Showing posts with label National Institutes of Health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label National Institutes of Health. Show all posts

Monday, July 6, 2015

Back from the NIH: Unfortunately, Nothing Dramatic to Report

Well, I’m back from my sojourn to the nation’s capital in search of answers regarding my ever progressing and relentlessly stubborn illness. Sorry it’s taken so long to report back, but the trip left me pretty exhausted, and for the last week or so I just haven’t been myself. Oddly, I think I’ve been Ethel Merman, but that’ll have to be a subject for another blog post…

On the evening of June 23, Karen and I packed ourselves into a rented wheelchair accessible van and hoofed it down to Bethesda, Maryland (just outside of Washington DC) for a visit to the National Institutes of Health, where I was examined by members of their neuroimmunology and endocrine teams. I haven’t yet received a final report, but it doesn’t look like any new discoveries or insights were made about my condition. Despite the fact that I try to keep my expectations in check, this time around I thought that maybe, just maybe, some aspect of my disease would raise its ugly little head high enough to be recognized by one of the doctors handling my case. I’ve been feeling particularly cruddy the last several months, so I thought that perhaps some kind of shift might have occurred that would lead to an “aha” moment. Alas, it appears ‘twas not to be…

The NIH is the US government’s primary medical research organization, and is staffed by some of the best minds in the business. As a taxpaying US citizen who also happens to suffer from a chronic illness (and who is also a bit of a medical research wonk) my visits to the NIH are always interesting, if only to see firsthand our tax dollars being put to good use. For those qualifying for the NIH’s many ongoing studies, treatment is absolutely free, and the NIH Clinical Center, located on a sprawling campus packed with research facilities, is top-notch. Though I’m no longer part of an NIH study, once you’re in you’re in, and I’ve been making semi regular visits to Bethesda ever since 2009 in my quixotic quest for answers to my medical conundrum. Hey, I used “quixotic” and “conundrum” in the same sentence! Bonus points!

This time around I saw the MS neuro who is in charge of my case, Dr. Irene Cortese, as well as a member of the NIH’s endocrine staff. I underwent a full neurologic exam, had MRIs done of my brain, spine, and pituitary gland, lots of blood taken, and had few functionality tests thrown in just for good measure. All of this over the course of two and half days, which made for a pretty grueling schedule. Especially since the NIH doesn’t keep to my nocturnal ways, forcing me to acknowledge that yes, there is such a thing as morning. As a matter of fact, on day two of our visit I had to get up at the ungodly hour of 5 AM to be ready for an early morning MRI appointment, and getting up at 5 AM is NOT in my repertoire of favorite activities. As a matter of fact, going to bed at 5 AM is more my style. Maybe the NIH should have tested me for vampirism. Just call me Count Gimpula.

As I mentioned, I have yet to receive a final report, but I do know that my MRI images were once again unchanged, which is no surprise since they haven’t changed at all since I was diagnosed over 12 years ago. Same two lesions as always, one tiny spot in my brain (again termed “insignificant” and perhaps not even related to my illness), and a big juicy one right at the top of my spinal cord, where it connects to the brainstem. Not a great spot for a very invasive lesion, as there’s lots of important stuff going on in that area with little extra real estate available for any rewiring or other physiological workarounds. My neurologic exam confirmed that I have gotten significantly weaker over the last year and that my muscles have noticeably atrophied. Some of this atrophy might be attributed to all the weight I’ve lost, which in turn might be attributed to my endocrine problems. No surprises there, either.

Speaking of my endocrine problems, I was seen by a member of the NIH’s endocrine staff, a young “fellow” (this particular fellow happened to be a woman), who while quite diligent didn’t seem to want to even try to integrate my myriad endocrine dysfunctions with my neurologic problems. This is one of my pet peeves with modern medicine – it’s become so damned specialized that each individual specialist views the patient through their own very narrow lens, making it almost impossible to find someone to put together all the pieces of the puzzle. The situation is kind of like that old parable about three blind men trying to describe an elephant. One feels the trunk and thinks the beast is a very large snake. Another bumps up against the elephant’s leg and declares that he’s dealing with a tree. The third reaches out and touches the animal’s side and says he’s come across a wall. All very reasonable assumptions, but all quite wrong.

And here I am, presenting with a wide assortment of debilitating symptoms that to me scream “weird systemic disease”, but each specialist I see concentrates only on one very specific aspect of whatever it is that ails me. Sure, I suppose it’s possible that my neurologic symptoms are completely divorced from my endocrine symptoms which are completely divorced from some of my other strange findings, but common sense would seem to dictate that there must be some common thread running through all of them. But I guess I’m just the Count Gimpula Elephant Man who every now and finds himself turned into Ethel Merman, so why look any further? Shouldn’t I at least have my own reality show?

My pituitary MRI showed that I do not have a pituitary tumor, which counterintuitively might actually be bad news, since pituitary tumors are almost always benign and very treatable, so if I did have one something could be done about it. I do suffer from something called Empty Sella Syndrome (click here), meaning that the space in my skull that should be taken up by my pituitary gland is largely vacant due to the fact that my pituitary has shrunk or become flattened. Why? Who knows? I’ve never gotten an answer. I’ve known about this condition since around the year 2000, but somehow this further physical weirdness never seems to get fully factored in to my complicated diagnostic mess. Really though, since it's so evident that I'm the Ethel Merman Count Gimpula Elephant Man, why bother?

So, there you have it, a nutshell summary of my trip to the NIH. The actual trip itself was okay, aside from the fact that the hotel in Maryland decided to forget that I’d reserved a handicapped accessible room so I could barely get into the bathroom the first night of our stay (we didn’t arrive until after 1 AM and had to be out and about by midmorning the next day, so the mistake wasn’t calamitous), and getting back was a slow 7 ½ hour crawl through Northeast corridor traffic, which was none too kind to my crumbling hips. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, even if it doesn’t look like very much was gained. Who knows, maybe once the NIH doctors convene and go over all of my test results something will have revealed itself and I’ll be pleasantly surprised with the final report, but I’m keeping my expectations to a minimum.

Much thanks to everybody who sent me well wishes and notes of support, all of them greatly appreciated. In return, I give you this very private video of me recovering during the week after my return from my visit to Bethesda, when I still wasn’t quite myself…


Tuesday, June 23, 2015

I’m Off to the National Institutes Of Health…

Just wanted to check in lest anybody think I vaporized or otherwise met with misfortune. I’ll have to keep this relatively short, as I’m scrambling to get ready to go to the National Institutes of Health (NIH) Clinical Center, in Bethesda Maryland. The NIH is the US government’s primary medical research organization, and they maintain a state-of-the-art clinical complex on a sprawling campus just outside of Washington DC.

