Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Cerebrovascular and Neurodegenerative Diseases’ Category

matrix metalloproteinases role in vision

Larry H. Bernstein, MD, FCAP, LPBI

 

Optimal level activity of matrix metalloproteinases is critical for adult visual plasticity in the healthy and stroke-affected brain

” data-author-inst=”UniversityMedicalCenterGermany”>Michal G Fortuna, 

Siegrid Löwel
Department of Systems Neuroscience, Bernstein Focus Neurotechnology, Johann-Friedrich-Blumenbach Institute for Zoology and Anthropology, University of Göttingen, Göttingen, Germany
No competing interests declared

” data-author-inst=”UniversityofGttingenGermany”>SiegridLöwe

eLife 2015;10.7554/eLife.11290     http://elifesciences.org/content/early/2015/11/26/eLife.11290     http://dx.doi.org/10.7554/eLife.11290

 

The ability of the adult brain to undergo plastic changes is of particular interest in medicine, especially regarding recovery from injuries or improving learning and cognition. Matrix metalloproteinases (MMPs) have been associated with juvenile experience-dependent primary visual cortex (V1) plasticity, yet little is known about their role in this process in the adult V1. Activation of MMPs is a crucial step facilitating structural changes in a healthy brain; however, upon brain injury, upregulated MMPs promote the spread of a lesion and impair recovery. To clarify these seemingly opposing outcomes of MMPs-activation, we examined the effects of MMPs-inhibition on experience-induced plasticity in healthy and stoke-affected adult mice. In healthy animals, 7-day application of MMPs-inhibitor prevented visual plasticity. Additionally, treatment with MMPs-inhibitor once but not twice following stroke rescued plasticity, normally lost under these conditions. Our data imply that a fine balance of MMPs-activity is crucial for adult visual plasticity to occur.

 

Neuroplasticity is the ability of the brain to adapt both structurally and functionally to changing patterns of activity induced by the environment or intrinsic factors. In the clinical setting, plasticity is important for tissue repair and neural network rewiring, necessary for recovery and optimal post-injury brain function. The primary visual cortex (V1) is a widely used model region for studying sensory plasticity in young vs. adult brains (Hofer et al., 2006; Espinosa and Stryker, 2012; Levelt and Hübener, 2012). In mammals, V1 consists of a monocular and a binocular zone; neurons in the binocular zone respond to stimulation of both eyes but are dominated by the contralateral eye in rodents (Dräger, 1975, 1978). This ocular dominance (OD) can be modified in an experience-dependent manner, by depriving one eye of pattern vision for several days (known as monocular deprivation or MD), as originally observed by Wiesel and Hubel more than 50 years ago (Wiesel and Hubel, 1965). OD-plasticity has become one of the major paradigms for studying cortical plasticity. In standard-cage raised mice, OD-plasticity in binocular V1 is most pronounced in 4- 30 week-old animals; reduced, yet present, in early adulthood; and absent in animals 31 older than 110 days of age (Lehmann and Löwel, 2008). In 4-week-old mice, 3-4 days of MD are sufficient to induce a significant OD-shift towards the open eye (juvenile OD-plasticity), while 7 days of MD are needed in 3-month-old animals (adult 34 OD-plasticity) (Gordon and Stryker, 1996; Sawtell et al., 2003; Frenkel and Bear, 2004; Mrsic-Flogel et al., 2007; Sato and Stryker, 2008). Although the experimental paradigm is rather similar, molecular mechanisms underlying “juvenile” and “adult” OD-plasticity are different: in juvenile mice, OD-shifts are mostly mediated by 38 reductions in deprived eye responses while adult plasticity is predominantly mediated by an increase in open eye responses in V1 (Hofer et al., 2006; Espinosa and Stryker, 2012; Levelt and Hübener, 2012).

Activity driven modifications in neuronal circuits can be facilitated by degradation of the extracellular matrix (ECM) (Pizzorusso et al., 2002; de Vivo et al., 2013), which 4 provides structural and biochemical support for the cells (Frischknecht and Gundelfinger, 2012). Structural and molecular composition of the ECM changes during development, becoming denser and more rigid in the mature brain (Frischknecht and Gundelfinger, 2012; de Vivo et al., 2013). This structural composition is partially regulated by a family of zinc dependent endopeptidases, the matrix metalloproteinases (MMPs), and their enzymatic activity is crucial for proper development, function and maintenance of neuronal networks (Milward et al., 2007; Huntley, 2012). A recent study in juvenile rats showed that pharmacological inhibition of MMPs with a broad spectrum inhibitor during the MD-period did not influence the reduction of the closed-eye responses induced by 3 days of MD, yet it prevented the potentiation of the nondeprived eye responses in V1 after 7 days of MD (Spolidoro et al., 2012). Whether MMPs are involved in adult OD-plasticity, for which mechanisms are believed to be different (Hofer et al., 2006; Sato and Stryker, 2008; Ranson et al., 2012), is not yet known, and clarifying this point was the first goal of this study.

In addition to MMPs involvement in healthy brain function, their excessive activity can also be detrimental (Agrawal et al., 2008; Huntley, 2012). Both human and animal studies found upregulated activity of MMPs following inflammation, infectious diseases or brain trauma (Agrawal et al., 2008; Rosell and Lo, 2008; Morancho et al., 2010; Vandenbroucke and Libert, 2014), and pharmacological inhibition of MMPs shortly after brain injuries reduced infarct sizes and prompted better recovery (Romanic et al., 1998; Lo et al., 2002; Gu et al., 2005; Wang and Tsirka, 2005; Yong, 2005; Morancho et al., 2010; Chang et al., 2014; Vandenbroucke and Libert, 2014). Stroke can influence synaptic activities within the area directly affected by it, and also in a broader area surrounding the lesion (Witte et al., 2000; Murphy and Corbett, 2009). Likewise, impairments in experience-dependent plasticity after a cortical stroke also have been observed in distant brain regions (Jablonka et al., 2007; Greifzu et al., 2011): in 3-month-old mice, a focal stroke in the primary somatosensory cortex (S1) prevented both V1-plasticity and improvements of the 5 spatial frequency and contrast thresholds of the optomotor reflex of the open eye (Greifzu et al., 2011). Interestingly, some MMPs were shown to be upregulated within the first 24 hours after focal stroke (Cybulska-Klosowicz et al., 2011; Liguz-Lecznar et al., 2012). Thus, the second goal of our study was to test whether balancing the upregulated MMPs resulting from a focal stroke in S1 would rescue visual plasticity.

Using a combination of in vivo optical imaging of intrinsic signals and behavioral vision tests in adult mice, we observed that application of the broad spectrum MMPs-inhibitor GM6001 during the 7-day MD-period prevented both OD-plasticity and enhancements of the optomotor response of the open eye. In addition, a single treatment after the S1-stroke rescued plasticity in both paradigms, whereas treatment with the inhibitor two times diminished plasticity-promoting effect. Together, these data reveal a crucial role of MMPs in adult visual plasticity and suggest that MMPs-activity has to be within a narrow window for experience-induced plasticity to occur.

Inhibition of MMPs prevents experience-induced adult visual cortex plasticity

Inhibition of MMPs prevented experience-enabled improvements in visual capabilities

Brief inhibition of MMPs rescued experience-induced visual cortex plasticity after stroke

Inhibition of MMPs after induction of a cortical lesion rescued experience-induced improvements in visual capabilities in adult mice

 

The objective of this study was to examine if MMPs are crucial for adult visual plasticity, and if inhibition of their upregulation following cortical stroke may be beneficial for rescuing lost plasticity. A combination of in vivo optical imaging and behavioral vision tests revealed that balanced MMPs activity is essential for adult visual plasticity to occur in the healthy and stroke-affected brain. In healthy adult mice, MMPs-inhibition with GM6001 prevented both ocular dominance plasticity and experience-driven improvements of the optomotor reflex of the open eye after MD, indicating that MMPs activation is required for normal adult plasticity. In addition, blockade of elevated MMPs-activity after a cortical stroke rescued compromised plasticity. Specifically, a single but not two-times treatment with GM6001 after a cortical PT-lesion in the neighboring S1 region fully rescued experience-dependent ocular dominance plasticity in adult V1, which is normally lost under these conditions.

These observations suggest that MMPs-activity has to be within a narrow window to allow visual plasticity: if MMPs-activity is downregulated (with inhibitors) or upregulated (after stroke) experience-induced plastic changes are compromised. In a healthy brain, the enzymatic activity of MMPs has plasticity promoting effects (Milward et al., 2007; Huntley, 2012). Consequently to increased neuronal activity, activated MMPs can lessen physical barriers (loosen up the ECM) or via the degradation of certain receptors influence signaling pathways. Such changes within neuronal cells and their synapses thereby alter the structure and activity of neuronal networks (Milward et al., 2007; Huntley, 2012). Involvement of MMPs in synaptic circuit remodeling has been mainly studied in the hippocampus, yet their abundant expression in the central nervous system (CNS) indicates a much broader function. For instance, MMP9-deficient mice showed modestly reduced experience-dependent plasticity in the barrel cortex (Kaliszewska et al., 2012) and MMP3-deficient mice displayed abnormal neuronal morphology in the visual cortex and impaired plasticity induced by long-term monocular enucleation (Aerts et al., 2014). Here, we used a different approach to probe the role of MMPs in experience-induced changes in the visual system: we performed the experiments in wild type mice and treated them with the broad-spectrum inhibitor GM6001 or vehicle during 7 days of MD. Consistent with previous findings (Gordon and Stryker, 1996; Sawtell et al., 2003; Sato and Stryker, 2008), the OD-shift of vehicle-treated mice was mediated by open-eye potentiation. In contrast, there was no change in the open nor in the closed eye responses and hence no OD-plasticity in V1 after MD in GM6001-treated adult mice. This is in line with recent observations from juvenile rats, in which chronic treatment with GM6001 also prevented open eye potentiation after 7 days of MD (Spolidoro et al., 2012). However, treatment in this study only partially prevented the OD-shift, as there was no effect on the reduction of deprived eye responses (Spolidoro et al., 2012). A reduction in deprived eye responses in V1 is mostly observed in juvenile rodents after 3-4 days of MD (Gordon and Stryker, 1996), unless different raising conditions are used such as enriched environment or running wheel (Greifzu et al., 2014; 323 Kalogeraki et al., 2014). In adult, standard-cage raised mice, 6-7 days of MD are necessary for significant OD-shifts and changes are mainly mediated by increases of open eye responses in V1 (Gordon and Stryker, 1996; Sawtell et al., 2003; Sato and 326 Stryker, 2008). MMP9 activity was suggested in the potentiation of the open eye responses in juvenile rats, as treatment with GM6001 significantly reduced MMP9-mRNA expression only in the hemisphere where structural changes took place (Spolidoro et al., 2012). Since we observed a full blockade of plasticity after GM6001- treatment, it would be of interest to determine whether MMP9 is crucial for open-eye potentiation also in the adult brain. MMP9 has been widely investigated in various plasticity paradigms (Milward et al., 2007; Frischknecht and Gundelfinger, 2012; Huntley, 2012; Tsilibary et al., 2014) and one of the molecules shown to stimulate MMP9 secretion and expression in vitro and in vivo is tumor necrosis factor alpha (TNFalpha) (Hanemaaijer et al., 1993; Candelario-Jalil et al., 2007). TNFalpha signaling was found to play an important role in the open eye potentiation in juvenile (Kaneko et al., 2008), but not in adult V1 plasticity (Ranson et al., 2012), and since our data reveal that MMPs are indispensable for adult V1 plasticity, MMPs-activation in the adult brain is most likely not dependent on TNF alpha signaling. Accordingly, this adds to the notion that juvenile and adult V1 plasticity depend on different molecular mechanisms (Hofer et al., 2006; Sato and Stryker, 2008; Ranson et al., 342 2012). Together, our new data demonstrate a vital role of MMPs for adult visual cortex plasticity, in particular for the increase of open eye responses in V1 after MD, and notably expand the previous studies from juvenile rats.

Under normal conditions, MMPs-activity supports healthy brain development and function; yet a different outcome of MMPs action has been described for diseased brain (Agrawal et al., 2008). Under pathophysiological conditions like inflammation, infection or stroke, uncontrolled MMPs driven proteolysis can lead to negative consequences (Rosenberg et al., 1996; Rosenberg, 2002; Agrawal et al., 2008). Excessive MMPs-activity after stroke caused blood brain barrier disruption, upregulation of inflammatory mediators, excitotoxicity and eventually cell death; (Romanic et al., 1998; Lo et al., 2002; Gu et al., 2005; Wang and Tsirka, 2005; Yong, 354 2005; Morancho et al., 2010; Chang et al., 2014; Vandenbroucke and Libert, 2014). Recent studies reported increased enzymatic MMP9 activity within 24 hours after a PT-stroke, and application of a broad spectrum MMPs-inhibitor (FN-439) applied at the time of stroke induction, partially rescued impaired barrel cortex plasticity (Cybulska-Klosowicz et al., 2011; Liguz-Lecznar et al., 2012). Here we tested whether inhibition of upregulated MMPs-activity (resulting from PT-stroke) may rescue cortical plasticity also when the treatment starts after lesion induction. Indeed, a single GM6001-treatment after PT in the neighboring S1 fully rescued plasticity in both of our experimental paradigms, OD- and interocular plasticity. Importantly, successful treatment did not have to start immediately after stroke induction (1h) because treatment 24h after stroke had the same beneficial effect, highlighting the therapeutic potential of brief MMPs-inhibition for stroke recovery. Beneficial treatment was, however, dependent on the number of injections: a single but not two-times injection of the MMPs-inhibitor rescued OD-plasticity. The reduced plasticity- promoting effect in V1 of mice treated twice with GM6001 is likely due to too excessive MMPs-downregulation, which in turn interfered with MMPs facilitation of MD-induced plasticity. Consistent with this interpretation, it was reported that a particular dosage, timing as well as duration of MMPs-inhibition mattered for reduciton of lesion sizes after intracerebral hemorrhage, blood brain barrier permability or neurovascular remodeling in post-stroke period (Wang and Tsirka, 2005; Zhao et al., 2006; Sood et al., 2008; Chang et al., 2014). Together with the results from healthy animals, our data suggest that the plasticity-promoting effects of MMPs are dependent on a well-balanced level of activation, and if that balance is disturbed, experience-induced plastic changes are compromised.

