though it was most pronounced in those who were already at risk from alcohol use disorder.

 

Alcohol-associated deaths increased by around 10% from 2019 to 2020. Obviously, this is a small percentage of COVID-associated deaths, but it is nothing to sneeze at.

 

But look, we were anxious. And say what you will about alcohol as a risk factor for liver disease, heart disease, and cancer — not to mention traffic accidents — it is an anxiolytic, at least in the short term.

But as the pandemic waned, as society reopened, as we got back to work and reintegrated into our social circles and escaped the confines of our houses and apartments, our drinking habits went back to normal, right? 

Americans’ love affair with alcohol has been a torrid one, as this graph showing gallons of ethanol consumed per capita over time shows you. 

 

What you see is a steady increase in alcohol consumption from the end of prohibition in 1933 to its peak in the heady days of the early 1980s, followed by a steady decline until the mid-1990s. Since then, there has been another increase with, as you will note, a notable uptick during the early part of the COVID pandemic.

What came across my desk this week was updated data, appearing in a research letter in Annals of Internal Medicine, that compared alcohol consumption in 2020 — the first year of the COVID pandemic — with that in 2022 (the latest available data). And it looks like not much has changed.

This was a population-based survey study leveraging the National Health Interview Survey, including around 80,000 respondents from 2018, 2020, and 2022. 

They created two main categories of drinking: drinking any alcohol at all and heavy drinking.

In 2018, 66% of Americans reported drinking any alcohol. That had risen to 69% by 2020, and it stayed at that level even after the lockdown had ended, as you can see here. This may seem like a small increase, but this was a highly significant result. Translating into absolute numbers, it suggests that we have added between 3,328,000 and 10,660,000 net additional drinkers to the population over this time period.

 

This trend was seen across basically every demographic group, with some notably larger increases among Black and Hispanic individuals, and marginally higher rates among people under age 30.

 

But far be it from me to deny someone a tot of brandy on a cold winter’s night. More interesting is the rate of heavy alcohol use reported in the study. For context, the definitions of heavy alcohol use appear here. For men, it’s any one day with five or more drinks or 15 or more drinks per week. For women it’s four or more drinks on a given day or eight drinks or more per week. 

The overall rate of heavy drinking was about 5.1% in 2018 before the start of the pandemic. That rose to more than 6% in 2020 and it rose a bit more into 2022. The net change here, on a population level, is from 1,430,000 to 3,926,000 new heavy drinkers. That’s a number that rises to the level of an actual public health issue.

 

Again, this trend was fairly broad across demographic groups. Although in this case, the changes were a bit larger among White people and those in the 40- to 49-year age group. This is my cohort, I guess. Cheers.

 

The information we have from this study is purely descriptive. It tells us that people are drinking more since the pandemic. It doesn’t tell us why, or the impact that this excess drinking will have on subsequent health outcomes, although other studies would suggest that it will contribute to certain chronic conditions, both physical and mental. 

Maybe more important is that it reminds us that habits are sticky. Once we become accustomed to something — that glass of wine or two with dinner, and before bed — it has a tendency to stay with us. There’s an upside to that phenomenon as well, of course; it means that we can train good habits too. And those, once they become ingrained, can be just as hard to break. We just need to be mindful of the habits we pick. New Year 2025 is just around the corner. Start brainstorming those resolutions now.

 

Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Conn. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity. 

I was really struggling to think of a good analogy to explain the glaring problem of polygenic risk scores (PRS) this week. But I think I have it now. Go with me on this.

An alien spaceship parks itself, Independence Day style, above a local office building. 

But unlike the aliens that gave such a hard time to Will Smith and Brent Spiner, these are benevolent, technologically superior guys. They shine a mysterious green light down on the building and then announce, maybe via telepathy, that 6% of the people in that building will have a heart attack in the next year.

 

They move on to the next building. “Five percent will have a heart attack in the next year.” And the next, 7%. And the next, 2%. 

Let’s assume the aliens are entirely accurate. What do you do with this information?

Most of us would suggest that you find out who was in the buildings with the higher percentages. You check their cholesterol levels, get them to exercise more, do some stress tests, and so on.

But that said, you’d still be spending a lot of money on a bunch of people who were not going to have heart attacks. So, a crack team of spies — in my mind, this is definitely led by a grizzled Ian McShane — infiltrate the alien ship, steal this predictive ray gun, and start pointing it, not at buildings but at people. 

In this scenario, one person could have a 10% chance of having a heart attack in the next year. Another person has a 50% chance. The aliens, seeing this, leave us one final message before flying into the great beyond: “No, you guys are doing it wrong.”

This week: The people and companies using an advanced predictive technology, PRS , wrong — and a study that shows just how problematic this is.

We all know that genes play a significant role in our health outcomes. Some diseases (Huntington disease, cystic fibrosis, sickle cell disease, hemochromatosis, and Duchenne muscular dystrophy, for example) are entirely driven by genetic mutations.

The vast majority of chronic diseases we face are not driven by genetics, but they may be enhanced by genetics. Coronary heart disease (CHD) is a prime example. There are clearly environmental risk factors, like smoking, that dramatically increase risk. But there are also genetic underpinnings; about half the risk for CHD comes from genetic variation, according to one study.

But in the case of those common diseases, it’s not one gene that leads to increased risk; it’s the aggregate effect of multiple risk genes, each contributing a small amount of risk to the final total. 

The promise of PRS was based on this fact. Take the genome of an individual, identify all the risk genes, and integrate them into some final number that represents your genetic risk of developing CHD.

The way you derive a PRS is take a big group of people and sequence their genomes. Then, you see who develops the disease of interest — in this case, CHD. If the people who develop CHD are more likely to have a particular mutation, that mutation goes in the risk score. Risk scores can integrate tens, hundreds, even thousands of individual mutations to create that final score.

There are literally dozens of PRS for CHD. And there are companies that will calculate yours right now for a reasonable fee.

The accuracy of these scores is assessed at the population level. It’s the alien ray gun thing. Researchers apply the PRS to a big group of people and say 20% of them should develop CHD. If indeed 20% develop CHD, they say the score is accurate. And that’s true.

But what happens next is the problem. Companies and even doctors have been marketing PRS to individuals. And honestly, it sounds amazing. “We’ll use sophisticated techniques to analyze your genetic code and integrate the information to give you your personal risk for CHD.” Or dementia. Or other diseases. A lot of people would want to know this information. 

It turns out, though, that this is where the system breaks down. And it is nicely illustrated by this study, appearing November 16 in JAMA.

The authors wanted to see how PRS, which are developed to predict disease in a group of people, work when applied to an individual.

They identified 48 previously published PRS for CHD. They applied those scores to more than 170,000 individuals across multiple genetic databases. And, by and large, the scores worked as advertised, at least across the entire group. The weighted accuracy of all 48 scores was around 78%. They aren’t perfect, of course. We wouldn’t expect them to be, since CHD is not entirely driven by genetics. But 78% accurate isn’t too bad.

But that accuracy is at the population level. At the level of the office building. At the individual level, it was a vastly different story.

This is best illustrated by this plot, which shows the score from 48 different PRS for CHD within the same person. A note here: It is arranged by the publication date of the risk score, but these were all assessed on a single blood sample at a single point in time in this study participant.

 

The individual scores are all over the map. Using one risk score gives an individual a risk that is near the 99th percentile — a ticking time bomb of CHD. Another score indicates a level of risk at the very bottom of the spectrum — highly reassuring. A bunch of scores fall somewhere in between. In other words, as a doctor, the risk I will discuss with this patient is more strongly determined by which PRS I happen to choose than by his actual genetic risk, whatever that is.

This may seem counterintuitive. All these risk scores were similarly accurate within a population; how can they all give different results to an individual? The answer is simpler than you may think. As long as a given score makes one extra good prediction for each extra bad prediction, its accuracy is not changed. 

Let’s imagine we have a population of 40 people.