I’ve been seen by the doctors/researchers at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) three times since 2009, when I was part of an NIH study that sought to identify patients with clinically definite multiple sclerosis so that these patients could be used in future MS trials. The NIH conducted this study because they had found the misdiagnosis rate of MS so high in some of their previous research efforts that the number of wrongly diagnosed patients were skewing the results of those trials. In some cases up to 15% of trial subjects were ultimately found to have diseases other than multiple sclerosis. Yes, this number is alarmingly high, and if you think you might be misdiagnosed I wrote an action-packed Wheelchair Kamikaze essay on the subject a few years ago, which you can read by (clicking here).

Being nothing if not pure of soul and kind of heart, I of course had only the noblest intentions for joining the trial, wanting simply to help further the exalted cause of science. Okay, before you’re overcome with nausea I’ll admit to other, less altruistic motives which might have played just a teensy weensy role in my schlepping the five and half hours from New York City to the wilds of the nation’s capital for a medical workup. I’d long suspected that I had, in fact, been misdiagnosed and I knew that as a subject in a study designed specifically to identify clinically definite MS patients I’d be getting a thorough going over by the world-class neuroimmunology team at the NIH, the prospect of which my obsessive impulses quickly latched onto, like a lonely nebbish wrapped around the finger of a femme fatale. Jeez, what an awful metaphor…

Okay, so maybe I’m not so pure of soul and kind of heart, but a selfish bastard interested in nothing more than me me me! Holy Mother of Moses it feels good to finally come clean! By 2009, just six years after my initial diagnosis, I had already been in a wheelchair for a year and despite undergoing all kinds of treatments both mainstream and alternative I was only getting worse. So, yes, I was desperately seeking answers, dammit, and I was dead set on getting them come hell or high water. There, I said it, and I’m glad I said it! Hey, stop looking at me that way or your face will freeze.

After several days of intense poking, prodding, zapping, and scanning, the assembled big brains at the NIH concluded that indeed I did not fit the diagnostic criteria for any form of multiple sclerosis, though they couldn’t come up with any reasonable alternative diagnosis either. Drats! I floated the idea that I might just have a severe case of the cooties, but the esteemed physicians quickly shot down that notion, too. Double drats! An unsatisfying result, to say the least, though the doctors did state that some weird form of MS certainly couldn’t be ruled out. So, as I’ve written previously, my doctors and I have agreed to go with an unofficial diagnosis of PPMS, which in my case stands for the Peculiar Paralysis of Marc Stecker. And, no, I won’t stop making that joke, because it’s just so damned clever.

Now, six years after our first journey to Bethesda, Karen and I will be packing up a rented wheelchair friendly van on Tuesday for yet another sojourn down I-95 to the NIH. Well, actually, Karen will be doing most of the packing since I'm, you know, a complete freaking gimp. I will, though, be driving my wheelchair with reckless abandon around the van as she packs it, in an attempt to keep away the roving hoards of New York City's notorious ne'er-do-wells, these days composed primarily of Wall Street bankers looking to suck every last dime from an almost extinct middle-class…
 
As I recently detailed in “Attacked by a Three-Headed Beast” (click here) my disease has been giving me quite the thorough ass whupping for the last five or six months, with my neurologic problems compounded immensely by an endocrine system gone berserk and a degenerative bone condition that delights in making my hips and shoulders feel like they are made out of red hot razor blades and shards of glass. Last month I contacted the good doctors at the NIH and told them of the situation, and they invited me to come down for another good going over. This time around I’ll be seeing not only the neuroimmunology team but also their endocrine doctors, and I’ll be getting an extensive series of MRIs and whatever other medical tests are deemed necessary. We’re scheduled to return to NYC Friday evening.

I’m hoping that now with all of the elements of my physical decrepitude apparently coming to a head, something will finally show itself that will elicit a flicker of recognition in at least one of the assembled NIH doctors and researchers and we’ll finally start to unravel the mystery of me. My hunch is that my endocrine problems may be playing a much larger role in my physical mess than was previously thought, a possibility that both my top notch New York City neurologist and endocrinologist agree needs to be explored. The general consensus now seems to be that I probably do have some form of progressive MS, but also some widespread systemic dysfunction that is making my body go kablooey.

Yes, in my case kablooey is an official medical term. In all probability my pituitary gland and/or hypothalamus has gone completely kablooey, which has in turn made the rest of my endocrine system absolutely whopperjawed, leading to a mishmash of messeduppedness that has left me feeling like absolute dreck, weak as a batch of watered-down hooch, muscles as wasted as Dean Martin on a bad night, and down about 25 pounds in only the last three or four months. I have lodged an official protest about all of this with the Cosmic Complaint Department, and if I don’t get some satisfaction soon somebody is going to get a severe tongue lashing, the likes of which hasn’t been seen since Groucho Marx made his introduction to Margaret Dumont in “Duck Soup”:





Yes, if my disease doesn’t want to leave in a taxi, it can leave in a huff. If that’s too soon it can leave in a minute and a huff… One way or another, though, it’s gotta go. If it’s one thing I can’t stand it’s a horrendous, crippling illness that overstays its welcome like a houseguest who’s searching the cupboards for more Cheez Whiz while you’re putting on your pajamas. Jeez, what an obvious metaphor…

I’ll report back upon my return from the hallowed halls of the NIH…

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

A Few Bits, a Couple of Pieces, and a Happy Thanksgiving to All…

The First Thanksgiving, painted by Jean Leon G...

With Thanksgiving week upon us, I'm going to keep this one relatively short. Stay tuned, though, as next week I plan on posting a review of the latest in MS research, as there's been lots of important info released over the past six weeks or so. I'll cover the latest news on CCSVI, disease modifying drugs, and other MS research findings, along with the usual few dollops of opinion tossed in.

Please, don't let the inevitable tremendous anticipation of next week's post distract you from enjoying the holiday festivities. As difficult as it may be, try to stay focused on the turkey.

For those readers outside of the United States, who don't celebrate Thanksgiving this week, you'll just have to find something else to occupy your time. My European friends can busy themselves with happy thoughts about figuring out how to survive the impending collapse of the continent's economic system. Actually, we all can probably occupy our minds with such thoughts, as things aren't so hot in the US or Asia either.

WK readers in Canada, whose relatively sane economic policies have spared that country much of the turmoil roiling the rest of the world, will have to find some other distraction. Since Canadian Thanksgiving was last month, perhaps thoughts of hockey will have to suffice, or finding new and entertaining uses for maple syrup. It'll be hard to beat Sortilege (click here), though, which for the uninitiated is some pretty strong hooch made with maple syrup. BTW, kudos on the Canadian national anthem. As far as national anthems go, "Oh Canada" kicks major booty…

Okay, I said I was going to keep this short, and it's already getting long, so on with the show…

♦ A neuroimmunology researcher from the Scripps Institute sent me a note alerting me to an online petition she has started (click here), urging the US government to devote more funds to basic biomedical research at the National Institutes of Health.
 
