Is There a Role for Maintenance Therapy in Cancer Treatment?

There is a long tradition of maintenance therapy in pediatric oncology. Children with acute lymphoblastic leukemia uniformly receive three stages of therapy: induction, consolidation, and finally maintenance. The maintenance stage consists of weekly, or even daily therapies.

The historical experiences of relapse in this population lead investigators to consistently expose these patients to drugs for a period of years. Despite the apparent success of this approach in childhood cancers, long-term maintenance therapy did not gain popularity in adult oncology. Why?

There are probably several reasons. One reason is that childhood leukemia is among the most chemo-responsive diseases in medicine. As such, there are many active drugs available for treatment and many non-cross-resistant maintenance schedules that can be employed.

A second reason is the relative tolerability of drugs like oral thioguanine or mercaptopurine that are used in chronic maintenance therapy. By contrast adult tumors rarely achieve complete remissions. The number of active drugs has historically been very limited and the tolerance of long-term treatments characteristically poor.

Despite this, there is an appealing rational for maintenance therapy. Once we recognized and incorporated the tenents of apoptosis and programmed cell death into cancer management, we were forced to reconsider many of the principles of older treatment protocols.

Conceptually, maintenance allows for a cytotoxic exposure when the cell enters a “chemosensitive” period in its life cycle.  Cancer cells that are “out surviving” their normal counterparts often do so in a quiescent stage (G0 Gx). In order to capture these cells, drugs must be present in the body when these cells awaken from their dormancy. As we have now achieved increasingly durable remissions in diseases like breast cancer, small cell lung and ovarian, we are confronting patients in long-term complete remission. When you add to this newfound population the availability of comparably mild agents, like the low dose Gemcitabine/Cisplatin doublet, we now have at our disposal active drugs that can be safely continued for long periods of time.

Using laboratory selection to identify first line (induction), second line (consolidation) and finally third line (maintenance) schedules, we can now offer our patients well-tolerated combinations that offer the hope of more durable remissions.

The GOG 178, in which continued taxol dosing provided more durable remission in ovarian cancer, provided the first inklings of this. Unfortunately, taxol is toxic. And the more durable remissions came at an increasingly high price: neuropathy, myelosuppression, alopecia, fatigue and malaise, which greatly limited the utility of this approach. Yet it does not limit its theoretical attractiveness as we continue to develop targeted agents with more selective activity and modified toxicity profiles. We anticipate maintenance therapies will become more widespread.

Based upon our experiences to date, we are successfully using this approach with our patients who achieve good clinical remissions.

You can find more information about our use of maintenance therapy, in Chapter 14 of the book Outliving Cancer.

This blog was originally posted in August 2011.

Chemosensitivity Testing Captures Attention of “Nature Biotechnology”

An interesting editorial appeared in the February 2013 issue of Nature Biotechnology titled “Dishing out cancer treatment.” The lead line reads, “Despite their limitations, in-vitro assays are a simple means for assessing the drug sensitivity of a patient’s cancer . . . we think assays deserve a second look.”

The author describes the unequivocal appeal of laboratory analyses that are capable of selecting drugs and combinations for individual patients. At a time when 100’s of new drugs are in development, drug discovery platforms that can mimic human tumor response in the laboratory are becoming increasingly attractive to patients and the pharmaceutical industry. While the author, rooted in contemporary molecular biology, examines the field through the lens of genomic, transcriptomic, proteomic and metabolomic profiling, he recognizes that these analyte-based approaches cannot capture the tumor in its microenvironment, yet we now recognize that these micro-environmental influences are critical to accurate response prediction.

As one reads this piece, it is instructive to remember that no other platform can examine the dynamic interaction between cells and their microenvironment. No other platform can examine drug synergy. And no other platform can examine drug sequence.

It is these complexities however, that will guide the next generation of drug tests and ultimately the process of drug discovery. Even the most ardent adherents to genomic profiling must ultimately recognize that genotype does not equal phenotype. Yet, it is the tumor phenotype that we must study.

I am gratified that the editors of so august a journal as Nature Biotechnology have taken the time to reexamine this important field. Perhaps, if our most scientific colleagues are beginning to recognize the importance of functional analyses, it may be only a matter of time before the clinical oncology community follows suit.