There are several plausible mechanisms by which MMPs inhibition rescues OD- plasticity after stroke in S1. Stroke influences brain function in numerous ways e.g., causing inflammation and apoptosis, or disrupting the tightly regulated balance of neuronal inhibition and excitation (Neumann-Haefelin et al., 1995; Schiene et al., 1996; Witte and Stoll, 1997; Que et al., 1999a; Que et al., 1999b; Witte et al., 2000) also in perilesional areas (Murphy and Corbett, 2009). One of the major consequences of ischemic damage is an elevated level of the neurotransmitter glutamate, leading to excitotoxicity and neuronal death (Lai et al., 2014). On the other hand, stroke can lead to increased tonic inhibition in the peri-infarct zone, and reducing this inhibition can promote functional recovery (Clarkson et al., 2010). In addition, focal ischemia can induce spreading depression within ipsilateral cortex (Schroeter et al., 1995) and a recent study showed that this phenomenon 391 upregulated MMPs, leading to a breakdown of the blood brain barrier, edema, and vascular leakage, which was suppressed by GM6001 treatment (Gursoy-Ozdemir et al., 2004). Thus, it is likely that treatment with GM6001 shortly after the stroke – as in the present study – downregulated MMPs, thus reduced spreading depression, improved disturbed excitation/inhibition balance and allowed plastic changes to 396 occur.

Although we observed clear functional rescue of OD-plasticity after GM6001- treatment, there was no apparent effect on the lesion size: the PT-lesions in GM6001-treated mice were not smaller compared to vehicle-injected mice. This is in line with a recent observation, that a different broad-spectrum MMPs-inhibitor (FN- 143) did not attenuate brain damage resulting from photothrombosis, but partially rescued barrel cortex plasticity (Cybulska-Klosowicz et al., 2011). The present results, together with the above mentioned study, are not easy to reconcile with findings where MMPs-inhibitors reduced the volume of a brain injury (Gu et al., 2005; Wang and Tsirka, 2005; Vandenbroucke and Libert, 2014). The difference might arise from the method used for stroke induction, dosage of inhibitors, timing and duration of the treatment and severity of the lesion.

Behavioral vision tests additionally revealed an involvement of MMPs for interocular 410 plasticity during MD. The optomotor reflex is known to be mediated by subcortical pathways (Giolli et al., 2005). While visual capabilities measured by optomotry mainly reflect the properties of the retinal ganglion cells that project to these subcortical structures (Douglas et al., 2005), daily testing in the optomotor setup after MD induces a cortex-dependent and experience-enabled enhancement of spatial vision through the open eye (Prusky et al., 2006). Although inflammation was shown to interfere with the experience-enabled optomotor changes (Greifzu et al., 2011), little is known about the cellular origins or signaling pathways responsible for this plasticity paradigm. Here, we found that daily application of the MMPs-inhibitor during MD prevented enhancements in both the spatial frequency and contrast sensitivity thresholds of the optomotor reflex of the open eye, while vehicle-treated control mice displayed the typical experience-enabled optomotor improvements. On the other hand, treatment of mice with the same inhibitor once or twice following cortical stroke rescued the impaired optomotor improvements. Thus, in contrast to the OD-plasticity results, rescue of optomotor improvements was present regardless of the duration of the treatment, adding to the idea that separate mechanisms and different neuronal circuits are responsible for OD- and interocular plasticity (Greifzu et al., 2011; Kang et al., 2013; Greifzu et al., 2014). Together our results establish a novel function of MMPs in experience-enabled enhancements of the optomotor reflex of the open eye after MD in adult mice.

 

In conclusion, our present data highlight a critical role of MMPs in adult visual plasticity. They further suggest that upregulation of MMPs-activity shortly after a cortical lesion compromises experience-induced visual plasticity, which in turn can be rescued by brief MMPs-inhibition. Precise regulation of MMPs-activity therefore seems to be essential for facilitating plasticity in the adult brain and offers new opportunities in treatment and recovery for stroke. It remains to be determined which particular MMPs account for the present results.

 

Read Full Post »

Robin Williams death

Larry H. Bernstein, MD, FCAP, Curator

LPBI

 

Lewy body: The ‘monster’ dementia blamed for Robin Williams’s death

Schneider says depression didn’t cause Williams’s death: “Lewy body dementia killed Robin. That’s what took his life.”

Strikingly, LBD – sometimes referred to as dementia with Lewy bodies or Parkinson’s with Lewy bodies, depending on symptoms – is the second-most common dementia after Alzheimer’s and affects more than 127,000 Britons. Yet most people have never heard of it.

Robin Williams who suffered from Lewy Body Dementia.

James Galvin, a neurology and psychiatry professor at Florida Atlantic University, says: “It’s the most common disease you’ve never heard of.”

“This disease is a sea monster with 50 tentacles of symptoms that show when they want,” Schneider said.

Williams suffered hallucinations, anxiety, depression, loss of motor control and problem-solving skills, sleep, balance and spatial awareness problems, and delusions.

Schneider describes one incident just weeks before Williams’s death, when she was in the shower and he was standing by the sink.

“Something didn’t seem right,” she recalls, so Schneider got out of the shower to find her husband’s head covered in blood. “He pointed to the door and I said, ‘Did you hit your head?’ and he nodded.” The incident confused her at the time. “But now, finding out all about Lewy body disease, lo and behold, their vision is affected, as is the ability to recognise and identify objects,” she says. “Now I get it.”

 

Lewy bodies are protein deposits in the brain, explains Professor David Burn, consultant neurologist and director of the biomedical research unit in LBD at the UK National Institute of Health Research (NIHR).

Discovered by Dr Frederic Lewy, a colleague of Dr Alzheimer’s, in 1912, the deposits develop inside nerve cells (neurons) in the brain, interrupting messaging and causing neurons to die. A patient’s symptoms will depend on which part of the brain is affected.

“When neurons die in the cortex, it causes dementia, but when it occurs in the brainstem, it causes motor symptoms (Parkinsonism),” says Burn.

“LBD patients face a rapid deterioration in their cognitive, physical and psychiatric function, and it tends to progress faster than other dementias,” he says.

When Paul Moynagh’s wife, Imogen, couldn’t find her way from a cafe table to the counter on a visit to a National Trust house in Devon in 2006, he thought little of it.Paul, 78, couldn’t have predicted the confusing set of symptoms that Imogen, 74, would experience. LBD is often misdiagnosed as Parkinson’s or Alzheimer’s, and it took doctors almost seven years to confirm her illness.

“Looking back, it began with little signs – loss of spatial awareness is an early symptom –  but they were so inconsistent,” recalls Paul, a retired surgeon.

First, there was a minor trembling in Imogen’s hands, then severe sleepiness during the day, along with spasms that made her right foot turn in when she walked. Then she developed depression and suffered panic attacks.

“Imogen has a pragmatic personality,” says Paul. “She used to play sports, was a keen gardener, walked everywhere and looked after our two children, Mark and Rachel. Ten years ago, if you had told her she would be afraid of being left alone, she would have laughed.”

By 2010, Imogen’s reasoning and planning skills were suffering – a key sign of LBD.

A keen bridge player, Imogen recalls: “I stopped winning, so I knew something was wrong.” (Though her speech is now slow, her sense of humour remains.)

 

Like Schneider, Paul Moynagh was also baffled by his wife’s repeated falls in the years preceding her diagnosis. “She’d had nine different broken bones, breaking her wrist twice, her ankle, and once, when she’d fallen down some stairs, her elbow.”

Imogen, like Williams and many LBD sufferers, was initially diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease.

 “She began shuffling when she walked and her voice became weak, both symptoms of Parkinson’s,” says Paul. Meanwhile, her depression was getting worse, not least because Imogen was so aware of what was happening to her.

“It’s different from Alzheimer’s in that people know exactly what’s happening, and one day can be completely lucid and the next be experiencing terrible anxiety and delusions. The more Imogen is aware of her situation, the more she gets depressed.”

When Paul Moynagh’s wife began experiencing hallucinations – a tell-tale sign of LBD – he knew that there was more to her illness than Parkinson’s. “She would see people in the windows of the conservatory and in our floor – which we made look like natural stone – she saw figures speaking to her.

“In my desperation, I would spend hours Googling Imogen’s symptoms until I stumbled on Lewy body dementia,” he says.

Brown says Robert had paranoia and hallucinations – he was frightened by faces he would see in the windows of a summer house he had built at the bottom of the garden. “One evening we were watching the Baftas on television and the camera panned, settling on various stars, and Bob turned to me and said: ‘I think Judi saw us.’ He meant Dame Judi Dench. He thought we were there and became very distressed because he wasn’t correctly dressed.”

“I’m a doctor and I had never even heard of it, and the neurologist was reluctant to accept it, but Imogen ticked all the boxes.” By 2013, a locum psychiatrist finally diagnosed Imogen with LBD. “I went along with my Google list, and she finally made the diagnosis. Two months later, the neurologist finally agreed.”

 

June Brown, who plays Dot Cotton in EastEnders, lost her husband, actor Robert Arnold, to LBD in 2003.

In a moving video made for the charity Lewy Body Society, Brown recalls: “Bob knew what was happening to him and he hated it. He once said: ‘I never thought I would go like this.'”

Unlike Alzheimer’s sufferers, LBD patients often have lucid memories. “Bob never lost his memory for people’s names. It’s the most strange disease because he would have moments of confusion and moments of clarity. It’s worse than Alzheimer’s because of this awareness of what you’re going through.”

 

Now, the only way to know that someone had Lewy body dementia is when a post-mortem examination finds Lewy bodies in the brain.

According to LBD specialist Ian McKeith, professor of old age psychiatry at the Newcastle University Institute for Ageing, LBD often gets misdiagnosed because doctors don’t know which questions to ask. He is in the middle of a study funded by the NIHR to develop a diagnostic toolkit for use in NHS practices.

Although there is no cure for LBD, doctors can treat symptoms using drugs that work on the brain’s messaging system, says McKeith. But correct diagnosis is essential. “If antipsychotic or anti-Parkinson’s drugs are given to patients with LBD, they can be fatal,” he says.

“We were living a nightmare,” Susan Schneider said of Robin Williams’s final months.

McKeith says one study found that when carers looking after someone with LBD were asked to rate their quality of life on a scale of zero to one (where zero was as bad as it could be), one in four rated it as below zero.

Still, Paul Moynagh refuses to refer to life with Imogen as a nightmare. She now needs 24-hour attention and help feeding. They recently celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. During our interview, she turns to her husband and says slowly, with the difficulty she now has in getting words out: “Without your care, I don’t know where I would be.”

“Underneath it all, she is still the lovely person that I married,” he says.

“We still love each other as much as we did before – that hasn’t changed. If anything, I love her more.”

 

 

Read Full Post »

FDAnews Drug Daily Bulletin

Pharmaceuticals / Submissions and Approvals

Teva Wins Breakthrough Therapy Designation for Tardive Dyskinesia Candidate

Nov. 16, 2015

Teva Pharmaceutical Industries has won the FDA’s breakthrough therapy designation for SD-809 for the treatment of moderate to severe tardive dyskinesia.

An oral, small molecule inhibitor of vesicular monoamine 2 transporter, SD-809 (deutetrabenazine) is designed to regulate the levels of dopamine in the brain. There are currently no approved therapies in the U.S. for tardive dyskinesia, a disorder characterized by repetitive and uncontrollable movements of the tongue, lips, face and extremities.

The Israeli drugmaker’s 117-patient Phase 2/3 study compared SD-809 to placebo for reducing the severity of abnormal involuntary movements associated with tardive dyskinesia. The compound also is being developed for treatment of chorea associated with Huntington’s disease, as well as tics associated with Tourette syndrome.

Tardive dyskinesia: a brief explanation

From Medline Plus

Tardive dyskinesia is a disorder that involves involuntary movements. Most commonly, the movements affect the lower face. Tardive means delayed and dyskinesia means abnormal movement.

Causes

Tardive dyskinesia is a serious side effect that occurs when you take medications called neuroleptics. Most often, it occurs when you take the medication for many months or years. In some cases, it occurs after you take them for as little as 6 weeks.