I agree with her sentiments wholeheartedly, as the NIH is a precious resource that can't be left to wither on the vine, and is one of the last bastions of unbiased large-scale medical research left in the USA. The vast majority of our medical research is funded by for-profit pharmaceutical and medical device companies, who naturally devote their hard-earned bucks to research that stands a chance of turning them a huge profit. Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of capitalism, but money and medicine often make for terrible bedfellows. Even in this time of looming budget deficits, squeezing the NIH of funds will do nothing to solve our economic problems. Consider the following numbers:

For 2011 budget, U.S. spending on:
Social security was $2564 per citizen (20.8% of the budget)
Defense was $2203 per citizen (18% of the budget)
Medicare was $1569 per citizen (12.8% of the budget)
Medicaid was $1172 per citizen (7.8% of the budget)
NIH was $99 per citizen (0.8% of the budget)

Certainly, the funding of medical research is one of the last places we should be looking for savings. Finding newer and more effective treatments and even cures for dread diseases would pay huge dividends in the long run, both in human capital and reduced health care costs. I would think this issue is something that rational citizens across the political spectrum should be able to agree on. So please sign the petition…

♦ I recently came across an interesting new medical information website, called Medify.com (click here). The site offers links to lots of research abstracts and papers, along with patient to patient communities. A wonderful source of medical info, some of it otherwise hard-to-find, well worth checking out.

♦ Saving the best bit of medical info for last, here's some extremely exciting news: one of the nation's first multiple sclerosis stem cell therapy trials has been given the green light (click here), and should be soon underway. The Multiple Sclerosis Resource Center of New York (MSRCNY), in conjunction with the International Cellular Medicine Society (ICMS), will be conducting a 20 subject trial on patients with a definitive diagnosis of progressive MS, using mesenchymal stem cell derived neural progenitor cells, harvested from the patients' bone marrow, in an attempt to regenerate damaged nervous system tissues.

The director of the MSRCNY, Dr. Saud Sadiq, is my personal neurologist, and I know firsthand that his research facility, staffed with world-class scientists from around the world, has been hard at work for many years doing groundbreaking research in preparation for this trial. Stem cell therapy offers tremendous hope for MS patients, as it holds the promise of actually repairing the damage done by MS and restoring function lost to the disease. Let's all hope this first trial is a resounding success, one from which we all may reap tremendous benefit in the years to come. The trial is set to run for three years.

♦ I leave you with the following piece of eye candy (it's not hard on the ears, either), which is simply breathtaking. It takes 30 seconds or so to really get going, but be patient, and you'll be amazed by a stunning natural phenomenon, created by nothing more exotic than a flock of starlings…



Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.


 

Happy Thanksgiving! Gobble, gobble…
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Tuesday, February 22, 2011

The Misdiagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis, and the Mystery of Me…

Detail of plate 4, figure 4 of Pathological An...

Image via Wikipedia

As most patients know, diagnosing Multiple Sclerosis is no easy matter. Despite sophisticated diagnostic tools and techniques, such as MRI imaging, spinal fluid analysis, and visual and sensory evoked potentials, the diagnosis of MS remains one of exclusion, meaning that other likely diseases must be eliminated before a conclusive diagnosis of MS can be made. There is no test or tests that can definitively determine whether or not a patient is suffering from MS. There are indicators that are strongly suggestive of MS, such as brain and/or spinal cord lesions seen on MRIs, and oligoclonal bands (O-bands) in the Cerebrospinal Fluid, but even the presence of these does not guarantee that a diagnosis of MS is correct.

Although MRIs can detect lesions in the CNS, they can't determine specifically what those lesions are, as a tumor and an area of demyelination can often look much the same on an MRI image. Therefore, a subjective determination of the nature of any lesions found must be made by a radiologist or neurologist. O-bands in the CSF indicate immune activity in the CNS, but they are not specific to MS, as other conditions can also create them. A relapsing remitting course of disability onset is highly suggestive of Multiple Sclerosis, but this too does not rule out other disease possibilities, and some MS patients present with a progressive course of the disease. In the book " Multiple Sclerosis: Diagnosis, Medical Management, and Rehabilitation", neurologist P. K. Coyle writes:

"… early accurate diagnosis is critical. It guides optimal therapy, removes uncertainty, allows informed planning, and improves the patient's sense of well-being by providing an explanation for their problems. Unfortunately, the misdiagnosis rate for MS approximates 5% to 10%, even by experienced healthcare providers"

In an effort to cut down on the number of misdiagnoses, in 2001 a set of diagnostic guidelines was developed, called The McDonald Criteria (click here), that attempts to quantify the test results and clinical presentations necessary for a definitive diagnosis of each of the various forms of MS. In 2009, however, I took part in a study at the National Institutes of Health (the United States government's medical research facility) that was designed specifically to look for patients with Clinically Definite Multiple Sclerosis (more on my experience in the study later). The NIH undertook this study because they had found that the rate of misdiagnosed patients recruited for their MS research studies was at least 10%, and the data from these patients was polluting their research results. The doctors at the NIH were attempting to identify a pool of patients that they were confident actually have Multiple Sclerosis for use in future studies.

There are many diseases and conditions that can be mistaken for MS, including Lyme Disease, Hughes Syndrome, Primary Lateral Sclerosis, Neuromyelitis Optica, Vitamin B12 Deficiency, and Lupus, to name a few. The paper "The Differential Diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis" (click here) gives a comprehensive overview of the many red flags that doctors must look for when diagnosing MS, and includes a list of 100 diseases that can be misdiagnosed as MS. Another valuable paper on the topic, "Differential Diagnosis of Suspected Multiple Sclerosis: a Consensus Approach" (click here) provides a list of symptoms that should lead a physician to question a diagnosis of MS, and discusses four of the diseases most likely to be misidentified as MS.

If you have reason to question your diagnosis, the above materials can be invaluable. However, be careful not to drive yourself crazy with the information they contain, as they provide so much data that it's very easy to convince yourself that you've been wrongly diagnosed. Even with a misdiagnosis rate of 10%, the vast majority of patients have in fact been given the correct diagnosis.

My own case illustrates the difficulties involved with reaaching a conclusive diagnosis of MS, to the extreme. I had doubts about my diagnosis almost from the day I received it. Although my initial presenting symptom (a slight limp) was very typical for someone with PPMS, the more I read up on the disease, and interacted with other patients who had it (mostly online), the less convinced I became that the diagnosis was correct. I'd been having strange symptoms for years (antibody-based thyroid disease, possible discoid lupus, a variety of endocrine problems ) and my MRIs showed only two lesions, a tiny one in my brain, and a larger, much more invasive lesion at the base of my brainstem. In addition, my spinal fluid results were always normal, showing no O-bands.

As time went on, my disease continued to behave strangely, initially attacking only my right side. Despite the relentless progression of my disability, my MRI images never changed, and haven't to this day. They still show only those same two non-enhancing lesions, which haven't changed in size or shape since they were first seen over eight years ago. My MRI images from 2003 look exactly like the ones I had taken last month, but compared to 2003, I'm now a physical wreck. I switched neurologists one year after my diagnosis, and my new neuro also initially suspected that I might not have MS. I underwent a comprehensive series of tests and scans trying to uncover an alternate culprit, all to no avail. Everything came back negative, and, since MS is a diagnosis by exclusion, the only candidate left standing was Primary Progressive Multiple Sclerosis. So, I was left with the label "atypical PPMS".

