An Astounding Treatment at an Astounding Price: Who Gets to Benefit?
Kelly Mantoan was nursing her newborn son, Teddy, in the NICU in a Philadelphia hospital when her doctor came in and silently laid a hand on her shoulder. Immediately, Kelly knew what the gesture meant and started to sob: Teddy, like his one-year-old brother, Fulton, had just tested positive for a neuromuscular condition called spinal muscular atrophy (SMA).
The boys were 8 and 10 when Kelly heard about an experimental new treatment, still being tested in clinical trials, called Spinraza.
"We knew that [SMA] was a genetic disorder, and we knew that we had a 1 in 4 chance of Teddy having SMA," Mantoan recalls. But the idea of having two children with the same severe disability seemed too unfair for Kelly and her husband, Tony, to imagine. "We had lots of well-meaning friends tell us, well, God won't do this to you twice," she says. Except that He, or a cruel trick of nature, had.
In part, the boys' diagnoses were so devastating because there was little that could be done at the time, back in 2009 and 2010, when the boys were diagnosed. Affecting an estimated 1 in 11,000 babies, SMA is a degenerative disease in which the body is deficient in survival motor neuron (SMN) protein, thanks to a genetic mutation or absence of the body's SNM1 gene. So muscles that control voluntary movement – such as walking, breathing, and swallowing – weaken and eventually cease to function altogether.
Babies diagnosed with SMA Type 1 rarely live past toddlerhood, while people diagnosed with SMA Types 2, 3, and 4 can live into adulthood, usually with assistance like ventilators and feeding tubes. Shortly after birth, both Teddy Mantoan and his brother, Fulton, were diagnosed with SMA Type 2.
The boys were 8 and 10 when Kelly heard about an experimental new treatment, still being tested in clinical trials, called Spinraza. Up until then, physical therapy was the only sanctioned treatment for SMA, and Kelly enrolled both her boys in weekly sessions to preserve some of their muscle strength as the disease marched forward. But Spinraza – a grueling regimen of lumbar punctures and injections designed to stimulate a backup survival motor neuron gene to produce more SMN protein – offered new hope.
In clinical trials, after just a few doses of Spinraza, babies with SMA Type 1 began meeting normal developmental milestones – holding up their heads, rolling over, and sitting up. In other trials, Spinraza treatment delayed the need for permanent ventilation, while patients on the placebo arm continued to lose function, and several died. Spinraza was such a success, and so well tolerated among patients, that clinical trials ended early and the drug was fast-tracked for FDA approval in 2016. In January 2017, when Kelly got the call that Fulton and Teddy had been approved by the hospital to start Spinraza infusions, Kelly dropped to her knees in the middle of the kitchen and screamed.
Spinraza, manufactured by Biogen, has been hailed as revolutionary, but it's also not without drawbacks: Priced per injection, just one dose of Spinraza costs $125,000, making it one of the most expensive drugs on the global market. What's worse, treatment requires a "loading dose" of four injections over a four-week period, and then periodic injections every four months, indefinitely. For the first year of treatment, Spinraza treatment costs $750,000 – and then $375,000 for every year thereafter.
Last week, a competitive treatment for SMA Type 1 manufactured by Novartis burst onto the market. The new treatment, called Zolgensma, is a one-time gene therapy intended to be given to infants and is currently priced at $2.125 million, or $425,000 annually for five years, making it the most expensive drug in the world. Like Spinraza, Zolgensma is currently raising challenging questions about how insurers and government payers like Medicaid will be able to afford these treatments without bankrupting an already-strained health care system.
To Biogen's credit, the company provides financial aid for Spinraza patients with private insurance who pay co-pays for treatment, as well as for those who have been denied by Medicaid and Medicare. But getting insurance companies to agree to pay for Spinraza can often be an ordeal in itself. Although Fulton and Teddy Mantoan were approved for treatment over two years ago, a lengthy insurance battle delayed treatment for another eight months – time that, for some SMA patients, can mean a significant loss of muscular function.
Kelly didn't notice anything in either boy – positive or negative – for the first few months of Spinraza injections. But one day in November 2017, as Teddy was lowered off his school bus in his wheelchair, he turned to say goodbye to his friends and "dab," – a dance move where one's arms are extended briefly across the chest and in the air. Normally, Teddy would dab by throwing his arms up in the air with momentum, striking a pose quickly before they fell down limp at his sides. But that day, Teddy held his arms rigid in the air. His classmates, along with Kelly, were stunned. "Teddy, look at your arms!" Kelly remembers shrieking. "You're holding them up – you're dabbing!"
