Hyperbaric oxygen therapy has been used in the past to help people with traumatic brain injury, stroke and other conditions involving wounds to the brain. Now, researchers at Shamir Medical Center in Tel Aviv are studying how it could treat Long Covid.
Long COVID is not a single disease, it is a syndrome or cluster of symptoms that can arise from exposure to SARS-CoV-2, a virus that affects an unusually large number of different tissue types. That's because the ACE2 receptor it uses to enter cells is common throughout the body, and inflammation from the immune response fighting that infection can damage surrounding tissue.
One of the most widely shared groups of symptoms is fatigue and what has come to be called “brain fog,” a difficulty focusing and an amorphous feeling of slowed mental functioning and capacity. Researchers have tied these COVID-related symptoms to tissue damage in specific sections of the brain and actual shrinkage in its size.
When Shai Efrati, medical director of the Sagol Center for Hyperbaric Medicine and Research in Tel Aviv, first looked at functional magnetic resonance images (fMRIs) of patients with what is now called long COVID, he saw “micro infarcts along the brain.” It reminded him of similar lesions in other conditions he had treated with hyperbaric oxygen therapy (HBOT). “Once we saw that, we said, this is the type of wound we can treat. It doesn't matter if the primary cause is mechanical injury like TBI [traumatic brain injury] or stroke … we know how to oxidize them.”Efrati came to HBOT almost by accident. The physician had seen how it had helped heal diabetic ulcers and improved the lives of other patients, but he was busy with his own research. Then the director of his Tel Aviv hospital threatened to shut down the small HBOT chamber unless Efrati took on administrative responsibility for it. He reluctantly agreed, a decision that shifted the entire focus of his research.
“The main difference between wounds in the leg and wounds in the brain is that one is something we can see, it's tangible, and the wound in the brain is hidden,” says Efrati. With fMRIs, he can measure how a limited supply of oxygen in blood is shuttled around to fuel activity in various parts of the brain. Years of research have mapped how specific areas of the brain control activity ranging from thinking to moving. An fMRI captures the brain area as it’s activated by supplies of oxygen; lack of activity after the same stimuli suggests damage has occurred in that tissue. Suddenly, what was hidden became visible to researchers using fMRI. It helped to make a diagnosis and measure response to treatment.
HBOT is not a single thing but rather a tool, a process or approach with variations depending on the condition being treated. It aims to increase the amount of oxygen that gets to damaged tissue and speed up healing. Regular air is about 21 percent oxygen. But inside the HBOT chamber the atmospheric pressure can be increased to up to three times normal pressure at sea level and the patient breathes pure oxygen through a mask; blood becomes saturated with much higher levels of oxygen. This can defuse through the damaged capillaries of a wound and promote healing.
The trial
Efrati’s clinical trials started in December 2020, barely a year after SARS-CoV-2 had first appeared in Israel. Patients who’d experienced cognitive issues after having COVID received 40 sessions in the chamber over a period of 60 days. In each session, they spent 90 minutes breathing through a mask at two atmospheres of pressure. While inside, they performed mental exercises to train the brain. The only difference between the two groups of patients was that one breathed pure oxygen while the other group breathed normal air. No one knew who was receiving which level of oxygen.
The results were striking. Before and after fMRIs showed significant repair of damaged tissue in the brain and functional cognition tests improved substantially among those who received pure oxygen. Importantly, 80 percent of patients said they felt back to “normal,” but Efrati says they didn't include patient evaluation in the paper because there was no baseline data to show how they functioned before COVID. After the study was completed, the placebo group was offered a new round of treatments using 100 percent oxygen, and the team saw similar results.
Scans show improved blood flow in a patient suffering from Long Covid.
Sagol Center for Hyperbaric Medicine
Efrati's use of HBOT is part of an emerging geroscience approach to diseases associated with aging. These researchers see systems dysfunctions that are common to several diseases, such as inflammation, which has been shown to play a role in micro infarcts, heart disease and Alzheimer’s disease. Preliminary research suggests that HBOT can retard some underlying mechanisms of aging, which might address several medical conditions. However, the drug approval process is set up to regulate individual disease, not conditions as broad as aging, and so they concentrate on treating the low hanging fruit: disorders where effective treatments currently are limited and success might be demonstrated.
The key to HBOT's effectiveness is something called the hyperoxic-hypoxic paradox where a body does not react to an increase in available oxygen, only to a decrease, regardless of the starting point. That danger signal has a powerful effect on gene expression, resulting in changes in metabolism, and the proliferation of stem cells. That occurs with each cycle of 20 minutes of pure oxygen followed by 5 minutes of regular air circulating through the masks, while the chamber remains pressurized. The high levels of oxygen in the blood provide the fuel necessary for tissue regeneration.
The hyperbaric chamber that Efrati has built can hold a dozen patients and attending medical staff. Think of it as a pressurized airplane cabin, only with much more space than even in first class. In the U.S., people think of HBOT as “a sack of air or some tube that you can buy on Amazon” or find at a health spa. “That is total bullshit,” Efrati says. “It has to be a medical class center where a physician can lose their license if they are not operating it properly.”