Never one to settle for something I wasn't sure of, especially something as important as the diagnosis of a progressively crippling disease, I set about on a quest for second and third (and fourth) opinions. I visited infectious disease doctors who specialized in Lyme Disease, but very specialized blood tests came back negative. I scheduled an appointment at the Johns Hopkins MS center, in Baltimore, and was examined by Dr. Peter Calabresi, one of the biggest names in MS research. He too found my disease presentation strange, and ordered an extensive series of tests, which included the taking of over 30 vials of blood (yikes!), but these too all came back negative. So, Johns Hopkins also concluded that I have "atypical PPMS". "How atypical does a disease have to be before it's not that disease?", I asked to all who would listen, but never really got a good answer.

My primary neuro, Dr. Saud Sadiq, who is himself a highly regarded physician, occasionally sent me for various tests and poking and prodding, just to check that we hadn't missed something. Always, the results came back negative. I kept in touch with Dr. Calabresi from Johns Hopkins, and two years after he first examined me, I sent him some of my latest MRI images, which looked exactly like my old MRI images, and told him that my disease had progressed significantly. As this seemed extremely strange, he asked that I come down for another examination. After another neurologic workup, Dr. Calabresi concluded that he had strong doubts that I had MS, but couldn't figure out what it was I did have. He suggested I might have a mitochondrial disorder, or Sjogren's disease. Off I went to see one of the most noted mitochondrial disease specialists in the states, who quickly determined that my mitochondria were fine. I had a lip biopsy done looking for Sjogren's disease, but, of course, it came back negative…

It was then that I learned of the study being done at the NIH, which cast a wide net looking for MS patients to examine, trying to find a sizable pool of candidates that the NIH researchers could be confident had Clinically Definite Multiple Sclerosis for use in future studies. At first they were reticent to accept me into the study, as they generally weren't taking patients more than a 2 hours drive from their facility. New York City is about five hours from the NIH campus in Bethesda, Maryland, just outside of Washington DC. When I sent them the details of my case, though, the staff became intrigued, and asked me to join the study. In all, I made four trips to Bethesda, and went through every test the NIH Neuroimmunology team thought was appropriate. At first, they too labeled me "atypical PPMS", but in the end, they decided that I most likely do not have MS, as I certainly didn't fit any of the existing diagnostic criteria. They could not come up with a suitable alternate diagnosis, though, leaving me as something of a medical mystery (click here for a WK post I made about this at the time).

Interestingly, the NIH did raise the possibility that my disease could be ischemic in nature, meaning that it might have something to do with my circulatory system. So, I pursued CCSVI treatment, which did show an atypical blockage of my right internal jugular vein. I hate that word, atypical. Instead of the blockage being inside the vein, as is typical and usually caused by a valve problem, stenosis of the vein wall, or an anomalous membrane, my blockage appears to be caused by a muscle outside of the vein pinching it partially closed. Balloon angioplasty couldn't open this blockage, and the use of a stent would be quite dangerous, because the pressure put on it by the muscle pressing on my vein would lead to a high likelihood of stent fracture. I hope to undergo a second procedure some time in the next several months, to look for other blockages and see if there might be a way to address the atypical (ugh) blockage already found.

My primary neurologist says he still can't rule out a highly atypical case of PPMS, though he acknowledges my case is quite odd. Since MS is a diagnosis by exclusion, and we've been able to exclude practically every other possible cause for my condition, I suppose "atypical PPMS" it is. So, I still self identify as an MS patient.

Whatever you choose to call my disease, it's giving me a good ass whuppin'. My neuro and I (okay, maybe just I) have come to an understanding about the label, though: In my case, PPMS stands for the Peculiar Paralysis of Marc Stecker.

How atypical…

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Thursday, October 28, 2010

A Roundup of CCSVI Info: Thoughts and Observations

The veins of the neck, viewed from the front.

Image via Wikipedia

But first, a little shameless self-promotion: I was recently interviewed for a radio piece on CCSVI that will be airing on National Public Radio this coming Monday, November 1, between 6 AM and 9 AM, during their Morning Edition program (click here to find the NPR station in your area). I have no idea how much of my interview they'll use, and wouldn't at all be surprised if only a few seconds of my voice is heard. Still, it was very flattering to be asked to participate, and it's also very encouraging that NPR is doing a segment on CCSVI, which has been largely ignored by the US media. For everyone who misses the live broadcast, the segment will be archived on the NPR website, and I'll post a link as soon as it's available.

And now, on with the show. I haven't written about CCSVI in quite some time, so the below post is very long, almost twice as long as any other piece I've ever posted. You might want to grab a cup of coffee and a couple of toothpicks to hold your eyelids open before attempting to plow your way through it…

The topic of the vascular theory of MS, which was initially hypothesized by Italian vascular surgeon Dr. Paolo Zamboni, and has come to be called CCSVI (Chronic Cerebrospinal Venous Insufficiency), continues to inflame the MS community among both patients and physicians alike (if you're unfamiliar with CCSVI, please click here). At times the debate over the validity of the CCSVI theory and the efficacy of the procedure used to address it (known as "The Liberation Procedure") has reached the level of hysteria on MS Internet forums, countless CCSVI Facebook sites, and in the print media, with outrageously hyperbolic statements pouring forth from both sides. The most fervent CCSVI advocates claim with absolute certainty that CCSVI is the cause of MS, and that the Liberation Procedure is a cure for the disease, while the theory's staunchest critics label it a hoax, and those physicians practicing the Liberation Procedure con artists selling desperate patients snake oil.

At this stage of the game, when very few scientifically valid trials have been conducted, both extreme viewpoints have absolutely no basis in fact, and these vehement arguments only confuse the issue all the more, creating adversarial tensions precisely when a spirit of open-mindedness and cooperation are desperately needed. Furthermore, these loudly voiced conflicting opinions can only work to the detriment of chronically ill patients vainly searching for answers that simply do not yet exist, adding clutter and confusion to an already complicated issue.

We are in an age of discovery in regards to CCSVI, and over the last several months much has been learned about the condition and the treatment protocols used to address it, though the picture remains far from clear. Many patients, understandably clamoring for easy access to the Liberation Procedure, argue that the procedure is nothing more than angioplasty, which is performed quite commonly on cardiac patients in hospitals around the world, and that they should be given access to the treatment for the simple reason that blocked veins need to be unblocked, regardless of whether or not a patient has MS. Both of these arguments seem quite valid at first glance, but don't really hold up to greater scrutiny.

Angioplasty is indeed a common procedure, and a very safe one at that. The Liberation Procedure, though, is not angioplasty, which is performed on arteries, but venoplasty, performed on veins, a procedure that is done much less commonly. This may seem like a minor discrepancy, but in fact presents some significant challenges to both the doctors performing the procedure and the technologies used during it.