 

Risk score model 1 correctly classified 30 of them for 75% accuracy. Great.

 

Risk score model 2 also correctly classified 30 of our 40 individuals, for 75% accuracy. It’s just a different 30.

 

Risk score model 3 also correctly classified 30 of 40, but another different 30.

I’ve colored this to show you all the different overlaps. What you can see is that although each score has similar accuracy, the individual people have a bunch of different colors, indicating that some scores worked for them and some didn’t. That’s a real problem. 

This has not stopped companies from advertising PRS for all sorts of diseases. Companies are even using PRS to decide which fetuses to implant during IVF therapy, which is a particularly egregiously wrong use of this technology that I have written about before.

How do you fix this? Our aliens tried to warn us. This is not how you are supposed to use this ray gun. You are supposed to use it to identify groups of people at higher risk to direct more resources to that group. That’s really all you can do.

It’s also possible that we need to match the risk score to the individual in a better way. This is likely driven by the fact that risk scores tend to work best in the populations in which they were developed, and many of them were developed in people of largely European ancestry. 

It is worth noting that if a PRS had perfect accuracy at the population level, it would also necessarily have perfect accuracy at the individual level. But there aren’t any scores like that. It’s possible that combining various scores may increase the individual accuracy, but that hasn’t been demonstrated yet either. 

Look, genetics is and will continue to play a major role in healthcare. At the same time, sequencing entire genomes is a technology that is ripe for hype and thus misuse. Or even abuse. Fundamentally, this JAMA study reminds us that accuracy in a population and accuracy in an individual are not the same. But more deeply, it reminds us that just because a technology is new or cool or expensive doesn’t mean it will work in the clinic. 

 

Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity. 

I was really struggling to think of a good analogy to explain the glaring problem of polygenic risk scores (PRS) this week. But I think I have it now. Go with me on this.

An alien spaceship parks itself, Independence Day style, above a local office building. 

But unlike the aliens that gave such a hard time to Will Smith and Brent Spiner, these are benevolent, technologically superior guys. They shine a mysterious green light down on the building and then announce, maybe via telepathy, that 6% of the people in that building will have a heart attack in the next year.

 

They move on to the next building. “Five percent will have a heart attack in the next year.” And the next, 7%. And the next, 2%. 

Let’s assume the aliens are entirely accurate. What do you do with this information?

Most of us would suggest that you find out who was in the buildings with the higher percentages. You check their cholesterol levels, get them to exercise more, do some stress tests, and so on.

But that said, you’d still be spending a lot of money on a bunch of people who were not going to have heart attacks. So, a crack team of spies — in my mind, this is definitely led by a grizzled Ian McShane — infiltrate the alien ship, steal this predictive ray gun, and start pointing it, not at buildings but at people. 

In this scenario, one person could have a 10% chance of having a heart attack in the next year. Another person has a 50% chance. The aliens, seeing this, leave us one final message before flying into the great beyond: “No, you guys are doing it wrong.”

This week: The people and companies using an advanced predictive technology, PRS , wrong — and a study that shows just how problematic this is.

We all know that genes play a significant role in our health outcomes. Some diseases (Huntington disease, cystic fibrosis, sickle cell disease, hemochromatosis, and Duchenne muscular dystrophy, for example) are entirely driven by genetic mutations.

The vast majority of chronic diseases we face are not driven by genetics, but they may be enhanced by genetics. Coronary heart disease (CHD) is a prime example. There are clearly environmental risk factors, like smoking, that dramatically increase risk. But there are also genetic underpinnings; about half the risk for CHD comes from genetic variation, according to one study.

But in the case of those common diseases, it’s not one gene that leads to increased risk; it’s the aggregate effect of multiple risk genes, each contributing a small amount of risk to the final total. 

The promise of PRS was based on this fact. Take the genome of an individual, identify all the risk genes, and integrate them into some final number that represents your genetic risk of developing CHD.

The way you derive a PRS is take a big group of people and sequence their genomes. Then, you see who develops the disease of interest — in this case, CHD. If the people who develop CHD are more likely to have a particular mutation, that mutation goes in the risk score. Risk scores can integrate tens, hundreds, even thousands of individual mutations to create that final score.

There are literally dozens of PRS for CHD. And there are companies that will calculate yours right now for a reasonable fee.

The accuracy of these scores is assessed at the population level. It’s the alien ray gun thing. Researchers apply the PRS to a big group of people and say 20% of them should develop CHD. If indeed 20% develop CHD, they say the score is accurate. And that’s true.

But what happens next is the problem. Companies and even doctors have been marketing PRS to individuals. And honestly, it sounds amazing. “We’ll use sophisticated techniques to analyze your genetic code and integrate the information to give you your personal risk for CHD.” Or dementia. Or other diseases. A lot of people would want to know this information. 

It turns out, though, that this is where the system breaks down. And it is nicely illustrated by this study, appearing November 16 in JAMA.

The authors wanted to see how PRS, which are developed to predict disease in a group of people, work when applied to an individual.

They identified 48 previously published PRS for CHD. They applied those scores to more than 170,000 individuals across multiple genetic databases. And, by and large, the scores worked as advertised, at least across the entire group. The weighted accuracy of all 48 scores was around 78%. They aren’t perfect, of course. We wouldn’t expect them to be, since CHD is not entirely driven by genetics. But 78% accurate isn’t too bad.

But that accuracy is at the population level. At the level of the office building. At the individual level, it was a vastly different story.

This is best illustrated by this plot, which shows the score from 48 different PRS for CHD within the same person. A note here: It is arranged by the publication date of the risk score, but these were all assessed on a single blood sample at a single point in time in this study participant.

 

The individual scores are all over the map. Using one risk score gives an individual a risk that is near the 99th percentile — a ticking time bomb of CHD. Another score indicates a level of risk at the very bottom of the spectrum — highly reassuring. A bunch of scores fall somewhere in between. In other words, as a doctor, the risk I will discuss with this patient is more strongly determined by which PRS I happen to choose than by his actual genetic risk, whatever that is.

This may seem counterintuitive. All these risk scores were similarly accurate within a population; how can they all give different results to an individual? The answer is simpler than you may think. As long as a given score makes one extra good prediction for each extra bad prediction, its accuracy is not changed. 

Let’s imagine we have a population of 40 people.

 

Risk score model 1 correctly classified 30 of them for 75% accuracy. Great.

 

Risk score model 2 also correctly classified 30 of our 40 individuals, for 75% accuracy. It’s just a different 30.

 

Risk score model 3 also correctly classified 30 of 40, but another different 30.

I’ve colored this to show you all the different overlaps. What you can see is that although each score has similar accuracy, the individual people have a bunch of different colors, indicating that some scores worked for them and some didn’t. That’s a real problem. 

This has not stopped companies from advertising PRS for all sorts of diseases. Companies are even using PRS to decide which fetuses to implant during IVF therapy, which is a particularly egregiously wrong use of this technology that I have written about before.

How do you fix this? Our aliens tried to warn us. This is not how you are supposed to use this ray gun. You are supposed to use it to identify groups of people at higher risk to direct more resources to that group. That’s really all you can do.

It’s also possible that we need to match the risk score to the individual in a better way. This is likely driven by the fact that risk scores tend to work best in the populations in which they were developed, and many of them were developed in people of largely European ancestry. 

It is worth noting that if a PRS had perfect accuracy at the population level, it would also necessarily have perfect accuracy at the individual level. But there aren’t any scores like that. It’s possible that combining various scores may increase the individual accuracy, but that hasn’t been demonstrated yet either. 

Look, genetics is and will continue to play a major role in healthcare. At the same time, sequencing entire genomes is a technology that is ripe for hype and thus misuse. Or even abuse. Fundamentally, this JAMA study reminds us that accuracy in a population and accuracy in an individual are not the same. But more deeply, it reminds us that just because a technology is new or cool or expensive doesn’t mean it will work in the clinic. 

 

Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity. 