The editor’s final line is poignant, “After years spent on the sidelines, perhaps in-vitro screening methods deserve another look.” We couldn’t agree more.

Why Oncologists Don’t Like In Vitro Chemosensitivity Tests

In human experience, the level of disappointment is directly proportional to the level of expectation. When, for example, the world was apprised of the successful development of cold fusion, a breakthrough of historic proportions, the expectations could not have been greater. Cold fusion, the capacity to harness the sun’s power without the heat and radiation, was so appealing that people rushed into a field about which they understood little. Those who remember this episode during the 1990s will recall the shock and dismay of the scientists and investors who rushed to sponsor and support this venture only to be left out in the cold when the data came in.

Since the earliest introduction of chemotherapy, the ability to select active treatments before having to administer them to patients has been the holy grail of oncologic investigation. During the 1950s and 60s, chemotherapy treatments were punishing. Drugs like nitrogen mustard were administered without the benefit of modern anti-emetics and cancer patients suffered every minute. The nausea was extreme, the bone marrow suppression dramatic and the benefits – marginal at best. With the introduction of cisplatin in the pre Zofran/Kytril era, patients experienced a heretofore unimaginable level of nausea and vomiting. Each passing day medical oncologists wondered why they couldn’t use the same techniques that had proven so useful in microbiology (bacterial culture and sensitivity) to select chemotherapy.

And then it happened. In June of 1978, the New England Journal of Medicine (NEJM) published a study involving a small series of patients whose tumors responded to drugs selected by in vitro (laboratory) chemosensitivity. Eureka! Everyone, everywhere wanted to do clonogenic (human tumor stem cell) assays. Scientists traveled to Tucson to learn the methodology. Commercial laboratories were established to offer the service. It was a new era of cancer medicine. Finally, cancer patients could benefit from effective drugs and avoid ineffective ones. At least, it appeared that way in 1978.

Five years later, the NEJM published an update of more than 8,000 patients who had been studied by clonogenic assay. It seemed that with all the hype and hoopla, this teeny, tiny little detail had been overlooked: the clonogenic assay didn’t work. Like air rushing out of a punctured tire, the field collapsed on itself. No one ever wanted to hear about using human tumor cancer cells to predict response to chemotherapy – not ever!

In the midst of this, a seminal paper was published in the British Journal of Cancer in 1972 that described the phenomenon of apoptosis, a form of programmed cell death.  All at once it became evident exactly why the clonogenic assay didn’t work. By re-examining the basic tenets of cancer chemosensitivity testing, a new generation of assays were developed that used drug induced programmed cell death, not growth inhibition. Cancer didn’t grow too much, it died too little. And these tests proved it.

Immediately, the predictive validity improved. Every time the assays were put to the test, they met the challenge. From leukemia and lymphoma to lung, breast, ovarian, and even melanoma, cancer patients who received drugs found active in the test tube did better than cancer patients who received drugs that looked inactive. Eureka! A new era of cancer therapy was born. Or so it seemed.

I was one of those naive investigators who believed that because these tests worked, they would be embraced by the oncology community. I presented my first observations in the 1980s, using the test to develop a curative therapy for a rare form of leukemia. Then we used this laboratory platform to pioneer drug combinations that, today, are used all over the world. We brought the work to the national cooperative groups, conducted studies and published the observations. It didn’t matter. Because the clonogenic assay hadn’t worked, regardless of its evident deficiencies, no one wanted to talk about the field ever again.

In 1600, Giordano Bruno was burned at the stake for suggesting that the universe contained other planetary systems. In 1634, Galileo Galilei was excommunicated for promoting the heliocentric model of the solar system. Centuries later, Ignaz Semmelweis, MD, was committed to an insane asylum after he (correctly) suggested that puerperal sepsis was caused by bacterial contamination. A century later, the discoverers of helicobacter (the cause of peptic ulcer disease) were forced to suffer the slings and arrows of ignoble academic fortune until they were vindicated through the efforts of a small coterie of enlightened colleagues.