In terms of anatomy, veins and arteries are very different creatures. The major arteries are quite rigid, designed to withstand the intense pressure of blood being pumped through them by the beating heart. Thus, when they are ballooned or stented open during angioplasty, they tend to stay open, given their natural rigidity. Veins, on the other hand, are thin-walled and flexible (just play with the ones on the back of your hand to see what I mean), presenting a very different target for the balloons or stents used during the Liberation Procedure. Virtually all of the equipment used during the Liberation Procedure was originally designed for utilization in arteries, and this has led to less than ideal efficacy when used in veins, as I will discuss in more detail a bit later. From a safety standpoint, as long as the procedure is confined to the use of balloons to open narrowed or blocked veins, the Liberation Procedure is quite safe.

As for the assertion that blocked veins need to be unblocked regardless of the overall health of the patient, this too is not as clear-cut as it first may seem. Since arteries are the primary culprits in cardiac disease and strokes, human venous anatomy has been very little studied by modern medicine. Incredible, but true. I've been told by several radiologists and vascular specialists (including those at the National Institutes of Health) that there truly is no definition of "normal" that can be used as a benchmark when assessing an individual patient’s venous system.

Indeed, initial studies have shown that up to 25% of healthy people appear to have the vascular blockages known as CCSVI, to no apparent ill effect (click here for info). Venous anatomy is redundant and adaptable, and it had been thought that blockages in veins are largely compensated for by this adaptability. Blood flow blocked in one vessel was assumed to be simply routed through another, or through new vessels grown by the body to make up for the blockage, called collaterals. Perhaps one fringe benefit of the investigation into CCSVI will be closer attention paid to venous anatomy on the whole.

It's important to keep in mind that Dr. Zamboni's theory involves not only blockages in veins, but more precisely, the reflux of deoxygenated blood back into the central nervous system caused by those blockages. Therefore, not all venous blockages meet the requirements of CCSVI.

My own case is a perfect example. A catheter venogram revealed that I have a significant blockage in my right internal jugular vein. Further testing indicated that this blockage is quite unusual, as it is not caused by an abnormality internal in the vein, as is the usual case, but rather by an external muscle pinching the vein significantly closed. The Interventional Radiologist who did my procedure reviewed my case with Dr. Zamboni, who is of the opinion that although my vein is clearly blocked, this blockage has not resulted in a turbulent backflow of blood, and therefore should not be treated. Not really what I wanted to hear, but facts is facts. I do plan on getting further testing to confirm Dr. Zamboni's opinion.

Earlier this month, one of the major international MS conferences took place in Sweden. Known as ECTRIMS (European Committee on Treatment and Research in Multiple Sclerosis), this year's conference featured many presentations on CCSVI, which in itself is something of a victory. During last year's conference nary a word about CCSVI was mentioned.

Much of the evidence presented at ECTRIMS was mixed, on the whole seemingly confirming a correlation between Multiple Sclerosis and the vascular abnormalities known as CCSVI, but also casting some doubt as to whether or not CCSVI is a cause, rather than an effect, of Multiple Sclerosis. Dr. Robert Zivadinov, who leads the team of researchers vigorously investigating CCSVI at the University of Buffalo, presented several very interesting papers. One paper demonstrated that the severity of CCSVI increases with the severity of Multiple Sclerosis symptoms experienced by patients, and with a more advanced disease course (click here for abstract). These findings were backed up by papers presented by researchers from Beirut (click here for abstract) and Italy (click here for abstract). If CCSVI were the cause of MS, the researchers would expect that a constant level of vascular abnormalities would be seen across the entire spectrum of disability levels and duration of disease among patients studied, which is not what their studies demonstrated. Other research presented at the conference contradicted these findings, such as a paper presented by Dr. Marian Simka, an Interventional Radiologist in Poland who has done hundreds of Liberation Procedures, which found that CCSVI plays a role in the cause and progression of MS, and that the vascular abnormalities were most likely congenital (click here for abstract).

Another study presented by Dr. Zivadinov found that subjects who presented with CCSVI had significantly more lesions and brain atrophy as measured by MRI than those MS patients without vascular abnormalities (click here for abstract). Yet another investigation presented by Dr. Zivadinov looked at the correlation between a gene implicated with MS, and CCSVI, and found that the data supported an association between MS disease progression and CCSVI separate from the suspect gene. The implications of these findings are that CCSVI could be a risk factor in developing the disease, or a result of the progression of MS (click here for abstract).

Clearly, the data presented at ECTRIMS was a mixed bag, which some CCSVI advocates found disappointing in that much of the evidence offered did not point to CCSVI being a direct cause of MS. Still, the studies did reveal a very strong correlation between vascular abnormalities and Multiple Sclerosis, which in itself is a giant step forward in convincing a dubious scientific community that these abnormalities do play a significant role in the puzzle that is MS. Much more research is needed to resolve the challenging questions posed by CCSVI, and such research is ongoing at the present time in multiple locations worldwide.

Some staunch CCSVI advocates have tried to dismiss research with findings not to their liking by claiming that the methodology used was faulty, or that the researchers themselves were tainted by their associations with pharmaceutical companies. As for the methodology used, it may be different than that originally used by Dr. Zamboni, and thus might in fact be invalid, but it does occur to me that the physical abnormalities found in CCSVI are not subtle in nature. We are talking about rather severe blockages in blood vessels, significant enough to cause blood to actually flow backwards through those vessels. It would seem that abnormalities of this magnitude should be detectable by more than one set of extremely specific methods of measurement. But, as I stated previously, venous anatomy has been little studied in the past, so perhaps the technological choices are indeed limited.

As for researchers whose integrity has been compromised by their ties to pharmaceutical companies, if all such physicians were prohibited from taking part in research studies, there would be practically no medical research conducted at all. A tragic truth about our current medical system is that almost every physician practicing in the United States has some affiliation with a pharmaceutical or medical device company. This phenomenon is not limited to neurologists, as some would make it seem, but is epidemic throughout the medical community. A wide range of doctors have affiliations with drug companies; orthopedic surgeons have relationships with the makers of artificial joints (click here for a fascinating New York Times article on this), cardiac surgeons are courted by the makers of replacement heart valves, and Interventional Radiologists have associations with the makers of the stents, catheters, and balloons with which they ply their trade. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, capitalism is a wonderful engine for driving an economy, but is absolutely corrosive when applied to the practice of medicine. When patients are viewed first as consumers of medical products and services, something is seriously wrong. I previously expounded on this disturbing topic in a previous post, "The Medical Industrial Complex: Sick People Required", which you can access by clicking here.

