Shingles and My 10-Year-Old Bottle of Vicodin

By Cynthia Toussaint

A few years ago, a friend who’d been through a rowdy case of shingles tried to spook me.

“You of all people, Cynthia, have to get the shingles vaccine. You couldn’t go through this level of pain with all you’ve got going on,” she said.

Yeah, yeah, I thought, normies who don’t live with the flame-broiler called Complex Regional Pain Syndrome can’t hack the small stuff.

While Laura’s warning was well-intentioned, I decided to skip the shot because I’d heard it was a real ass kicker. That, and I’m already an Olympic-level pro at neuropathic pain. I’d be fine without getting the shingles vaccine.      

I bet on the wrong horse.    

In early August, a mysterious pain on the side of my left leg woke me. I’d never had aching pain that hurt so much, and rousted my partner John in alarm. Muscling through my day, the ache turned lava hot while I moaned and yelped. By bedtime, I was writhing and screaming. No position offered a smidge of relief and I ended up pretzelled against the foot board after only a couple hours of sleep.   

I couldn’t make heads or tails of this new pain. It burned something fierce like CRPS, but was unfamiliar. Terrified, I pointed out to John the places on my thigh where piercing pain, like striking arrows, were erupting. Worse, there was a “hatchet” in my groin.

42 years into CRPS, could this be a different kind of pain rearing its ugly head? The new version came complete with a high fever and wipe-out fatigue.

No amount of my old standby’s – rest, heat, distraction, kitty cuddling – offered relief. In fact, the pain kept amping higher, rendering me useless.

Soon, a bright-red, ghoulish rash appeared and began to spread by the hour. It felt like I was starring in my own horror film, with no pause button on the remote.

The next day, it hit me. This is goddamn shingles and I scooted off to an immediate care clinic.

I was disappointed to get a young male doctor and, true to form, he dismissed my symptoms by announcing that I’d burned myself with a heating pad. His only advice was for me to take a picture of the rash for reasons unknown. 

That night, while the rash continued to march on, the redness turned to bubbling blisters, and the next day I found myself back at immediate care.   

This time at the clinic I hit the jackpot, as a skilled and caring female doctor took about three seconds to diagnose shingles. Livid over the previous day’s dismissal, as treatment time was now of the essence, she instructed me to immediately pick up anti-viral medication and start them as soon as I got home.

Before leaving the room, she gave me a major fright. She looked into my eyes and told me that my shingles might become chronic, especially with my long CRPS history. At that moment, I had no doubt I was in for a world of unchartered hurt.                

For the next two months, except for doctor appointments, I lived between my bed and the couch, surviving one minute at a time. The blisters spread from the top of my thigh down to my knee, and up onto my left buttocks. Mixed with exquisite pain were patches of numbness, and my dermatologist gently warned that this might indicate nerve death.        

My allodynia was so severe I couldn’t bear anything touching the rash, and the never-ending pain kept me awake nights. I despised hearing from doctors, again and again, that I had the worst case of shingles they’d ever seen. Their biggest concern was that the rash would spread to my right side, in which case they suspected it would travel to my eyes and I’d likely lose my sight.   

Vicodin to the Rescue

The pain got so bad, John pleaded with me to take a Vicodin from a 10-year-old bottle he’d asked me to keep, just in case. In the past, this was unthinkable as my primary physician warned me that, due to being on a benzodiazepine, combining both medications might suppress my breathing. Despite that, I didn’t hesitate and got my first taste of blessed relief.

Soon my frantic pain doctor directed me to up my dose to four 5mg Vicodin tablets a day. Scared due to being opioid-naïve, I went on three instead. I could survive the pain then, but had zero quality of life. During this miserable time, I gulped laxatives to keep the pipes flowing, and for 10 days hobbled no further than our condo balcony. I was slowly cancelling my life and couldn’t even tolerate a visitor.

I ruminated over worst case scenarios. What if my pain stays chronic at a level ten? Also, my dermatologist told me I might be scarred forever.

Even if my pain improves, could I ever show my disfigured leg in public? Upon seeing the angry rash, my sister-in-law innocently chirped, “You can’t get in the pool with that, Cynthia. It’ll frighten the other swimmers.” I knew she was right and wanted to sob.

Mercifully, in the last month, the pain and rash (four tubes of scar gel and counting!) started to retreat, bit by bit. With great trepidation, I successfully weaned off the Vicodin, but sure enough, I’m left with post-herpetic neuralgia, the chronic pain I so dreaded.

While my numbness and allodynia are improving, the hatchet pain in my groin hasn’t dissipated. I’m over-the-moon happy to be swimming again with no problem, but for the first time this former ballerina is less than limber on her left side, which makes Pilates and Feldenkrais movement therapy formidable challenges.

While there are no guarantees, I remain optimistic for total healing because I take such good care of my body and mind. Three cheers for self-care!

Hands down, shingles at its apex was the worst pain experience of my life, and because of my CRPS, it was far, FAR worse than what a healthy person would have experienced. My doctors and I suspect the immunotherapy I took for cancer care over two years ago played a major role in getting shingles now, as it’s been the root of three prior serious pain complications.                   

While I can’t go back in time and take Laura’s sage advice about getting the almighty shingles vaccine, I can share my cautionary tale in hopes you’ll do so. With a caveat, I shuddered to learn the vaccine – which I’ll be getting in February – isn’t full proof. Inoculated folk can still get shingles, but those cases are rare and usually less severe, which is especially beneficial for those already wrangling with neuropathic pain.          

While I’m slowly moving my shingles nightmare (albeit with PTSD) into the rearview mirror, I’m haunted by a horrific question. Because my pharmacy refused to fill my pain doctor’s new prescription for Vicodin, what would have happened to me if not for my 10-year-old bottle?

In the grips of the worst pain and torture I’ve ever experienced and the absolute hopelessness of relief, in desperation what might I have done?

I don’t know, but am glad as hell I didn’t have to find out. My god, where is the mercy for people with pain?

Cynthia Toussaint is the founder and spokesperson at For Grace, a non-profit dedicated to bettering the lives of women in pain. She has lived with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) and multiple co-morbidities for over four decades, and has been battling cancer since 2020. Cynthia is the author of “Battle for Grace: A Memoir of Pain, Redemption and Impossible Love.” 

Is the Hype About a New Non-Opioid Analgesic Justified?

By Carol Levy

In a previous column, I asked why pharmaceutical companies haven’t been able to “build a better mousetrap” by developing new and effective non-opioid medications for pain 

Every doctor I've seen about my chronic facial pain has only offered me opioids. As is true for many of us, I hate the way they make me feel. They also rarely help, outside of making me so cloudy-headed that I become less aware of the pain and have trouble thinking clearly.

That is the exact opposite of what the drug is supposed to do. It's supposed to make me feel better, and therefore better able to work, play, and do regular activities — which is exactly what the cloudiness stops me from doing. That's not a workable trade-off.

When I protest, “There must be something other than an opioid,” the reply from doctors is always the same: “There is nothing else.”

Now there may be. The FDA is giving priority review to a new drug application for suzetrigine, an experimental non-opioid analgesic developed by Vertex Pharmaceuticals. The drug has previously been granted “Fast Track” and “Breakthrough Therapy” designations by the agency for the treatment of moderate-to-severe acute pain. Final approval could come in January, which would make suzetrigine the first new class of medication for pain in over two decades.

The upside to suzetrigine is that it’s not an opioid. That would address the lie that we are responsible for the opioid crisis, and should be held captive by doctors who fear being raided by the DEA and don’t prescribe opioids anymore.