Teddy and Fulton Mantoan, who both suffer from spinal muscular atrophy, have seen life-changing results from Spinraza.
(Courtesy of Kelly Mantoan)
Not long after Teddy's dab, the Mantoans started seeing changes in Fulton as well. "With Fulton, we realized suddenly that he was no longer choking on his food during meals," Kelly said. "Almost every meal we'd have to stop and have him take a sip of water and make him slow down and take small bites so he wouldn't choke. But then we realized we hadn't had to do that in a long time. The nurses at school were like, 'it's not an issue anymore.'"
For the Mantoans, this was an enormous relief: Less choking meant less chance of aspiration pneumonia, a leading cause of death for people with SMA Types 1 and 2.
While Spinraza has been life-changing for the Mantoans, it remains painfully out of reach for many others. Thanks to Spinraza's enormous price tag, the threshold for who gets to use it is incredibly high: Adult and pediatric patients, particularly those with state-sponsored insurance, have reported multiple insurance denials, lengthy appeals processes, and endless bureaucracy from insurance and hospitals alike that stand in the way of treatment.
Kate Saldana, a 21-year-old woman with Type 2 SMA, is one of the many adult patients who have been lobbying for the drug. Saldana, who uses a ventilator 20 hours each day, says that Medicaid denied her Spinraza treatments because they mistakenly believed that she used a ventilator full-time. Saldana is currently in the process of appealing their decision, but knows she is fighting an uphill battle.
Kate Saldana, who suffers from Type 2 SMA, has been fighting unsuccessfully for Medicaid to cover Spinraza.
(Courtesy of Saldana)
"Originally, the treatments were studied and created for infants and children," Saldana said in an e-mail. "There is a plethora of data to support the effectiveness of Spinraza in those groups, but in adults it has not been studied as much. That makes it more difficult for insurance to approve it, because they are not sure if it will be as beneficial."
Saldana has been pursuing treatment unsuccessfully since last August – but others, like Kimberly Hill, a 32-year-old with SMA Type 2, have been waiting even longer. Hill, who lives in Oklahoma, has been fighting for treatment since Spinraza went on the U.S. market in December 2016. Because her mobility is limited to the use of her left thumb, Hill is eager to try anything that will enable her to keep working and finish a Master's degree in Fire and Emergency Management.
"Obviously, my family and I were elated with the approval of Spinraza," Hill said in an e-mail. "We thought I would finally have the chance to get a little stronger and healthier." But with Medicare and Medicaid, coverage and eligibility varies wildly by state. Earlier this year, Medicaid approved Spinraza for adult patients only if a clawback clause was attached to the approval, meaning that under certain conditions the Medicaid funds would need to be paid back. Because of the clawback clause, hospitals have been reluctant to take on Spinraza treatments, effectively barring adult Medicaid patients from accessing the drug altogether.
Hill's hospital is currently in negotiations with Medicaid to move forward with Spinraza treatment, but in the meantime, Hill is in limbo. "We keep being told there is nothing we can do, and we are devastated," Hill said.
"I felt extremely sad and honestly a bit forgotten, like adults [with SMA] don't matter."
Between Spinraza and its new competitor, Zolgensma, some are speculating that insurers will start to favor Zolgensma coverage instead, since the treatment is shorter and ultimately cheaper than Spinraza in the long term. But for some adults with SMA who can't access Spinraza and who don't qualify for Zolgensma treatment, the issue of what insurers will cover is moot.
"I was so excited when I heard that Zolgensma was approved by the FDA," said Annie Wilson, an adult SMA patient from Alameda, Calif. who has been fighting for Spinraza since 2017. "When I became aware that it was only being offered to children, I felt extremely sad and honestly a bit forgotten, like adults [with SMA] don't matter."
According to information from a Biogen representative, more than 7500 people worldwide have been treated with Spinraza to date, one third of whom are adults.
While Spinraza has been revolutionary for thousands of patients, it's unclear how many more lives state agencies and insurance companies will allow it to save.