The drugs that most commonly cause this disorder are older antipsychotic drugs, including:

  • Chlorpromazine
  • Fluphenazine
  • Haloperidol
  • Trifluoperazine

Other drugs, similar to these antipsychotic drugs, that can cause tardive dyskinesia include:

  • Flunarizine
  • Metoclopramide
  • Prochlorperazine

Newer antipsychotic drugs seem less likely to cause tardive dyskinesia, but they are not entirely without risk.

Symptoms

Symptoms of tardive dyskinesia may include:

  • Facial grimacing
  • Finger movement
  • Jaw swinging
  • Repetitive chewing
  • Tongue thrusting

Treatment

When the drug is stopped early enough, the movements may stop.

Medications to reduce the severity of the movements may also help. Botulinum toxin (Botox) injections may be effective.

Outlook (Prognosis)

If diagnosed early, the condition may be reversed by stopping the drug that caused the symptoms. Even if the drug is stopped, the involuntary movements may become permanent, and in some cases, may become worse.

References

Flaherty AW. Movement disorders. In: Stern TA, Rosenbaum JF, Fava M, et al., eds. Massachusetts General Hospital Comprehensive Clinical Psychiatry. 1st ed. Philadelphia, PA: Elsevier Mosby; 2008:chap 80.

Kompoliti K, Horn SS, eds. Drug-induced and iatrogenic neurological disorders. In: Goetz CG, ed. Textbook of Clinical Neurology. 3rd ed. Philadelphia, PA: Saunders Elsevier; 2007:chap 55.

Please watch these two VIDEOS on Extrapyramidal Syndromes and Movement disorders

 

Monoamine transporters and movement disorder

Links between the monoamine transporter VMAT2 (SLC18A2 gene) and tardive dyskinesia

J Psychiatr Res. 2013 Nov;47(11):1760-5. doi: 10.1016/j.jpsychires.2013.07.025. Epub 2013 Sep 6.

Association study of the vesicular monoamine transporter gene SLC18A2 with tardive dyskinesia.

Abstract

Tardive dyskinesia (TD) is an involuntary movement disorder that can occur in up to 25% of patients receiving long-term first-generation antipsychotic treatment. Its etiology is unclear, but family studies suggest that genetic factors play an important role in contributing to risk for TD. The vesicular monoamine transporter 2 (VMAT2) is an interesting candidate for genetic studies of TD because it regulates the release of neurotransmitters implicated in TD, including dopamine, serotonin, and GABA. VMAT2 is also a target of tetrabenazine, a drug used in the treatment of hyperkinetic movement disorders, including TD. We examined nine single-nucleotide polymorphisms (SNPs) in the SLC18A2 gene that encodes VMAT2 for association with TD in our sample of chronic schizophrenia patients (n = 217). We found a number of SNPs to be nominally associated with TD occurrence and the Abnormal Involuntary Movement Scale (AIMS), including the rs2015586 marker which was previously found associated with TD in the CATIE sample (Tsai et al., 2010), as well as the rs363224 marker, with the low-expression AA genotype appearing to be protective against TD (p = 0.005). We further found the rs363224 marker to interact with the putative functional D2 receptor rs6277 (C957T) polymorphism (p = 0.001), supporting the dopamine hypothesis of TD. Pending further replication, VMAT2 may be considered a therapeutic target for the treatment and/or prevention of TD.

Other journal articles related to VMAT2

 

 

Read Full Post »

Studying Alzheimer’s biomarkers in Down syndrome

Larry H. Bernstein, MD, FCAP, Curator

LPBI

 

NIH supports new studies to find Alzheimer’s biomarkers in Down syndrome

Groundbreaking initiative will track dementia onset, progress in Down syndrome volunteers

http://www.nih.gov/news-events/news-releases/nih-supports-new-studies-find-alzheimers-biomarkers-down-syndrome

 

The National Institutes of Health has launched a new initiative to identify biomarkers and track the progression of Alzheimer’s in people with Down syndrome. Many people with Down syndrome have Alzheimer’s-related brain changes in their 30s that can lead to dementia in their 50s and 60s. Little is known about how the disease progresses in this vulnerable group. The NIH Biomarkers of Alzheimer’s Disease in Adults with Down Syndrome Initiative will support teams of researchers using brain imaging, as well as fluid and tissue biomarkers in research that may one day lead to effective interventions for all people with dementia.

The studies will be funded by the National Institute on Aging (NIA) and the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development (NICHD), both part of NIH. The institutes are jointly providing an estimated $37 million over five years to two highly collaborative projects, which enlist a number of leading researchers to the effort. To advance Alzheimer’s research worldwide, the teams will make their data and samples freely available to qualified researchers.

“This is the first large-scale Alzheimer’s biomarker endeavor to focus on this high-risk group,” said Laurie Ryan, Ph.D., chief of the Dementias of Aging Branch in NIA’s Division of Neuroscience, which leads NIH research on Alzheimer’s.  “Much like the long-established Alzheimer’s Disease Neuroimaging Initiative, the goal of this initiative is to develop biomarker measures that signal the onset and progression of Alzheimer’s in people with Down syndrome. Hopefully, one day, we will also use these biomarkers to determine the effectiveness of promising treatments.”

The link between Alzheimer’s and Down syndrome is well-known. People with Down syndrome are born with an extra copy of chromosome 21, which contains the amyloid precursor protein gene. This gene plays a role in the production of harmful amyloid plaque, sticky clumps that build up outside neurons in Alzheimer’s disease. Having three copies of this gene is a known risk factor for early-onset Alzheimer’s that can occur in people in their 30s, 40s and 50s. By middle age, most but not all adults with Down syndrome develop signs of Alzheimer’s, and a high percentage go on to develop symptoms of dementia as they age into their 70s.

The initiative establishes funding for two research teams that will pool data and standardize procedures, increase sample size, and collectively analyze data that will be made widely available to the research community. The teams will employ an array of biomarkers to identify and track Alzheimer’s-related changes in the brain and cognition for over 500 Down syndrome volunteers, aged 25 and older. The measures include:

  • Positron emission tomography (PET) scans that track levels of amyloid and glucose (energy used by brain cells); MRI of brain volume and function; and levels of amyloid and tau in cerebrospinal fluid and blood;
  • Blood tests to identify biomarkers in blood, including proteins, lipids and markers of inflammation;
  • Blood tests to collect DNA for genome-wide association studies that identify the genetic factors that may confer risk, or protect against, developing Alzheimer’s;
  • Evaluations of medical conditions and cognitive and memory tests to determine levels of function and monitor any changes;
  • For the first time in people with Down syndrome, PET brain scans that detect levels of tau, the twisted knots of protein within brain cells that are a hallmark Alzheimer’s disease.

Aside from earlier onset, Alzheimer’s in people with Down syndrome is similar to Alzheimer’s in others. The first symptom may be memory loss, although people with Down syndrome initially tend to show behavior changes and problems with walking.

“Over the past 30 years, the average lifespan of people with Down syndrome has doubled to 60 years—a  bittersweet achievement when faced with the possibility of developing Alzheimer’s,” said Melissa Parisi, M.D., Ph.D., chief of the NICHD Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities Branch, which leads NIH’s Down syndrome research. “There is much to learn about Alzheimer’s in Down syndrome, and we’re hopeful that these new projects will provide some answers. One mystery we hope to solve is whether or not the disease progresses at a faster rate in this group.”

Parisi noted that research into Alzheimer’s in Down syndrome is a key focus of the National Plan to Address Alzheimer’s Disease(link is external), which calls for improved care for specific populations that are unequally burdened by the disease, including people with Down syndrome, and for increased research that may lead to possible Alzheimer’s therapies.

Benjamin Handen, Ph.D., Department of Psychiatry, University of Pittsburgh, heads a team that involves investigators and data from: Banner Alzheimer’s Institute, Phoenix; Cambridge University, England; Alzheimer’s Disease Cooperative Study, San Diego; Laboratory of Neuro Imaging, University of Southern California, Los Angeles. Nicole Schupf, Ph.D., Columbia University Medical Center, New York City, leads a team involving investigators at: University of California, Irvine; Kennedy Krieger Institute/Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore; Massachusetts General Hospital/Harvard University, Boston; and the University of North Texas Health Sciences Center, Fort Worth.

Learn more about this topic at https://www.nia.nih.gov/alzheimers/publication/alzheimers-disease-people-down-syndrome.

About the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development (NICHD): The NICHD sponsors research on development, before and after birth; maternal, child, and family health; reproductive biology and population issues; and medical rehabilitation. For more information, visit the Institute’s website at http://www.nichd.nih.gov.

About the National Institute on Aging: The NIA leads the federal government effort conducting and supporting research on aging and the health and well-being of older people. It provides information on age-related cognitive change and neurodegenerative disease specifically at its Alzheimer’s Disease Education and Referral (ADEAR) Center at www.nia.nih.gov/alzheimers.

About the National Institutes of Health (NIH): NIH, the nation’s medical research agency, includes 27 Institutes and Centers and is a component of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. NIH is the primary federal agency conducting and supporting basic, clinical, and translational medical research, and is investigating the causes, treatments, and cures for both common and rare diseases. For more information about NIH and its programs, visit www.nih.gov.

 

 

NATIONAL PLAN TO ADDRESS ALZHEIMER’S DISEASE: 2015 UPDATE

pdf-document/national-plan-address-alzheimer%E2%80%99s-disease-2015-update (58 PDF pages)

Introduction

Vision Statement

National Alzheimer’s Project Act

Alzheimer’s Disease and Related Dementias

The Challenges

Framework and Guiding Principles

Goals as Building Blocks for Transformation

2015 Update

 

The Connection between Down Syndrome and Alzheimer’s Disease

Many, but not all, people with Down syndrome develop Alzheimer’s disease when they get older. Alzheimer’s is an irreversible, progressive brain disorder that slowly destroys memory and thinking skills and, eventually, the ability to carry out simple tasks.

Alzheimer’s disease is the most common cause of dementia among older adults. Dementia is the loss of cognitive functioning—thinking, remembering, and reasoning—and behavioral abilities to such an extent that it interferes with a person’s daily life and activities.

People with Down syndrome are born with an extra copy of chromosome 21, which carries the APP gene. This gene produces a specific protein called amyloid precursor protein (APP). Too much APP protein leads to a buildup of protein clumps called beta-amyloid plaques in the brain. By age 40, almost all people with Down syndrome have these plaques, along with other protein deposits, called tau tangles, which cause problems with how brain cells function and increase the risk of developing Alzheimer’s dementia.

However, not all people with these brain plaques will develop the symptoms of Alzheimer’s. Estimates suggest that 50 percent or more of people with Down syndrome will develop dementia due to Alzheimer’s disease as they age into their 70s.

Alzheimer’s Disease Symptoms

Many people with Down syndrome begin to show symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease in their 50s or 60s. But, like in all people with Alzheimer’s, changes in the brain that lead to these symptoms are thought to begin at least 10 years earlier. These brain changes include the buildup of plaques and tangles, the loss of connections between nerve cells, the death of nerve cells, and the shrinking of brain tissue (called atrophy).

The risk for Alzheimer’s disease increases with age, so it’s important to watch for certain changes in behavior, such as:

  • increased confusion
  • short-term memory problems (for example, asking the same questions over and over)
  • reduction in or loss of ability to do everyday activities

Other possible symptoms of Alzheimer’s dementia are:

  • seizures that begin in adulthood
  • problems with coordination and walking
  • reduced ability to pay attention
  • behavior and personality changes, such as wandering and being less social
  • decreased fine motor control
  • difficulty finding one’s way around familiar areas

Currently, Alzheimer’s disease has no cure, and no medications have been approved to treat Alzheimer’s in people with Down syndrome.

Down Syndrome and Alzheimer’s Disease Research

Alzheimer’s can last several years, and symptoms usually get worse over time.  Scientists are working hard to understand why some people with Down syndrome develop dementia while others do not. They want to know how Alzheimer’s disease begins and progresses, so they can develop drugs or other treatments that can stop, delay, or even prevent the disease process.

Research in this area includes:

  • Basic studies to improve our understanding of the genetic and biological causes of brain abnormalities that lead to Alzheimer’s
  • Observational research to measure cognitive changes in people over time
  • Studies of biomarkers (biological signs of disease), brain scans, and other tests that may help diagnose Alzheimer’s—even before symptoms appear—and show brain changes as people with Down syndrome age
  • Clinical trials to test treatments for dementia in adults with Down syndrome. Clinical trials are best the way to find out if a treatment is safe and effective in people.

 

Alzheimers Disease Neuroimaging Initiative (ADNI)

A public-private partnership, the purpose of ADNI is to develop a multisite, longitudinal, prospective, naturalistic study of normal cognitive aging, mild cognitive impairment (MCI), and early Alzheimer’s disease as a public domain research resource to facilitate the scientific evaluation of neuroimaging and other biomarkers for the onset and progression of MCI and Alzheimer’s disease.

Dr. Laurie Ryan of the NIA gives a brief overview of ADNI in this video:

https://youtu.be/0rBVe0Fwnik

Dr. Thomas Obisesan of Howard University, an ADNI study participant, and a study companion describe ADNI and what it’s like to be involved in the study

https://youtu.be/rK1yWvvHHl8

Learn more about this topic at https://www.nia.nih.gov/alzheimers/publication/alzheimers-disease-people-down-syndrome.

