If you’re in New York City in the next few months, pop into the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) and stop by the “This Is For Everyone: Design For The Common Good” exhibit. There—alongside displays dedicated to the “@” symbol, the pin icon from Google Maps and bricks made from living mushroom roots—you’ll find three small silicone blocks mounted on a wall panel.
Earlier this month, MoMA announced its plans to include the chips as part of their exploration of contemporary design in the digital age. In the museum’s eyes, organs-on-chips are more than a way to model disease in a complex, living system—they’re also art.
Tools like CRISPR could give us the power to alter humanity’s genetic future. A group of senior American scientists and ethicists have called for a moratorium any attempts to create genetically engineered children using these technologies until there can be a robust debate.
There’s been a lot of speculation about whether low vaccination rates are feeding the 2015 U.S. measles outbreak, which as I write this stands at 145 cases across seven states. Well, we can stop speculating, because the numbers are in, and measles is taking advantage of pockets of inadequately vaccinated people.
Our genes can mutate at any point in our lives. In rare cases, a mutation randomly occurs in a single cell of an embryo and gets carried forward only in the descendants of that particular cell, leaving its mark in some tissues, but not in others. This pattern of mutation, called somatic mosaicsm, can have complicated consequences down the road.
But like nature, business abhors a vacuum, and longs to fill it. Many companies and institutions have already jumped into the LDT ring, offering up genomic or pharmacologic services that they say would help guide patients’ and doctors’ treatment decisions and improve outcomes. Especially for patients with cancer.
How solid is the science behind these claims? And do vendors do a good job disclosing the strengths and weaknesses of personalized medicine? Those questions form the core of a study published this week in the Journal of the National Cancer Institute.
Historically, the starting point for making a rare disease diagnosis is the patient’s clinical profile: the set of symptoms and features that together define Diamond Blackfan anemia (DBA), Niemann-Pick disease or any of a thousand other conditions.
For example, anemia and problems absorbing nutrients are features of Pearson marrow pancreas syndrome (PS), whereas oddly shaped fingernails, lacy patterns on the skin and a proneness to cancer point to dyskeratosis congenita (DC).
The resulting diagnoses give the child and family an entry point into a disease community, and is their anchor for understanding what’s happening to them and others: “Yes, my child has that and here’s how it affects her. Does it affect your child this way too?”
But as researchers probe the relationships between genes and their outward expression—between genotype and phenotype—some families are losing that anchor. They may discover that their child doesn’t actually have condition A; rather, genetically they actually have condition B. Or it may be that no diagnosis matches their genetic findings.
What does that mean for patients’ care, and for their sense of who they are?
Millions of people worldwide suffer from co-infection with tuberculosis (TB) and HIV. While prompt antibiotic and antiretroviral treatment can be a recipe for survival, over the years, physicians have noticed something: two or three weeks after starting antiretrovirals, about 30 percent of co-infected patients get worse.
The reason: immune reconstitution inflammatory syndrome, or IRIS. Doctors think it represents a kind of immune rebound. As the antiretrovirals start to work, and the patient’s immune system begins to recover from HIV, it notices TB’s presence and overreacts.
“It’s as though the immune system was blanketed and then unleashed,” says Luke Jasenosky, PhD, a postdoctoral fellow with Anne Goldfeld, MD, of Boston Children’s Hospital’s Program in Cellular and Molecular Medicine. “It then says, ‘I can start to see things again, and there are a lot of bacteria in here.'”
Though potentially severe, even fatal, IRIS may actually be a good sign: there is evidence that patients who develop it tend to fare better in the long run. But why does it arise only in some patients?
Vector’s picks of recent pediatric healthcare, science and innovation news.
Encryption wouldn’t have stopped Anthem’s data breach(MIT Technology Review) Hackers got their hands on the personal information and Social Security numbers of 80 million people when they broke into the network of health insurer Anthem health. But encryption alone wouldn’t have been enough to keep those data safe.
Life teems with interactions. Proteins bind. Bonds form between atoms, and break. Enzymes cut. Drugs attach to cell receptors. DNA hybridizes. Those interactions make the processes of life work, and capturing them has led to many medical advances.
Technologies abound for studying molecular-level interactions quantitatively. But most are complex and expensive, requiring dedicated instruments and specific training on how to prep samples and run the experiments.
Wong and his team, including graduate student Mounir Koussa and postdoctoral fellows Ken Halvorsen, PhD (now at the RNA Institute) and Andrew Ward, PhD, have created an alternative method that democratizes the process. Using electrophoresis gels, found in just about any biomedical laboratory, they’ve developed what they call DNA nanoswitches. These switches let researchers make interaction measurements without complex instruments, at a cost of pennies per sample.
Not all cancer cells are created equal. In fact, to call a cancer a cancer, in the singular, is something of a misnomer. Really, a patient could be said to have cancers, as every tumor is actually a mixture of cells with different mutations and capabilities.
One of those capabilities is the ability to escape the main tumor and spread, or metastasize, to other sites in the body. Not every cancer cell has this ability. But just like bacteria can share the ability to resist antibiotics, at least some cancer cells may be able to share the ability to spread.
According to a study by Judy Lieberman, MD, PhD, of Boston Children’s Hospital’s Program in Cellular and Molecular Medicine, breast cancer cells that can metastasize can tell those that can’t to turn that ability on. That conversation takes place via small pieces of RNA called microRNAs, delivered in microscopic packages called extracellular vesicles.
According to Lieberman, not only do her team’s data give insight into the metastatic process, they might also reveal the first example of cancer cells teaching each other.