Innovations are not suffered lightly by those who prosper under established norms. To disrupt the standard of care is to invite the wrath of academia. The 2004 Technology Assessment published by Blue Cross/Blue Shield and ASCO in the Journal of Oncology and ASCO’s update seven years later, reflect little more than an established paradigm attempting to escape irrelevance.

Cancer chemosensitivity tests work exactly according to their well-established performance characteristics of sensitivity and specificity. They consistently provide superior response and, in many cases, time to progression and even survival. They can improve outcomes, reduce costs, accelerate research and eliminate futile care. If the academic community is so intent to put these assays to the test, then why have they repeatedly failed to support the innumerable efforts that our colleagues have made over the past two decades to fairly evaluate them in prospective randomized trials? It is time for patients to ask exactly why it is that their physicians do not use them and to demand that these physicians provide data, not hearsay, to support their arguments.

Do We Already Have the Tools We Need to Cure Cancer?

The rapid-fire sequence of the annual American Association of Cancer Research (AACR) meeting, held in May, followed by the annual American Society of Cllinical Oncology (ASCO) meeting, held in June, provides the opportunity to put scientific discoveries into perspective as they find their way from theoretical to practical.

Members of AACR, the basic science organization, ponder deep biological questions. Their spin-offs arrive in the hands of members of ASCO as Phase I and Phase II trials, some of which are then reported at ASCO meetings.

Many of the small molecules my laboratory has studied over the years are now slowly making their way from “Gee Whiz” to clinical therapy. At the ASCO meeting I attended many of the Phase I sessions, where alphabet soup compounds had their first “in-human” trials. As most of these compounds are familiar to me, I was very interested in these early, though highly preliminary, results.

Departing from one Developmental Therapy (Phase I) session, with visions of signal transduction pathways in my head, I attended a poster discussion on triple negative breast cancer. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, it refers to an increasingly common form of breast cancer that doesn’t mark for the usual estrogen, progesterone, or HER-2 features. Often occurring in younger patients, this form of breast cancer can be aggressive and unresponsive to some forms of therapy. Much work has gone into defining sub-types of this disease and slow progress is being made.

As I examined the posters, one caught my eye, “Clinical Characteristics and Chemotherapy Options of Triple Negative Breast Cancer: Role of Classic CMF regimen. (Herr, MH et al, abstract #1053, ASCO 2012.) What these investigators showed in a series of 826 breast cancer patients was that those treated with the oldest drug combination for breast cancer (CMF) did better than those who received the more modern and more intensive anthracycline or taxane-based regimens. CMF, originally developed by Italian investigators in the 1970s, was the principal therapy for this disease for two decades before it was replaced, first by anthracycline and later by taxane-based treatments. What struck me was the unexpected superiority of this old regimen over its more modern, toxic and expensive brethren.

I began to wonder about other modern therapies and their real impact upon cancer outcomes. One study in HER-2 positive patients revealed relative equivalency between weekly taxol, every three-week Taxotere and Abraxane-based therapy. Once again, the cheaper, older, less toxic Taxol regimen proved superior. While most of the attendees at the ASCO meeting were considering how the newest VEGF inhibitor Regorafenib, or the addition of aflibercept, might impact their practices, I was somewhat underwhelmed by the results of these statistically significant, but clinically marginal survival advantages, all associated with great expense.

As I pondered the implications of the CMF results in triple negatives and those of the taxol results in HER-2 positives, I considered other old-fashioned therapies with newfound potential. Among them, losartan, the angiotensin antagonist that influences tumor stroma or the results of an earlier published study that identified intraconazole (a widely available anti-fungal therapy), as an inhibitor of the hedgehog pathway. While the pharmaceutical industry promotes the use of vismodegib, a hedgehog inhibitor for basal cell skin cancer, and dozens of trials examine VEGF and FGF inhibitors, I wondered whether losartan or intraconazole or other simple compounds and combinations might not already provide many of the tools we need. Is it possible that effective treatments for cancer are at hand?

Lacking the tools to decipher the signals and combine the agents to greatest effect, are we destined to continue to blindly administer increasingly expensive, toxic, yet arguably no more effective therapies? With the myriad of drugs and combinations available today, might it be that we “can’t see the forest for the trees.”