One of the big problems involved in the study of CCSVI in that none of the noninvasive imaging techniques used to try to detect venous abnormalities in patients before having them undergo an invasive catheter venogram are all that reliable. MRV imaging in particular has proven to be almost worthless, as yet another study conducted by Dr. Zivadinov and presented at ECTRIMS demonstrated (click here for abstract). Doppler Sonography, while more accurate, is only useful in detecting CCSVI when used according to very specific protocols, and conducted by a highly skilled operator. Even when such conditions are met, Sonography is somewhat subjective, as the Zamboni trained sonographer who did my Doppler scan has said. Sonograms can be interpreted differently by different physicians, and time after time both MRV and sonogram imaging done on patients have proven to be unreliable once a catheter venogram is performed. The blockages suggested by the noninvasive techniques simply don't correspond to what is actually found in patients when the catheter is inserted into their veins.

While the academic questions regarding CCSVI are all very interesting and fodder for great controversy, the biggest question for those of us suffering from Multiple Sclerosis is whether or not the Liberation Procedure can relieve our symptoms. If it turns out that the procedure is a cure, well, then MSers have hit the jackpot. If liberation "only" results in a dramatic drop-off in the misery caused by the disease, it's still a huge win, and will forever change the way MS is researched and treated. More importantly, hundreds of thousands of MS patients around the world will have a new and relatively straightforward conduit to relief.

Since no formal treatment studies have been conducted thus far (several are currently underway), we can only rely on the anecdotal accounts of patients who have undergone the Liberation Procedure when assessing its effectiveness. It's been estimated that over 2000 procedures have been performed in various locations around the world, but we've only heard from, at most, perhaps 100-150 of these patients. When assessing these accounts, which are usually quite encouraging, it's important to keep in mind that the preponderance of mostly positive reports related on Internet forums and YouTube videos are a product of the natural phenomenon of people who have positive outcomes to be much more inclined to make their results public than those with negative experiences. This isn't an attempt at subterfuge on anybody's part, but merely human nature. Reports from several clinicians doing the Liberation Procedure indicate that the success rate is less robust than might be inferred from Internet accounts. Still, some important trends can be identified in the anecdotal reports available.

It does appear that the Liberation Procedure does positively impact MS symptoms for a significant portion of the patients on whom it is performed. These positive results range from dramatic to slight, but another significant portion of patients, albeit a minority, report receiving no benefit from the procedure at all, some even telling of a worsening of their condition post procedure. We are also seeing the very troubling trend of restenosis (veins closing back up) several weeks or months after balloon venoplasty, and also an increasing amount of accounts of problems with stents implanted in patients' jugular veins, primarily in the form of stent thrombosis (clotting), and stented veins stenosing in areas above or below the location of stent implantation.

Although the accounts of restenosis are discouraging for the patients who experience it, their stories speak loudly to the validity of the CCSVI hypothesis and the effectiveness of the Liberation Procedure. Patients tell of experiencing marked improvements after having had the procedure, but then a dramatic worsening when their veins once again collapse. Upon a second attempt at liberation, most of these patients once again experience benefit. Unfortunately, many of these patients restenose yet again, accompanied by the return of their MS symptoms. This is a strong indication that resolving vascular blockages at the very least results in symptom improvement for a significant number of MS patients. However, with the incidence of restenosis far too common, strategies must be developed to address this vexing problem. Obviously, patients can't be expected to undergo repeated invasive procedures (which include a not insignificant dose of radiation) to address a continuing pattern of restenosis.

Stents have been used to treat veins that were resistant to ballooning or were otherwise problematic. The use of stents in the jugular veins has been somewhat controversial from the outset, as all of the available stents were designed for use in arteries, which generally carry a much more robust blood flow than veins, and which narrow in the direction of blood flow. This means that the risk of clotting in arterial stents is much less than in veins, and that any stent getting loose in an artery would only get pushed further into that artery, rather than have a clear path to the heart, which is the case for stents implanted in the jugulars.

As accounts of problems with stents increase, several doctors and clinics that perform the Liberation Procedure have shied away from using them. Since, once implanted, stents generally cannot be removed, the long-term failure rates of stents are also of considerable concern. The only other patient population that regularly receives venous stents are late stage renal patients, whose veins collapse as a result of kidney dialysis. Studies of the patency rates of stents placed in these patients are less than encouraging, finding failure rates as high as 50% after one year (click here for info). While the two patient populations in question are extremely different, the risk of stent failure in the long term is a legitimate concern, especially since the currently available stents were designed for use primarily in thoracic arteries, where they're not subject to the constant bending, twisting, and torque they experienced when placed in the very flexible human neck. Whether or not to allow the use of stents is among the many very difficult decisions patients considering liberation must make. I personally decided that I would not allow their use.

Obviously, large-scale treatment studies are desperately needed to determine not only the efficacy of the Liberation Procedure, but also the best methods and practices for performing it. Currently, the techniques used vary widely from doctor to doctor, with no real consensus among the treating physicians regarding the size of balloons to use during venoplasty, the use and placement of stents, or even what constitutes a treatable stenosis. Furthermore, many of the Interventional Radiologists performing the procedure have commented on the rather steep learning curve involved in getting it right.

Increasingly, it appears that the CCSVI picture is more complicated than originally thought, with more blood vessels (including the lumbar, iliac, and vertebral veins) likely involved. The Liberation Procedure is a work in progress, and procedures done a year from now will probably differ significantly from those done today. Physicians are still in the early learning stages in regards to the treatment of CCSVI, and patients should be wary of being a part of anybody's learning curve. The success rate of Interventional Radiologists who have done numerous procedures appears to be much greater than those with less experience. Again, the decision of what physician to choose needs to be given very careful consideration by patients considering liberation; not just any doctor offering the procedure will be adept in its performance. There is increasingly a "Wild West" environment developing out there, as the prospect of huge financial gains made by offering the Liberation Procedure becomes apparent to physicians worldwide, who might undertake the procedure without the proper training and requisite experience. This is a pitfall that patients need to be very aware of, and must be very careful to guard against. Ask any potential treating physician serious questions, request patient references, and do as much research as possible. Until the myriad questions regarding CCSVI and its treatment are fully resolved, there will be plenty of opportunities for hucksters to take advantage of desperate patients.

A burgeoning medical tourism industry has sprung up around CCSVI, with clinics offering the Liberation Procedure in such diverse locations as Poland, Bulgaria, India, and Costa Rica, for prices generally ranging from $10,000-$20,000. Because of the persistent problems with restenosis, stent thrombosis, physician competency, the necessity for post procedure medical care, and the constantly evolving knowledge base regarding the best standards and practices of the Liberation Procedure, I strongly urge patients to forgo traveling long distances for treatment.

In a best case scenario, in which a patient travels thousands of miles and spends heaps of money to be treated with balloon venoplasty, and finds themselves to be amongst those lucky enough to see significant benefit from the procedure, there is still the large risk (some place it at 50%) of restenosis some weeks or months post procedure. In such a case, the patient would be back to square one, less the large amounts of money they spent on travel and the procedure itself.