Time to visit your TikTok doc? The good and bad of doctors on social media
Rakhi Patel has carved a hobby out of reviewing pizza — her favorite food — on Instagram. In a nod to her preferred topping, she calls herself thepepperoniqueen. Photos and videos show her savoring slices from scores of pizzerias. In some of them, she’s wearing scrubs — her attire as an inpatient neurology physician associate at Tufts Medical Center in Boston.
“Depending on how you dress your pizza, it can be more nutritious,” said Patel, who suggests a thin crust, sugarless tomato sauce and vegetables galore as healthier alternatives. “There are no boundaries for a health care professional to enjoy pizza.”
Beyond that, “pizza fuels my mental health and makes me happy, especially when loaded with pepperoni,” she said. “If I’m going to be a pizza connoisseur, then I also need to take care of my physical health by ensuring that I get at least three days of exercise per week and eat nutritiously when I’m not eating pizza.”
She’s among an increasing number of health care professionals, including doctors and nurses, who maintain an active persona on social media, according to bioethics researchers. They share their hobbies and interests with people inside and outside the world of medicine, helping patients and the public become acquainted with the humans behind the scrubs or white coats. Other health care experts limit their posts to medical topics, while some opt for a combination of personal and professional commentaries. Depending on the posts, ethical issues may come into play.
“Health care professionals are quite prevalent on social media,” said Mercer Gary, a postdoctoral researcher at The Hastings Center, an independent bioethics research institute in Garrison, New York. “They’ve been posting on #medTwitter for many years, mainly to communicate with one another, but, of course, anyone can see the threads. Most recently, doctors and nurses have become a presence on TikTok.”
On social media, many health care providers perceive themselves to be “humanizing” their profession by coming across as more approachable — “reminding patients that providers are people and workers, as well as repositories of medical expertise,” Gary said. As a result, she noted that patients who are often intimidated by clinicians may feel comfortable enough to overcome barriers to scheduling health care appointments. The use of TikTok in particular may help doctors and nurses connect with younger followers.
When health care providers post on social media, they must bear in mind that they have legal and ethical duties to their patients, profession and society, said Elizabeth Levy, founder and director of Physicians for Justice.
While enduring three years of pandemic conditions, many health care professionals have struggled with burnout, exhaustion and moral distress. “Much health care provider content on social media seeks to expose the difficulties of the work,” Gary added. “TikTok and Instagram reels have shown health care providers crying after losing a patient or exhausted after a night shift in the emergency department.”
A study conducted in Beijing, China and published last year found that TikTok is the world’s most rapidly growing video application, amassing 1.6 billion users in 2021. “More and more patients are searching for information on genitourinary cancers via TikTok,” the study’s authors wrote in Frontiers in Oncology, referring to cancers of the urinary tracts and male reproductive organs. Among the 61 sample videos examined by the researchers, health care practitioners contributed the content in 29, or 47 percent, of them. Yet, 22 posts, 36 percent, were misinformative, mostly due to outdated information.
More than half of the videos offered good content on disease symptoms and examinations. The authors concluded that “most videos on genitourinary cancers on TikTok are of poor to medium quality and reliability. However, videos posted by media agencies enjoyed great public attention and interaction. Medical practitioners could improve the video quality by cooperating with media agencies and avoiding unexplained terminologies.”
When health care providers post on social media, they must bear in mind that they have legal and ethical duties to their patients, profession and society, said Elizabeth Levy, founder and director of Physicians for Justice in Irvine, Calif., a nonprofit network of volunteer physicians partnering with public interest lawyers to address the social determinants of health.
“Providers are also responsible for understanding the mechanics of their posts,” such as who can see these messages and how long they stay up, Levy said. As a starting point for figuring what’s acceptable, providers could look at social media guidelines put out by their professional associations. Even beyond that, though, they must exercise prudent judgment. “As social media continues to evolve, providers will also need to stay updated with the changing risks and benefits of participation.”
Patients often research their providers online, so finding them on social media can help inform about values and approaches to care, said M. Sara Rosenthal, a professor and founding director of the program for bioethics and chair of the hospital ethics committee at the University of Kentucky College of Medicine.
Health care providers’ posts on social media also could promote patient education. They can advance informed consent and help patients navigate the risks and benefits of various treatments or preventive options. However, providers could violate ethical principles if they espouse “harmful, risky or questionable therapies or medical advice that is contrary to clinical practice guidelines or accepted standards of care,” Rosenthal said.