Read Full Post »

Microgravity Expanded Stem Cells

Larry H. Bernstein, MD, FCAP, Curtor

LPBI

 

 

Application of Microgravity Expanded Stem Cells in Regenerative Medicine

Author: Abba C Zubair MD PhD   Mayo Clinic      http://medical.wesrch.com/pdfME1LYYYIWQLGL

Description: Application of Microgravity Expanded Stem Cells in Regenerative Medicine:- Regrettably I have no financial disclosures, However, I am available if any company is interested. MSCs for Hemorrhagic Stroke.Oxygen-Glucose Deprivation Model (OGD).Effect of MSC on OGD-Stressed Neurons. Mechanism of MSC induced neuro-recovery.Mechanism of MSC induced immune regulation.

ICH model:- Autologous blood withdraw from femoral Artery MSCs or medium infusion via femoral vein With the help of stereotactic frame and microinjection pump autologous blood will be injected to right baal ganglia, 10µl/min total 100µl.Brain sections @D1 after ICH:- 100ul autologous blood Right basal ganglion Coordinates: 0.2 mm anterior, 5.5mm ventral, and 3.5 mm lateral to bregma. Arrow shows hematoma initiated location.Behavior test includes Forelimb Use Asymmetry test and Rotometer test. Behavior (Forelimb Use Asymmetry Test)- Media, MSC infusion (1×10^6/kg).

Stem Cells in Microgravity- No effective method to expand human stem cells, Need about 200 to 500 million stem cells to achieve effective therapy.Objectives- Measure cell proliferation in microgravity versus gravity of Earth, Observe cell growth and morphological characteristics in microgravity, Analyze gene expression profiles of cells grown in microgravity, Use viable cells grown in microgravity in a variety of downstream in vitro and in vivo experiments on Earth.BioCell Cassettes:- Created by BioServe Space -Aerospace Engineering and Sciences Department at …Please navigate Paper pages for more details

http://medical.wesrchcdn.com/User_images/Pdf/315/1446880640/pdf_jpegs/14LYY_1446880640_2.jpg

 

http://medical.wesrchcdn.com/User_images/Pdf/315/1446880640/pdf_jpegs/14LYY_1446880640_3.jpg

 

http://medical.wesrchcdn.com/User_images/Pdf/315/1446880640/pdf_jpegs/14LYY_1446880640_4.jpg

Read Full Post »

Amyloid-Targeting Immunotherapy

Curator: Larry H. Bernstein, MD, FCAP

Possible Reasons Found for Failure of Alzheimer’s Treatment

By Staff Editor

http://www.healthnewsdigest.com/news/Alzheimer_Issues_680/Possible-Reasons-Found-for-Failure-of-Alzheimer-s-Treatment.shtml

(HealthNewsDigest.com) – Agglutinated proteins in the brain, known as amyloid-β plaques, are a key characteristic of Alzheimer’s. One treatment option uses special antibodies to break down these plaques. This approach yielded good results in the animal model, but for reasons that are not yet clear, it has so far been unsuccessful in patient studies. Scientists at the Technical University of Munich (TUM) have now discovered one possible cause: they noticed that, in mice that received one antibody treatment, nerve cell disorders did not improve and were even exacerbated.

Immunotherapies with antibodies that target amyloid-β were long considered promising for treating Alzheimer’s. Experiments with animals showed that they reduced plaques and reversed memory loss. In clinical studies on patients, however, it has not yet been possible to confirm these results. A team of researchers working with Dr. Dr. Marc Aurel Busche, a scientist at the TUM hospital Klinikum rechts der Isar Klinik und Poliklinik für Psychiatrie und Psychotherapie and at the TUM Institute of Neuroscience, and Prof. Arthur Konnerth from the Institute of Neuroscience has now clarified one possible reason for this. The findings were published in Nature Neuroscience.

Immunotherapy Increases Number of Hyperactive Nerve Cells

The researchers used Alzheimer’s mice models for their study. These animals carry a transgene for the amyloid-β precursor protein, which, as in humans, leads to the formation of amyloid-β plaques in the brain and causes memory disorders. The scientists treated the animals with immunotherapy antibodies and then analyzed nerve cell activity using high-resolution two-photon microscopy. They found that, while the plaques disappeared, the number of abnormally hyperactive neurons rose sharply.

“Hyperactive neurons can no longer perform their normal functions and, after some time, wear themselves out. They then fall silent and, later, possibly die off,” says Busche, explaining the significance of their discovery. “This could explain why patients who received the immunotherapy experienced no real improvement in their condition despite the decrease in plaques,” he adds.

Released Oligomers Potential Reason for Hyperactivity

Even in young Alzheimer’s mice, when no plaques were yet detectable in the brain, the antibody treatment led to increased development of hyperactive nerve cells. “Looking at these findings, even using the examined immunotherapies at an early stage, before the plaques appear, would offer little chance of success. As the scientist explains, the treatment already exhibits these side effects here, too.

“We suspect that the mechanism is as follows: The antibodies used in treatment release increasing numbers of soluble oligomers. These are precursors of the plaques and have been considered problematic for some time now. This could cause the increase in hyperactivity,” says Busche.

The work was funded by an Advanced ERC grant to Prof. Arthur Konnerth, the EU FP7 program (Project Corticonic) and the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft (IRTG 1373 and SFB870). Marc Aurel Busche was supported by the Hans und Klementia Langmatz Stiftung.

Publication
Marc Aurel Busche, Christine Grienberger, Aylin D. Keskin, Beomjong Song, Ulf Neumann, Matthias Staufenbiel, Hans Förstl and Arthur Konnerth, Decreased amyloid-β and increased neuronal hyperactivity by immunotherapy in Alzheimer’s models, Nature Neuroscience, November 9, 2015.
DOI: 10.1038/nn.4163
http://www.nature.com/neuro/journal/vaop/ncurrent/full/nn.4163.html

Amyloid-Targeting Immunotherapy Disrupts Neuronal Function

Some antibodies designed to eliminate the plaques prominent in Alzheimer’s disease can aggravate neuronal hyperactivity in mice.

By Karen Zusi | November 9, 2015  http://www.the-scientist.com//?articles.view/articleNo/44435/title/Amyloid-Targeting-Immunotherapy-Disrupts-Neuronal-Function/

http://www.the-scientist.com/images/News/November2015/10_alzheimerbrain_b.jpg

Removing built-up plaques of amyloid-β in the brain is a long-sought therapy for patients with Alzheimer’s disease, but for a variety of reasons, few treatments have succeeded in alleviating symptoms once they reach clinical trials. In a study published today (November 9) in Nature Neuroscience, an international team examined the effects of two amyloid-β antibodies on neuronal activity in a mouse model, finding that the antibodies in fact led to an increase in neuronal dysfunction.

Decreased amyloid-β and increased neuronal hyperactivity by immunotherapy in Alzheimer’s models

Marc Aurel BuscheChristine GrienbergerAylin D KeskinBeomjong SongUlf NeumannMatthias StaufenbielHans Förstl & Arthur Konnerth
Nature Neuroscience (2015)
    http://dx.doi.org:/10.1038/nn.4163

Among the most promising approaches for treating Alzheimer´s disease is immunotherapy with amyloid-β (Aβ)-targeting antibodies. Using in vivo two-photon imaging in mouse models, we found that two different antibodies to Aβ used for treatment were ineffective at repairing neuronal dysfunction and caused an increase in cortical hyperactivity. This unexpected finding provides a possible cellular explanation for the lack of cognitive improvement by immunotherapy in human studies.

Marc Busche, a psychiatrist at Technical University of Munich in Germany, and others had previously found that neuronal hyperactivity is common in mouse models of Alzheimer’s disease. The chronically rapid-firing neurons can interfere with normal brain function in mice. “There’s evidence from human fMRI [functional magnetic resonance imaging] studies that humans will show hyperactivation early in the disease, followed by hypoactivation later on,” Busche told The Scientist. “It’s an early stage of neuronal dysfunction that can later turn into neural silencing.”

To investigate whether certain antibodies would alleviate this Alzheimer’s disease-associated phenotype, Busche and his colleagues first turned to bapineuzumab—a human monoclonal antibody that initially showed promise in treating mice modeling Alzheimer’s disease, but failed in human clinical trials. The dominant hypothesis for bapineuzumab’s failure is that it was administered too late in the disease progression, said Busche. “But it’s still a hypothesis,” he added. “There’s no real explanation for why these antibodies failed.”

The team’s latest experimenters used mice with a genetic mutation that caused them to overexpress the human amyloid-β protein; these engineered mice also displayed neuronal hyperactivity. The researchers injected 3D6, the mouse version of bapineuzumab, into the engineered mice, as well as into wild-type mice that had normal expression levels of the mouse amyloid-β protein. The team observed the effects using two-photon calcium imaging in a blinded study.

As expected, 3D6 decreased the amount of amyloid-β plaques in the engineered mice, while the control mice displayed no reaction to the injected antibodies. However, the mice engineered to overexpress human amyloid-β showed increased neuronal hyperactivity in response to the antibody, regardless of what stage of plaque development they were in. Even mice too young to have developed plaques showed aggravated hyperactive neurons. The team observed the same phenomenon when it tested a second antibody, β1, which went through early stages of drug development but was never used in human clinical trials.

As expected, 3D6 decreased the amount of amyloid-β plaques in the engineered mice, while the control mice displayed no reaction to the injected antibodies. However, the mice engineered to overexpress human amyloid-β showed increased neuronal hyperactivity in response to the antibody, regardless of what stage of plaque development they were in. Even mice too young to have developed plaques showed aggravated hyperactive neurons. The team observed the same phenomenon when it tested a second antibody, β1, which went through early stages of drug development but was never used in human clinical trials.

The results surprised Busche. “When it turned out that the antibody group was worse than the control group, it was unbelievable. But we checked many times and there was no mistake,” he said. “We don’t see this effect in wild-type mice so it must be dependent on the interaction between the antibody and amyloid-β.”

Busche was quick to point out that the mouse model is not the same as a human Alzheimer’s patient. However, he said, “it gives a sense that we don’t understand the antibody’s action, and this might go on in the human brain as well.”

“I fully believe in their results, but I have some hesitation in saying that this result explains the failed clinical trials for amyloid-β immunotherapy,” said Cynthia Lemere, a neurologist and Alzheimer’s disease researcher at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. “I think the major reason for clinical trials failing for immunotherapy is that up until now, they’ve been done in people with moderate-to-severe Alzheimer’s disease, and then mild-to-moderate. Now the studies are going further to include people with very early stages of clinical symptoms—and to my knowledge, they haven’t been stopped because patients are getting worse.”

Thomas Wisniewski, a cognitive neurologist at New York University, voiced a similar perspective. “I don’t think this is an explanation for why immunotherapy isn’t working—I think there are other more plausible reasons for that,” he said, citing clinical trials that treated patients during later stages of Alzheimer’s disease progression, as well as those that haven’t addressed tau-related pathologies, or didn’t target the key types of amyloid-β. “[The neuronal hyperactivity] is an interesting phenomenon to be studied,” he added, “but I think it’s a separate issue.”

M.A. Busche et al., “Decreased amyloid-β and increased neuronal hyperactivity by immunotherapy in Alzheimer’s models,” Nature Neuroscience, doi:10.1038/nn.4163, 2015.

Figure 2: Worsening of neuronal dysfunction by anti-Aβ antibodies can occur independently of the effects on Aβ pathology.

Worsening of neuronal dysfunction by anti-A[beta] antibodies can occur independently of the effects on A[beta] pathology.

(a) Top, representative in vivo activity maps in WT (left) as well as isotype-treated (middle) and β1-treated (right) Tg2576 mice. Bottom, Ca2+ transients of neurons indicated above. The further aggravation of neuronal hyperactivity (mi…

http://www.nature.com/neuro/journal/vaop/ncurrent/carousel/nn.4163-F2.jpg

Anti-Aβ treatment aggravates abnormal brain activity in a mouse model of Alzheimer’s disease

Nature Neuroscience   Nov 10, 2015

http://www.natureasia.com/en/research/highlight/10316

Therapies that reduce deposits of amyloid-β (Aβ) in the brain are ineffective at repairing neuronal impairment in mice and actually increase it, finds a study published online in Nature Neuroscience. Aβ deposits aggregate into clumps in the brain which are a pathological hallmark of Alzheimer’s disease.

Expression of mutant human amyloid protein in animals results in deposits of Aβ plaques that induce abnormal increases in neuronal activity and impair the normal function of neuronal circuits.

Arthur Konnerth, Marc Busche and colleagues explored whether they could reverse these impairments by treating mice that overexpress the human mutant amyloid precursor protein with either of two different antibodies targeting Aβ (14 mice) or a control antibody (19 mice). They found that, although treatment with the Aβ targeting antibodies reduced the amount of plaques in the animals’ brains, it also increased the amount of hyperactive neurons.

This was true whether the treatment was given to older mice (14 treated, 19 control) or younger mice in which the accumulation of Aβ had yet to occur (10 treated, 13 control). The same therapies had no effect on neuronal activity in a group of normal mice (5 treated, 3 control), suggesting that the observed exacerbation in mutant mice is dependent on the presence of Aβ and cannot be explained by incidental effects of inflammation in response to the antibodies.

