Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Frozen Poo Pill a Possible Cure to Clostridium difficile Infections

First used in the 1950s, the fecal transplant has steadily gained street-cred since its introduction as a potential cure to the fierce bacterial infection caused by Clostridium difficile.

C. difficile is a gastrointestinal illness that causes around 14,000 deaths in the US every year.

A team at Massachusetts General Hospital recently published a study in JAMA highlighting a new method of storage for fecal transplants, essentially turning them into a frozen pill that can last for up to 250 days.

The basic idea of a fecal transplant is this: Healthy feces contain a mix of good bacteria that, when reintroduced back into the body, reequips the intestine to fight the C. difficile infection and allow the gut to function properly.

In the past, fecal transplant administration seemed like a fairly uncomfortable procedure — invasive at one of two ends. To get the necessary bacteria into the gut, patients could endure either a tube that went into their nose and down to their digestive tract, or an enema. Now, researchers at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston have encapsulated the essential fecal material and tested this “poo pill” in a small study of 20 people.

The 20 patients ranged in age from 11 to 89 years old and each had suffered repeated cases of C. Difficile infection. Over the course of two days, each patient ingested 30 frozen capsules, 15 each day, and in 14 out of 20 patients, the infection was eliminated. In the remaining patients, the infection went away after a second round of 30 pills.

But the purpose of the pill wasn’t just to ease treatment protocol. It also allowed researchers to test ways to store the treatment for convenient use in the future. They found that freezing the pill to give to later patients was a viable option, making fecal transplants a simpler and safer medical tool.

Now, researchers are working towards a larger study with the frozen poo pills and hope to replicate the success they saw in the preliminary 20 patients.

An edible bacterial transplant is still unappetizing, but benefits seem to vastly outweigh the gross-factor. I just don’t, for the life of me, understand why they chose to store the fecal material in clear capsules. It looks exactly like how it sounds—like a frozen poo pill.


Sex-Geckos Sent to Space for Experiment

Of all the things I think about, my ability to reproduce in zero gravity ranks somewhere between “There’s a very small chance I’ve thought of this,” and “What.” But fortunately for me, and the rest of humanity that doesn’t actively contemplate space sex, a team of Russian scientists have wondered for us.

Actually, “wonder” is a bit of an understatement. These scientists rocketed five geckos (one male and four females) into space on a satellite called Foton-M4 with the intention of monitoring “the effect of microgravity on sexual behavior.” In other words, they wanted to see if geckos could do it mid-float in space. I like to think that as the Russian scientists waved the geckos goodbye, they said “Do it for science.”

This wasn’t just a can-they-do-it-in-space mission, though. The geckos had company aboard Foton-M4. It hosted a multitude of life-in-space experiments, with subjects ranging from fruit flies to fungus to microbes.

But why, Russia?

For the benefit of our great, great, great grandchildren’s great, great, great grandchildren. They wanted to test the waters of space life and specifically, the possibility of procreation for future humans—naturally, they thought to extrapolate from geckos.

To be fair, they didn’t just fling lusty geckos into orbit on any old satellite; they flung lusty geckos into orbit in a satellite that had, what they hoped, was sure-fire sex appeal.

In the experiment, Gecko-F4, the very first objective was to “create the conditions for sexual behavior.” How do you set the mood for gecko sex? Only science knows. In their efforts to witness the moments of facilitated gecko intimacy, they installed cameras. But I’m sad to say, these professional scientists didn’t get to sit around and watch until something naughty happened, because shortly after the initial launch, the signal was lost.

After a stressful three days, Russia’s space agency regained a connection with Foton-M4 on July 28th. Side note: I turned 22 that day — best birthday present ever. But much to my dismay, one month later the satellite came prematurely crashing back to earth, and when researchers inspected the satellite, they found all five love geckos dead. Scientists suspect that part of the heater in the satellite broke and the poor critters froze to death. No one knows if they ever got it on.

Scientists on the experiment tried to console the public by shifting attention to the fruit flies that were also aboard Foton-M4 — they survived and procreated. I’m sure many people took solace in that.

It’s funny to see what types of news gain traction. This topic—gecko sex in space—took a firm hold of the public internationally; NPR, CNN, NBC, The Guardian, The BBC; they all covered it. It was all over the place and there were actual feelings involved. I even read an article that compared Gecko-F4 to the Apollo 13 mission. And I agree, they’re very similar. Except in Apollo 13 a brave group of astronauts overcame tremendous obstacles and returned safely to earth, and in Gecko-F4, Russians shot sex-lizards into space, lost them, and they died.