I was really struggling to think of a good analogy to explain the glaring problem of polygenic risk scores (PRS) this week. But I think I have it now. Go with me on this.

An alien spaceship parks itself, Independence Day style, above a local office building. 

But unlike the aliens that gave such a hard time to Will Smith and Brent Spiner, these are benevolent, technologically superior guys. They shine a mysterious green light down on the building and then announce, maybe via telepathy, that 6% of the people in that building will have a heart attack in the next year.

 

They move on to the next building. “Five percent will have a heart attack in the next year.” And the next, 7%. And the next, 2%. 

Let’s assume the aliens are entirely accurate. What do you do with this information?

Most of us would suggest that you find out who was in the buildings with the higher percentages. You check their cholesterol levels, get them to exercise more, do some stress tests, and so on.

But that said, you’d still be spending a lot of money on a bunch of people who were not going to have heart attacks. So, a crack team of spies — in my mind, this is definitely led by a grizzled Ian McShane — infiltrate the alien ship, steal this predictive ray gun, and start pointing it, not at buildings but at people. 

In this scenario, one person could have a 10% chance of having a heart attack in the next year. Another person has a 50% chance. The aliens, seeing this, leave us one final message before flying into the great beyond: “No, you guys are doing it wrong.”

This week: The people and companies using an advanced predictive technology, PRS , wrong — and a study that shows just how problematic this is.

We all know that genes play a significant role in our health outcomes. Some diseases (Huntington disease, cystic fibrosis, sickle cell disease, hemochromatosis, and Duchenne muscular dystrophy, for example) are entirely driven by genetic mutations.

The vast majority of chronic diseases we face are not driven by genetics, but they may be enhanced by genetics. Coronary heart disease (CHD) is a prime example. There are clearly environmental risk factors, like smoking, that dramatically increase risk. But there are also genetic underpinnings; about half the risk for CHD comes from genetic variation, according to one study.

But in the case of those common diseases, it’s not one gene that leads to increased risk; it’s the aggregate effect of multiple risk genes, each contributing a small amount of risk to the final total. 

The promise of PRS was based on this fact. Take the genome of an individual, identify all the risk genes, and integrate them into some final number that represents your genetic risk of developing CHD.

The way you derive a PRS is take a big group of people and sequence their genomes. Then, you see who develops the disease of interest — in this case, CHD. If the people who develop CHD are more likely to have a particular mutation, that mutation goes in the risk score. Risk scores can integrate tens, hundreds, even thousands of individual mutations to create that final score.

There are literally dozens of PRS for CHD. And there are companies that will calculate yours right now for a reasonable fee.

The accuracy of these scores is assessed at the population level. It’s the alien ray gun thing. Researchers apply the PRS to a big group of people and say 20% of them should develop CHD. If indeed 20% develop CHD, they say the score is accurate. And that’s true.

But what happens next is the problem. Companies and even doctors have been marketing PRS to individuals. And honestly, it sounds amazing. “We’ll use sophisticated techniques to analyze your genetic code and integrate the information to give you your personal risk for CHD.” Or dementia. Or other diseases. A lot of people would want to know this information. 

It turns out, though, that this is where the system breaks down. And it is nicely illustrated by this study, appearing November 16 in JAMA.

The authors wanted to see how PRS, which are developed to predict disease in a group of people, work when applied to an individual.

They identified 48 previously published PRS for CHD. They applied those scores to more than 170,000 individuals across multiple genetic databases. And, by and large, the scores worked as advertised, at least across the entire group. The weighted accuracy of all 48 scores was around 78%. They aren’t perfect, of course. We wouldn’t expect them to be, since CHD is not entirely driven by genetics. But 78% accurate isn’t too bad.

But that accuracy is at the population level. At the level of the office building. At the individual level, it was a vastly different story.

This is best illustrated by this plot, which shows the score from 48 different PRS for CHD within the same person. A note here: It is arranged by the publication date of the risk score, but these were all assessed on a single blood sample at a single point in time in this study participant.

 

The individual scores are all over the map. Using one risk score gives an individual a risk that is near the 99th percentile — a ticking time bomb of CHD. Another score indicates a level of risk at the very bottom of the spectrum — highly reassuring. A bunch of scores fall somewhere in between. In other words, as a doctor, the risk I will discuss with this patient is more strongly determined by which PRS I happen to choose than by his actual genetic risk, whatever that is.

This may seem counterintuitive. All these risk scores were similarly accurate within a population; how can they all give different results to an individual? The answer is simpler than you may think. As long as a given score makes one extra good prediction for each extra bad prediction, its accuracy is not changed. 

Let’s imagine we have a population of 40 people.

 

Risk score model 1 correctly classified 30 of them for 75% accuracy. Great.

 

Risk score model 2 also correctly classified 30 of our 40 individuals, for 75% accuracy. It’s just a different 30.

 

Risk score model 3 also correctly classified 30 of 40, but another different 30.

I’ve colored this to show you all the different overlaps. What you can see is that although each score has similar accuracy, the individual people have a bunch of different colors, indicating that some scores worked for them and some didn’t. That’s a real problem. 

This has not stopped companies from advertising PRS for all sorts of diseases. Companies are even using PRS to decide which fetuses to implant during IVF therapy, which is a particularly egregiously wrong use of this technology that I have written about before.

How do you fix this? Our aliens tried to warn us. This is not how you are supposed to use this ray gun. You are supposed to use it to identify groups of people at higher risk to direct more resources to that group. That’s really all you can do.

It’s also possible that we need to match the risk score to the individual in a better way. This is likely driven by the fact that risk scores tend to work best in the populations in which they were developed, and many of them were developed in people of largely European ancestry. 

It is worth noting that if a PRS had perfect accuracy at the population level, it would also necessarily have perfect accuracy at the individual level. But there aren’t any scores like that. It’s possible that combining various scores may increase the individual accuracy, but that hasn’t been demonstrated yet either. 

Look, genetics is and will continue to play a major role in healthcare. At the same time, sequencing entire genomes is a technology that is ripe for hype and thus misuse. Or even abuse. Fundamentally, this JAMA study reminds us that accuracy in a population and accuracy in an individual are not the same. But more deeply, it reminds us that just because a technology is new or cool or expensive doesn’t mean it will work in the clinic. 

 

Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

TOPLINE:

A case series highlights the features of severe, necrotic skin wounds among hospitalized adults associated with xylazine exposure, including 9% that involved exposed deep structures such as bone or tendon.

METHODOLOGY:

• The alpha-2 agonist xylazine, a veterinary sedative, is increasingly detected in fentanyl used illicitly in the United States and may be causing necrotizing wounds in drug users.
• To characterize specific clinical features of xylazine-associated wounds, researchers conducted a case series at three academic medical hospitals in Philadelphia from April 2022 to February 2023.
• They included 29 patients with confirmed xylazine exposure and a chief complaint that was wound-related, seen as inpatients or in the emergency department.

TAKEAWAY:

• The 29 patients (mean age, 39.4 years; 52% men) had a total of 59 wounds, 90% were located on the arms and legs, and 69% were on the posterior upper or anterior lower extremities. Five wounds (9%) involved exposed deep structures such as the bone or tendon.
• Of the 57 wounds with available photographs, 60% had wound beds with predominantly devitalized tissue (eschar or slough), 11% were blisters, 9% had granulation tissue, and 21% had mixed tissue or other types of wound beds. Devitalized tissue was more commonly observed in medium or large wounds (odds ratio [OR], 5.2; P = .02) than in small wounds.
• As reported by patients, 48% were acute wounds, 20% were subacute, and 29% were chronic (present for 3 months or longer). Subacute and chronic wounds were often medium or large compared with acute wounds (OR, 48.5; P < .001) and contained devitalized tissue (OR, 9.5; P < .001).
• Of the 39 wounds with patient-reported etiology, 34 (87%) occurred at drug injection sites.

