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An Injectable Drug for Osteoporosis Gives Some Patients Hope, Despite Worries         

By Rita Zeidner, the
Washington Post

March 16, 2004  


An injectable drug for osteoporosis gives some patients hope, despite warnings and worries  

The clutter in my parents' kitchen sometimes gives me clues about their health that I don't get through more direct means.  

When either of them gets sick, for instance, the counter usually reserved for the occasional baked good becomes a jumble of medicine bottles. The gradual disappearance of the little vials reveals when they are on the mend.  

But none of my parents' past bouts with illness prepared me for the appearance last month of a small cardboard box. A label identified the contents as hypodermic needles.  

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," my mother said casually, once she sensed that it wasn't cookies I was staring at. "It's not what you think."  

Neither she nor my dad, she assured me, had developed diabetes or become insulin-dependent. That was a relief. The bad news was that a recent bone mineral density scan revealed that my mother's spine was disintegrating rapidly.  

My mother, now 75, had been diagnosed with osteoporosis five years earlier. By then she had already lost more than an inch in height and had begun to develop a slight rounding in her shoulders -- often a precursor to a dowager's hump. Following his diagnosis, her doctor put her on a regimen of Evista (raloxifene) and later Fosamax (alendronate). Both drugs commonly are prescribed to slow breakdown of bone.  

What was shocking, however, was the degree to which the drugs had failed her. In the two years since her last bone density test, bone mass in her spine had decreased by nearly 10 percent -- a significant and worrisome change, her internist warned her. Taking into account her age and the fact that a hairline fracture had been detected in her upper spine in earlier tests, she was at alarming risk statistically of developing additional fractures.  

After reviewing her latest scan, her doctor suggested she see a specialist who was beginning to do work with teriparatide, a genetically engineered hormone approved in 2002 by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA). Made by Eli Lilly and Co. and marketed under the trade name Forteo, the drug contains a synthetic form of human parathyroid hormone, the primary regulator of calcium and phosphate in bones. The drug is indicated for people just like my mom -- postmenopausal women already diagnosed with osteoporosis who are at an elevated risk of fracture -- as well as for men with the condition.  

Because Forteo would be broken down quickly during the digestive process, it can't be taken orally -- it must be taken by injection in the stomach or thigh. Lilly packages the drug in pre-loaded pen-like devices, each containing enough medication for 28 days. The pen regulates each squirt, so patients needn't worry about getting the dosage wrong. All they need to do is screw in a fresh needle daily and inject.  

Those were the needles sitting on the kitchen counter.  

What a Blast  

More than the method of administration separates Forteo from other osteoporosis drugs. Earlier, so-called anti-resorptive treatments -- including commonly prescribed nonhormonal treatments like the bisphosphonates Fosamax and Actonel (alendronate and risedronate, respectively) and the selective estrogen receptor modulator, or SERM, Evista (raloxifene) -- work by inhibiting the growth of bone-eating cells known as osteoclasts. Forteo, in contrast, has been shown to not only stop the growth of osteoclasts, but to replace the bone eaten away by osteoporosis by increasing the number and action of bone-forming cells called osteoblasts.

The FDA's approval of Forteo was based on the findings of some two dozen clinical trials in 17 countries enrolling more than 2,800 women and men, according to Lilly and FDA documents.  

In one randomized, placebo-controlled study funded by Lilly and published in the New England Journal of Medicine, researchers reported that daily teriparatide injections given over an average of 21 months to 1,637 postmenopausal women with osteoporosis increased bone mineral density of the spine and reduced the risk of new vertebral fractures by more than 65 percent over placebo. Forteo's benefits exceeded those reported for other treatments in similar women, the researchers concluded.  

Forteo also increased bone mineral density in men, the study found, though it did not look at fracture risk reduction in men.  

A possible added benefit of teriparatide is that it may build new bone even after a patient stops taking it, said Robert Lindsay, chief of internal medicine at the Helen Hayes Hospital in West Haverstraw, N.Y. This tantalizing possibility is based on observational data collected from more than 1,200 participants in Lilly's earlier studies.  

In terms of finding a cure for osteoporosis, Lindsay said, Forteo "points the way."  

A Bone to Pick  

Once it became clear that the anti-resorptive treatments weren't working for her, my mom was glad to learn she had an alternative. My mother's mother, who died in 1995 at age 90, was never actually diagnosed with osteoporosis. But she had many of the classic symptoms as she aged, including a dramatic postmenopausal loss of height and an increased tendency to fall for no apparent reason. Some of these falls resulted in painful injuries.  

Understandably, my mother didn't want to follow suit.  

Mom also understood that the damage being done by osteoporosis likely could extend beyond her skeleton. If her slump -- now only slight -- became more pronounced, it could make breathing difficult and exacerbate a preexisting lung condition. That, in turn, would make it more difficult for her to exercise -- an important part of osteoporosis management.  

And while she wasn't experiencing pain from the condition now, there was a good chance she might in the future, especially if she developed additional fractures.  

Under the circumstances, mom wasn't inclined toward squeamishness. When I asked if she minded giving herself shots, she responded in her usual upbeat way: "Not really. I'm very thick-skinned." But I had other concerns, too. Foremost was the fact that, in rat studies, teriparatide had caused an increase in the incidence of osteosarcoma, a rare bone cancer. Lilly had halted all human trials of the drug early once researchers began to notice the rats were developing tumors.  

FDA approval in November 2002 came with the proviso that Lilly identify the cancer findings boldly on packages of Forteo and in physician instructions. These "black box warnings" are the strongest the FDA can require of drug manufacturers. The agency also limited its approved use of Forteo to two years per patient.  