The downside is that suzetrigine is being considered as a treatment for acute pain and perhaps chronic neuropathy. My pain is neuropathic in nature -- trigeminal neuralgia and anaesthesia dolorosa (phantom pain) --- so I was at first exhilarated, and then deflated to see that suzetrigine is only being studied as a treatment for diabetic peripheral neuropathy. I had hoped this would be something for all of us.

I Google searched for other non-opioid analgesics, hoping there might be some new ones in the process of testing or even FDA fast-tracked. I couldn't find any.

As I researched further, I began to feel dejected. All drugs have downsides. That is expected. But I had hoped the FDA’s priority review meant the research was very positive about suzetrigine. Instead, I found there are many questions as to whether the drug is any better than what is already out there.

So why is the FDA fast-tracking it? Are they so eager to approve non-opioids that anything that might work will be considered? Maybe. The breakthrough therapy and fast-track designations may be geared more towards appeasing the FDA’s critics than anything else.

The headlines sounded so promising. “New Painkiller Could Bring Relief to Millions” and “A New Class of Medicine for Pain Relief On The Horizon.”

When I found out about this drug my heart leaped. Now I am not so sure. I hope it's not just another false flag. 

Carol Jay Levy has lived with trigeminal neuralgia, a chronic facial pain disorder, for over 30 years. She is the author of “A Pained Life, A Chronic Pain Journey.”  Carol is the moderator of the Facebook support group “Women in Pain Awareness.” Her blog “The Pained Life” can be found here. 

A Compound Found in Cannabis Could Make Opioids Safer

By Pat Anson, PNN Editor

What gives the cannabis sativa plant it’s pain-relieving properties?

Most people will tell you it’s cannabidiol (CBD) and/or tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), the two most well-known chemical compounds found in cannabis.  

But researchers at University of Arizona Health Sciences say terpenes -- aromatic compounds that give cannabis its distinctive “skunky” smell – have analgesic effects as well. In fact, in a new study published in the journal PAIN, they report that cannabis terpenes are just as effective as morphine in reducing neuropathic pain in laboratory animals.

“A question that we’ve been very interested in is could terpenes be used to manage chronic pain?” lead researcher John Streicher, PhD, a Pharmacology Professor at UA’s College of Medicine in Tucson, said in a press release. “What we found is that terpenes are really good at relieving a specific type of chronic pain with side effects that are low and manageable.”

Terpenes are found in all plants and are the main component of essential oils. Terpenes give lavender, sage and eucalyptus oils their distinctive smells, which are used to promote relaxation or even reduce pain and inflammation. In nature, terpenes help plants attract pollinators such as bees or to protect themselves from predators.

Most plants have only two dominant terpenes, but cannabis has up to 150 terpenes. Streicher and his colleagues tested five of the cannabis terpenes by injecting them into mice with chemotherapy-induced neuropathic pain.

They found that each of the five terpenes reduced nerve pain significantly, at levels similar to or even better than morphine. And when combined with morphine, the analgesic effects were enhanced even further.

Perhaps the most striking discovery is that the mice showed no signs of euphoria or “liking” terpenes – a sign that they may not have abuse potential.

“We looked at other aspects of the terpenes, such as: Does this cause reward? Is this going to be addictive? Is it going to make you feel awful?” Streicher said. “What we found was yes, terpenes do relieve pain, and they also have a pretty good side effect profile.”

In addition to injections, researchers also administered terpenes to the mice orally and through inhalation from a vaporizer. The results were the same. The mice had significant pain relief with no side effects or signs of addiction.

More research is needed, but some cannabis companies are already incorporating terpenes into their products. Lemon Kush, for example, is a marijuana strain that contains limonene, a terpene that smells like lemon, while the hybrid Blue Dream has a terpene that’s also found in blueberries.

“A lot of people vape or smoke terpenes as part of cannabis extracts that are available commercially in states where cannabis use is legal,” Streicher said “We were surprised to find that the inhalation route didn’t have an impact in this study, because there are a lot of at least anecdotal reports saying that you can get the effects of terpenes whether taken orally or inhaled.”

The next step for Streicher and his research team is to study whether terpenes can block the abuse potential of opioids, while at the same time enhancing their analgesic effects.

“This brings up the idea that you could have a combination therapy, an opioid with a high level of terpene, that could actually make the pain relief better while blocking the addiction potential of opioids,” Streicher said.

Neurological Conditions Now Leading Cause of Chronic Illness

By Pat Anson, PNN Editor

The number of people living with neurological conditions such as migraine, diabetic neuropathy, epilepsy, stroke and dementia has risen significantly over the past 30 years, making it the leading cause of chronic illness worldwide, according to a new analysis published in The Lancet Neurology.

An international research team estimates that over 3.4 billion people – about 43% of the global population – had a neurological condition in 2021, replacing cardiovascular disease as the leading cause of poor health.

“The worldwide neurological burden is growing very fast and will put even more pressure on health systems in the coming decades,” said co-author Valery Feigin, MD, Director of the National Institute for Stroke and Applied Neuroscience at Auckland University in New Zealand.

“Yet many current strategies for reducing neurological conditions have low effectiveness or are not sufficiently deployed, as is the case with some of the fastest-growing but largely preventable conditions like diabetic neuropathy and neonatal disorders. For many other conditions, there is no cure, underscoring the importance of greater investment and research into novel interventions and potentially modifiable risk factors.”

A total of 37 disorders affecting the brain and nervous system were included in the study. Collectively, the nerve disorders are responsible for 443 million years of healthy life lost due to illness, disability or premature death, known as disability-adjusted life years (DALYs).

Tension-type headaches (about 2 billion cases) and migraines (about 1.1 billion) are the two most common neurological disorders, while diabetic neuropathy is the fastest-growing one. Painful stinging or burning sensations in the nerves of the hands and feet are often the first symptoms of diabetes.

“The number of people with diabetic neuropathy has more than tripled globally since 1990, rising to 206 million in 2021,” said co-senior author Liane Ong, PhD, from the Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation at University of Washington. “This is in line with the increase in the global prevalence of diabetes.”

Over 80% of neurological deaths and disability occur in low- and middle-income countries, with western and central sub-Saharan Africa having the highest DALY rates. In contrast, high-income countries in the Asian Pacific and Australasia regions had the lowest rates.

“Nervous system health loss disproportionately impacts many of the poorest countries partly due to the higher prevalence of conditions affecting neonates and children under 5, especially birth-related complications and infections,” said co-author Tarun Dua, MD, Unit Head of WHO’s Brain Health unit.

“Improved infant survival has led to an increase in long-term disability, while limited access to treatment and rehabilitation services is contributing to the much higher proportion of deaths in these countries.”

Medical providers specializing in neurological care are unevenly distributed around the world, with wealthy countries having about 70 times the number of specialists as low-income ones.

Researchers say prevention needs to be a top priority in addressing the growth of neurological conditions. Some disorders, such as stroke and chronic headache, are potentially preventable by lowering risk factors such as high blood pressure, smoking and alcohol use.

The study was funded by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.

Experimental Non-Opioid Drug Effective in Treating Acute Pain

By Pat Anson, PNN Editor

An experimental non-opioid analgesic was effective in treating post-operative pain in two Phase 3 clinical trials, setting the stage for a New Drug Application to the FDA by Vertex Pharmaceuticals later this year.

The drug – called VX-548 – was given orally to patients with moderate-to-severe pain in the first 48 hours after an abdominoplasty or bunionectomy, two minimally invasive surgeries. VX-548 was more effective in reducing pain than the placebo, but it was not more effective than a combination of the opioid hydrocodone and acetaminophen, more commonly known as Vicodin.