IN PRACTICE:

To the best of their knowledge, this is “the largest study of wounds among patients with confirmed exposure to xylazine and the first to systematically describe wound characteristics,” the authors wrote. The results, they concluded, “may help identify xylazine exposure and can guide research on the etiology and management of these wounds.”

SOURCE:

This study was conducted by Lydia Lutz, MD, Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, Baltimore, Maryland, and coinvestigators and was published online in JAMA Dermatology.

LIMITATIONS:

This single-city, retrospective study limited generalizability, and the selection of the largest wounds may bias results. Additionally, chronicity data relied on patient recall, potentially introducing recall bias.

DISCLOSURES:

Two authors received support from the National Institute on Drug Abuse for the study. The authors declared no competing interests.

This article was created using several editorial tools, including AI, as part of the process. Human editors reviewed this content before publication. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

TOPLINE:

A case series highlights the features of severe, necrotic skin wounds among hospitalized adults associated with xylazine exposure, including 9% that involved exposed deep structures such as bone or tendon.

METHODOLOGY:

• The alpha-2 agonist xylazine, a veterinary sedative, is increasingly detected in fentanyl used illicitly in the United States and may be causing necrotizing wounds in drug users.
• To characterize specific clinical features of xylazine-associated wounds, researchers conducted a case series at three academic medical hospitals in Philadelphia from April 2022 to February 2023.
• They included 29 patients with confirmed xylazine exposure and a chief complaint that was wound-related, seen as inpatients or in the emergency department.

TAKEAWAY:

• The 29 patients (mean age, 39.4 years; 52% men) had a total of 59 wounds, 90% were located on the arms and legs, and 69% were on the posterior upper or anterior lower extremities. Five wounds (9%) involved exposed deep structures such as the bone or tendon.
• Of the 57 wounds with available photographs, 60% had wound beds with predominantly devitalized tissue (eschar or slough), 11% were blisters, 9% had granulation tissue, and 21% had mixed tissue or other types of wound beds. Devitalized tissue was more commonly observed in medium or large wounds (odds ratio [OR], 5.2; P = .02) than in small wounds.
• As reported by patients, 48% were acute wounds, 20% were subacute, and 29% were chronic (present for 3 months or longer). Subacute and chronic wounds were often medium or large compared with acute wounds (OR, 48.5; P < .001) and contained devitalized tissue (OR, 9.5; P < .001).
• Of the 39 wounds with patient-reported etiology, 34 (87%) occurred at drug injection sites.

IN PRACTICE:

To the best of their knowledge, this is “the largest study of wounds among patients with confirmed exposure to xylazine and the first to systematically describe wound characteristics,” the authors wrote. The results, they concluded, “may help identify xylazine exposure and can guide research on the etiology and management of these wounds.”

SOURCE:

This study was conducted by Lydia Lutz, MD, Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, Baltimore, Maryland, and coinvestigators and was published online in JAMA Dermatology.

LIMITATIONS:

This single-city, retrospective study limited generalizability, and the selection of the largest wounds may bias results. Additionally, chronicity data relied on patient recall, potentially introducing recall bias.

DISCLOSURES:

Two authors received support from the National Institute on Drug Abuse for the study. The authors declared no competing interests.

This article was created using several editorial tools, including AI, as part of the process. Human editors reviewed this content before publication. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

TOPLINE:

A case series highlights the features of severe, necrotic skin wounds among hospitalized adults associated with xylazine exposure, including 9% that involved exposed deep structures such as bone or tendon.

METHODOLOGY:

• The alpha-2 agonist xylazine, a veterinary sedative, is increasingly detected in fentanyl used illicitly in the United States and may be causing necrotizing wounds in drug users.
• To characterize specific clinical features of xylazine-associated wounds, researchers conducted a case series at three academic medical hospitals in Philadelphia from April 2022 to February 2023.
• They included 29 patients with confirmed xylazine exposure and a chief complaint that was wound-related, seen as inpatients or in the emergency department.

TAKEAWAY:

• The 29 patients (mean age, 39.4 years; 52% men) had a total of 59 wounds, 90% were located on the arms and legs, and 69% were on the posterior upper or anterior lower extremities. Five wounds (9%) involved exposed deep structures such as the bone or tendon.
• Of the 57 wounds with available photographs, 60% had wound beds with predominantly devitalized tissue (eschar or slough), 11% were blisters, 9% had granulation tissue, and 21% had mixed tissue or other types of wound beds. Devitalized tissue was more commonly observed in medium or large wounds (odds ratio [OR], 5.2; P = .02) than in small wounds.
• As reported by patients, 48% were acute wounds, 20% were subacute, and 29% were chronic (present for 3 months or longer). Subacute and chronic wounds were often medium or large compared with acute wounds (OR, 48.5; P < .001) and contained devitalized tissue (OR, 9.5; P < .001).
• Of the 39 wounds with patient-reported etiology, 34 (87%) occurred at drug injection sites.

IN PRACTICE:

To the best of their knowledge, this is “the largest study of wounds among patients with confirmed exposure to xylazine and the first to systematically describe wound characteristics,” the authors wrote. The results, they concluded, “may help identify xylazine exposure and can guide research on the etiology and management of these wounds.”

SOURCE:

This study was conducted by Lydia Lutz, MD, Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, Baltimore, Maryland, and coinvestigators and was published online in JAMA Dermatology.

LIMITATIONS:

This single-city, retrospective study limited generalizability, and the selection of the largest wounds may bias results. Additionally, chronicity data relied on patient recall, potentially introducing recall bias.

DISCLOSURES:

Two authors received support from the National Institute on Drug Abuse for the study. The authors declared no competing interests.

This article was created using several editorial tools, including AI, as part of the process. Human editors reviewed this content before publication. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

TOPLINE:

Combining transcranial direct current stimulation (tDCS) and repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation (rTMS) was associated with a greater reduction in symptoms of major depressive disorder (MDD) than either treatment alone, a new study showed.

 

METHODOLOGY:

• Researchers conducted a double-blind, sham-controlled randomized clinical trial from 2021 to 2023 at three hospitals in China with 240 participants with MDD (mean age, 32.5 years; 58% women).
• Participants received active tDCS + active rTMS, sham tDCS + active rTMS, active tDCS + sham rTMS, or sham tDCS + sham rTMS with treatments administered five times per week for 2 weeks.
• tDCS was administered in 20-minute sessions using a 2-mA direct current stimulator, whereas rTMS involved 1600 pulses of 10-Hz stimulation targeting the left dorsolateral prefrontal cortex. Sham treatments used a pseudostimulation coil and only emitted sound.
• The primary outcome was change in the 24-item Hamilton Depression Rating Scale (HDRS-24) total score from baseline to week 2.
• Secondary outcomes included HDRS-24 total score change at week 4, remission rate (HDRS-24 total score ≤ 9), response rate (≥ 50% reduction in HDRS-24 total score), and adverse events.

TAKEAWAY:

• The active tDCS + active rTMS group demonstrated the greatest reduction in mean HDRS-24 score (18.33 ± 5.39) at week 2 compared with sham tDCS + active rTMS, active tDCS + sham rTMS, and sham tDCS + sham rTMS (P < .001).
• Response rates at week 2 were notably higher in the active tDCS + active rTMS group (85%) than in the active tDCS + sham rTMS (30%) and sham tDCS + sham rTMS groups (32%).
• The remission rate at week 4 reached 83% in the active tDCS + active rTMS group, which was significantly higher than the remission rates with the other interventions (P < .001).
• The treatments were well tolerated, with no serious adverse events, seizures, or manic symptoms reported across all intervention groups.

IN PRACTICE:

This trial “was the first to evaluate the safety, feasibility, and efficacy of combining tDCS and rTMS in treating depression. Future studies should focus on investigating the mechanism of this synergistic effect and improving the stimulation parameters to optimize the therapeutic effect,” the investigators wrote.

 

SOURCE:

This study was led by Dongsheng Zhou, MD, Ningbo Kangning Hospital, Ningbo, China. It was published online in JAMA Network Open.

