Recently, I was discussing a new psychotropic agent with a colleague of
mine. She told me that she knew another psychiatrist who had a great deal
of experience with this compound. "She says that it only works about 30%
of the time," my colleague told me. "But when it works, it works like a
charm," she added.
While 30% is a disappointing response rate for any
medication, this conversation made me think about more global issues in
psychopharmacology. We have all had the experience of prescribing
medication for a set of symptoms and getting completely different
responses in different patients. Sometimes the medications work, and
sometimes they do not, for the same complaints. Why is this?
Probably the greatest cause for the differential response to the same
psychopharmacology is the lack of precision of psychiatric diagnosis. Our
Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) is
currently in a slight revision from its fourth version, and there is no
question that each new version and each revision of each version has
represented an improvement. It is important, however, to appreciate the
DSM for what it is and what it is not. In its most fundamental use, the
DSM allows us to talk to each other in such a way that we can be
reasonably sure that we are all talking about the same thing. As such,
when we talk about a specific disorder, such as paranoid schizophrenia or
recurrent major depressive disorder, we already have a mutually agreed
upon document that spells out relatively clearly exactly what those things
are. One of the quantitative ways that we can measure improvement in the
DSM is increasing amounts of interrater reliability. As the DSM improves,
if two of us see the same patient in the same period of time, we are
increasingly likely to make the same diagnosis.
The DSM is relatively scrupulous about avoiding statements about either
etiology or treatment. As such, it is a completely phenomenologic
document. It simply says what these disorders look like. It makes
virtually no statements about pathophysiology, underlying psychology, or
any kind of treatment recommendation. There is neither the data nor the
mandate to do this in any comprehensive way. It is considerably easier to
agree on diagnosis than to agree on etiology or treatment at the present
time. While there are documents that do address these issues, such as
textbooks and treatment guidelines, they are considerably more equivocal
and often controversial. It is considerably easier to say, for example,
what depression looks like than it is to say what causes it and what is
the definitive treatment for it.
Choosing the right treatment is dependent at least in part on making
the right diagnosis. While we have been able, for the most part, to agree
on what psychiatric disorders look like, when different disorders look
remarkably similar, diagnostic process becomes more unreliable and, as
such, so does the efficacy of the selected treatment. We do not have
reasonable biological markers for psychiatric disorders yet. We are
working on them, and I hope to see at least some in my lifetime, but until
the clinician in practice can have easy access to a quick and reliable
definitive study that makes a psychiatric diagnosis, we are stuck with the
lists of symptoms and signs in the DSM. If we miss something, or come to
the wrong conclusion from the history and examination that we obtain, we
run the risk of at least prescribing an ineffective treatment, and at
worst prescribing a treatment that would exacerbate the patient's illness.
Examples of this are prescribing stimulants for a child suspected of
having attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder but who actually has
bipolar disorder or prescribing antidepressants without a mood stabilizer
for a patient thought to have unipolar major depression but whose
diathesis is really from bipolar disease and who begins to cycle more
rapidly and become irritable on antidepressants alone.
Probably the most common reason for differential treatment response is
undiscovered, or at least inadequately characterized, subtypes of the
disorder. Clinical psychiatric research has been remarkably unsuccessful
in describing subtypes of disorders that have relevance for treatment
selection. There is some evidence that rapid cycling bipolar disorder
responds better to anticonvulsants than to lithium and that atypical
depression may respond preferentially to monoamine oxidase inhibitors, but
even these subtypes do not have unequivocal data backing them up.
Intuitively, it sounds almost ridiculous to say that all of the
presentations that we see of depression are the same illness, yet that is
for the most part how we describe them. Similarly, it does not sound
sensible to say that all forms of depression would respond to the same
medication, yet we continue to struggle to find the differences in the way
that our patients present that would help us make decisions about which
treatment to choose. For better or for worse, most decision-making for
selection of a pharmacotherapy is based on side-effect burden. This is not
to minimize the importance of this kind of decision-making, because no
treatment will be effective if the patient is particularly sensitive to
its side effects and cannot tolerate it. The problem is that even if they
tolerate the treatment well, there is no guarantee that it will be
effective. We have all seen patients who dismally fail their first
medication trial and do beautifully on their second. We then think, "they
must have had the type of depression for that particular drug." To date,
we have not had much success in prospectively subtyping depression, or any
other psychiatric illness for that matter, based on treatment response.
The lack of a precise diagnosis that is predictive of treatment
response, while important, is not the only reason for treatment failures.
Pharmacokinetics can play a large role in the success or failure of any
given medication regimen. One of the concepts that we take for granted in
all pharmacology is standardized dosing. If we choose a pharmacologic
treatment for a certain disorder, we look up what the dose should be and
prescribe that dose. On closer examination, however, the idea that there
is one dose that is tolerable and effective for most or all of our
patients may be considerably oversimplistic. People vary enormously in
size and weight. Their bodies also vary enormously in fat and water
composition, and these are where drugs tend to accumulate and distribute.
Even if these factors could be addressed in the choosing of a dose, data
continue to be collected about the enormous individual variation in
patients' abilities to metabolize and excrete medications. Some
generalizations can be made about some ethnic groups and whether they tend
to be rapid or slow metabolizers, but even the extent to which ethnically
similar people can vary in the rate in which they metabolize compounds
seems to be much greater than we ever gave credit for and seems to imply
that the task of choosing a dose for any given medication for any patient
is quite daunting. Most experienced psychopharmacologists will have
stories to tell about the patient who did extremely well on either a much
smaller or much larger dose of medication than usual. Often, this will be
discovered as the result of a medication error or some other serendipitous
event. It is very difficult to discover these situations empirically.
One confounding variable for whether a medication is going to be
effective has gotten a lot of attention, and that is the presence of other
medications or agents, prescribed or otherwise, that may interfere with
its effect. Much has been written about the importance of knowing and
checking for drug interactions and, as such, it is not necessary to go
into that in great detail here. However, a few points are worth making.
Much has been written about the cytochrome P450 isoenzyme system and
knowing which drugs induce or inhibit which isoenzymes. It is important to
remember, however, that there are other drug interactions besides
cytochrome P450 driven ones. For example, lamotrigine and valproate
compete for glucuronidation and, as such, inhibit each other's metabolism,
but this has nothing to do with the cytochrome P450 system. Another issue
of drug interactions has gotten a lot of attention in the press lately but
cannot be overstated. One must inquire carefully about over-the-counter
food supplements or herbal compounds purchased at health food stores, as
these can often undo whatever benefit prescribed psychotropics may have.
Many clinicians treating bipolar patients, for example, have done more
good by suggesting stopping Ephedra-based supplements that are increasing
irritability and cycling than by prescribing another agent.
Finally, of course, there is the question of pharmacodynamics. Since we
fundamentally do not understand how these drugs work, it is difficult for
us to understand in any comprehensive way why they do not work. We do have
some sense that whatever it is that they do therapeutically, they do it
considerably far upstream from their targets. If, for example, a patient
takes a serotonin reuptake blocker, their serotonin transporters are
blocked within an hour. It takes considerably longer for their depression
to resolve, even in the best of treatment responses. Many things must
happen physiologically between when they start their medication and when
they actually have an improvement. Since we are not sure what happens when
it goes right, we are equally uncertain about where it might go wrong.