In a third Phase 3 study, VX-548 was effective for up to 14 days across a broad range of surgical and non-surgical acute pain conditions. Over 80% of patients in that study rated VX-548 as good, very good, or excellent in treating pain.

“We are very pleased with the results from the VX-548 pivotal program, which demonstrate a compelling and consistent combination of efficacy and safety across multiple acute pain conditions and settings. The VX-548 benefit-risk profile ideally positions it to potentially fill the gap between medicines with good tolerability but limited efficacy and opioid medicines with therapeutic efficacy but known risks, including addictive potential,” Reshma Kewalramani, MD, CEO and President of Vertex, said in a press release.

“With FDA Breakthrough and Fast Track Designations in hand, we are working with urgency to file the New Drug Application for VX-548 and bring this non-opioid medicine to the millions of patients who suffer from acute pain each year in the U.S.”

VX-548 was generally safe and well tolerated in all three Phase 3 studies. Most of the adverse events reported by patients were mild to moderate, such as nausea and constipation.

Unlike opioids, VX-548 blocks pain in the peripheral nervous system, rather than the brain. That means it won’t have euphoric effects or be addictive. If approved for use by the FDA, experts say it would give patients and providers a much-needed alternative to opioids.

“As a physician treating patients suffering from pain for many years, I know firsthand the critical need for new, efficacious and safe treatment options,” said Jessica Oswald, MD, a Vertex consultant and Associate Physician in Emergency Medicine and Pain Medicine at University of California San Diego.

“The Phase 3 safety and efficacy across the three studies are impressive and demonstrate VX-548’s potential to change the paradigm of pain management. I look forward to the potential of having a new class of acute pain medicine — the first in more than two decades — to use as an alternative to opioids to help the millions of people impacted by acute pain.”

The risk of a surgery patient misusing opioids or becoming addicted is actually quite low – less than one percent. One recent study even found that restricting the use of opioids during surgery leads to more post-operative pain.

Vertex hopes to have VX-548 approved for a wide variety of pain conditions, not just post-operative pain.  Last month, the company released positive results for the drug in reducing pain from diabetic peripheral neuropathy.

Vertex also recently won approval from the FDA for its CRISPR gene cell therapy for sickle cell disease, which potentially offers a cure for the painful blood disorder.

Experimental Fiber Implants Block Nerve Pain with Light

By Pat Anson, PNN Editor

Researchers at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology have developed experimental fiber implants that could potentially be used to deliver pulses of light from inside the body to inhibit nerve pain. Unlike other implants, the hydrogel fibers are flexible and stretch with the body during movement.     

“Current devices used to study nerve disorders are made of stiff materials that constrain movement, so that we can’t really study spinal cord injury and recovery if pain is involved,” said co-author Siyuan Rao, PhD, now an assistant professor of biomedical engineering at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. “Our fibers can adapt to natural motion and do their work while not limiting the motion of the subject. That can give us more precise information.”

In tests on laboratory mice with genetically modified nerves, researchers used the fiber implants to deliver blue light to the sciatic nerve, which activated the animals’ hind limb muscles.

When pulses of yellow light were used, the light inhibited neuropathic pain in the mice.

For now, MIT engineers see the fibers primarily as a research tool that can help them study the causes and potential treatments of peripheral nerve disorders in animals.

Credit: Sabrina Urbina Villafranca

Neuropathic pain occurs when peripheral nerves are damaged, resulting in tingling, numbness and stinging sensations in the hands and feet. About 20 million Americans suffer from peripheral neuropathy, which can be caused by diabetes, chemotherapy, lupus, HIV, Lyme disease, celiac disease and many other disorders.

“Now, people have a tool to study the diseases related to the peripheral nervous system, in very dynamic, natural, and unconstrained conditions,” said co-author Xinyue Liu, PhD, who is now an assistant professor at Michigan State University. 

The MIT team’s study, recently published in the journal Nature Methods, grew out of a desire to expand the use of optogenetics -- a technique in which nerves are genetically engineered to respond to light. Exposure to specific light waves can either activate or inhibit a nerve, giving scientists a new way to study how nerves work. 

Scientists have used optogenetics in animals to trace nerves involved in a range of brain disorders, including addiction, Parkinson’s disease, and mood and sleep disorders.

Until now, optogenetics has primarily been used in the brain, an organ that lacks pain receptors, which allows for the relatively painless implantation of rigid devices. The MIT team wondered if optogenetics could be expanded to nerves outside the brain to study peripheral nerve pain.  

Because peripheral nerves undergo constant pushing and pulling from adjoining muscles and tissues, they needed more flexible devices that would not constrain movement or cause tissue damage.  

The new optical fibers are made with hydrogel — a rubbery mix of polymers and water – that is soft and flexible. The fiber has two layers; a core and an outer shell that funnel light through the fiber without escaping or scattering. 

When implanted in mice, researchers say the animals were still able to run freely on an exercise wheel. After two months, the fiber was still resistant to fatigue and could transmit light efficiently to trigger muscle contractions. 

“We are focusing on the fiber as a new neuroscience technology,” Liu says. “We hope to help dissect mechanisms underlying pain in the peripheral nervous system. With time, our technology may help identify novel mechanistic therapies for chronic pain and other debilitating conditions such as nerve degeneration or injury.”

‘I’m Still in Pain’: A Patient’s Long Wait to See a Specialist

By Molly Castle Work, KFF Health News

Teresa Johnson can’t escape the pain. It’s as if she’s getting pierced by needles all over her body, all at once. At night, she sometimes jolts out of sleep thinking bedbugs are attacking her. But it’s just the unfailing pain — day in and day out.

Johnson, 58, said her ordeal started in September 2022, when she went for a CT scan of her abdomen after a bout of covid-19. Though Johnson warned the lab she was allergic to iodine, she believes the lab tech used it in an injection, triggering an allergic reaction. She spent the next three weeks in the hospital, feeling as if her body was on fire.

When she was discharged to her home at the base of the San Jacinto Mountains in Riverside County, Johnson said, her quality of life deteriorated and her frustration mounted as she waited for her Medi-Cal plan to get her assessed by a specialist. She could barely walk or stand, she could no longer cook for herself, and sometimes she couldn’t even lift her leg high enough to step into the tub.

“I would never wish this on anybody,” Johnson said while rocking back and forth on the couch to still the pain. “You don’t know if you should cry, or just say OK, I can make it through this. It messes with you mentally.”

Johnson said her primary care doctor told her he wasn’t sure what triggered the pain but suspects it was compounded by the lingering effects of covid.

Johnson, who is diabetic, developed neuropathy, a type of nerve damage, possibly after the allergic reaction caused her blood sugar levels to skyrocket, her doctor told her.

He referred Johnson, who receives care through California’s Medicaid program for low-income people, to an endocrinologist in March.

But Johnson said she was not offered timely appointments, and it took more than six months, four referrals, multiple complaints to her health plan, and a legal aid group’s help to finally snag a phone call with an endocrinologist in mid-September.

TERESA JOHNSON

Access to specialists — from gastroenterologists to cardiologists — has been a long-standing challenge for many Medi-Cal patients, especially those in rural areas or regions facing staff shortages. The Inland Empire, where Johnson lives, has the second-lowest supply of specialists in the state, according to the California Health Care Foundation.

The state Department of Managed Health Care, which regulates most Medi-Cal health plans, requires plans to get patients in to see specialists within 15 business days, unless a longer waiting time would not harm the patient’s health. But the timeline often looks very different in reality.