 

LIMITATIONS:

The brief treatment duration involving 10 sessions may have been insufficient for tDCS and rTMS to demonstrate their full antidepressant potential. The inability to regulate participants’ antidepressant medications throughout the study period presented another limitation. Additionally, the lack of stratified randomization and adjustment for center effects may have introduced variability in the results.

 

DISCLOSURES:

This study received support from multiple grants, including from the Natural Science Foundation of Zhejiang Province, Basic Public Welfare Research Project of Zhejiang Province, Ningbo Medical and Health Brand Discipline, Ningbo Clinical Medical Research Centre for Mental Health, Ningbo Top Medical and Health Research Program, and the Zhejiang Medical and Health Science and Technology Plan Project. The authors reported no conflicts of interest.

This article was created using several editorial tools, including AI, as part of the process. Human editors reviewed this content before publication. A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

TOPLINE:

Combining transcranial direct current stimulation (tDCS) and repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation (rTMS) was associated with a greater reduction in symptoms of major depressive disorder (MDD) than either treatment alone, a new study showed.

 

METHODOLOGY:

• Researchers conducted a double-blind, sham-controlled randomized clinical trial from 2021 to 2023 at three hospitals in China with 240 participants with MDD (mean age, 32.5 years; 58% women).
• Participants received active tDCS + active rTMS, sham tDCS + active rTMS, active tDCS + sham rTMS, or sham tDCS + sham rTMS with treatments administered five times per week for 2 weeks.
• tDCS was administered in 20-minute sessions using a 2-mA direct current stimulator, whereas rTMS involved 1600 pulses of 10-Hz stimulation targeting the left dorsolateral prefrontal cortex. Sham treatments used a pseudostimulation coil and only emitted sound.
• The primary outcome was change in the 24-item Hamilton Depression Rating Scale (HDRS-24) total score from baseline to week 2.
• Secondary outcomes included HDRS-24 total score change at week 4, remission rate (HDRS-24 total score ≤ 9), response rate (≥ 50% reduction in HDRS-24 total score), and adverse events.

TAKEAWAY:

• The active tDCS + active rTMS group demonstrated the greatest reduction in mean HDRS-24 score (18.33 ± 5.39) at week 2 compared with sham tDCS + active rTMS, active tDCS + sham rTMS, and sham tDCS + sham rTMS (P < .001).
• Response rates at week 2 were notably higher in the active tDCS + active rTMS group (85%) than in the active tDCS + sham rTMS (30%) and sham tDCS + sham rTMS groups (32%).
• The remission rate at week 4 reached 83% in the active tDCS + active rTMS group, which was significantly higher than the remission rates with the other interventions (P < .001).
• The treatments were well tolerated, with no serious adverse events, seizures, or manic symptoms reported across all intervention groups.

IN PRACTICE:

This trial “was the first to evaluate the safety, feasibility, and efficacy of combining tDCS and rTMS in treating depression. Future studies should focus on investigating the mechanism of this synergistic effect and improving the stimulation parameters to optimize the therapeutic effect,” the investigators wrote.

 

SOURCE:

This study was led by Dongsheng Zhou, MD, Ningbo Kangning Hospital, Ningbo, China. It was published online in JAMA Network Open.

 

LIMITATIONS:

The brief treatment duration involving 10 sessions may have been insufficient for tDCS and rTMS to demonstrate their full antidepressant potential. The inability to regulate participants’ antidepressant medications throughout the study period presented another limitation. Additionally, the lack of stratified randomization and adjustment for center effects may have introduced variability in the results.

 

DISCLOSURES:

This study received support from multiple grants, including from the Natural Science Foundation of Zhejiang Province, Basic Public Welfare Research Project of Zhejiang Province, Ningbo Medical and Health Brand Discipline, Ningbo Clinical Medical Research Centre for Mental Health, Ningbo Top Medical and Health Research Program, and the Zhejiang Medical and Health Science and Technology Plan Project. The authors reported no conflicts of interest.

This article was created using several editorial tools, including AI, as part of the process. Human editors reviewed this content before publication. A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

TOPLINE:

Combining transcranial direct current stimulation (tDCS) and repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation (rTMS) was associated with a greater reduction in symptoms of major depressive disorder (MDD) than either treatment alone, a new study showed.

 

METHODOLOGY:

• Researchers conducted a double-blind, sham-controlled randomized clinical trial from 2021 to 2023 at three hospitals in China with 240 participants with MDD (mean age, 32.5 years; 58% women).
• Participants received active tDCS + active rTMS, sham tDCS + active rTMS, active tDCS + sham rTMS, or sham tDCS + sham rTMS with treatments administered five times per week for 2 weeks.
• tDCS was administered in 20-minute sessions using a 2-mA direct current stimulator, whereas rTMS involved 1600 pulses of 10-Hz stimulation targeting the left dorsolateral prefrontal cortex. Sham treatments used a pseudostimulation coil and only emitted sound.
• The primary outcome was change in the 24-item Hamilton Depression Rating Scale (HDRS-24) total score from baseline to week 2.
• Secondary outcomes included HDRS-24 total score change at week 4, remission rate (HDRS-24 total score ≤ 9), response rate (≥ 50% reduction in HDRS-24 total score), and adverse events.

TAKEAWAY:

• The active tDCS + active rTMS group demonstrated the greatest reduction in mean HDRS-24 score (18.33 ± 5.39) at week 2 compared with sham tDCS + active rTMS, active tDCS + sham rTMS, and sham tDCS + sham rTMS (P < .001).
• Response rates at week 2 were notably higher in the active tDCS + active rTMS group (85%) than in the active tDCS + sham rTMS (30%) and sham tDCS + sham rTMS groups (32%).
• The remission rate at week 4 reached 83% in the active tDCS + active rTMS group, which was significantly higher than the remission rates with the other interventions (P < .001).
• The treatments were well tolerated, with no serious adverse events, seizures, or manic symptoms reported across all intervention groups.

IN PRACTICE:

This trial “was the first to evaluate the safety, feasibility, and efficacy of combining tDCS and rTMS in treating depression. Future studies should focus on investigating the mechanism of this synergistic effect and improving the stimulation parameters to optimize the therapeutic effect,” the investigators wrote.

 

SOURCE:

This study was led by Dongsheng Zhou, MD, Ningbo Kangning Hospital, Ningbo, China. It was published online in JAMA Network Open.

 

LIMITATIONS:

The brief treatment duration involving 10 sessions may have been insufficient for tDCS and rTMS to demonstrate their full antidepressant potential. The inability to regulate participants’ antidepressant medications throughout the study period presented another limitation. Additionally, the lack of stratified randomization and adjustment for center effects may have introduced variability in the results.

 

DISCLOSURES:

This study received support from multiple grants, including from the Natural Science Foundation of Zhejiang Province, Basic Public Welfare Research Project of Zhejiang Province, Ningbo Medical and Health Brand Discipline, Ningbo Clinical Medical Research Centre for Mental Health, Ningbo Top Medical and Health Research Program, and the Zhejiang Medical and Health Science and Technology Plan Project. The authors reported no conflicts of interest.

This article was created using several editorial tools, including AI, as part of the process. Human editors reviewed this content before publication. A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Most of my writing starts on paper. I’ve stacks of Docket Gold legal pads, yellow and college ruled, filled with Sharpie S-Gel black ink. There are many scratch-outs and arrows, but no doodles. I’m genetically not a doodler. The draft of this essay however was interrupted by a graphic. It is a round figure with stick arms and legs. Somewhat centered are two intense scribbles, which represent eyes. A few loopy curls rest on top. It looks like a Mr. Potato Head, with owl eyes. 

“Ah, art!” I say when I flip up the page and discover this spontaneous self-portrait of my 4-year-old. Using the media she had on hand, she let free her stored creative energy, an energy we all seem to have. “Tell me about what you’ve drawn here,” I say. She’s eager to share. Art is a natural way to connect. 