Lilly, meanwhile, agreed to restrict advertising of the drug to doctors and to recommend the drug's use only for patients at high risk for fractures. The company also agreed to continue studying possible links between osteosarcoma and Forteo.  

Because of the concern about cancer risk, the Washington-based consumer watchdog group Public Citizen placed Forteo on its "worst pills" list in 2003 and is urging consumers not to use it.  

This, despite the fact that Forteo has not been linked to osteosarcoma in humans or primates, according to the FDA. Neither has an elevated risk of osteosarcoma been observed in patients who have elevated levels of the naturally occurring human parathyroid hormone after which Forteo is modeled.  

"You can't ignore the rat data," said Larry D. Sasich, a research analyst with Public Citizen. He criticized the FDA for giving Lilly the green light to market Forteo before more was known about its risks to humans. He also faulted the agency for approving the drug for men without knowing if it actually decreased their fracture risk.  

The FDA shrugs off the criticism. "We're always faced with the dilemma that people may not appreciate the risks," said Eric Coleman of the FDA's Division of Metabolic and Endocrine Drug Products. "But if we didn't approve [Forteo], we would have all sorts of people clamoring to take the drug anyway. At the end of the day, you just don't know if the [rat information] is relevant. Short of not approving the drug, we did what a responsible agency would do."  

Well, maybe. But we weren't just talking abstractly about risk. This was my mother. I wanted a second opinion.  

A Needling Detail  

It was easy to track down experts who were knowledgeable about teriparatide and who had published research about the hormone in prestigious, peer-reviewed journals. But finding experts without direct financial ties to Lilly was more difficult.  

My first three calls, placed to some of the most prominent osteoporosis researchers in the country, all reached people linked to Lilly. Endocrinologist Ethel Siris, a professor of clinical medicine at Columbia University and chairwoman of the science and research committee at the National Osteoporosis Foundation, said that she had served as a consultant to Lilly.  

Chad Deal, head of the Center for Osteoporosis and Metabolic Bone Disease at the Cleveland Clinic, offered that some of his research had been sponsored by Lilly.  

Even my mother's own doctor, Robert Rosenberg, laboratory director for Arthritis and Rheumatism Associates, a large, multi-center practice in suburban Maryland, told me that he serves as one of Lilly's many clinical investigators and as a consultant. (My mother had given Rosenberg the go-ahead to discuss her condition with me for this story.)  

Lindsay, with whom I never spoke directly but who responded quickly to my questions about Forteo via e-mail, also had received Lilly funding for his research. He is a former National Osteoporosis Foundation president.  

Each of the three I spoke with answered my many questions about the drug and the relative risks and benefits for osteoporosis patients. Each echoed Coleman's claim about the lack of any data to suggest Forteo would cause cancer in humans. Each described the FDA as acting cautiously and responsibly in approving the drug. And each said he or she would feel comfortable if their own mothers took the drug.  

Still, I wanted confirmation from someone who had less riding on the drug's -- or its manufacturer's -- success. Finally I touched base with Sundeep Khosla, a professor at the Rochester , Minn. , campus of the Mayo Clinic College of Medicine, and Clifford Rosen, director of the St. Joseph Hospital Center for Osteoporosis Research and Education in Bangor , Maine . Neither has financial ties to any drug manufacturer. Khosla was referred by the National Osteoporosis Foundation, and Rosen, the immediate past president of the American Society for Bone Mineral Research, by the National Institute of Arthritis and Musculoskeletal and Skin Diseases at the National Institutes of Health (NIH).  

To my relief, both agreed with what the others told me.  

"Forteo's a great addition to our treatment of osteoporosis," said Khosla, who also sits on the Osteoporosis Foundation's governing board. "This is the first drug that has the potential to reverse bone loss. It improves the quality of the bone and the architecture of the bone."  

Rosen, who already has done extensive research on human parathyroid hormone, also was optimistic about the drug as a treatment for osteoporosis and described the FDA's approval of Forteo as "extremely judicious."  

The rats, he said, were given doses of teriparatide over the course of their entire lifetime. That, he said, represents a significant departure from the short-term treatments FDA and Lilly are recommending. Under the regimen FDA approved, he said, "it's highly, highly unlikely that we will see an incidence of osteosarcoma."  

Still, he has reservations. "Is Forteo better than bisphosphonates?" he asked. "We don't know. Currently, we don't have any head-to-head data."  

Also, he said he wasn't convinced that Lilly had arrived at the proper dosage. In research funded by NIH, he's now studying whether patients would see benefits in weekly doses, rather than in a daily injection. Compared with patients taking pills, those taking injectable drugs typically have more difficultly keeping up with their medication, he said. Reducing For- teo's dosage to once a week could help ensure patients stick with the program.  

"This once-weekly treatment makes sense, but it is just now being tested in the NIH-sponsored trial," he said. "It might offer the opportunity of getting a bone-building treatment at one-seventh the cost."  

Paying the Price  

And that brings me to another lingering concern.  

The average estimated cost of a year's supply of Forteo comes in at just under $7,600 -- more than 10 times the cost of other osteoporosis treatments. That puts the drug out of reach, for the moment, of some who might benefit from it.  

A year and a quarter after the drug's debut, Lilly estimates that about 45,000 people take it -- a small fraction of the number who take the less costly anti-resorptive medications. Fortunately for my parents, the drug is covered by their insurance under the Federal Employees Health Benefits plan.  

A month into her Forteo treatments, my mom says she's gotten good at giving herself shots. She says they don't hurt and she's not experiencing side effects. But who knows? She typically hangs tough in the face of illness.  

Mom's bottom line is she's glad to have another shot at staving off the disease when other treatments failed.  

The biggest problem she has with Forteo so far, she says, is that the box of needles takes up so much space on the kitchen counter. 

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