“It’s hard to get a specialist to contract for Medi-Cal patients. Period,” said Amanda Simmons, executive vice president of Integrated Health Partners of Southern California, a nonprofit organization that represents community health clinics. “Specialists don’t want to do it because reimbursement rates are so low.”

Johnson said she made her first call in March to the endocrinologist assigned by her Medi-Cal insurer, Inland Empire Health Plan, and that the office offered her an appointment several months out. Over the next four months, she received three more referrals, but she said she got a similar response each time she called. When Johnson objected to the lengthy wait times, requesting earlier appointments, she was told there was no availability and that her condition wasn’t urgent.

“They told me it wasn’t important,” Johnson said. “And I asked, ‘How would you know? You’ve never seen me.’”

Esther Iverson, director of provider communications for the plan, declined to speak about Johnson’s case but said the plan makes every effort to meet the 15-day requirement. It can be challenging to meet the standard, she said, due to a lack of available physicians — especially for certain specialties, such as endocrinology and pain management.

She pointed to the nationwide physician shortage, which is more pronounced in rural areas, including parts of San Bernardino and Riverside counties, where the plan operates. She also noted that many physicians decided to leave the field or retire early due to burnout from the covid pandemic.

At the same time, she said, the plan’s enrollment ballooned to 1.6 million as eligibility expanded in recent years. Statewide, more than 15 million Californians are enrolled in Medi-Cal.

“The highest priority for us is timely access to quality care,” Iverson said.

‘I’m So Burned Out’

During her quest, Johnson enlisted the help of Inland Counties Legal Services, which provides free legal representation to low-income residents. They called the plan multiple times to request earlier appointments but got mired in bureaucratic delays and waiting periods.

In one instance in August, after the insurer told Johnson it couldn’t meet the 15-day time frame, her legal representative, Mariane Gantino, filed an appeal, arguing that Johnson’s request was urgent. The insurer’s medical director responded within a few hours denying the claim, saying the plan concluded that her case was not urgent and that a delay would not cause a serious threat to her health.

“I’m so burned out after dealing with this for so long,” Johnson said in mid-September. “Why do they have the 15-day law if there aren’t going to be any consequences?”

A few days later, Johnson finally received the call she had been waiting for: an offer of a phone appointment with an endocrinologist, on Sept. 18. During the appointment, the doctor adjusted her diabetes and other medications but didn’t directly address her pain, she said.

“I’m in the same position,” Johnson said. “I’m still in pain. What’s next?”

Over the years, Johnson has worked a variety of jobs — from driving eighteen-wheelers cross-country to weaving hair — but her most consistent work was as a caregiver, including to her six children, 21 grandchildren, and three great-grandkids, with another great-grandchild on the way. Now, because of her extreme pain, the roles have been reversed. A daughter and granddaughter who live with her have become her full-time caregivers.

“I can’t do nothing. I can’t take care of my grandkids like I used to,” said Johnson, who sleeps most of the day and wakes up only when her pain medication wears off. “I was planning to take care of the new baby that’s coming. I probably can’t even hold her now.”

This article was produced by KFF Health News, which publishes California Healthline, an editorially independent service of the California Health Care Foundation. 

Genetic Variations Involved in a Third of CRPS Cases

By Pat Anson, PNN Editor

Chronic Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) is one of the worst and most baffling of pain conditions. It usually starts after an injury to an arm or leg, with the skin in the affected area becoming warm, red and painful to touch. Most cases are mild and people recover after a few months, but in rare cases the condition grows worse, resulting in intense nerve pain that can spread and last for years.

Why do some people develop CRPS, while others get better? A small new study in the UK suggests that a genetic variant may be responsible for about a third of CRPS cases.

Researchers at the University of Cambridge took blood samples from 84 patients enrolled in the CRPS-UK Registry to look for variations in certain genes known as single nucleotide polymorphisms, or SNPs for short. Their DNA was compared to a control group of patients with chronic pain from fibromyalgia and low back pain.

Their findings, recently published in the Journal of Medical Genetics, show that an SNP in 4 genes (ANO10, P2RX7, PRKAG1 and SLC12A9) was “more common than expected” in patients with CRPS for at least a year (CRPS-1) than it was in the fibromyalgia/back pain group.

In all, 25 of the 84 patients (30%) with CRPS-1 had the variations in at least 1 of the 4 genes. None of the variations was found in the control group.

Interestingly, men with CRPS were more likely to have the variations (57%) than women (24%), although the sample sizes are so small the discrepancy will need to be confirmed in a larger study. In real life, women are more likely to have CRPS than men.

“This raises the possibility of different mechanisms of disease in males and females in CRPS-1 and that therapeutic responses may also be influenced by sex,” wrote lead author C. Geoffrey Woods, a clinical geneticist at the Cambridge Institute for Medical Research.  “Our data support an underlying genetic predisposition to CRPS-1 in up to a third of cases, with this effect being most prominent in males.”

There may be a biological explanation for the findings, because the ANO10, P2RX7and SLC12A9 genes are found in immune cells of the peripheral nervous system, which becomes inflamed by CRPS.

All 4 genes are also expressed in macrophages — a type of white blood cell involved in the immune response of healthy people. This suggests that variations in those 4 genes may be what triggers CRPS, which is also known as Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy (RSD).

CRPS/RSD is difficult to treat and there is no known cure. Some patients have found relief through Scrambler therapy and ketamine infusions.

FDA Approves First Biosimilar for Multiple Sclerosis

By Pat Anson, PNN Editor

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration has approved Tyruko (natalizumab-sztn) as the first biosimilar for adults with relapsing forms of multiple sclerosis (MS), a move that could substantially reduce treatment costs for MS patients. Biosimilars are “highly similar” to brand-name biologic medicines, but about 30% cheaper.

"Approval of the first biosimilar product indicated to treat relapsing forms of multiple sclerosis furthers the FDA's longstanding commitment to support a competitive marketplace for biological products and ultimately empowers patients by helping to increase access to safe, effective and high-quality medications at potentially lower cost," said Sarah Yim, MD, director of the FDA’s Office of Therapeutic Biologics and Biosimilars.

Like Tysabri (natalizumab), the biologic it is modeled after, Tyruko is administered by infusion every four weeks to patients with MS, a chronic disease that attacks the body’s central nervous system, causing numbness, paralysis, loss of vision, fatigue and pain. Many MS patients experience periods of remission, followed by relapses.  

The listed cash price for a single vial of Tysabri is over $17,000, although the discounted price for insured patients is about $8,500 or $102,000 a year. Sandoz, a pharmaceutical company that specializes in biosimilars and generics, has not revealed its pricing plans for Tyruko or said when it will become available. Sandoz is a division of Novartis.

“Of the nearly one million people in the US living with multiple sclerosis, hundreds of thousands experience disease relapse. Tyruko has the potential to extend the reach of natalizumab treatment for these patients, increase healthcare savings and fuel innovation through competition in the market,” Keren Haruvi, President North America, Sandoz Inc., said in a news release.

Like Tysabri, Tyruko may also be used to treat adults with moderate to severe symptoms from Crohn's disease who have not responded well to other treatments. Crohn’s causes chronic inflammation in the digestive tract.

The FDA says patients using natalizumab products (including Tyruko and Tysabri) are at higher risk of developing progressive multifocal leukoencephalopathy (PML), a viral infection of the brain that can lead to death or severe disability. Because of that risk, prescribers must evaluate patients three and six months after their first infusion, every six months thereafter, and even after they discontinue treatment.

Growing Market for Biosimilars

Patients have long complained about the high price of MS drugs in the US, which cost two to three times more than the same drugs in Canada, Australia or the UK. One reason biologics are so expensive is that they derived from living organisms such as animal cells or bacteria, making them costly to develop.