Inappropriate self-disclosure also can affect a provider’s reputation, said Kelly Michelson, a professor of pediatrics and director of the Center for Bioethics and Medical Humanities at Northwestern University’s Feinberg School of Medicine. A clinician’s obligations to professionalism extend beyond those moments when they are directly taking care of their patients, she said. “Many experts recommend against clinicians ‘friending’ patients or the families on social media because it blurs the patient-clinician boundary.”
Meanwhile, clinicians need to adhere closely to confidentiality. In sharing a patient’s case online for educational purposes, safeguarding identity becomes paramount. Removing names and changing minor details is insufficient, Michelson said.
“The patient-clinician relationship is sacred, and it can only be effective if patients have 100 percent confidence that all that happens with their clinician is kept in the strictest of confidence,” she said, adding that health care providers also should avoid obtaining information about their patients from social media because it can lead to bias and risk jeopardizing objectivity.
Academic clinicians can use social media as a recruitment tool to expand the pool of research participants for their studies, Michelson said. Because the majority of clinical research is conducted at academic medical centers, large segments of the population are excluded. “This affects the quality of the data and knowledge we gain from research,” she said.
Don S. Dizon, a professor of medicine and surgery at the Warren Alpert Medical School of Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island, uses LinkedIn and Doximity, as well as Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, and most recently, YouTube and Post. He’s on Twitter nearly every day, where he interacts with the oncology community and his medical colleagues.
Also, he said, “I really like Instagram. It’s where you will see a hybrid of who I am professionally and personally. I’ve become comfortable sharing both up to a limit, but where else can I combine my appreciation of clothes with my professional life?” On that site, he’s seen sporting shirts with polka dots or stripes and an occasional bow-tie. He also posts photos of his cats.
Don S. Dizon, a professor of medicine and surgery at Brown, started using TikTok several years ago, telling medical stories in short-form videos.
Don S. Dizon
Dizon started using TikTok several years ago, telling medical stories in short-form videos. He may talk about an inspirational patient, his views on end-of-life care and death, or memories of people who have passed. But he is careful not to divulge any details that would identify anyone.
Recently, some people have become his patients after viewing his content on social media or on the Internet in general, which he clearly states isn’t a forum for medical advice. “In both situations, they are so much more relaxed when we meet, because it’s as if they have a sense of who I am as a person,” Dizon said. “I think that has helped so much in talking through a cancer diagnosis and a treatment plan, and yes, even discussions about prognosis.”
He also posts about equity and diversity. “I have found myself more likely to repost or react to issues that are inherently political, including racism, homophobia, transphobia and lack-of-access issues, because medicine is not isolated from society, and I truly believe that medicine is a social justice issue,” said Dizon, who is vice chair of diversity, equity, inclusion and professional integrity at the SWOG Cancer Research Network.
Through it all, Dizon likes “to break through the notion of doctor as infallible and all-knowing, the doctor as deity,” he said. “Humanizing what I do, especially in oncology, is something that challenges me on social media, and I appreciate the opportunities to do it on TikTok.”
Could this habit related to eating slow down rates of aging?
Last Thursday, scientists at Columbia University published a new study finding that cutting down on calories could lead to longer, healthier lives. In the phase 2 trial, 220 healthy people without obesity dropped their calories significantly and, at least according to one test, their rate of biological aging slowed by 2 to 3 percent in over a couple of years. Small though that may seem, the researchers estimate that it would translate into a decline of about 10 percent in the risk of death as people get older. That's basically the same as quitting smoking.
Previous research has shown that restricting calories results in longer lives for mice, worms and flies. This research is unique because it applies those findings to people. It was published in Nature Aging.
But what did the researchers actually show? Why did two other tests indicate that the biological age of the research participants didn't budge? Does the new paper point to anything people should be doing for more years of healthy living? Spoiler alert: Maybe, but don't try anything before talking with a medical expert about it. I had the chance to chat with someone with inside knowledge of the research -- Dr. Evan Hadley, director of the National Institute of Aging's Division of Geriatrics and Clinical Gerontology, which funded the study. Dr. Hadley describes how the research participants went about reducing their calories, as well as the risks and benefits involved. He also explains the "aging clock" used to measure the benefits.
Evan Hadley, Director of the Division of Geriatrics and Clinical Gerontology at the National Institute of Aging
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