The authors note that, although other research has shown that anti-Aβ treatment can prevent the weakening of neuronal connections and memory impairments in animal models of Alzheimer’s disease, these benefits are not enough to repair neuronal dysfunction.

They suggest that their findings provide a cellular mechanism that may explain, in part, why treatments targeting Aβ in human clinical trials have failed to improve cognitive deficits. However, the authors point out that future studies are needed to determine whether the increase in abnormal neural activity seen in their animal models is related to the poor efficacy of Aβ therapy in patients.

 

ANAVEX™ 2-73

ANAVEX™ 2-73 is an orally available drug candidate developed to potentially modify Alzheimer’s disease rather than temporarily address its symptoms. It has a clean Phase 1 data profile and shows reversal of memory loss (anti-amnesic properties) and neuroprotection in several models of Alzheimer’s disease.

Successful Phase 1 Clinical Trial

A Phase 1 single ascending dose human clinical trial of ANAVEX 2-73 was successfully completed in healthy human volunteers. It was a randomized, placebo-controlled study. Healthy male volunteers aged 18 to 55 received single, ascending oral doses over the course of the trial. The trial objectives were to define the maximum tolerated dose, assess pharmacokinetics (PK), clinical and lab safety.

Results:

  • Dosing from 1-60 mg.
  • Maximum tolerated dose 55-60 mg; above the equivalent dose shown to have positive effects in mouse models of Alzheimer’s disease.
  • Well tolerated below the 55-60 mg dose with only mild adverse events in some volunteers.
  • Observed adverse events at doses above the maximum tolerated single dose included headache and dizziness, which were moderate in severity and reversible. These side effects are often seen with drugs that target central nervous system (CNS) conditions, including Alzheimer’s disease.
  • No significant changes in blood safety measurements.
  • No changes in ECG.
  • Favorable PK profile.
    • Rapid absorption into blood.
    • Dose proportional kinetics.

The trial was conducted in Germany by ABX-CRO in collaboration with the Technical University of Dresden. ABX-CRO and the Technical University of Dresden are well regarded for their experience with clinical trials and CNS compounds.

 

ANAVEX 2-73,

Clinical-stage biopharmaceutical company Anavex Life Sciences Corp. is working on an investigational oral treatment for Alzheimer’s disease called ANAVEX 2-73, with full PART A data and preliminary PART B data from its ongoing Phase 2a clinical trial to be presented during the Clinical Trials on Alzheimer’s Disease (CTAD) conference, November 5 and 7 in Barcelona, Spain.

The trial’s Principal Investigator, Stephen Macfarlane, who also serves as director and associate professor at Aged Psychiatry, Caulfield Hospital in Melbourne, Australia, will represent the company and host a late-breaking oral session entitled “New Exploratory Alzheimer’s Drug ANAVEX 2-73: Assessment of Safety and Cognitive Performance in a Phase 2a Study in mild-to-moderate Alzheimer’s Patients.” During the presentation, which will take place Saturday, November 7, at 9:45 a.m. CET, at the Gran Hotel Princesa Sofia, in Barcelona, Macfarlane will focus on the the multicenter Phase 2a clinical trial of ANAVEX 2-73. The study includes two separate phases and includes 32 mild-to-moderate Alzheimer’s patients. While PART A is a simple randomized, open-label, two-period, cross-over, adaptive trial of up to 36 days, PART B is an open-label extension trial for an additional 52 weeks.

The research intends to assess the maximum dose of treatment tolerated by patients, and to explore cognitive efficacy using mini-mental state examination score (MMSE), dose response, bioavailability, Cogstate and electroencephalographic (EEG) activity, including event-related potentials (EEG/ERP), as well as the preformance of ANAVEX 2-73 as an add-on therapy to donepezil (Aricept).

ANAVEX 2-73 is Anavex’s lead investigational treatment for Alzheimer’s disease, in line with the company’s goal of finding effective therapies for Alzheimer’s disease, other central nervous system (CNS) diseases, pain, and various types of cancer. The novel drug targets sigma-1 and muscarinic receptors, which are thought to decrease the amount of protein misfolding, beta amyloid tau and inflammation through upstream actions.

Last November, the biopharmaceutical company presented encouraging results from their phase 1 clinical trial for Anavex 2-73, during the CNS Summit 2014 in Boca Raton, Florida. The phase 1 study demonstrated that the treatment is safe and well tolerated, suggesting a favorable pharmacokinetics profile. During the randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled study no severe adverse events were registered, while the adverse events reported included moderate and reversible headache and dizziness, which are common symptoms associated with drugs that target central nervous system (CNS) conditions, such as Alzheimer’s.

New Exploratory Alzheimer’s Drug ANAVEX 2-73: Assessment of Safety and Cognitive Performance in a Phase 2a Study in mild-to-moderate Alzheimer’s Patients

Steve Macfarlane, MD1 , Paul Maruff, PhD2 , Marco Cecchi, PhD3 , Dennis Moore, PhD3 , Anastasios Zografidis, PhD4 , Christopher Missling, PhD4 (1)

Caulfield Hospital, Melbourne, Australia (2), Cogstate, Melbourne, Australia (3), Neuronetrix, KY, USA (4), Anavex Life Sciences, Corp., New York, NY, USA

Background: Despite major efforts aimed at finding a treatment for Alzheimer’s disease (AD), progress in developing compounds that can relieve cognitive deficits associated with the disease has been slow. ANAVEX 2-73 is a sigma-1 and muscarinic receptor agonist that in preclinical studies has shown memory-preserving and neuroprotective effects. In our ongoing phase 2a clinical study we are assessing ANAVEX 2-73 safety in subjects with mild-to-moderated AD, and measuring drug effects on MMSE, EEG and Event Related Potentials (ERP) cognitive measures, and Cogstate test batteries to optimize dosing.

Methods: Thirty-two subjects that meet NINCDS-ADRDA criteria for probable AD are being recruited at up to seven clinical sites in Melbourne, Australia. Subjects are between 55 and 85 years of age, and have an MMSE of 16 to 28. In PART A of the study, participants are administered ANAVEX 2-73 orally and IV in an open-label, 2-period, cross-over trial with adaptive study design lasting up to 36 days for each participant. In PART B of the study, all participants are administered ANAVEX 2-73 daily orally. MMSE, EEG/ERP (P300) and Cogstate tests are performed at baseline and subsequently at weeks 12, 26, 38 and 52 of the PART B open label extension.

Results: The primary outcome of the study is safety, and ANAVEX 2-73 was well tolerated. In the secondary outcome endpoints preliminary analysis of data from subjects shows an average improvement of the MMSE score at week 5. A majority of all patients tested so far improved their respective MMSE score. The average EEG/ERP (P300 amplitude) signal also improved and also the average Cogstate test improved across the test batteries.

Conclusions: Data collected so far indicate that ANAVEX 2-73 is safe and well tolerated. Interim results also show improved cognitive performance after drug administration in subjects with mild-to-moderate AD. The current results seem to justify a prospective comparison with current standard of care in a larger clinical trial study. A more complete set of results will be available at the time of the conference.

Read Full Post »

Sequence the Human Genome, Volume 2 (Volume Two: Latest in Genomics Methodologies for Therapeutics: Gene Editing, NGS and BioInformatics, Simulations and the Genome Ontology), Part 1: Next Generation Sequencing (NGS)

Sequence the Human Genome

Curator: Larry H Bernstein, MD, FCAP

 

 

Geneticist Craig Venter helped sequence the human genome. Now he wants yours.

By CARL ZIMMER   NOVEMBER 5, 2015   http://www.statnews.com/2015/11/05/geneticist-craig-venter-helped-sequence-the-human-genome-now-he-wants-yours/

If you enter Health Nucleus, a new facility in San Diego cofounded by J. Craig Venter, one of the world’s best-known living scientists, you will get a telling glimpse into the state of medical science in 2015.

Your entire genome will be sequenced with extraordinary resolution and accuracy. Your body will be scanned in fine, three-dimensional detail. Thousands of compounds in your blood will be measured. Even the microbes that live inside you will be surveyed. You will get a custom-made iPad app to navigate data about yourself. Also, your wallet will be at least $25,000 lighter.

Venter, who came to the world’s attention in the 1990s when he led a campaign to produce the first draft of a human genome, launched Health Nucleus last month as part of his new company, Human Longevity. He has made clear that his aim is just as lofty as it was when he and his team sequenced the human genome or built a flu vaccine from a genetic sequence delivered to them over the Internet.

“We’re trying to show the value of actual scientific data that can change people’s lives,” Venter told STAT in some of his most extensive remarks yet about the project. “Our goal is to interpret everything in the genome that we can.”

Still, the initiative is drawing deep suspicion among some doctors who question whether Venter’s existing tests can tell patients anything meaningful at all. In interviews, they said they see Health Nucleus as the latest venture that could lead consumers to believe that more testing means improved health. That notion, they say, could drive customers to get procedures they don’t need, which might even be harmful.

“I think there is absolutely no evidence that any of those tests have any benefit for healthy people,” Dr. Rita Redberg, a cardiologist at the University of California at San Diego and the editor-in-chief of JAMA Internal Medicine, said when asked about Venter’s new project.

Venter has a black belt in media savvy — he can make the details of molecular biology alluring for viewers of 60 Minutes and TED talks alike — but off screen he has earned a reputation even from his critics for serious scientific achievements. His non-profit J. Craig Venter Institute, which he founded in 1992, now has a staff of 300. Scientists at the institute have explored everything from the ocean’s biodiversity to the Ebola virus.

Last year, at age 67, Venter cofounded Human Longevity, a company based in San Diego with branches in Mountain View, Calif., and Singapore that is building the largest human genome-sequencing operation on Earth, equipped with massive computing resources to analyze the data being generated. The firm’s database now contains highly accurate genome sequences from 20,000 people; another 3,000 genomes are being added each month.

Franz Och, the former head of Google Translate and an expert on machine learning, is leading a team that’s teaching computers to recognize patterns in the company’s databases that scientists themselves may not be able to see. To demonstrate the power of this approach, Human Longevity researchers are using machine learning to discover how genetic variations shape the human face.

“We can determine a good resemblance of your photograph straight from your genetic code,” said Venter.

Venter and his colleagues will be publishing the results of that study soon — most likely generating another round of headlines. But headlines don’t pay the bills, and at a company that’s got $70 million in funding from private investors, bills matter. The company is now exploring a number of avenues for generating income from its database. It has partnered with Discovery, an insurance company in England and South Africa, to read the DNA of their clients. For $250 apiece, it will sequence the protein-coding regions of the genome, known as exomes, and offer an interpretation of the data.

Health Nucleus could become yet another source of income for Human Longevity. The San Diego facility can handle eight to 12 people a day. There are plans to open more sites both in the United States and abroad. “You can do the math,” Venter said.

Read Full Post »

Neural Networks in Alzheimer’s

Larry H. Bernstein, MD, FCAP, Curator

LPBI

SfN 2015 Recap: The Role of Synapses, Neural Networks in Alzheimer’s

Stephanie Guzowski, Editor

http://www.dddmag.com/articles/2015/11/sfn-2015-recap-role-synapses-neural-networks-alzheimers

http://www.dddmag.com/sites/dddmag.com/files/perineuronal%20nets_SfN.jpg

Perineuronal nets, shown in green, in three regions of the mouse brain. Credit: S.F. Palida et al.

Cognition and behavior rely on communication between individual neurons and extensive interactions between neural networks. But when synaptic dysfunction occurs, the results can be dire, leading to neurodegenerative symptoms in Alzheimer’s disease.

“The brain is the seed of our personal identity,” said Valina Dawson, Ph.D., director of neurogeneration and stem cell programs at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, Maryland. “It allows us to interact with our world but when things go wrong in the brain, it’s disastrous for the individual as well as the family.

“Our ability to treat these diseases is limited at the moment. We need new insight into what goes wrong.”

A lesser-known protein

Researchers, for years, have targeted amyloid beta (Aβ) in attempts to halt the progression of Alzheimer’s disease, and have recently, shown increased interest in the protein, tau.

But Paula Pousinha, Ph.D., at the French National Centre for Scientific Research, has focused her research on a lesser-known protein fragment: amyloid precursor protein intracellular domain (AICD). AICD is a fragment of amyloid precursor protein (APP), which is formed at the same time as Aβ in the brain. New evidence suggests that in addition to Aβ, AICD also disrupts communication between neurons during the progression of Alzheimer’s disease. Pousinha presented thesepublished findings at this year’s Society for Neuroscience (SfN) conference, which took place from October 17 to 21 in Chicago.

“Although AICD has been known for more than 10 years, it has been poorly studied,” said Pousinha.

Pousinha’s research team demonstrated that overexpressing AICD levels with AAV vector in rats’ brains “perturbs neuronal communication in the hippocampus,” a key structure necessary in forming memories and an area earliest affected in Alzheimer’s disease.

“In normal animals, if we apply to these neurons a high-frequency stimulation, afterward the neurons are stronger,” said Pousinha. “Neurons where we overexpressed AICD failed to have this potentization.”

Pousinha doesn’t negate the importance of Aβ in the development of neurodegenerative diseases. “Our study doesn’t exclude the pathological effects of Aβ,” she said. “We believe that Alzheimer’s disease is much more complex and has more than one candidate that has implications.

“It’s very important for the scientific community to understand the role of all these APP fragments of neuroinflammation — different pieces of the puzzle of how we can stop the disease progression.”