My patients have shown me many similar self-portraits. Last week, the artist was a 71-year-old woman. She came with her friend, a 73-year-old woman, who is also my patient. They accompany each other on all their visits. She chose a small realtor pad with a color photo of a blonde with her arms folded and back against a graphic of a house. My patient managed to fit her sketch on the small, lined space, noting with tiny scribbles the lesions she wanted me to check. Although unnecessary, she added eyes, nose, and mouth. 

Another drawing was from a middle-aged white man. He has a look that suggests he rises early. His was on white printer paper, which he withdrew from a folder. He drew both a front and back view indicating with precision where I might find the spots he had mapped on his portrait. A retired teacher brought hers  with a notably proportional anatomy and uniform tick marks on her face, arms, and legs. It reminded me of a self-portrait by the artist Frida Kahlo’s “The Broken Column.” 

Kahlo was born with polio and suffered a severe bus accident as a young woman. She is one of many artists who shared their suffering through their art. “The Broken Column” depicts her with nails running from her face down her right short, weak leg. They look like the ticks my patient had added to her own self-portrait.  

I’ve viewed countless other patient self-portraits through my years of practice. Some stick figures, others with individually drawn fingers and toes. I remember in my neurology rotation asking patients to draw a clock. Stroke patients leave a whole half missing. Patients with dementia often crunch all the numbers into a little corner of the circle or forget to add the hands. Some of my dermatology patient self-portraits looked like that. I sometimes wonder if they also need a neurologist.

These pieces of patient art are utilitarian, drawn to narrate the story of what brought them to see me. Yet patients often add superfluous detail, demonstrating that utility and aesthetics are inseparable. I hold their drawings in the best light and notice the features and attributes. It helps me see their concerns from their point of view and primes me to notice other details during the physical exam. Viewing patients’ drawings can help build something called narrative competence the “ability to acknowledge, absorb, interpret, and act on the stories and plights of others.” Like Kahlo, patients are trying to share something with us, universal and recognizable. Art is how we connect to each other. 

 

A few months ago, I walked in  a room to see a consult. A white man in his 30s, he had prematurely graying hair and 80s-hip frames for glasses. He explained he was there for a skin screening and stood without warning, taking a step toward me. Like Michelangelo on wet plaster, he had grabbed a purple surgical marker to draw a self-portrait on the exam paper, the table set to just the right height and pitch to be an easel. It was the ginger-bread-man-type portrait with thick arms and legs and frosting-like dots marking the spots of concern. He marked L and R on the sheet, which were opposite what they would be if he was sitting facing me. But this was a self-portrait and he was drawing as it was with him facing the canvas, of course. “Ah, art!” I thought, and said, “Delightful! Tell me about what you’ve drawn here.” And so he did. A faint shadow of his portrait remains on that exam table to this day for every patient to see.

Benabio is chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on X. Write to him at dermnews@mdedge.com.

Most of my writing starts on paper. I’ve stacks of Docket Gold legal pads, yellow and college ruled, filled with Sharpie S-Gel black ink. There are many scratch-outs and arrows, but no doodles. I’m genetically not a doodler. The draft of this essay however was interrupted by a graphic. It is a round figure with stick arms and legs. Somewhat centered are two intense scribbles, which represent eyes. A few loopy curls rest on top. It looks like a Mr. Potato Head, with owl eyes. 

“Ah, art!” I say when I flip up the page and discover this spontaneous self-portrait of my 4-year-old. Using the media she had on hand, she let free her stored creative energy, an energy we all seem to have. “Tell me about what you’ve drawn here,” I say. She’s eager to share. Art is a natural way to connect. 

My patients have shown me many similar self-portraits. Last week, the artist was a 71-year-old woman. She came with her friend, a 73-year-old woman, who is also my patient. They accompany each other on all their visits. She chose a small realtor pad with a color photo of a blonde with her arms folded and back against a graphic of a house. My patient managed to fit her sketch on the small, lined space, noting with tiny scribbles the lesions she wanted me to check. Although unnecessary, she added eyes, nose, and mouth. 

Another drawing was from a middle-aged white man. He has a look that suggests he rises early. His was on white printer paper, which he withdrew from a folder. He drew both a front and back view indicating with precision where I might find the spots he had mapped on his portrait. A retired teacher brought hers  with a notably proportional anatomy and uniform tick marks on her face, arms, and legs. It reminded me of a self-portrait by the artist Frida Kahlo’s “The Broken Column.” 

Kahlo was born with polio and suffered a severe bus accident as a young woman. She is one of many artists who shared their suffering through their art. “The Broken Column” depicts her with nails running from her face down her right short, weak leg. They look like the ticks my patient had added to her own self-portrait.  

I’ve viewed countless other patient self-portraits through my years of practice. Some stick figures, others with individually drawn fingers and toes. I remember in my neurology rotation asking patients to draw a clock. Stroke patients leave a whole half missing. Patients with dementia often crunch all the numbers into a little corner of the circle or forget to add the hands. Some of my dermatology patient self-portraits looked like that. I sometimes wonder if they also need a neurologist.

These pieces of patient art are utilitarian, drawn to narrate the story of what brought them to see me. Yet patients often add superfluous detail, demonstrating that utility and aesthetics are inseparable. I hold their drawings in the best light and notice the features and attributes. It helps me see their concerns from their point of view and primes me to notice other details during the physical exam. Viewing patients’ drawings can help build something called narrative competence the “ability to acknowledge, absorb, interpret, and act on the stories and plights of others.” Like Kahlo, patients are trying to share something with us, universal and recognizable. Art is how we connect to each other. 

 

A few months ago, I walked in  a room to see a consult. A white man in his 30s, he had prematurely graying hair and 80s-hip frames for glasses. He explained he was there for a skin screening and stood without warning, taking a step toward me. Like Michelangelo on wet plaster, he had grabbed a purple surgical marker to draw a self-portrait on the exam paper, the table set to just the right height and pitch to be an easel. It was the ginger-bread-man-type portrait with thick arms and legs and frosting-like dots marking the spots of concern. He marked L and R on the sheet, which were opposite what they would be if he was sitting facing me. But this was a self-portrait and he was drawing as it was with him facing the canvas, of course. “Ah, art!” I thought, and said, “Delightful! Tell me about what you’ve drawn here.” And so he did. A faint shadow of his portrait remains on that exam table to this day for every patient to see.

Benabio is chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on X. Write to him at dermnews@mdedge.com.

Most of my writing starts on paper. I’ve stacks of Docket Gold legal pads, yellow and college ruled, filled with Sharpie S-Gel black ink. There are many scratch-outs and arrows, but no doodles. I’m genetically not a doodler. The draft of this essay however was interrupted by a graphic. It is a round figure with stick arms and legs. Somewhat centered are two intense scribbles, which represent eyes. A few loopy curls rest on top. It looks like a Mr. Potato Head, with owl eyes. 

“Ah, art!” I say when I flip up the page and discover this spontaneous self-portrait of my 4-year-old. Using the media she had on hand, she let free her stored creative energy, an energy we all seem to have. “Tell me about what you’ve drawn here,” I say. She’s eager to share. Art is a natural way to connect. 

My patients have shown me many similar self-portraits. Last week, the artist was a 71-year-old woman. She came with her friend, a 73-year-old woman, who is also my patient. They accompany each other on all their visits. She chose a small realtor pad with a color photo of a blonde with her arms folded and back against a graphic of a house. My patient managed to fit her sketch on the small, lined space, noting with tiny scribbles the lesions she wanted me to check. Although unnecessary, she added eyes, nose, and mouth. 

Another drawing was from a middle-aged white man. He has a look that suggests he rises early. His was on white printer paper, which he withdrew from a folder. He drew both a front and back view indicating with precision where I might find the spots he had mapped on his portrait. A retired teacher brought hers  with a notably proportional anatomy and uniform tick marks on her face, arms, and legs. It reminded me of a self-portrait by the artist Frida Kahlo’s “The Broken Column.” 

