Dena S. Davis
The Hastings Center
Originally published 11 June 21
Here is an excerpt:
First, it is not at all clear that the drug works, in terms of affecting cognition and slowing decline. As Jason Karlawish explains in an incisive piece in STAT, crucial scientific steps were missed, and the current data are inconclusive and contradictory.
Side effects include possible brain swelling and bleeds (which appear to be severe in about 6% of patients), headache, falls, diarrhea, and what Biogen describes as “confusion/delirium/altered mental status/disorientation.” Wait a minute! I thought the reason to take this drug was that one already had altered mental status and confusion.
Before someone is even considered eligible for aducanumab, they must take a PET scan to ascertain that they have elevated levels of amyloid and then an MRI to make sure they don’t already have brain swelling. MRIs have to be repeated regularly while people are on the drug. I know perfectly competent adults who are freaked out by MRI’s. How do you explain this to someone with dementia? Or do you sedate them, thus adding to the risk? Furthermore, the drug itself is not a pill, but a monthly infusion.
Put that all together, and it just doesn’t add up. How would my mother’s life change for the better? There is little evidence of the drug’s efficacy. Meanwhile, her peaceful life in her rural home with her dedicated caregiver would now be punctuated by trips to the hospital for MRI’s, and monthly struggles to start infusions in her 90-year-old body, with its tiny veins and paper-thin skin. Aducanumab is apparently best suited to people in the early stages of Alzheimer’s, but even in the earliest stage my mother refused to accept that she had a problem. I cannot imagine successfully explaining that we were taking these measures in the faint hope of combatting a problem she insisted she didn’t have. And in the absence of an explanation she could understand, surely the frequent hospital trips would feel to her like unpleasant, even scary, invasions.