How do memories persist in the brain long term?

New research, also presented at this year’s SfN, has implications for understanding memory to develop treatments for Alzheimer’s disease and dementias. Sakina Palida, a graduate student at the University of California, San Diego found that localized modifications in the perineuronal net (PNN) at synapses could be a mechanism by which information is stably encoded and preserved in the brain over time.

“We still don’t understand how we stably encode and store memories in our brains for up to our entire lifetimes,” said Palida. The prevailing idea on how memories are maintained over time generally focus on postsynaptic proteins, said Palida. “But the problem with looking at intracellular synaptic proteins is that the majority turn over rapidly, of hours to at most a few days. So they’re very unstable.”

So, Palida and her team identified PNN as an ideal substrate for long-term memory. “Kind of like how you carve into stone — stone is a stable substrate — you retain the information regardless of what comes and goes over it.” They demonstrated that individual PNN proteins are highly stable, and that the PNN is locally degraded when synapses are strengthened.

And the team also demonstrated that mice lacking enzymes that degrade the PNN have deficient long-term, but not short-term, memory. “Which is a really exciting new result,” said Palida.

To track the PNN in live animals, Palida and her team fused a fluorescent protein to a small link protein in the PNN to allow tracking of PNN dynamics in real time. They also monitored PNN degradation in live cells after stimulating neurons with brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF), a chemical secreted in the nervous system to enhance signaling — and observed localized degradation of the PNN at some newly formed synapses.

Crtl 1-Venus. Fusion of a fluorescent protein to small link proteins in the PNN allows tracking of PNN dynamics over time. Credit: S.F. Palida et al. Crtl1-Venus Neurons. Tracking PNN dynamics in live cells, in mouse brain tissue. Credit: S.F. Palida et al.

What’s next? “We’re currently making transgenic animals to express this protein, which would allow us to monitor PNN dynamics simultaneously with synaptic dynamics in a live animal brain, and really investigate this hypothesis further,” said Palida.

Increased APP intracellular domain (AICD) production perturbs synaptic signal integration via increased NMDAR function

*Paula A Pousinha1PubmedElisabeth Raymond1PubmedXavier Mouska1PubmedMichael Willem2PubmedHélène Marie1Pubmed

1660 Route de Lucioles, CNRS IPMC UMR 7275, Valbonne, France2Ludwig-Maximilians-University Munich, Munich, Germany

Alzheimer’s disease (AD) is a neurodegenerative disease that begins as mild short-term memory deficits and culminates in total loss of cognition and executive functions. The main culprit of the disease, resulting from Amyloid-Precursor Protein (APP) processing, has been thought to be amyloid-b peptide (Ab). However, despite the genetic and cell biological evidence that supports the amyloid cascade hypothesis, it is becoming clear that AD etiology is complex and that Ab alone is unable to account for all aspects of AD [Pimplikar et al. J Neurosci.30: 14946. 2010]. Gamma-secretase not only liberates Ab, but also its C-terminal intracellular counterpart called APP intracellular domain (AICD) [Passer. et al. JAlzheimers Dis.2: 289-301. 2000], which is known to also accumulate in AD patient’s brain [Ghosal et al. PNAS.106:18367. 2009], but surprisingly little is known about its functions in the hippocampus. To address this crucial issue, we increased AICD production in vivo in adult CA1 pyramidal neurons, mimicking the human pathological condition. Different ex-vivo electrophysiological and pharmacological approaches, including double- patch of neighbor neurons were used. We clearly demonstrate that in vivo AICD production increases synaptic NMDA receptor currents. This causes a frequency-dependent disruption of synaptic signal integration, leading to impaired long-term potentiation, which we were able to rescue by different pharmacological approaches. Our results provide convincing and entirely novel evidence that increased in vivo production of AICD is enough, per se, to cause synaptic dysfunction in CA1 hippocampal neurons.

131.21P2X2R-FE65 interaction induces synaptic failure and neuronal dyshomeostasis after treatments with soluble oligomers of amyloid beta peptide

300.15Early synaptic deficits in Alzheimer’s disease involve neuronal adenosine A2A receptors

215.08Homeostatic coupling between surface trafficking and cleavage of amyloid precursor protein

280.11A novel mechanism for lowering Abeta

383.22Impact of intracellular soluble oligomers of amyloid-β peptide on glutamatergic synaptic transmission

Society for Neuroscience Annual Meeting Showcases Strides in Brain Research

10/23/2015 – Stephanie Guzowski, Editor

CHICAGO – Nearly 30,000 researchers from more than 80 countries gathered this week at the annual Society for Neuroscience (SfN) meeting, the world’s largest conference focused on scientific discovery related to the brain and nervous system.

The 45th annual SfN meeting at McCormick Place convention center showcased more than 15,000 scientific presentations on advances in technologies and new research about brain structure, disease and treatments, and 517 exhibitors, according to event organizers.

Presentations covered a wide variety of topics including new technologies to study the brain, the science behind addiction, potential treatments for spinal cord injuries, and the role of synapses in neurological conditions.

Of particular focus was the Brain Research through Advancing Innovative Neurotechnologies (BRAIN) Initiative, the large collaborative quest to develop technologies for a dynamic view of the brain. In early October, the National Institutes of Health announced its second round of funding to support goals, bringing the NIH investment to $85 million in fiscal year 2015.

Toxic Tau Could be Key to Alzheimer’s Treatment

01/06/2015 – Stephanie Guzowski, Editor

http://www.dddmag.com/articles/2015/01/toxic-tau-could-be-key-alzheimers-treatment

http://www.dddmag.com/sites/dddmag.com/files/tangles_Alz2.jpg

“But now, we know that tau is not simply a bystander but also a player,” Li said. “Both proteins work together to damage cell functions as the disease unfolds.”

Targeting tau

In the healthy brain, tau protein helps with the building and functioning of neurons. But when tau malfunctions, it creates abnormal clumps of protein fibers—neurofibrillary tangles—which spread rapidly throughout the brain. This highly toxic and altered form of the brain protein tau is called “tau oligomer.”

“There’s growing evidence that tau oligomers, not tau protein in general, are responsible for the development of neurodegenerative diseases, like Alzheimer’s,” said Julia Gerson, a graduate student in neuroscience at the University of Texas Medical Branch.

In Gerson’s research, which she presented at this year’s Society for Neuroscience meeting in Washington, D.C., Gerson and her team injected tau oligomers from people with Alzheimer’s into the brains of healthy mice. Subsequent testing revealed that the mice had developed memory loss.

“When we inject mice with tau oligomers, we see that they spend the same amount of time exploring a familiar object as an unfamiliar object,” said Gerson. “So they’re incapable of remembering that they’ve already seen this familiar object.”

What’s more, the molecules had multiplied throughout the animals’ brains. “This suggests that tau oligomers may spread from the injection site to other unaffected regions,” said Gerson.

Future treatments

Understanding tau’s connection to Alzheimer’s could have implications for potential therapies. “If we can stop the spread of these toxic tau oligomers, we may be capable of either preventing, or reversing, symptoms,” said Gerson. Gerson’s lab is currently investigating antibodies, which specifically fight tau oligomers.

Click to Enlarge. Normal brain vs. Alzheimer’s brain (Credit: Garrondo)

Erik Roberson, M.D., Ph.D., at the University of Alabama at Birmingham, and colleagues looked at how boosting the function of a specific type of neurotransmitter receptor, the NMDA receptor, provided benefit to people with the second most common type of dementia: frontotemporal dementia (FTD), a disease in which people experience rapid and dramatic changes in behavior, personality and social skills. People often quickly deteriorate and usually die about three years after diagnosis; there is also no effective treatment for FTD.

Since mutated tau impairs synapses—the connections between neurons—by reducing the size of NMDA receptors, “boosting the function of remaining NMDA receptors may help restore synaptic firing, and reverse behavioral abnormalities,” said Roberson.

Roberson’s, along with others’ work presented at the Society of Neuroscience meeting, focused on using animal models that mimic developing tau pathology. “These new mouse models, which contain both tau tangles and amyloid plaques” said Dr. Li, “offer the possibility of more accurately testing therapies directed at delaying the onset of amyloid beta plaques, tau accumulation and neuronal loss, all characteristic features of Alzheimer’s.”

Are clinical trials next?

Potentially, yes. “This arena of academic research has been ongoing for several years—it’s a younger area in terms of involvement of drug discovery,” said Sangram Sisodia, Ph.D., director of the Center for Molecular Neurobiology at the University of Chicago. “But I believe there is growing interest in pharma companies about targeting tau.

“The tau protein plays an incredibly complex role in the development of Alzheimer’s and other neurodegenerative diseases,” said Sisodia. “We are in the early stages of understanding that role, which will be crucial for developing effective preventions or treatments.”

Read Full Post »

Cilia and Tubulin

Larry H. Bernstein, MD, FCAP, Curator

LPBI

 

 

RESEARCHERS IDENTIFY LIPID RESPONSIBLE FOR KEEPING BRAIN FLUID MOVING

http://health-innovations.org/2015/11/04/researchers-identify-lipid-responsible-for-keeping-brain-fluid-moving/

ft Lipid helps keep algae and brain fluid moving - neuroinnovations

https://michellepetersen76.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/ft-lipid-helps-keep-algae-and-brain-fluid-moving-neuroinnovations.png

Cilia labelled in ependymal cells with tubulin antibodies by indirect immunofluorescence. 1) Acetylated tubulin (cilia labelling)/ Alexa 488, 2) Détyrosinated tubulin (cilia labelling)/ Cy3, 3) Tyrosinated tubulin (cilia labelling in pseudo color magenta)/ Cy5, 4) Cell nuclei stained with Hoescht Courtesy of Dr Saoudi, GIN, Grenoble.

Flagella and cilia are slender organellar protrusions of the eukaryotic cell membrane with sensory and motor function. Flagella and cilia are similar in that they share a microtubule-based cytoskeleton called the axoneme.  Motile cilia and flagella move extracellular fluids and particles, or propel cells such as sperm or unicellular organisms such as the green algae Chlamydomonas reinhardtii. Flagella dysfunction leads to reduced or absent motility and aberrant motile cilia leads to ependymal cell, which contain vital cerebrospinal fluid, malfunction and hydrocephalus.  It is vital for the signaling and motility functions of cilia that length, number, and intraciliary or intraflagellar transport (IFT) of cargo are dynamically regulated.
The protein machinery regulating assembly, length, movement, and transport within these organelles is conserved from Chlamydomonas to mammals. Although cilia and flagella are localized extensions of the plasma mebrane, little is known about the role of lipids in this regulation of ciliogenesis and cilium function.  Now, a study from researchers at Medical College of Georgia has shown that the same lipid, named ceramide, that helps algae swim toward the light also appears to enable one type of brain cell to keep cerebrospinal fluid moving.  The team state that it is important to know how to regulate cilia as they can become dysfunctional by stroke, Alzheimer’s disease, inflammation and aging.  The open source study is published in the study in the journal  Molecular Biology of the Cell.

Previous studies show that in the case of algae, motile cilia work like arms on a swimmer, to help algae reach sunlight, which they use to make sugar for energy and survival.  Motile cilia can make 40-50 whip-like motions per second and are continuously being resorbed and replaced.  These motile cilia also inhabit a type of support brain cell called ependymal cells; the cells that line the cavities of the brain containing cerebrospinal fluid which nourishes and cleanses the brain.

Earlier studies from the lab were the first to show that ceramide is present in these fast-moving algae cilia where it has likely been at work for a billion years.  The group reasoned that algae, an old and simple plant, seemed a good first model to figure out what regulates cilia. Cilia in algae are comparatively big, about 10 times those in mammalian cells, so with just a regular microscope, the researchers could easily watch cilia movement. The current study showed that when they applied even a miniscule amount of a fungus toxin known to inhibit ceramide production, the usually agile algae stopped, the cilia shrank and some fell off.

The current study shows that one of the protein kinases that is highly conserved from Chlamydomonas to mammals and critical for ciliogenesis is glycogen synthase kinase-3 (GSK3). The lab explain that in Chlamydomonas an GSK3 isoform regulates flagellar length.  Results show that ceramide present in the cilia of human ependymal cells activates GSK3 to regulate cilia. The researchers conclude that in both algae and ependymal cells, the two can be found together and, without their teamwork, hydrocephalus, excess fluid on the brain, can result.

The team surmise that their findings suggest that if ceramide is one of the key regulators of cerebrospinal fluid movement, it may also be a drug target to help normalize the function of cilia.  For the future, the researchers plan to visualize cilia movement in ependymal cells.