Kahlo was born with polio and suffered a severe bus accident as a young woman. She is one of many artists who shared their suffering through their art. “The Broken Column” depicts her with nails running from her face down her right short, weak leg. They look like the ticks my patient had added to her own self-portrait.  

I’ve viewed countless other patient self-portraits through my years of practice. Some stick figures, others with individually drawn fingers and toes. I remember in my neurology rotation asking patients to draw a clock. Stroke patients leave a whole half missing. Patients with dementia often crunch all the numbers into a little corner of the circle or forget to add the hands. Some of my dermatology patient self-portraits looked like that. I sometimes wonder if they also need a neurologist.

These pieces of patient art are utilitarian, drawn to narrate the story of what brought them to see me. Yet patients often add superfluous detail, demonstrating that utility and aesthetics are inseparable. I hold their drawings in the best light and notice the features and attributes. It helps me see their concerns from their point of view and primes me to notice other details during the physical exam. Viewing patients’ drawings can help build something called narrative competence the “ability to acknowledge, absorb, interpret, and act on the stories and plights of others.” Like Kahlo, patients are trying to share something with us, universal and recognizable. Art is how we connect to each other. 

 

A few months ago, I walked in  a room to see a consult. A white man in his 30s, he had prematurely graying hair and 80s-hip frames for glasses. He explained he was there for a skin screening and stood without warning, taking a step toward me. Like Michelangelo on wet plaster, he had grabbed a purple surgical marker to draw a self-portrait on the exam paper, the table set to just the right height and pitch to be an easel. It was the ginger-bread-man-type portrait with thick arms and legs and frosting-like dots marking the spots of concern. He marked L and R on the sheet, which were opposite what they would be if he was sitting facing me. But this was a self-portrait and he was drawing as it was with him facing the canvas, of course. “Ah, art!” I thought, and said, “Delightful! Tell me about what you’ve drawn here.” And so he did. A faint shadow of his portrait remains on that exam table to this day for every patient to see.

Benabio is chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on X. Write to him at dermnews@mdedge.com.

A population-based study has shown a slightly elevated risk for patients’ developing skin disorders, including alopecia areata (AA), alopecia totalis (AT), vitiligo, and bullous pemphigoid (BP), more than 6 months after COVID-19 infection. In addition, the authors reported that COVID-19 vaccination appears to reduce these risks.

The study was published in JAMA Dermatology.

 

‘Compelling Evidence’

“This well-executed study by Heo et al provides compelling evidence to support an association between COVID-19 infection and the development of subsequent autoimmune and autoinflammatory skin diseases,” wrote authors led by Lisa M. Arkin, MD, of the Department of Dermatology, University of Wisconsin School of Medicine and Public Health in Madison, in an accompanying editorial.

Using databases from Korea’s National Health Insurance Service and the Korea Disease Control and Prevention Agency, investigators led by Yeon-Woo Heo, MD, a dermatology resident at Yonsei University Wonju College of Medicine, Wonju, Republic of Korea, compared 3.1 million people who had COVID-19 with 3.8 million controls, all with at least 180 days’ follow-up through December 31, 2022.

At a mean follow-up of 287 days in both cohorts, authors found significantly elevated risks for AA and vitiligo (adjusted hazard ratio [aHR], 1.11 for both), AT (aHR, 1.24), Behçet disease (aHR, 1.45), and BP (aHR, 1.62) in the post–COVID-19 cohort. The infection also raised the risk for other conditions such as systemic lupus erythematosus (aHR, 1.14) and Crohn’s disease (aHR, 1.35).

In subgroup analyses, demographic factors were associated with diverse effects: COVID-19 infection was associated with significantly higher odds of developing AA (for both men and women), vitiligo (men), Behçet disease (men and women), Crohn’s disease (men), ulcerative colitis (men), rheumatoid arthritis (men and women), systemic lupus erythematosus (men), ankylosing spondylitis (men), AT (women), and BP (women) than controls.

Those aged under 40 years were more likely to develop AA, primary cicatricial alopecia, Behçet disease, and ulcerative colitis, while those aged 40 years or older were more likely to develop AA, AT, vitiligo, Behçet disease, Crohn’s disease, rheumatoid arthritis, systemic lupus erythematosus, Sjögren’s syndrome, ankylosing spondylitis, and BP.

Additionally, severe COVID-19 requiring intensive care unit admission was associated with a significantly increased risk for autoimmune diseases, including AA, psoriasis, BP, and sarcoidosis. By timeframe, risks for AA, AT, and psoriasis were significantly higher during the initial Delta-dominant period.

 

Vaccination Effect

Moreover, vaccinated individuals were less likely to develop AA, AT, psoriasis, Behçet disease, and various nondermatologic conditions than were those who were unvaccinated. This finding, wrote Heo and colleagues, “may provide evidence to support the hypothesis that COVID-19 vaccines can help prevent autoimmune diseases.”

“That’s the part we all need to take into our offices tomorrow,” said Brett King, MD, PhD, a Fairfield, Connecticut–based dermatologist in private practice. He was not involved with the study but was asked to comment.

Overall, King said, the study carries two main messages. “The first is that COVID-19 infection increases the likelihood of developing an autoimmune or autoinflammatory disease in a large population.” The second and very important message is that being vaccinated against COVID-19 provides protection against developing an autoimmune or autoinflammatory disease.

“My concern is that the popular media highlights the first part,” said King, “and everybody who develops alopecia areata, vitiligo, or sarcoidosis blames COVID-19. That’s not what this work says.”

The foregoing distinction is especially important during the fall and winter, he added, when people getting influenza vaccines are routinely offered COVID-19 vaccines. “Many patients have said, ‘I got the COVID vaccine and developed alopecia areata 6 months later.’ Nearly everybody who has developed a new or worsening health condition in the last almost 5 years has had the perfect fall guy — the COVID vaccine or infection.”

With virtually all patients asking if they should get an updated COVID-19 vaccine or booster, he added, many report having heard that such vaccines cause AA, vitiligo, or other diseases. “To anchor these conversations in real data and not just anecdotes from a blog or Facebook is very useful,” said King, “and now we have very good data saying that the COVID vaccine is protective against these disorders.”

George Han, MD, PhD, associate professor of dermatology at the Donald and Barbara Zucker School of Medicine at Hofstra/Northwell in Hempstead, New York, applauds investigators’ use of a large, robust database but suggests interpreting results cautiously. He was not involved with the study but was asked to comment.

“You could do a large, well-done study,” Han said, “but it could still not necessarily be generalizable. These autoimmune conditions they’re looking at have clear ethnic and racial biases.” Heo and colleagues acknowledged shortcomings including their study population’s monomorphic nature.

Additional issues that limit the study’s impact, said Han, include the difficulty of conceptualizing a 10%-20% increase in conditions that at baseline are rare. And many of the findings reflected natural patterns, he said. For instance, BP more commonly affects older people, COVID-19 notwithstanding.

Han said that for him, the study’s main value going forward is helping to explain a rash of worsening inflammatory skin disease that many dermatologists saw early in the pandemic. “We would regularly see patients who were well controlled with, for example, psoriasis or eczema. But after COVID-19 infection or a vaccine (usually mRNA-type), in some cases they would come in flaring badly.” This happened at least a dozen times during the first year of post-shutdown appointments, he said.

“We’ve seen patients who have flared multiple times — they get the booster, then flare again,” Han added. Similar patterns occurred with pyoderma gangrenosum and other inflammatory skin diseases, he said.

Given the modest effect sizes of the associations reported in the Korean study, Arkin and colleagues wrote in their JAMA Dermatology editorial that surveillance for autoimmune disease is probably not warranted without new examination findings or symptoms. “For certain,” King said, “we should not go hunting for things that aren’t obviously there.”

Rather, Arkin and colleagues wrote, the higher autoimmunity rates seen among the unvaccinated, as well as during the Delta phase (when patients were sicker and hospitalizations were more likely) and in patients requiring intensive care, suggest that “interventions that reduce disease severity could also potentially reduce long-term risk of subsequent autoimmune sequelae.”