Chemosensitivity Testing – What It Is and What It Isn’t

Several weeks ago I was consulted by a young man regarding the management of his heavily pre-treated, widely metastatic rectal carcinoma. Upon review of his records, it was evident that under the care of both community and academic oncologists he had already received most of the active drugs for his diagnosis. Although his liver involvement could easily provide tissue for analysis, I discouraged his pursuit of an assay. Despite this, he and his wife continued to pursue the option.

As I sat across from the patient, with his complicated treatment history in hand, I was forced to admit that he looked the picture of health. Wearing a pork pie hat rakishly tilted over his forehead, I could see few outward signs of the disease that ravaged his body. After a lengthy give and take, I offered to submit his CT scans to our gastrointestinal surgeon for his opinion on the ease with which a biopsy could be obtained. I then dropped a note to the patient’s local oncologist, an accomplished physician who I respected and admired for his practicality and patient advocacy.

A week later, I received a call from the patient’s physician. Though cordial, he was puzzled by my willingness to pursue a biopsy on this heavily treated individual. I explained to him that I was actually not highly motivated to pursue this biopsy, but instead had responded to the patient’s urging me to consider the option. I agreed with the physician that the conventional therapy options were limited but noted that several available drugs might yet have a role in his management including signal transduction inhibitors.

I further explained that some patients develop a process of collateral sensitivity, whereby resistance to one class of drugs (platins, for example) can enhance the efficacy of other class of drugs (such as, antimetabolite) Furthermore, patients may fail a drug, then be treated with several other classes of agents, only then a year of two later, manifest sensitivity to the original drug.

Our conversation then took a surprising turn. First, he told me of his attendance at a dinner meeting, some 25 years earlier, where Dan Von Hoff, MD, had described his experiences with the clonogenic assay. He went on to tell me how that technique had been proven unsuccessful finding a very limited role in the elimination of “inactive” drugs with no capacity to identify “active “drugs. He finished by explaining that these shortcomings were the reason why our studies would be unlikely to provide useful information.

I found myself grasping for a handle on the moment. Here was a colleague, and collaborator, who had heard me speak on the topic a dozen times. I had personally intervened and identified active treatments for several of his patients, treatments that he would have never considered without me. He had invited me to speak at his medical center and spoke glowingly of my skills. And yet, he had no real understanding of what I do. It made me pause and wonder whether the patients and physicians with whom I interact on a daily basis understand the principles of our work. For clarity, in particular for those who may be new to my work, I provide a brief overview.

1.    Cancer patients are highly individual in their response to chemotherapies. This is why each patient must be tested to select the most effective drug regimen.

2.    Today we realize that cancer doesn’t grow too much it dies too little. This is why older growth-based assays didn’t work and why cell-death-based assays do.

3.    Cancer must be tested in their native state with the stromal, vascular and inflammatory elements intact. This is why we use microspheroids isolated directly from patients and do not grow or subculture our specimens.

4.    Predictions of response are not based on arbitrary drug concentrations but instead reflect the careful calibration of in vitro findings against patient outcomes – the all-important clinical database.

5.    We do not conduct drug resistance assays. We conduct drug sensitivity assays. These drug sensitivity assays have been shown statistically significantly to correlate with response, time to progression and survival.

6.    We do not conduct genomic analyses for there are no genomic platforms available today that are capable of reproducing the complexity, cross-talk, redundancy or promiscuity of human tumor biology.

7.    Tumors manifest plasticity that requires iterative studies. Large biopsies and sometimes multiple biopsies must be done to construct effective treatment programs.

8.    With chemotherapy, very often more is not better.

9.    New drugs are not always better drugs.

10.   And finally, cancer drugs do not know what diseases they were invented for.
While we could continue to enumerate the principles that guide our practice, one of the more important principles is humility. Medicine is a humbling experience and cancer medicine even more so. Patients often know more than their doctors give them credit for. Failing to incorporate a patient’s input, experience and wishes into the treatment programs that we design, limits our capacity to provide them the best outcome.

With regard to my colleague who seemed so utterly unfamiliar with these concepts, indeed for a large swath of the oncologic community as a whole, I am reminded of the saying “There’s none so blind as those who will not see.”