Drug patents also last a long time – usually five years – before a “copycat” version can be introduced. Patent holders often take their competitors to court to further delay the introduction of generics or biosimilars, as was the case with AbbVie’s Humira, a biologic widely used to treat rheumatoid arthritis and other chronic inflammatory diseases. At least 9 new Humira biosimilars are finally entering the U.S. market this year.

Last week, CVS Health announced that it was launching a wholly owned subsidiary called Cordavis, which will work with drug manufacturers to commercialize biosimilars. The first biosimilar CVS plans to market in early 2024 is Hyrimoz (adalimumab-adaz), a biosimilar for Humira produced by Sandoz. CVS says the list price of the Hyrimoz will be over 80% lower than the current list price of Humira.

"Biosimilars are crucial to creating competition and reducing costs for specialty pharmaceuticals where drug prices are rising the fastest," said Prem Shah, PharmD, Executive Vice President and Chief Pharmacy Officer for CVS. "Through our direct involvement, we will expand the supply chain and ensure biosimilar availability in the market.”

As more patents expire, the biosimilars market in the U.S. is projected to grow from $6.7 billion in 2021 to more than $100 billion in 2029, according to one market forecast..

‘Take Care of Maya’: The High Cost of a Mother’s Love

By Cynthia Toussaint, PNN Columnist

Netflix’s top-notch documentary, Take Care of Maya, was excruciatingly painful for me to watch because it hit so close to home. I related on many levels: the disease, maltreatment from healthcare professionals, being labeled crazy, the family breakdown, and the pursuit of justice. But the dagger to my heart was the price paid for a mother’s love.

Like me, the protagonist, Maya Kowalski, has Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS), but the over-riding message of the film is about something far more insidious. It lays out the abusive extremes some health and social care systems take to make a buck at the cost of patients and their families. Sometimes that price can be unimaginable.

In Maya’s case, her parents were falsely accused of child abuse, specifically making their daughter ill for their own gain, a disorder known as Munchausen by Proxy. This misguided allegation led to Maya being kidnapped by hospital administrators, who then barred her from seeing her family, all while the 10-year-old’s physical and emotional pain became increasingly worse.

It was horrifying to watch Maya’s family unravel under the strain of this prolonged nightmare, in particular her bold and unflinching mother Beata’s relentless confrontations with the powers that be.

After multiple failed attempts to reverse matters in the courts, Beata, the focus of the abuse allegations and the target of the hospital’s ire (***spoiler alert***), became increasingly despondent to the point that she hanged herself to give her daughter the best chance of getting back home.

‘They’re Killing My Daughter’

I’m guessing that many who watched the documentary found its facts too fantastic to be true – and there was a time when I might have agreed with them. But I’ve lived too much of this story to question it now.

In my early 20’s, when it was clear that my still unnamed disease wasn’t going away, my mother became progressively distraught over watching my life slip down the rabbit hole. It’s fair to say my recovery came to be her over-riding obsession.

Mom wrote 200+ searing letters, sometimes demanding, at other times begging my HMO to diagnose and treat me. She spent large swaths of those years on the phone in desperate attempts to get me, as she coined them, “no-care” appointments, all in the hope that a compassionate physician or administrator would at last hear her pleas and change my course.

My poor mother became more and more unglued and unwell from the abuse, aimed first at me and then toward her, from this evil empire. She developed life-threatening heart problems and her legs, addled by aching varicose veins, went from bad to worse from constantly lifting me. Perhaps my most distressing memory of those dark days was when I’d hear her full-volume moans emanating from out-of-control sadness.  

One day after my HMO dropped the ball on an appointment we’d driven miles to attend, Mom snapped with rage. With super human strength, she hoisted my 50-pound wheelchair in the parking lot and smashed it into her car. As I cried in fear, she repeatedly bashed away.

“They don’t care about my daughter!” she screamed. “She’s dying! They’re killing my daughter!”

During this time, I was terrified for my mother’s life. Though it never crossed my mind she would take her own, I was hounded incessantly with the thought that she would succumb to a stroke or heart attack.

Maya’s mother made the ultimate sacrifice by taking her own life to save her daughter’s. Some might say that was tragically misguided, but I’m certain Beata’s intentions were true and real. My mother said to me on more occasions than I care to remember, “If cutting off my arm would make you well, I’d do it.” I never doubted her.

After fighting my HMO for nearly a decade with no tangible results, not even a diagnosis, my mom pulled up stakes, but in a different way than Beata. Mom moved to New York to pursue her long-delayed acting career. When I confronted her about feeling abandoned, she explained her reasoning. “Maybe if I go, you’ll get better by doing more for yourself,” she told me. It didn’t have to be logical.

In Beata and my mother’s desperation to somehow, someway fix impossibly tragic situations for their daughters, both made questionable choices out of love. It’s true, the path to hell is paved with good intentions, especially where chaos and heartbreak intersect.

Like Maya, I couldn’t just fold tent and walk away from the institution that did me wrong. Sure, I wanted justice for me, but also for my mom. I became a spokesperson and a whistle-blower for HMO reform in California, hell bent on exposing all of their atrocities. I did get a number of licks in, multiple high-profile media stories that helped change public opinion, which helped pave the way to sweeping legislative reform.

In retrospect, something I think of quite a bit these days, the cost was too high. I’m harassed by this entity to this day and they were successful in killing much of my most important work. In short, the fallout from my justice-seeking made me sicker and sadder over the decades, taking away more than it gave.

When I see Maya seeking justice in her mother’s name, I have great respect for her, but also concern. This young woman is now in remission and, going forward, my prayer is that she puts her health front and center. After poignantly telling her story on a world stage and prevailing in the courts (which I believe will mercifully happen soon), I hope Maya will step away with the knowledge that she’s done enough, and never looks back. It’s time to save herself.     

It’s also time to grieve, maybe more than anything, the loss of a mother’s love.    

Cynthia Toussaint is the founder and spokesperson at For Grace, a non-profit dedicated to bettering the lives of women in pain. She has lived with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) and 19 co-morbidities for four decades, and has been battling cancer since 2020. Cynthia is the author of “Battle for Grace: A Memoir of Pain, Redemption and Impossible Love.”

Painfully Stepping Over the Line

By Cynthia Toussaint, PNN Columnist

For decades, people have described me as indefatigable, super-human strong and the ultimate survivor. Or the one filled with surprises and miracles. Well-intended compliments that have moved me and, during dark times, spurred me on. But now these tributes vex me because I don’t know if I can live up to them.

Maybe I’m just tired of fighting the impossible.

My latest cascade of battles began in 2019, after getting a breast cancer diagnosis and not knowing whether I’d choose treatment due to Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS). While pushing back on my oncologist’s recommendations, she pulled out all stops in an effort to convince me to fight for my life. She asked, “Can you imagine yourself not doing treatment and regretting it?”

I furrowed my brow and replied, “I’m more concerned that I’ll do treatment and regret living with the damage afterward.”

I was terrified that cancer care, in all its cutting, burning and poisoning glory, would ignite a red-hot mess of CRPS, sending me back to my bedridden days and zeroing out any quality of life I’d clawed back over the decades.

I drew the line. To move forward with treatment, I had to have a life worth living at the other end.

I chose to only do chemo and miraculously lucked out, cancer and pain-wise. When my cancer returned a year and a half later, it appeared I’d skated by again, until I didn’t. While the immunotherapy knocked the tumor out in short order, little did I know that with each infusion my immune system was amping up to push me over the line, but in a way far worse than I could have imagined.