Shai Efrati
Alexander Charney, a research psychiatrist at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York City, calls Efrati’s study thoughtful and well designed. But it demands a lot from patients with its intense number of sessions. Those types of regimens have proven difficult to roll out to large numbers of patients. Still, the results are intriguing enough to merit additional trials.
John J. Miller, a physician and editor in chief of Psychiatric Times, has seen “many physicians that use hyperbaric oxygen for various brain disorders such as TBI.” He is intrigued by Efrati's work and believes the approach “has great potential to help patients with long COVID whose symptoms are related to brain tissue changes.”
Efrati believes so much in the power of the hyperoxic-hypoxic paradox to heal a variety of tissue injuries that he is leading the medical advisory board at Aviv Clinic, an international network of clinics that are delivering HBOT treatments based on research conducted in Israel. His goal is to silence doubters by quickly opening about 50 such clinics worldwide, based on the model of standalone dialysis clinics in the United States. Sagol Center is treating 300 patients per day, and clinics have opened in Florida and Dubai. There are plans to open another in Manhattan.
A bioengineer at the University of California, Riverside, may have found a way to prevent counterfeit medications: pill coatings inspired by the sprinkles on baked goods and candies.
The idea was borne out of pandemic boredom. Confined to his home, Grover was struck by the patterns of nonpareils he saw on candies, and found himself counting the number of little balls on each one. “It’s random, how they’re applied,” he says. “I wondered if it ever repeats itself or if each of these candies is unique in the entire world.” He suspected the latter, and some quick math proved his hypothesis: Given dozens of nonpareils per candy in a handful of different colors, it’s highly unlikely that the sprinklings on any two candies would be identical.
He quickly realized his finding could have practical applications: pills or capsules could be coated with similar “sprinkles,” with the manufacturer photographing each pill or capsule before selling its products. Consumers looking to weed out fakes could potentially take a photo with their cell phones and go online to compare images of their own pills to the manufacturer’s database, with the help of an algorithm that would determine their authenticity. Or, a computer could generate another type of unique identifier, such as a text-based code, tracking to the color and location of the sprinkles. This would allow for a speedier validation than a photo-based comparison, Grover says. “It could be done very quickly, in a fraction of a second.”
Researchers and manufacturers have already developed some anti-counterfeit tools, including built-in identifiers like edible papers with scannable QR codes. But such methods, while functional, can be costly to implement, Grover says.
It wouldn’t be paranoid to take such precautions. Counterfeits are a growing problem, according to Young Kim, a biomedical engineer at Purdue University who was not involved in the CandyCodes study. “There are approximately 40,000 online pharmacies that one can access via the Internet,” he says. “Only three to four percent of them are operated legally.” Purchases from online pharmacies rose dramatically during the pandemic, and Kim expects a boom in counterfeit medical products alongside it.
The FDA warns that U.S. consumers can be exposed to counterfeits through online purchases, in particular. The problem is magnified in low- to middle-income nations, where one in 10 medical products are counterfeit, according to a World Health Organization estimate. Cost doesn’t seem to be a factor, either; antimalarials and antibiotics are most often reported as counterfeits or fakes, and generic medications are swapped as often as brand-name drugs, according to the same WHO report.
Counterfeits weren’t tracked globally until 2013; since then, there have been 1,500 reports to the WHO, with actual incidences of counterfeiting likely much higher. Fake medicines have been estimated to result in costs of $200 billion each year, and are blamed for more than 72,000 pneumonia- and 116,000 malaria-related deaths.
Researchers and manufacturers have already developed some anti-counterfeit tools, including built-in identifiers like edible papers with scannable QR codes or barcodes that are stamped onto or otherwise incorporated into pills and other medical products. But such methods, while functional, can be costly to implement, Grover says.
CandyCodes could provide unique identifiers for at least 41 million pills for every person on the planet.
William Grover
“Putting universal codes on each pill and each dosage is attractive,” he says. “The challenge is, how can we do it in a way that requires as little modification to the existing manufacturing process as possible? That's where I hope CandyCodes have an edge. It's not zero modification, but I hope it is as minor a modification of the manufacturing process as possible.”
Kim calls the concept “a clever idea to introduce entropy for high-level security” even if it may not be as close to market as other emerging technologies, including some edible watermarks he’s helped develop. He points out that CandyCodes still needs to be tested for reproducibility and readability.
The possibilities are already intriguing, though. Grover’s recent research, published in Scientific Reports, predicts that unique codes could be used for at least 41 million pills for every person on the planet.
Sadly, CandyCodes’ multicolored bits probably won’t taste like candy. They must be made of non-caloric ingredients to meet the international regulatory standards that govern food dyes and colorants. But Grover hopes CandyCodes represent a simple, accessible solution to a heart-wrenching issue. “This feels like trying to track down and go after bad guys,” he says. “Someone who would pass off a medicine intended for a child or a sick person and pass it off as something effective, I can't imagine anything much more evil than that. It's fun and, and a little fulfilling to try to develop technologies that chip away at that.”