Furthermore, aftercare is very important, as patients are commonly placed on blood thinning drugs post procedure. These drugs need to be carefully monitored for months after treatment. If a stent is implanted, it may be quite difficult for patients experiencing complications to find appropriate treatment locally, with the possibility of dire consequences. Keep in mind, too, that there is no guarantee that any given patient will be among those who experience dramatic improvement. One prominent Interventional Radiologist that has performed well over 100 Liberation Procedures estimates that one third of his patients see no benefit from the procedure. Given those odds, combined with the high risk of restenosis and the very small but real chance of medical complications that might arise after liberation, traveling long distances and spending tens of thousands of dollars to pursue treatment cannot be recommended.

Of course, every patient must make decisions regarding CCSVI and the Liberation Procedure based on their own unique circumstances. For the majority of patients, I would strongly advise waiting 6 to 12 months before seeking liberation, as much more information from both academic and treatment research studies will be available, and some standardization and identification of best practices will be achieved in the coming months by the Interventional Radiologists performing the procedure.

It's very important, and very difficult, to make an unemotional and accurate assessment of your own condition and rate of progression. Karen likes to chide me about the fact that I've been saying that I'm six months away from being bedridden for the last three years. Presently, my right side is almost completely paralyzed, and my left side is weakening considerably. Not a good combination. I understand the desperation that all MS patients feel, regardless of the particulars of their state of disability. We all want to just be rid of this disease. But unless your situation is genuinely dire, it will absolutely be in your best interest to allow the science of CCSVI and the techniques that go into the Liberation Procedure to mature, as doctors gain experience and more hard facts about the condition become available. Most MS patients experience a relatively slow progression of disability. Waiting, especially in the face of the hype surrounding CCSVI, is extremely difficult, but in this case might save you considerable bodily wear and tear, significant sums of money, and much heartache. If your situation is genuinely dire, and your condition is rapidly declining to the point that your quality of life soon will be nonexistent, then all bets are off. Do what you feel needs to be done.

I firmly believe that CCSVI will prove to play a major part in the MS puzzle. Like all things related to MS, its impact will vary from patient to patient. For some patients, it may very well be THE answer to their problems, for others only a partial solution, and for others still it may play no role at all. MS is a very complex and frustrating disease, truly a scourge to those who suffer from it. CCSVI offers a light at the end of the tunnel, but there is still much work that needs to be done. Thankfully, dedicated researchers and physicians are actively looking for answers, even in the face of sometimes withering criticism, and their findings may very well result in paradigm shattering changes that rock the world of MS. But it is still very early in the game, and it's important to remember that discretion is often the better part of valor, and that the race does not always go to the swift.

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Sunday, March 7, 2010

Well, I'm Going for It - Having CCSVI Procedure This Wednesday

photoshop practice again

Image by nats via Flickr

This Wednesday, March 10, I'm scheduled to undergo a diagnostic venogram, looking for stenosis (narrowing) and/or other abnormalities in my azygos and jugular veins. If any such anomalies are found, they will be addressed via a balloon procedure. The venogram itself involves feeding a catheter from a vein in my upper thigh, through my vascular system, to the veins associated with the central nervous system. In the parlance of CCSVI, this is known as the "Liberation Procedure". (For info on CCSVI, click here)

The procedure will be performed at Kings County Hospital in Brooklyn, New York, by Dr. Salvatore J. A. Sclafani, the Chief of Radiology of the facility. He's also Professor and Chairman of Radiology at the SUNY Downstate Medical School. Dr. Sclafani has a long history of innovation in the field of interventional radiology, and is excited to be at the vanguard of CCSVI research and treatment. He attended the recent CCSVI conference in Hamilton, Ontario, along with all of the acknowledged experts in the field, including Dr. Paolo Zamboni, who developed the CCSVI hypothesis. Dr. Sclafani continues to regularly consult with Dr. Zamboni.

I'm hopeful that the procedure will prove to be of benefit, but I'm also trying to keep in mind the realities of my situation. It's important to understand that my illness is highly atypical. There's much question about my diagnosis, and it's quite likely that what is causing my neurodegeneration is not MS.

The neuro immunology team at the National Institutes of Health has examined me extensively, and has concluded that my disease does not fit any of the diagnostic criteria that are required to label my condition Multiple Sclerosis. They aren't sure what I do have, but one of the possibilities they've talked about is that my disease may be primarily vascular in nature, since a CT venogram done this summer did reveal stenosis very high up in my left internal jugular, unfortunately in a spot that will be difficult to fix. However, Dr. Zamboni has recently expressed the opinion that stenosis high in the jugulars is often secondary to stenosis found lower in the vein, and that addressing the lower stenosis often opens up the upper problem as well.

My primary neurologist here in New York is less convinced that I don't have MS, but agrees that whatever disease afflicts me is highly atypical. I have only one significant lesion, at the very base of my brainstem, which has not changed in size or appearance in the nine years that I've been getting regular MRI imaging. My spinal fluid is clear of O-bands or other evidence of inflammation, and my clinical presentation is at odds with the results of my diagnostic testing. I do have evidence of "autoimmune activity", such as Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, and some unexplained episodes in my medical history.

As a result of this lack of clarity regarding my diagnosis, Dr. Sclafani and I are unsure as to what Wednesday's venogram will reveal, or that addressing any problems that do show up will have any beneficial impact at all on my condition. If I don't have MS, then the CCSVI theory doesn't even apply to me. However, my disease progression continues unabated, and since I already know that I have stenosis in my CNS venous anatomy, it makes sense to further investigate the possibility that vascular problems may be playing a part in my illness.

Thanks to the diligence and hard work of a very small group of grassroots activist MS patients, who relentlessly sought out physicians who would pick up the CCSVI gauntlet, Dr. Sclafani agreed to look at the available evidence, and upon doing so became convinced that the CCSVI theory has merit and warrants serious investigation. After much study and consideration, he's recently begun performing catheter venogram procedures on MS patients, and has found a high correlation between MS and CNS venous abnormalities. He's addressed these abnormalities using balloon angioplasty, to gently force open the azygos and/or jugular veins of his patients.

I first met with Dr. Sclafani about six weeks ago, and he devoted over three hours to consulting with my wife and me. After first being examined by the hospital’s neurologist, I sat down with Dr. Sclafani to go over the results of the CT venogram that had been done this past summer. The good doctor carefully examined dozens of the images contained in the scan, explaining what he saw in each one to Karen and me.

Since my diagnosis, I've met with some of the most renowned doctors in the land, but have encountered few as empathetic and considerate as Dr. Sclafani. Rather than being talked to, I felt I was being talked with, and Dr. Sclafani responded to all of my concerns and unhesitatingly voiced a few of his own. He was scheduled to go to the Hamilton CCSVI symposium about a week after my appointment with him, and we decided to put off making any treatment decisions until after he attended the symposium and had a chance to consult with the assembled doctors.

Our consultation lasted far longer than had been anticipated, and the doctor’s staff thoughtfully had a car service waiting to take my wife and I home when it ended. Dr. Sclafani personally saw my wife and me out of the facility, then helped me into the car. Other than my primary neurologist, Dr. Saud Sadiq, who is also quite exceptional, I don't know many other doctors who would exhibit such down to earth humanity.