The Unfulfilled Promise of Genomic Analysis

In the March 8 issue of the New England Journal of Medicine, investigators from London, England, reported disturbing news regarding the predictive validity and clinical applicability of human tumor genomic analysis for the selection of chemotherapeutic agents.

As part of an ongoing clinical trial in patients with metastatic renal cell carcinoma (the E-PREDICT) these investigators had the opportunity to conduct biopsies upon metastatic lesions and then compare their genomic profiles with those of the primary tumors. Their findings are highly instructive, though not terribly unexpected. Using exon-capture they identified numerous mutations, insertions and deletions. Sanger sequencing was used to validate mutations. When they compared biopsy specimens taken from the kidney they found significant heterogeneity from one region to the next.

Similar degrees of heterogeneity were observed when they compared these primary lesions with the metastatic sites of spread. The investigators inferred a branched evolution where tumors evolved into clones, some spreading to distant sites, while others manifested different features within the primary tumor themselves. Interestingly, when primary sites were matched with metastases that arose from that site, there was greater consanguinity between the primary and met than between one primary site and another primary site in the same kidney. Another way of looking at this is that your grandchildren look more like you, than your neighbor.

Tracking additional mutations, these investigators found unexpected changes that involved histone methyltransferase, histone d-methyltransferase and the phosphatase and tensin homolog (PTEN). These findings were perhaps among the most interesting of the entire paper for they support the principal of phenotypic convergence, whereby similar genomic changes arise by Darwinian selection. This, despite the observed phenotypes arising from precursors with different genomic heritages. This fundamental observation suggests that cancers do not arise from genetic mutation, but instead select advantageous mutations for their survival and success.

The accompanying editorial by Dr. Dan Longo makes several points worth noting.  First he states that “DNA is not the whole story.” This should be familiar to those who follow my blogs, as I have said the same on many occasions.  In his discussion, Dr Longo then references Albert Einstein, who said “Things should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler.” Touché.

I appreciate and applaud Dr. Longo’s comments for they echo our sentiments completely. This article is only the most recent example of a growing litany of observations that call into question molecular biologist’s preternatural fixation on genomic analyses. Human biology is not simple and malignantly transformed cells more complex still. Investigators who insist upon using genomic platforms to force disorderly cells into artificially ordered sub-categories, have once again been forced to admit that these oversimplifications fail to provide the needed insights for the advancement of cancer therapeutics. Those laboratories and corporations that offer “high price” genomic analyses for the selection of chemotherapy drugs should read this and related articles carefully as these reports portend a troubling future for their current business model.

A Day at CHORI (Children’s Hospital of Oakland Research Institute)

As a hematology fellow at the Scripps Clinic in the 1980s, my friend and colleague Sheldon Hendler, MD, PHD, recommended that I read an article in Science magazine. The manuscript entitled “Cancer and Diet,” by Bruce Ames, PhD, described the mutagens and carcinogens to which we are exposed on a daily basis that are found in a normal diet. His paper then examined the defenses that we have developed as a species.

Dr. Ames has distinguished himself as a pioneer in the study of aging, degenerative disease and cancer and I have read many of his papers since then. You can imagine my delight when I received a phone call some months ago and found that my interlocutor was none other than Bruce Ames, inviting me to speak at his research institute.

On Tuesday, January 31, I traveled to Oakland to present a symposium. Dr. Ames arranged for me to meet many of his colleagues. The topics ranged from neuraminic acid residues expressed as neoantigens on dividing cancer cells, to antifungal agents as anti-cancer drugs. One discussion of particular interest surrounded sphingomyelin metabolism as an important mediator of tumor cell progression. A subject about which I knew little prior to this discussion but will certainly now examine with interest.

It is my hope that I might forge collaborations with some of these investigators. But, there is little that could have prepared me for the pleasure I experienced when sitting across the table from Dr. Ames, while sipping a freshly brewed espresso (deftly prepared by Dr. Ames himself), while we discussed Bruce’s six decades of extraordinary discoveries. Everywhere I looked was an award or a textbook that he had authored. Despite his many accomplishments he was humble, engaging and very witty.

My symposium that afternoon introduced the attendees to human tumor primary culture studies as predictors of response to cancer therapy. I then moved through the accumulated data supporting the clinical outcomes and finally examined our developmental work, finishing with our published collaboration with investigators at NYU and Cornell on the study of a novel class of Wnt inhibitors. Lively discussion ensued.