Future research addressing whether people with preexisting autoimmune conditions are at greater risk for flares or developing new autoimmune diseases following COVID-19 infection “would help to frame an evidence-based approach for patients with autoimmune disorders who develop COVID-19 infection, including the role for antiviral treatments,” they added.

The study was supported by grants from the Research Program of the Korea Medical Institute, the Korea Health Industry Development Institute, and the National Research Foundation of Korea. Han and King reported no relevant financial relationships. Arkin disclosed receiving research grants to her institution from Amgen and Eli Lilly, personal fees from Sanofi/Regeneron for consulting, and personal consulting fees from Merck outside the submitted work. Another author reported personal consulting fees from Dexcel Pharma and Honeydew outside the submitted work. No other disclosures were reported.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

A population-based study has shown a slightly elevated risk for patients’ developing skin disorders, including alopecia areata (AA), alopecia totalis (AT), vitiligo, and bullous pemphigoid (BP), more than 6 months after COVID-19 infection. In addition, the authors reported that COVID-19 vaccination appears to reduce these risks.

The study was published in JAMA Dermatology.

 

‘Compelling Evidence’

“This well-executed study by Heo et al provides compelling evidence to support an association between COVID-19 infection and the development of subsequent autoimmune and autoinflammatory skin diseases,” wrote authors led by Lisa M. Arkin, MD, of the Department of Dermatology, University of Wisconsin School of Medicine and Public Health in Madison, in an accompanying editorial.

Using databases from Korea’s National Health Insurance Service and the Korea Disease Control and Prevention Agency, investigators led by Yeon-Woo Heo, MD, a dermatology resident at Yonsei University Wonju College of Medicine, Wonju, Republic of Korea, compared 3.1 million people who had COVID-19 with 3.8 million controls, all with at least 180 days’ follow-up through December 31, 2022.

At a mean follow-up of 287 days in both cohorts, authors found significantly elevated risks for AA and vitiligo (adjusted hazard ratio [aHR], 1.11 for both), AT (aHR, 1.24), Behçet disease (aHR, 1.45), and BP (aHR, 1.62) in the post–COVID-19 cohort. The infection also raised the risk for other conditions such as systemic lupus erythematosus (aHR, 1.14) and Crohn’s disease (aHR, 1.35).

In subgroup analyses, demographic factors were associated with diverse effects: COVID-19 infection was associated with significantly higher odds of developing AA (for both men and women), vitiligo (men), Behçet disease (men and women), Crohn’s disease (men), ulcerative colitis (men), rheumatoid arthritis (men and women), systemic lupus erythematosus (men), ankylosing spondylitis (men), AT (women), and BP (women) than controls.

Those aged under 40 years were more likely to develop AA, primary cicatricial alopecia, Behçet disease, and ulcerative colitis, while those aged 40 years or older were more likely to develop AA, AT, vitiligo, Behçet disease, Crohn’s disease, rheumatoid arthritis, systemic lupus erythematosus, Sjögren’s syndrome, ankylosing spondylitis, and BP.

Additionally, severe COVID-19 requiring intensive care unit admission was associated with a significantly increased risk for autoimmune diseases, including AA, psoriasis, BP, and sarcoidosis. By timeframe, risks for AA, AT, and psoriasis were significantly higher during the initial Delta-dominant period.

 

Vaccination Effect

Moreover, vaccinated individuals were less likely to develop AA, AT, psoriasis, Behçet disease, and various nondermatologic conditions than were those who were unvaccinated. This finding, wrote Heo and colleagues, “may provide evidence to support the hypothesis that COVID-19 vaccines can help prevent autoimmune diseases.”

“That’s the part we all need to take into our offices tomorrow,” said Brett King, MD, PhD, a Fairfield, Connecticut–based dermatologist in private practice. He was not involved with the study but was asked to comment.

Overall, King said, the study carries two main messages. “The first is that COVID-19 infection increases the likelihood of developing an autoimmune or autoinflammatory disease in a large population.” The second and very important message is that being vaccinated against COVID-19 provides protection against developing an autoimmune or autoinflammatory disease.

“My concern is that the popular media highlights the first part,” said King, “and everybody who develops alopecia areata, vitiligo, or sarcoidosis blames COVID-19. That’s not what this work says.”

The foregoing distinction is especially important during the fall and winter, he added, when people getting influenza vaccines are routinely offered COVID-19 vaccines. “Many patients have said, ‘I got the COVID vaccine and developed alopecia areata 6 months later.’ Nearly everybody who has developed a new or worsening health condition in the last almost 5 years has had the perfect fall guy — the COVID vaccine or infection.”

With virtually all patients asking if they should get an updated COVID-19 vaccine or booster, he added, many report having heard that such vaccines cause AA, vitiligo, or other diseases. “To anchor these conversations in real data and not just anecdotes from a blog or Facebook is very useful,” said King, “and now we have very good data saying that the COVID vaccine is protective against these disorders.”

George Han, MD, PhD, associate professor of dermatology at the Donald and Barbara Zucker School of Medicine at Hofstra/Northwell in Hempstead, New York, applauds investigators’ use of a large, robust database but suggests interpreting results cautiously. He was not involved with the study but was asked to comment.

“You could do a large, well-done study,” Han said, “but it could still not necessarily be generalizable. These autoimmune conditions they’re looking at have clear ethnic and racial biases.” Heo and colleagues acknowledged shortcomings including their study population’s monomorphic nature.

Additional issues that limit the study’s impact, said Han, include the difficulty of conceptualizing a 10%-20% increase in conditions that at baseline are rare. And many of the findings reflected natural patterns, he said. For instance, BP more commonly affects older people, COVID-19 notwithstanding.

Han said that for him, the study’s main value going forward is helping to explain a rash of worsening inflammatory skin disease that many dermatologists saw early in the pandemic. “We would regularly see patients who were well controlled with, for example, psoriasis or eczema. But after COVID-19 infection or a vaccine (usually mRNA-type), in some cases they would come in flaring badly.” This happened at least a dozen times during the first year of post-shutdown appointments, he said.

“We’ve seen patients who have flared multiple times — they get the booster, then flare again,” Han added. Similar patterns occurred with pyoderma gangrenosum and other inflammatory skin diseases, he said.

Given the modest effect sizes of the associations reported in the Korean study, Arkin and colleagues wrote in their JAMA Dermatology editorial that surveillance for autoimmune disease is probably not warranted without new examination findings or symptoms. “For certain,” King said, “we should not go hunting for things that aren’t obviously there.”

Rather, Arkin and colleagues wrote, the higher autoimmunity rates seen among the unvaccinated, as well as during the Delta phase (when patients were sicker and hospitalizations were more likely) and in patients requiring intensive care, suggest that “interventions that reduce disease severity could also potentially reduce long-term risk of subsequent autoimmune sequelae.”

Future research addressing whether people with preexisting autoimmune conditions are at greater risk for flares or developing new autoimmune diseases following COVID-19 infection “would help to frame an evidence-based approach for patients with autoimmune disorders who develop COVID-19 infection, including the role for antiviral treatments,” they added.

The study was supported by grants from the Research Program of the Korea Medical Institute, the Korea Health Industry Development Institute, and the National Research Foundation of Korea. Han and King reported no relevant financial relationships. Arkin disclosed receiving research grants to her institution from Amgen and Eli Lilly, personal fees from Sanofi/Regeneron for consulting, and personal consulting fees from Merck outside the submitted work. Another author reported personal consulting fees from Dexcel Pharma and Honeydew outside the submitted work. No other disclosures were reported.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

A population-based study has shown a slightly elevated risk for patients’ developing skin disorders, including alopecia areata (AA), alopecia totalis (AT), vitiligo, and bullous pemphigoid (BP), more than 6 months after COVID-19 infection. In addition, the authors reported that COVID-19 vaccination appears to reduce these risks.