After the Hamilton symposium, Dr. Sclafani contacted me and told me he thought we should move forward with the venogram. His assistant Holly attentively handled all the arrangements, and this past Thursday I went back to Kings County for pre-op testing. Thus far, every step of this process has been handled in a professional, timely, and even (gasp!) cheerful manner. Hopefully, the actual procedure will go just as smoothly...

If I were recently diagnosed, or my symptom profile was more mild, I think I'd wait to see what the coming wave of CCSVI research reveals before undergoing this procedure. The speed with which my disease is progressing, though, makes it not too hard to envision the Wheelchair Kamikaze becoming the Mattress Kamikaze in the foreseeable future, and I'm determined to do everything I possibly can to cut that eventuality off at the knees. Upon my diagnosis, just about seven years ago, I vowed that if this son of a bitch was going to take me down, it was going to take me down fighting, all guns blazing, both fists bloodied, and with bite marks firmly implanted in its skull. This is war, and surrender is not an option.

For those interested in contacting Dr. Sclafani, please e-mail his assistant Holly Barr (ccsviliberation@gmail.com).

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Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Buffalo CCSVI Study Results Revealed; A Significant Step on the Journey Towards a Cure?

Gray

Image by kairin via Flickr

After months of anticipation by the worldwide MS community, the results of the University at Buffalo's CCSVI imaging study were disclosed today (click here for report). While they may not be quite as dramatic as some patients had hoped, the results do show an unambiguous link between the vascular abnormalities known as CCSVI and Multiple Sclerosis. (For those readers unfamiliar with CCSVI, click here)

The Buffalo study of 500 subjects showed that 56.4% of the MS patients imaged suffered from a narrowing of their extracranial veins (CCSVI), while 22.4% of healthy test subjects also exhibited such narrowing. This contrasts markedly with the over 95% to 100% correlation found in the smaller unblinded studies previously reported on by the founder of the CCSVI theory, Dr. Paolo Zamboni, who also found no evidence of such abnormalities in healthy control subjects. There were several additional small studies done elsewhere that also had reported a CCSVI-MS correlation of over 90%.

All participants in the Buffalo study underwent ultrasound (Doppler) scans of the head and neck, with some also being imaged with MR venograms. Of the subjects studied, 10.2% were borderline for CCSVI, which allows for some variance in the interpretation of the final numbers.

Upon first look, the much lower correlation between MS and CCSVI shown in the Buffalo study when compared to previous studies may seem disappointing, but in my opinion the less dramatic numbers may actually give the CCSVI theory greater scientific credibility.

MS is an extremely heterogeneous disease, meaning that the symptoms and clinical presentations exhibited can vary widely from patient to patient. This has led some researchers to conjecture that what we now call Multiple Sclerosis may in fact be a collection of different maladies that share common symptoms and markers. This could explain the wide variance in effectiveness seen in the current arsenal of MS treatments.

Furthermore, the diagnosis of MS is an inexact science, and in any large population of MS patients, as many as 10% to 15% could be misdiagnosed. The list of diseases that can be mistaken for MS is quite extensive, and some can be almost indistinguishable from Multiple Sclerosis. For a must read, comprehensive discussion of the many diseases that can be misdiagnosed as MS, click here.

Given the tremendous variance seen in MS patients, and the high level of misdiagnosis, the chances of finding any single trait common in upwards of 95% of MS patients is very unlikely. In fact, I participated in a "Natural History of MS" study at the National Institutes of Health, conducted specifically to identify clinically definite MS patients for use in future NIH studies, precisely because the institution was finding that the high percentage of misdiagnosed patients were skewing the results of the MS studies they were undertaking.

Moreover, unlike the anatomy of arteries associated with the CNS, which is well-known and displays uniformity from patient to patient, the CNS venous system is much less understood. Venous anatomy can differ markedly from patient to patient, making it difficult to define exactly what "normal" looks like.

For these reasons, the initial claims of an almost universal correlation between MS and CCSVI raised red flags for researchers when first presented with the CCSVI theory of MS. While these claims sparked tremendous fires of hope in community of MS patients around the world, they simultaneously cast doubt on the validity of the theory among many serious medical investigators.

The trial results released today by the University at Buffalo fall more in line with what would be expected of an MS breakthrough given science's current body of knowledge regarding the disease. While not the eye-popping numbers reported in the previous studies, the 2:1 ratio of CCSVI found in MS patients when compared to healthy subjects is still dramatic and exciting, and should give curious researchers much reason for continued and vigorous investigation of the theory.

If these early trial results findings hold up, the fact that over 50% of MS patients appear to display signs of a striking vascular abnormality raises a host of intriguing questions. Is the abnormality itself directly responsible for the neurologic symptoms and the damage being experienced by these patients, or does it work in concert with other factors to injure the CNS? Conversely, does the mechanism that is wreaking havoc on a patient's CNS also do damage to their vascular system? How does CCSVI fit with other mysteries associated with MS, such as the existence of "MS clusters", and the geographic distribution of MS? How does CCSVI relate to the signs of autoimmunity that are displayed even in MS patients with CCSVI, and what do we make of those patients who don't display signs of CCSVI? Are they suffering from a completely different disease, and is CCSVI simply a component in a much more complex totality?

Furthermore, we can't discount the anecdotal reports of the dozens of MS patients that have already undergone surgery to correct CCSVI, the majority of whom have reported notable improvements in their disease states. The patients who underwent Dr. Zamboni's Liberation Procedure, a type of balloon angioplasty, showed a significant decrease in relapse rates and a general overall improvement in their health status. The same can be said for the majority of patients treated by Dr. Michael Dake at Stanford University, and Dr. Marian Simka in Poland. While anecdotal reports are subjective rather than objective, and therefore not typically suitable for scientific scrutiny, they certainly can't be dismissed offhand, either.

Over the coming months, much intense research will be underway attempting to answer the many questions surrounding CCSVI. This report out of the University of Buffalo is only the first of many to come, and it would be a mistake to draw anything but preliminary conclusions from it. That said, CCSVI continues to intrigue and tantalize us with the possibility that it could reshape our fundamental understanding of Multiple Sclerosis. Unfortunately, patience will be necessary as we wait for further research results, and patience is a commodity in very short supply among people suffering from progressive, debilitating disease.

I urge all MS patients, and those who love them, to continue advocating strongly for further research into CCSVI, and to reach out to healthcare providers and let it be known that the status quo is unacceptable. Research into CCSVI and other "outside the box" theories must be dynamically pursued. Fixation on the autoimmune theory has yielded imperfect treatments but no cures, and in the unlikely event that CCSVI turns out to be nothing but a promising dead end, the time and effort spent researching it may yet yield discoveries that could finally unlock the mystery of MS. We must make our voices heard, and fight as if our lives depend on it. The excitement over CCSVI reveals the widespread discontent with current MS treatment strategies. We must channel that discontent into a force that will not be denied.

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