Source: University of Georgia

 

Regulation of Chlamydomonas flagella and ependymal cell motile cilia by ceramidemediated translocation of GSK3

Ji Na Kong1 , Kara Hardin1 , Michael Dinkins1 , Guanghu Wang1 , Qian He1 , Tarik Mujadzic1 , Gu Zhu1 , et al.
Mol. Biol. Cell October 7, 2015mbc.E15-06-0371   http://www.molbiolcell.org/content/early/2015/10/05/mbc.E15-06-0371.full.pdf

Cilia are important organelles formed by cell membrane protrusions, however, little is known about their regulation by membrane lipids. We characterize a novel activation mechanism for glycogen synthase kinase-3 (GSK3) by the sphingolipids phytoceramide and ceramide, which is critical for ciliogenesis in Chlamydomonas and murine ependymal cells, respectively. We show for the first time that Chlamydomonas expresses serine palmitoyl transferase (SPT), the first enzyme in (phyto)ceramide biosynthesis. Inhibition of SPT in Chlamydomonas by myriocin led to loss of flagella and reduced tubulin acetylation, which was prevented by supplementation with the precursor dihydrosphingosine. Immunocytochemistry showed that (phyto)ceramide was colocalized with phospho-tyr216-GSK3 (pYGSK3) at the base and tip of Chlamydomonas flagella and motile cilia in ependymal cells. The (phyto)ceramide distribution was consistent with that of a bifunctional ceramide analog UV-crosslinked and visualized by click-chemistry mediated fluorescent labeling. Ceramide depletion, by myriocin or neutral sphingomyelinase deficiency (fro/fro mouse), led to GSK3 dephosphorylation and defective flagella and cilia. Motile cilia were rescued and pYGSK3 localization restored by incubation of fro/fro ependymal cells with exogenous C24:1 ceramide, which directly bound to pYGSK3. Our findings suggest that (phyto)ceramide-mediated translocation of pYGSK into flagella and cilia is an evolutionarily conserved mechanism fundamental to the regulation of ciliogenesis.

Flagella and cilia are slender organellar protrusions of the eukaryotic cell membrane with sensory and motor function. Flagella and cilia are similar in that they share a microtubule-based cytoskeleton called the axoneme (Snell et al., 2004; Sung and Leroux, 2013). Primary, nonmotile cilia have a ring of nine outer microtubule doublets and are studded with growth factor receptors to function as sensory organelles regulating cell migration and differentiation. Motile cilia and flagella contain two central microtubules and the motor protein dynein attached to the nine peripheral microtubule doublets (see (Silflow and Lefebvre, 2001; Snell et al., 2004; Satir et al., 2010) for comprehensive reviews on the structure of primary and motile cilia/flagella). Motile cilia and flagella move extracellular fluids and particles, or propel cells such as sperm or unicellular organisms such as the green algae Chlamydomonas reinhardtii (Vincensini et al., 2011). Flagella dysfunction leads to reduced or absent motility, while aberrant motile cilia lead to ependymal cell malfunction and hydrocephalus (Young et al., 2013). It is vital for the signaling and motility functions of cilia that length, number, and intraciliary or intraflagellar transport (IFT) of cargo are dynamically regulated. The protein machinery regulating assembly, length, movement, and transport within these organelles is conserved from Chlamydomonas to mammals (Snell et al., 2004; Vincensini et al., 2011; Sung and Leroux, 2013). Although cilia and flagella are localized extensions of the plasma mebrane, little is known about the role of lipids in this regulation of ciliogenesis and cilium function.

Sphingolipids are essential components of eukaryotic membranes and regulate vital cell signaling pathways (Bartke and Hannun, 2009; Milhas et al., 2010; Bieberich, 2012; Markham et al., 2013). The common long chain base precursor for de novo biosynthesis of animal, plant, fungus, and algae sphingolipids is dihydrosphingosine (DHS, Figure 1). DHS is converted to ceramide (animals) and phytoceramide (plants, algae, and yeast). In animals, ceramide and its metabolite, sphingomyelin are unique in that their levels can be rapidly regulated by enzymatic conversion, the so-called sphingomyelin cycle (Figure 1)(Hannun, 1996). Ceramide is converted to sphingomyelin by sphingomyelin synthases, while sphingomyelin is hydrolyzed to ceramide by acid or neutral sphingomyelinases (aSMase, nSMase) (Nikolova-Karakashian et al., 2008; Milhas et al., 2010; Shamseddine et al., 2015). We previously reported that aSMase and nSMase-mediated generation of ceramide is critical for ciliogenesis in MDCK cells and neural progenitors, respectively (Wang et al., 2009a; He et al., 2012; He et al., 2014). In contrast to mammalian cells, Chlamydomonas and plants do not synthesize sphingomyelin, which therefore is excluded as a source for ceramide. However, in all eukaryotic cells, ceramides can be generated by de novo biosynthesis (Figure 1) (Sperling and Heinz, 2003; Gault et al., 2010; Pata et al., 2010; Hannun and Obeid, 2011; Markham et al., 2013). The first enzyme in this pathway, serine palmitoyltransferase (SPT) can be selectively inhibited by the fungal toxin myriocin, allowing for loss-of-function experiments to understand the significance of ceramide for ciliogenesis in animal cells and algae (Miyake et al., 1995; Hanada et al., 2000; Wadsworth et al., 2013). The long chain base in algae and plant sphingolipids is more complex than that in animals. Hydroxylation of DHS at C4 results in biosynthesis of phytosphingosine, which can be acylated to give rise to phytoceramides (Figure 1) (Spassieva et al., 2002; Sperling and Heinz, 2003; Pata et al., 2010; Markham et al., 2013). While plants and algae sphingolipids are relatively well known, the sphingolipid pathway in Chlamydomonas has not been investigated. Physical interaction of (phyto)ceramide with proteins that are critical for ciliogenesis is likely to underlie the regulation of flagella and motile cilia, respectively. Previously, we found that in MDCK cells and human ES cell-derived neuroprogenitors, atypical PKCδ (aPKCδ) directly interacts with ceramide and promotes primary cilium extension ultimately through inhibition of histone deacetylase 6 (HDAC6) (Bieberich et al., 2000; Wang et al., 2005; Wang et al., 2009b; He et al., 2012; He et al., 2014). HDAC6 inhibition prevents deacetylation of lysine 40 of α-tubulin, a reaction that destabilizes microtubules and promotes cilium disassembly (Pugacheva et al., 2007; Loktev et al., 2008). A Chlamydomonas tubulin deacetylase has been described, but it is not clear whether it has the same function for flagella regulation as HDAC6 for cilia in animals (Maruta et al., 1986). It is likely that ceramide interacts with additional proteins to regulate HDAC6 and/or cilium length. One candidate protein, conserved in Chlamydomonas and mammalian cilia is GSK-3β (Wilson and Lefebvre, 2004; Thoma et al., 2007). GSK-3β (GSK3) is critical for ciliogenesis, regulates HDAC6, and phosphorylates kinesin light chains that control cargo binding to microtubules (Szebenyi et al., 2002; Thoma et al., 2007; Song et al., 2014).

To identify ceramide-protein complexes in cilia, we used chemoproteomics technology for in vitro and in vivo UV cross-linking of a bifunctional ceramide analog (pacFACer) to interacting proteins and functionalizing this covalent complex for visualization using “Click chemistry” (azide-alkyne cycloaddition, Figure S1 for structure). In addition, we have developed a novel anti-ceramide antibody that recognizes ceramide and phytoceramide. Using pacFACer cross-linking and anti-ceramide antibody, we demonstrate that Chlamydomonas flagella and ependymal cell cilia show a similar distribution of ceramides that bind to GSK3, which is critical for the regulation of ciliogenesis by an evolutionarily conserved mechanism of ceramidemediated translocation of GSK3 into flagella and cilia.

Figures not shown

Chlamydomonas expresses serine palmitoyltransferase and generates plant sphingolipids There is no prior information on the presence of sphingolipids or enzymes required for sphingolipid biosynthesis in Chlamydomonas. Using reverse transcriptase (RT)-PCR and oligonucleotide primers based on sequence similarities between mouse serine palmitoyltransferase (SPT), the first enzyme in the sphingolipid biosynthetic pathway, and Chlamydomonas expressed sequence tagged (EST) clones, we found that Chlamydomonas expresses mRNAs for the subunits SPT1 and SPT2 (Figure 2A). mRNAs for these SPT subunits are similar to those expressed in mouse ependymal cells enriched from primary cultured glial cells (Weibel et al., 1986). In addition to SPT, we also detected mRNAs for lag1 and lag2, two ceramide synthases expressed in plants, suggesting that Chlamydomonas expresses several enzymes in the phytoceramide biosynthesis pathway (Figure S1B). Expression of SPT was confirmed by immunoblot. Using an antibody raised against mammalian SPTs, we were able to detect SPT2 at the predicted molecular weight (72 kD) but not SPT1 in Chlamydomonas (Figure 2B). The expression of SPTs and ceramide synthases in Chlamydomonas suggested that sphingolipids are synthesized. Using LC-MS/MS, we found that Chlamydomonas generates very long chain C26:0 (11±3 pmol/mg cells) and C28:0 (8±2 pmol/mg cells) phytoceramides, which are common plant sphingolipids (Figure 2C). In comparison, glial cells contain relatively small proportions of phytoceramide (<10% of total ceramides) (Dasgupta et al., 2013) but larger amounts of ceramide (800±150 pmol/mg cells), with C18:0 ceramide (35%) and C24:1 ceramide (25%) being the most abundant (Wang et al., 2012). Based on the observation that SPT2 is expressed in Chlamydomonas as well as mammalian cells, we tested the effect of myriocin, a fungal toxin and highly selective inhibitor of SPT by covalent binding to SPT2 (Wadsworth et al., 2013), on (phyto)ceramide biosynthesis. Figure 2D shows that myriocin is an extremely potent inhibitor of phytoceramide biosynthesis (>90% at 5 nM) in Chlamydomonas, suggesting that myriocin can be effectively used to test the function of phytoceramide in Chlamydomonas.

Phytoceramide and ceramide are critical for motility and ciliary length regulation Based on our previous studies showing that ceramide is critical for primary ciliogenesis (Wang et al., 2009a; He et al., 2012; He et al., 2014), we tested if a similar function exists for the regulation of flagella in Chlamydomonas and motile cilia in ependymal cells. To determine the effect of inhibition of de novo sphingolipid biosynthesis by myriocin on flagella, we first performed a phototaxis motility assay (Lechtreck et al., 2009). Following incubation of Chlamydomonas in a 6-well dish with 0-50 nM myriocin, half of each well was shielded from light. At 7 hours, most of the algae were still motile and swimming towards light. By 15 hours, only the algae not exposed to myriocin were fully motile (Figure 3A). This was confirmed both by cell counting with a hemocytometer and by measuring optical absorbance of chlorophyll at 450 nm. At a concentration of myriocin as low as 5 nM, approximately half of the cells were immotile (Figure 3B). At 10 nM myriocin, phase contrast microscopy showed that >70% of cells had extremely shortened (<2 µm length) flagella (Figure 3C) and often formed multicellular clusters (Figure S2A). Only a small population of cells (<20%) did not show significant flagella shortening. The inhibitory effect of myriocin on cilium length and motility was reversible since myriocin-treated cells regained motility within 48 h when resuspended in myriocin-free medium (Figure S2B). This result was consistent with a trypan blue exclusion assay showing that myriocin-treated cells did not undergo cell death (Figure S2C), further suggesting that the effect of myriocin on motility was specific for ciliogenesis and not due to general toxicity. To test if the effect of myriocin was caused by reduced synthesis of sphingolipids, we performed motility rescue experiments by supplementing the medium with various sphingolipid precursors 2 h prior to myriocin exposure. Among the sphingolipids tested, dihydrosphingosine (DHS), a metabolic precursor for (phyto)ceramide biosynthesis (Figure 1), and phytoceramide itself were the most effective (60±10% and 42±12%, respectively) in rescuing flagella length and motility (Figure 3D and E). Sphingosine and various ceramides were not effective for restoration of cilia (not shown). Fumonisin B1, a ceramide synthase inhibitor, failed to reduce motility in Chlamydomonas. This inhibitor has a higher dissociation constant than myriocin (100 nM vs. 0.28 nM) and in the case of lower uptake, the intracellular concentration of fumonisin B1 may not allow for effective inhibition of phytoceramide biosynthesis (Wang et al., 1991; Miyake et al., 1995). In ependymal cells, both myriocin and fumonisin B1 (FB1; Figure 1) reduced the length of motile cilia (Figure 3G). Addition of C24:1 ceramide to the culture medium rescued cilia in cells treated with FB1 and induced elongation of cilia in cells not treated with ceramide biosynthesis inhibitors (Figure 3F and G). In addition to FB1-treated wild type ependymal cells, we used cells from the fragilitis ossium (fro/fro) mouse, a mouse model for genetic deficiency of nSMase2 (Guenet et al., 1981; Poirier et al., 2012). In these cells, lack of nSMase2-catalyzed ceramide generation led to shortened cilia, which was rescued by exogenous C24:1ceramide (Figure S3). Other ceramides such as C18:0 ceramide were not effective in rescuing cilia in ependymal cells (not shown). These results suggest that phytoceramides in Chlamydomonas and C24:1 ceramide in ependymal cells are critical for cilium length regulation, which is likely to rely on a conserved downstream mechanism.