By mid-March, my lap swimming, my go-to for health and freedom, became a painful hell. I couldn’t push off during flip-turns, one leg barely kicked and my neck screamed in agony each time I turned for a breath. I had no choice but to quit.

Soon walking was near impossible: slow, labored and almost shuffling. My knees swelled to the point they wouldn’t allow me to get up from a chair or couch. Frantically, my partner, John, got a raised seat so I could use the toilet. I started losing weight because the pain in my jaw made eating torturous.

Screaming often through the days and nights, I felt hatchets and icepicks throughout my body, grinding glass replaced my joints. When I could sleep, I woke often with fever and chills.                   

After scads of labs, internet research and clinical assessments, I’ve learned that I’m the proud owner of a brand, spankin’ new disease: Reactive Inflammatory Arthritis. I’m now living the experience I feared most, the place where I told myself I couldn’t, wouldn’t go. I’ve stepped over the line, terrified it’s a one way ticket.      

To dampen the inflammation and stabbing pain, hell, just to get me moving, my doctors put me on low-dose naltrexone and prednisone (the latter I swore up and down I’d never revisit.) For that blessed comfort, the cost is mighty. I’m zonked out and joyless while insomnia, constant dizziness and the constipation-diarrhea seesaw zap my quality of life.

With the drug relief, I’m mercifully dipping into a warm therapy pool where I can move, walk and swim some, offering vague hope of recovery. But I see the troubled look in the eyes of my Y friends, the wish that their feisty, frothy friend would reemerge. I can’t help but wonder if they’re playing witness to my slow down and out.         

In my darkest hours, when the arthritic pain makes me question whether I can survive another five minutes, I rock with anger that my tumor’s gone. That was my ticket out. The jokes on me as I live the cancer-free dream. Cue the laugh track. I’m not living and free is nowhere to be found.

When my better angels reappear, I remember why I fought twice, tooth and nail, to see another day. I want to live, to love, and to see the beauty all around me. I want to continue to be a force for good.

Ahh, but that pesky line. I’ve got to get back over it. Or do I? When I got sick 40 years ago, I swore I wouldn’t live on if I couldn’t continue my showbiz career. I was utterly convinced life wouldn’t be worth a damn without it. Yet, here I am, staring down that line again. Maybe, MAYBE there’s some wiggle room one more time.     

I imagine all of us who’ve lived with high-impact pain over the long haul have drawn that line. Then later, took out an eraser and drew it again, renegotiating the terms. At another time, when we drop below, we grasp and beg as we slowly, savagely eek back over. Or not. It’s ever changing, tied to the whims of fate and will.

Maybe the line just gives us an illusion of control. Maybe it’s a frenemy, something that keeps us company whether we’re above or below.

This I know. I’m scared and tired while I stare down my new mountain. I’ve lost cherished independence, that may or may not return, requiring John to be on call at all times. We’re two generations removed since the last time I had to fudge the line, and what if my cancer returns? How many more comebacks can I stage?

Last night, I spewed anger with a close girlfriend, bristling that my impossibles never quell, despite being a good person. At that moment, something awoke in me. I was surprised to feel that old spark in my belly – which has me thinking that anger is serving me well right now.

It was so powerful when Heather commented, “I wouldn’t bet against you.”

I’ve learned that the best way to predict the future is by looking at the past. By that yardstick, I’ve always toed the line, come hell or high water. But like every other climb, I’ll decide what’s good enough, in my time, in my space.

Maybe I can live with that. 

Cynthia Toussaint is the founder and spokesperson at For Grace, a non-profit dedicated to bettering the lives of women in pain. She has lived with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome and 19 comorbidities for four decades, and has been battling cancer since 2020. Cynthia is the author of “Battle for Grace: A Memoir of Pain, Redemption and Impossible Love.”

Learning How to Cope With Childhood Trauma

By Cynthia Toussaint, PNN Columnist

My world became unreal and terrifying when I was 18. Literally, everything looked, sounded and felt distorted. While I’ve long known this experience is called “derealization,” I only recently discovered it’s a form of dissociative coping that sprung from childhood trauma – trauma that also seeded a lifetime of chronic pain, including my Complex Regional Pain Syndrome.

During my trauma-release work last year, I learned that dissociation protects us from experiencing what is too overwhelming: perceived annihilation, if you will. My childhood years were so traumatizing, I now see that my mind made everything unreal to escape the horror of my world, which included domestic violence, mental illness, addiction and suicide.

There are five different forms of dissociation (depersonalization, derealization, amnesia, identity confusion and identity alteration), and my trauma therapist explained that, unfortunately, derealization is the least common variety, with scant research behind it. Also, it’s near-impossible to manage.

When my reality imploded a lifetime ago, my derealization felt anything but protective. It invaded me so dark and destructively, I feared I’d gone insane and that my next stop was an asylum.

It all started by eating too many pot-filled brownies while I was on an anxiety-ridden outing with my abusive brother and his posse. To get home, I was named designated driver because I’d partaken less than the others. I was terrified because I felt like I was on a bad trip. Also, I’m awful with directions and knew my brother would mercilessly belittle me for my wrong turns.               

Still, I took the wheel. Soon, out of nowhere, or so it seemed, I blew through a stoplight and missed a speeding Mack truck by a hair, my spatial abilities incapacitated. There must have been an angel on my shoulder that day as we all should have died. In a way, I did.

After being relieved of my driving duties, the people around me, the cars outside, even my own body became terrifyingly unreal and distorted, like being in a funhouse hall of mirrors. I also had such severe paranoia that when my brother’s girlfriend took a turnoff I wasn’t familiar with, I was certain she was driving me to hell. And when I say hell, I mean fire, brimstone and the guy with the pitchfork and tail.  

The horror didn’t let up for the next couple of weeks as I felt I was looking through a veil of fog. Perhaps the freakiest part was that everyone acted as though they weren’t on the same drug trip. I felt alone, always holding the tears and screams inside. I tried to play along with everyone else’s normal, reminding myself that if I let out my terror, they’d likely have me committed.

Panic Attack

Soon after, when my family took a long-anticipated trip to New York City, I lost my marbles. It was too much of a load of sensory input that I was unable to process in my vulnerable state. One night in our hotel room, I released my panic with a gut-wrenching scream that didn’t let up for hours. Horrified, my family got me to an ER, and I was diagnosed with an anxiety attack. I only wish.

After that, my derealization became my new normal. Good god, it didn’t let up for an entire year. During college and my first professional dancing job, I learned to cope by using distraction and reminding myself that the bad times were temporary, that some days were better than others.

After developing CRPS and seeing my life and dreams crumble a few years later, I had to give in to the spreading, fiery pain by moving back into my mother’s home. Anxiety, fear and despondency took over and my derealization roared back worse than ever. I was debilitated to the point that I could only lie on a bed and stare at cracks in the wall. It was a single crack that looked real to me.

Out of desperation, I saw a compassionate psychiatrist who mercifully blew open my world. I was stunned as he asked questions that lead me to understand that, not only did he believe me to be sane, he actually knew what plagued me. Stunned, I asked him if my symptoms were familiar.

“Let’s just say that if I had a nickel for every patient that came to me with what you’ve got, I could buy something expensive,” he told me. With that, a ton of weight lifted from my shoulders.

This healer put me on a benzodiazepine, Klonopin, and gave me a book that detailed my dissociative disorder. I was no longer alone and, at last, knew I was sane. Regarding the Klonopin, the good doctor added, “I wouldn’t be surprised if your pain lets up as well.” 