Among the attendees was Bengt Mannervik, who asked several good questions. I note his presence for he is one of the leading experts in the field of glutathione metabolism and a scientist who I had met several times before. As one of the fathers of glutathione s-transferase chemistry, Bengt’s work had influenced my earlier studies. It was an unexpected honor to have him in the audience, as a visiting professor on sabbatical from Uppsala.

As I have noted before, the reception from the scientists in these fora improves as they examine the data on its own merit, unaffected by the clinical dogma and politicking that contaminates so much discourse in medical oncology today. There was no agenda, just scientific interest and open discussion. It was a refreshing departure and a welcome opportunity to interact with open-minded investigators.

In the audience was Dr. Ames’ wife, Giovanna, a former professor of biochemistry at Berkeley, and a scientist whose work included the earliest discovery of the ABC transporters, now recognized as the basis for the human p-glycoprotein drug resistance mechanisms. At the end of the lecture, Giovanna Ames, impressed by the data, raised her hand and asked, “If what you need is a small portion of each patient’s tumor to conduct these studies, what do we have to do to be sure that every doctor sends you a piece of tumor?” While I’m not sure I that have the answer to her question, I am very sure that I like the way she thinks.

Looking Beyond the Academic Walls for Cancer Care

At the recent Society for Integrative Oncology meeting in Cleveland, Ohio, I had the opportunity as an invited lecturer, to sit in on many informative presentations. As I listened to these investigators, who have developed clinical therapy programs combining traditional chemotherapies with dietary, lifestyle and herbal remedies, I felt a sense of shared frustration. Here, after all, were dedicated therapists using available non-toxic interventions to improve outcomes, yet the major academic centers continue to turn a blind eye to their contributions. Instead they are required to meet stringent research criteria that those within conventional therapy might be unable to meet.

I then realized that cancer patients must step outside the confines of usual and customary referral patterns and treatment programs to obtain the best outcome for themselves. I was favorably impressed by the dedication of the many investigators and feel convinced that the application of natural products, supportive measures, dietary and lifestyle modifications, and the judicious use of chemotherapeutics will indeed lead the way to a better future in oncology.

As I often say to my patients, “No one is more interested in saving your life than you.”

Why Some Patients Refuse Chemotherapy – And Why Some of Them Shouldn’t

In the June 13, 2011, issue of Time magazine, Ruth Davis Konigsberg described cancer patients who refuse to take potentially lifesaving therapy. Her article, titled “The Refuseniks – why some cancer patients reject their doctor’s advice,” examined the rationale applied by patients who decline chemotherapy. Many of these patients are rational, articulate, intelligent and capable individuals. While there are those who by virtue of religious belief, underlying depression, or loss of loved ones, decline interventions, many of these patients make compelling arguments in favor of their decisions.

When we examine the basis of these patients’ therapeutic nihilism, much of it reflects the uncertainty of benefit combined with the certainty of toxicity. What these patients articulate is the fundamental dilemma confronted by cancer patients, what we might describe as their logical assessment of “return on investment.”

Everything in life is based on probabilities. Will your husband or wife be true? Will you have a boy or a girl? Will you live to see retirement? Will your nest egg be adequate? Cancer medicine is no different.

Will the treatment I’m being offered extend my life long enough to be worth the short- and medium-term toxicities that I will certainly suffer?

While I cannot address this question with regard to surgery or radiation, I feel uniquely qualified to do so in the context of chemotherapy. What, after all, is a chemosensitivity assay? When correctly performed, it is a laboratory test that dichotomizes groups of patients with average likelihoods of response (e.g. 20%, 30%, 40%, etc.) into those who are more or less likely to respond based on the results. On average, a patient found sensitive in vitro has a twofold improvement in response, while those found resistant have a demonstrably lower likelihood of benefit. We have now shown this to be true in breast, ovarian, and non-small cell lung cancers, as well as melanoma, childhood and adult leukemias, and other diseases.