Within a few days, my derealization miraculously eased by about 80% and, as a bonus, I went into my first CRPS remission. The word “hope” re-entered my vocabulary, and I was again among the living.           

44 years after eating that brownie, I still wrangle with derealization. If stressed or triggered, the fog closes in, but it no longer runs me. I’m fortunate the clonazepam (generic for Klonopin) is still effective, as I have a brother who isn’t as lucky. He’s suffered most of his life with derealization, and nothing has ever provided respite.

Trauma brings on so much bad in so many ways, and our minds and bodies go to astounding extremes to persevere. Since my trauma-release work, I’ve arrived at surprising new understandings and feelings. I’ve come to a place of acceptance, even a bit of gratitude, for my derealization. It’s gifted a lifetime of protection by shielding me from what I likely wouldn’t have survived. It was simply trying to do right by me. Still is.              

For real.           

Cynthia Toussaint is the founder and spokesperson at For Grace, a non-profit dedicated to bettering the lives of women in pain. She has lived with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) and 19 co-morbidities for four decades, and has been battling cancer since 2020. Cynthia is the author of “Battle for Grace: A Memoir of Pain, Redemption and Impossible Love.”

‘Promising Results’ for Low-Dose Naltrexone as Pain Reliever

By Pat Anson, PNN Editor

Low-dose naltrexone (LDN) continues to get more recognition from the medical community as a treatment for some types of chronic pain.

In a review of 47 studies on the off-label use of LDN, researchers at the University of Kansas Medical Center found “promising results” that naltrexone improves pain and function and reduces symptom severity in patients with chronic inflammatory or centralized pain. Most of the studies were small, however, and larger clinical trials are needed to demonstrate LDN’s efficacy.

“Though the results look promising, further, more well controlled studies are required before formal recommendations can be made,” said lead author Adam Rupp, DO, who will present his findings this week at the annual meeting of the American Society of Regional Anesthesia and Pain Medicine (ASRA) in Orlando, Florida.

Naltrexone is an inexpensive generic drug that is only approved by the Food and Drug Administration as a treatment for substance abuse. In 50mg doses, naltrexone blocks opioid receptors in the brain and decreases the desire to take opiates or alcohol.  

But in smaller doses of 5mg or less, patients with fibromyalgia, interstitial cystitis, intractable pain and other chronic conditions have found LDN to be an effective pain reliever. But because LDN is prescribed “off label” for pain, much of the evidence supporting LDN is anecdotal.

How naltrexone works is not entirely clear, but LDN supporters believe the drug helps modulate the immune system, reducing inflammation and stimulating the production of endorphins, the body's natural painkiller. LDN is not recommended for people currently taking opioid medication because it blocks opioid receptors and may cause withdrawal.

In their literature review, Rupp and his colleagues found that LDN improved physical function, sleep, mood, fatigue and quality of life in patients with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS), fibromyalgia, diabetic neuropathy, Crohn’s disease, rheumatoid arthritis and low back pain. In patients with Crohn’s, improvements were also noted in the colon’s appearance during colonoscopies.

Side effects from LDN were minimal, consisting most commonly of vivid dreams, headaches, diarrhea and nausea. Most of the side effects resolved with continued use of LDN.

“The evidence in this review provides support for the off-label use of LDN for various chronic
inflammatory or centralized pain conditions. However, it is apparent that high-quality controlled studies focusing on administration, dosing and follow up time are needed before formal recommendations can be made,” Rupp said.

“Despite the current paucity of high-quality evidence in the literature, LDN continues to offer promising results in the management of symptoms in patients with chronic inflammatory or centralized pain conditions.”

Because LDN is not recommended as a pain treatment by the FDA or professional medical societies, patients interested in trying it often encounter doctors who refuse to prescribe it or don’t know anything about it. The LDN Research Trust includes a list of LDN-friendly doctors and pharmacies on its website.

New Treatment Offers Hope for Lupus Patients

By Dr. Eric Morand, Monash University, Australia

When real patients have unprecedented positive outcomes to a new treatment, it’s tempting to talk about it as “breakthrough” for medical science. This describes the excitement around a new report from researchers in Germany of a radical new treatment for lupus.

The patients in the study – five people with severe lupus – went into remission following pioneering CAR T-cell treatment, which uses genetically altered cells.

What is lupus, why is this such big news, and what could it mean for other patients and diseases?

Around 5 million people are affected by some form of lupus worldwide. The most common form of lupus is technically known as systemic lupus erythematosus. Though not widespread, it is more common than multiple sclerosis (MS). Both are “autoimmune” diseases where the immune system attacks its owner instead of the germs it is supposed to fight.

MS is an autoimmune disease where the immune system attacks nerve tissue. In contrast, lupus can affect any organ in the body. Treatments for lupus have been so poor for so long that even wealthy and famous people with the disease – like pop star and actor Selena Gomez – have had organ failure resulting in the need for a kidney transplant. A lot of complicating factors have made it hard to improve outcomes for people with the disease.

Firstly, the variety of tissues lupus can affect means no two patients are exactly alike. Diagnosis is hard and often delayed. This also means we researchers have to deal with a lot of complexity as we try to work out what is causing the disease. This clinical variability makes measuring improvement in response to treatment difficult, and many clinical trials have likely failed due to measurement issues.

Second, there is variation between patients in which part of the immune system goes wrong. This means different patients will need different treatments – and we still do not know with certainty how to get this right. But progress is happening fast.

Innate and Adaptive Immunity

The immune system is in two parts, innate and adaptive.

The “innate” immune system responds fast but non-specifically to viruses and other germs that hit the body with a slug of germ-killing inflammatory proteins. The “adaptive” immune system is slower but more precise. It swings into action after the innate immune system and provides long lasting defense against the invading germ.

When you are vaccinated against a disease (such as COVID), the fever and aches you might get in the first day or two is your innate immune system at work. But the long-lasting protection from antibodies is provided by a part of your adaptive immune system, a key part of which is delivered by cells called “B cells”.

In lupus, both parts of the immune system are involved, and both have been successfully used to develop medicines. Earlier this year, the Therapeutic Goods Administration approved anifrolumab, a drug which blocks “interferon”, a crucial protein made by the innate immune system.

Another drug which works on B cells of the adaptive immune system, called belimumab, was approved a few years ago. Unfortunately, neither drug is on Australia’s Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme yet, so access is extremely limited.

However, we now know that interferon and B cells are both important, and so very strong treatments that almost completely eradicate either could be useful. That is where this potential new treatment comes in.

Already Used to Treat Cancer

Treatments to destroy B cells are used in cancers like lymphoma. The most powerful of these uses CAR-T cells, which train a type of natural cell to be an assassin of the B cell.

CAR-T medicines are highly complex to make, and extremely expensive – but they work.

T cells are collected from the blood, then re-engineered in a special laboratory.

Now, this new report shows targeting B cells using this approach could be effective in lupus too. Building on a first-ever patient treated in this way by the same group a year ago, doctors in Germany created a “homemade” CAR-T treatment and used it in five patients with severe lupus.

Remarkably, all five patients had near complete eradication of disease, allowing them to stop conventional medicines, like steroids, with potentially harmful side effects.

What This Means for Other Patients

So what does it mean for patients in Australia? Well, most centres aren’t able to make their own CAR-T treatments, so delivering this potential treatment will require a commercial approach.

However, it might be quicker to market than other treatments in development as it takes a proven approach into a new disease, rather than being new from the ground up.

One day we might even be able to extend such treatments to other autoimmune diseases, like MS, where B cell-directed treatments have been helpful, as well as in lupus.

This would need to be balanced against risk. Importantly, short term side effects of CAR-T treatment (which include brain and bone marrow problems) can be severe. For this reason, such a treatment would only be used for the most severe cases in which standard treatments have failed, like the patients in the German trial.

Long-term side effects are also unknown at this time, and of course suppressing the immune system so profoundly in the setting of a pandemic is not without major risks.

Formal trials of a commercial CAR-T medicine for lupus are in the advanced planning stages already, and Australia is likely to be front and centre of these due to our lupus expertise and trial-friendly regulatory environment. With all these advances, we can at last tell our patients, and our friends and family with lupus, that there is light at the end of what has been a very long tunnel.

Eric Morand, MD, is a clinical rheumatologist and Head of the School of Clinical Sciences at Monash Health, Monash University in Australia.  Dr. Morand consults with companies involved in lupus drug development, including Novartis and AstraZeneca. He receives funding from Australia’s National Health and Medical Research Council and Lupus Research Alliance US, and is a Director of Rare Voices Australia.

This article originally appeared in The Conversation and is republished with permission.

Justin Brown: A CRPS Story of Hope

By Miles Ryan Fisher

When Justin Brown took his first steps at the age of 40, his parents were overcome with joy. Only, it wasn’t the same joy that they’d experienced when he’d taken his first baby steps.  No, this joy came with great pain — the kind of pain that comes with watching one’s child lose nearly half his life to a debilitating condition called Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, also known as “the suicide disease.”

In 2006, just as Justin prepared to enter the working world as a Penn State graduate, he started losing weight. He began regurgitating his meals, vomiting most of whatever he ate. Over time, he grew gaunt. His face sunk and his cheekbones protruded. His skin wrapped around his body until he looked emaciated.

Doctors didn’t have answers. When Justin reached the point that he couldn’t hold down any food, they inserted a J-tube — a feeding tube — in him so that food could bypass his stomach. But it wasn’t his stomach that was the problem. It was the parasite they hadn’t tested for — the one dwelling in his intestine right where the tube was inserted. When they removed the J-tube, they accidentally left a part of it in him.

When Justin awoke from surgery, he awoke to something even more unbearable. Something hellish. The operation triggered a pain that spread through his entire body and left him incapacitated, even after the parasite and tube remnant were removed. At the age of 26, Justin no longer had the strength to walk, not even to the bathroom.

Since 2007, he lay in a hospital bed in the middle of his parents’ living room in Fort Washington, Pennsylvania, his arms at his sides, his head always facing the same direction. In order to subdue the pain that incapacitates him, Justin takes a daily mixture of heavy pain medication, including narcotics.

It took many years until Justin and his family found a doctor who offered an accurate diagnosis: Complex Regional Pain Syndrome or CRPS. Only, the doctor didn’t call it that. Back then, the condition was known as Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy or RSD.  

CRPS/RSD happens when an injury — as minor as a broken finger or as major as surgery — triggers a pain so severe that it is, according to the McGill Pain Index, worse than than amputation. The pain typically remains in the region of the injury, usually involving a limb. But in Justin’s case, it spread through his entire body.

“A lot of people feel like their skin or their nerves are burning, but for me it feels like my bones are being crushed,” Justin says. “If I took my worst pain before CRPS, that would be like a 1 out of 10 compared to my pain now. You really can’t describe it.”

The pain that he’s bravely battled for 17 years has been excruciating and constant. With no end. And no cure.

“It’s there 24/7, and you don’t know when it’s going to go away or if it’s going to go away,” Justin says. “But I had two choices. One was to completely quit. And the other was to keep going and hope that it’ll get better.”

Finding Hope

But now, Justin is finally getting part of his life back through a form of non-allopathic (without drugs or surgery) treatment offered at the Spero Clinic in Fayetteville, Arkansas.

The clinic, which has over 40 employees and treats hundreds of patients every year, was founded in 2012 by Dr. Katinka van der Merwe. Born in South Africa, van der Merwe immigrated to the United States in 1994 and earned her Doctor of Chiropractic degree with the intent of using it to treat individuals who suffer from CRPS and other chronic pain conditions. .

Her clinic’s approach involves treating the vagus nerve, which is the longest and most complex of the body’s 12 cranial nerves. Individuals who suffer from chronic neurologic disorders often have an underactive vagus nerve, which causes inflammation that is either localized or, as in Justin’s case, envelops the entire body. It’s this inflammation that can cause excruciating pain.

“My philosophy and belief is that the body is incredibly intelligent and can heal from the inside out,” van der Merwe says. “People don’t come here to get a diagnosis and medication — they come here to have their bodies rehabilitated.”

The clinic approaches pain treatment in a holistic and noninvasive way, using a variety of therapies and tools involving electrical, physical and auditory/visual/sensory stimulation. It’s the clinic’s range of therapies that helps correct the nervous system and – hopefully -- puts the patient’s pain in remission.

“It’s a completely different approach to everything that I’ve tried so far,” Justin says. This has included the most radical of forms, such as being placed in a ketamine-induced coma in Mexico and brought out of it with the hope that his nerves would essentially reset. Some CRPS patients have found relief with ketamine infusions, but it didn’t work for Justin.

It was last March that Justin began treatment at the Spero Clinic. As soon as the first week ended, Justin experienced progress. It began with his ability to move his hands. Then the next week, he stood up. On the third week, he walked for the first time in 15 years.

Every week after that has brought similar victories — small to a healthy person, but momentous for Justin. Regaining his ability to drink a Gatorade. Regaining his ability to curl two-pound weights. Regaining his ability to wear clothing that fits him, rather than clothing so loose as to not press against his body and cause him a great deal of pain.

“Before I got here, the most I could take were fifteen steps,” Justin says. “And they weren’t good steps. I’d just drag my feet on the ground. Now I walk from my hotel room down a couple hallways, through the center of the hotel, and outside.”

Every incremental gain helps Justin continue to grind. Unlike most patients, who require two or three months of treatment, Justin will need at least half a year because of how severe his CRPS is.

Fundraising Help

The cost of every week of treatment — about $3,000 — is typically not covered by insurance, which does not make it any easier on Justin or his family. If anyone knows this, it’s Philip Robert, one of the Spero Clinic’s CRPS patients in 2016.

Robert spent ten weeks at the clinic and found his recovery so miraculous that he was inspired to form the Burning Limb Foundation, a non-profit whose mission is to raise funds to provide financial assistance to people with CRPS, primarily for treatment at the Spero Clinic. What makes the foundation different from most other non-profits is that 100% of the donations it receives are applied to treatment costs. And unlike other fundraising platforms like GoFundMe, donors are then able to write it off as a charitable gift on their tax returns.

“The idea is to get (CRPS patients) started — get them seed money — so that they can then do a fundraising campaign in the nonprofit world,” Robert says. “We provide a platform in which families can utilize their resources—their network of friends and family—who may be willing to give a little bit more.”

It’s through the Burning Limb Foundation that Justin has received much-needed financial support from family, friends and even people who have never met him but want to play a role in his recovery.

It’s that recovery that Justin realizes is so important, not only to live a life free of pain, but also to inspire others like him who suffer from CRPS. While not cured of the disease, he hopes his remission can bring hope to others.

“If it can work for me, it can work for anybody,” Justin says. “It’s not guaranteed to work for everybody, but it can work for anybody.” 

Miles Ryan Fisher is the Assistant Director of the Building Trades National Medical Screening Program and also serves on the advisory board for Columbia Lighthouse for the Blind. His articles have appeared in the Washington Post, Philadelphia Inquirer, Washingtonian Magazine, Motherly, and Go World Travel.