To address the misgivings of the Refuseniks, we might ask the following question: Would you take a treatment that provided a 30 percent likelihood of benefit? How about a 40 percent? 50 percent? 60 percent? 70 percent? Or 80 percent? While many might decline the pleasure of chemotherapy at a 20-30 percent response rate, a much larger number would look favorably upon a 70 percent response rate. On the flipside, a patient offered a treatment with a 50 percent likelihood of benefit (on average), who by virtue of a lab study realizes that their true response rate is closer to 19 percent (based on resistance in vitro), might very logically (and defensibly) decline treatment. These real life examples reflect the established performance characteristics of our laboratory tests (Nagourney, RA. Ex vivo programmed cell death and the prediction of response to chemotherapy. Current Treatment Options in Oncology 2006, 7:103-110.).

Rather than bemoan the uncertainties of treatment outcome, shouldn’t we, as clinical oncologists, be addressing these patients’ very real misgivings with data and objective information? I, for one, believe so.

Ovarian Cancer National Alliance 2011

The July meeting of the OCNA included a lecture by John Hays, MD, from the National Cancer Institute (NCI), entitled “Decision time: what is the right choice of chemotherapeutic agent(s)? Dr. Hays, part of the molecular signaling section at the NCI, reviewed literature on the topic. He described the need for prospective clinical trials to validate retrospective and in vitro results.

He then examined data from three technologies, the Oncotech extreme drug resistance test, Precision Therapeutics ChemoFX test and the ATP-based chemosensitivity test.

I found it odd that Dr. Dr. Hays spent time examining the EDR technology of Oncotech in as much as it is no longer offered and reflects proliferation-based studies, which have since largely been discredited.

The ATP assay was reviewed using the results of a study published by Dr. Ian Cree in which 180 patients received either assay-directed (ATP) or physician choice. This study actually provided an improvement for patients who received the ATP-based treatment but failed to achieve significance. Thus, it failed largely because it was underpowered.

But this reflected a more concerning aspect of the study.  It seems that the “physician choice” arm increasingly applied the best drug regimens developed in Dr. Cree’s own laboratory. As the trial continued to accrue, an increasing proportion of patients received Gemcitabine-based doublets (which were very new at the time) based upon Dr. Cree’s observation of activity for these novel combinations. This had the uncomfortable effect of forcing Dr. Cree to compete with himself. Had Dr. Hays been truly interested in examining this study as I have, he might have noticed the good control group response rate partly reflected the application of Dr. Cree’s’ own observations.

Indeed, when during my many attempts to conduct a prospective study with the GOG, I was at the very last moment confronted with a study design similar to Dr. Cree’s, (e.g. they could incorporate any treatment they chose, including those that I developed), my statistician demanded that I forego the pleasure, as he could see only too well that the trial had become impossible to power. You see, there was no true control arm for statistical comparison.

The final portion of Dr. Hays’ presentation was the ChemoFX assay. This technology propagates tissue biopsies to confluence and then conducts measurement of drug-induced cell death. With substantial funding largely provided by venture capital, Precision Therapeutics has leapt into the GOG with a series of trials. Should this hybrid technology fail to provide prospective results that meet significance, it will be a damaging blow to this unfairly maligned area of investigation. While I wish the ChemoFX investigators luck, a failure on their part could be harmful to the field. Their reliance on propagated, sub-cultured tissues grown to monoculture has been a concern to me since they first arose in the last few years as participants in the field. We await the results of their trials with great anticipation.

What is interesting in Dr. Hays’ review is not so much what he said, but what he didn’t say.

First, he did not mention the seminal work of Dr. Larry Weisenthal, a pioneer in the field.

Second, he did not describe the nearly 2,000 retrospective, yet statistically significant correlations in the literature in a wide variety of diseases. He neglected to mention that one of the most widely used regimens for breast and ovarian cancer was developed using the same human tumor culture analyses that he decries. If he actually treats patients, he no doubt uses the cisplatin gemcitabine doublets developed using one of these platforms.

Finally, Dr. Hays has failed evidence-based medicine 101. He has forgotten that in life-threatening illnesses where prospective clinical trial data is not available, in accordance with the dictates of evidence-based medicine, one should use the best available data to guide treatments.

There is a wealth of data supporting laboratory based drug selection.  Presentations like that described do not add to the discourse.