Phytoceramide and ceramide are enriched in compartments that regulate ciliogenesis Any effect of (phyto)ceramide on cilium regulation is likely to require the physical interaction of (phyto)ceramide with proteins in compartments that are known to regulate cilia, in particular vesicles and membranous compartments at the cilium base and the ciliary membrane. We previously generated a ceramide-specific antibody that detected an apical ceramide-enriched compartment (ACEC) at the base of primary cilia (Wang et al., 2009a; Bieberich, 2011; He et al., 2012; He et al., 2014).To test (phyto)ceramide distribution in Chlamydomonas and ependymal cells, we have generated a new antibody that reacts with both ceramide and phytoceramide as shown by lipid ELISAs (Figure 4A; data shown are background subtracted; (He et al., 2014; Dinkins et al., 2015). This antibody does not react with fatty acid (nervonic acid was tested), but it recognizes sphingosine and phytosphingosine, which are only minor cellular sphingolipids (≤10% of (phyto)ceramide) under physiological conditions. Immunocytochemistry using this antibody showed punctate labeling for (phyto)ceramide at tips of flagella and motile cilia (Figure 4B). In addition, (phyto)ceramide was enriched in vesicles or a compartment at the bases of flagella and motile cilia (Figure 4B).

We next tested if this compartment supplies (phyto)ceramide for the ciliary membrane. We used Chlamydomonas because it can be subjected to several cycles of de- and reflagellation where functionality is noted by return of motility (Wilson and Lefebvre, 2004). Chlamydomonas was 4-times deflagellated at pH 4.5 followed by rapid neutralization and reflagellation in the absence or presence of myriocin. With each de/reflagellation cycle, fewer cells retained motility. After 4 cycles, myriocin-treated cells completely lost motility while control cells were not affected (Figure 4C). In contrast to overnight incubation (Figure 3A), continuous myriocin incubation for 5 h of cells not undergoing de/reflagellation did not show loss of motility. Immunocytochemistry using the anti-(phyto)ceramide antibody showed that loss of motility in myriocin-treated cells undergoing repeated de/reflagellation was concurrent with the inability to regrow flagella and disappearance of the phytoceramide-enriched compartment at the flagella base (Figure 4D). This result suggests that the phytoceramide-enriched compartment in the cell body is dependent on de novo phytoceramide biosynthesis and supplies phytoceramide for the flagellar membrane. In the presence of myriocin, phytoceramide transported into the flagellar membrane and lost by repeated deflagellation can no longer be replenished from the cell body and flagella are no longer formed.

To test if phytoceramide is cotransported with proteins from the base into flagella, we used a bifunctional ceramide analog pacFA Ceramide (pacFACer; Figure S1A) to covalently label protein interaction partners of phytoceramide in the compartment at the flagella base and the flagellar membrane. After UV cross-linking, the pacFACer-protein complex was visualized by covalent linking to Alexa Fluor 594 azide using click chemistry. Alexa Fluor 594-labeled pacFACer was enriched in the base and tip of flagella (Figure 4E), consistent with the results obtained with anti-(phyto)ceramide antibody (Figure 4B). Next, we incubated Chlamydomonas with pacFACer followed by UV cross-linking and one cycle of de/reflagellation in the presence of myriocin before labeling of the pacFACer-protein complex with Alexa Fluor 594 azide. A proportion of the cells (15±5%) formed single very long (20±3 µm) flagella approximately double the length of normal flagella, which was not observed in the absence of UV cross-linking (Figure 4F). In these cells, the ceramide-enriched compartment at the flagella base was absent, consistent with the results obtained from repeated de/reflagellation (Figure 4D). The formation of a single, elongated flagellum labeled with pacFACer suggests that the pacFACer-protein complex is cross-linked at the flagella base and is then transported into the newly formed flagellum. Failure to dissociate after initial binding and transport due to covalent cross-linking leads to irreversible membrane association and excess cilium extension, similar to the phenotype of Chlamydomonas mutants with defective protein kinases involved in cilium length regulation (Berman et al., 2003; Wilson and Lefebvre, 2004; Hilton et al., 2013). These results suggest that (phyto)ceramide at the cilium base transiently interacts with proteins, in particular protein kinases that are critical for cilium length regulation.

Motile ciliogenesis in Chlamydomonas and ependymal cells relies on active GSK-3β  One of the protein kinases that is highly conserved from Chlamydomonas to mammals and critical for ciliogenesis is GSK-3β. In Chlamydomonas, whose genome encodes for a single GSK3 isoform, activated pYGSK3 has been shown to be enriched in flagella and to regulate flagellar length (Wilson and Lefebvre, 2004). We performed immunoblotting of proteins from myriocin-treated Chlamydomonas and found a reduction of pYGSK3 levels, which was prevented by exogenous DHS, the phytoceramide precursor (Figure 5A). Consistently, acetylated tubulin was also reduced by myriocin and rescued by DHS, supporting the hypothesis that pYGSK3 levels are correlated with tubulin acetylation in flagella. In addition to pYGSK3, total GSK3 levels were reduced by myriocin and rescued by DHS, suggesting that ceramide depletion leads to decreased expression or increased degradation of Chlamydomonas GSK3. To show the direct effect of GSK3 activity on flagella and cilia we incubated Chlamydomonas and ependymal cells with BIO ((2’Z,3’E)-6-bromoindirubin-3′-oxime), a highly selective GSK3 inhibitor (Sato et al., 2004), for 60 min. GSK3 inhibition led to immotility and flagellar length reduction (Figure 5B) similar to that observed with myriocin (Figure 3C), which is consistent with the hypothesis that phytoceramide and ceramide are critical for activation of GSK3 to regulate cilium length. Lithium chloride (LiCl), a non-competitive GSK3 inhibitor also led to immotility, although flagella were first elongated (after 2h incubation, Figure 5B) and then lost (after 24 h, not shown) consistent with previously published studies (Wilson and Lefebvre, 2004).

The enrichment of pYGSK3 in flagella indicates that it may be colocalized with phytoceramide and ceramide in Chlamydomonas and ependymal cells, respectively. We found that pYGSK3 was colocalized with phytoceramide in the flagellar membrane, particularly in the flagella tips (Figure 5C). In ependymal cells, cilia were colabeled for pYGSK3 and ceramide (Figure 5D). Interestingly, we found that while pYGSK3 colocalized with acetylated tubulin in cilia (Figure 5E, left panel) inactive GSK3 phosphorylated at ser9 (pSGSK) was not found in cilia (Figure 5E, right panel). This result suggested that pYGSK3 may bind directly to ceramide in the ciliary membrane. A lipid ELISA-based binding assay using recombinant human GSK-3β expressed in Sf9 cells confirmed that GSK3 binds to different ceramide species (Figure 5F). Affinity of human GSK3 was highest to C24:1 ceramide, which was able to rescue cilia in ceramide-depleted ependymal cells (Figure 3F and G). Immunoblots showed that human GSK3 was phosphorylated at tyr216, consistent with the hypothesis that pYGSK3 binds directly to ceramide (Figure 5G).

Immunoblots of ependymal cells from wild type and fro/fro mice showed reduced pYGSK3 and increased pSGSK3 in fro/fro cells, suggesting that reduced cellular ceramide leads to less activation of GSK3 (Figure 6A), concurrent with reduced cilium length and diminished labeling of pYGSK3 in motile cilia (Figure 6B and Figure S3). Immunohistochemistry on cryosections of fro/fro brains showed that the length of motile cilia in the ependyma was also reduced by more than 50% (Figure 6C and D). Motile cilia in the ependyma showed colocalization of ceramide with pYGSK3, predominantly in punctate structures along the membrane and cilium tip (Figure 6E and F), which was consistent with the results obtained with primary cultured ependymal cells (Figure 6B and C). Taken together, these results suggest that phytoceramide and ceramide may induce activation and translocation of pYGSK3 into flagella and cilia, which is instrumental for the regulation of their length. Ceramide interaction with aPKCζ regulation of their length.

Ceramide interaction with aPKCζ regulates ciliogenesis in ependymal cells Our previous studies showed that atypical PKCδ (aPKCδ), another protein kinase that directly binds to ceramide regulates primary ciliogenesis in mammalian cells (Lozano et al., 1994; Muller et al., 1995; Wang et al., 1999; Bieberich et al., 2000; Bourbon et al., 2000; Fan et al., 2004; Ossipova et al., 2007; Pruliere et al., 2011; He et al., 2012; He et al., 2014). GSK-3β can be inactivated by aPKCδ-mediated phosphorylation of Ser9 (pSGSK3), suggesting that mammalian ciliogenesis can be regulated by binding of ceramide to both, GSK-3β and aPKCδ (Etienne-Manneville and Hall, 2003; Kim et al., 2007; Krishnamurthy et al., 2007b). Genome analysis shows that plants and Chlamydomonas do not express a homolog of aPKCδ and GSK3 does not contain an equivalent to the Ser9 phosphorylation site found in mammalian GSK-3β (Kruse et al., 1996; Wilson and Lefebvre, 2004). Therefore, we limited the analysis motile cilia regulation by ceamide and aPKCδ to ependymal cells. An orthogonal view of a confocal z-scan shows that UV cross-linked pacFACer colocalizes with aPKCδ in the ceramide-enriched compartment at the cilium base (Figure 7A). The physical interaction of pacFACer with aPKCδ was demonstrated by a lipid ELISA-based assay using a surface coat of pacFACer for binding to recombinant aPKCδ. Binding was enhanced by UV cross-linking, suggesting that aPKCδ could be covalently linked to pacFACer and is indicative of high affinity for ceramide. The reaction did not occur in the absence of pacFACer (pCer), aPKCδ, or aPKCδ-specific antibody (Figure 7B). The ceramide binding affinity of aPKCδ was tested using lipid-ELISA with surface coats of ceramides differing in the chain length and degree of saturation of the fatty acid moiety. Affinity of aPKCδ was higher for ceramides with very long chain and unsaturated fatty acids, with highest affinity for C24:1 ceramide (Figure 7C), similar to the affinity found with GSK-3β (Fig. 5F). This result is consistent with rescue of cilia length in myriocin-treated ependymal cells and elongation of cilia in untreated cells by C24:1 ceramide.

We tested whether aPKCδ activation or inhibition is critical for ceramide-regulated motile ciliogenesis. Incubation of ependymal cells with fumonisin B1 (FB1), a ceramide synthase inhibitor, led to reduction of motile cilium length (Figure 7D). The cell-permeable myristoylated aPKCδ pseudosubstrate inhibitor (PZI) prevented reduction of motile cilium length by FB1, suggesting that ceramide-mediated inhibition of aPKCδ is critical for motile ciliogenesis (Figure 7D). Consistent with this hypothesis, addition of PZI to cells not treated with FB1 resulted in increase of cilium length by 50-60% (Figure 7D). Taken together, these results suggest that in ependymal cells, ceramide binds and inhibits aPKCδ, which leads to increase of cilium length. However, since co-localization of aPKCδ with ceramide was only detected at the cilium base, but not in the ciliary membrane (Figure 7A), we concluded that binding of aPKCδ to ceramide at the cilium base affects a secondary target that regulates cilium length by its translocation into cilia. Consistent with the observation that GSK3 is critical for flagella formation and a target for mammalian aPKCδ, we found that inhibition of GSK3 with BIO obliterated motile cilia in ependymal cells (Figure 7D). Therefore, we hypothesize that GSK3 is this secondary target by being phosphorylated at Ser9 and inactivated by aPKCδ, unless aPKCδ is bound to ceramide at the cilium base and sequestered from GSK3 that is translocated to the ciliary membrane.

Discussion

Length regulation of primary and motile cilia and flagella is essential for their biological function. To date, there are more than 20 proteins known to regulate cilium length, among which many are protein kinases (e.g., Aurora A kinase (AurA), MAPK/MAK/MRK overlapping kinase or MOK/RAGE1), IFT proteins, and enzymes involved in tubulin modification (e.g., HDAC6) (Pan et al., 2004; Pugacheva et al., 2007; Cao et al., 2013; Broekhuis et al., 2014). Little is known about the dynamic role of lipids in ciliogenesis. Since the cell membrane cannot be stretched any cilium length extension is inevitably accompanied by net synthesis and transport of membrane lipids, by either vesicle traffic or lateral movement of lipids within the cell membrane toward the cilium base. While new membrane is added at the cilium base, tubulin and other proteins for cilium extension are transported along the cilium and then added at the tip. It is not clear how membrane lipid and protein transport are coregulated to ensure that elongation of the axoneme is adjusted to the adequate expansion of the ciliary membrane. Our study presents new evidence that the sphingolipid (phyto)ceramide is instrumental for length regulation of flagella and cilia based on data from the green algae Chlamydomonas flagella and murine ependymal cells.

Chlamydomonas is a well-established model to study regulation of motile cilium length by testing mechanisms that affect flagella growth and regeneration. It has been shown that the flagellar membrane is enriched with phosphatidylethanolamine, which can be hydrolyzed by phospholipase D (PLD) to phosphatidic acid (PA), a lipid known to induce deflagellation (Quarmby et al., 1992; Goedhart and Gadella, 2004; Lechtreck et al., 2013). However, it is not clear if PLD-mediated generation of PA is part of a process regulating flagella length. It is also not known whether Chlamydomonas expresses enzymes that generate sphingolipids and whether these lipids, if present, are essential for regulation of flagella. Using RT-PCR and immunoblotting we showed that SPT, the first enzyme in de novo sphingolipid biosynthesis, in particular its subunit SPT2, is conserved and expressed in Chlamydomonas. LC-MS/MS confirmed that C26:0 and C28:0 phytoceramide are generated, suggesting that Chlamydomonas expresses a complete set of enzymes for de novo sphingolipid biosynthesis. While the analysis of the complete set of enzymes in (phyto)ceramide biosynthesis is part of our future studies, we could show that Chlamydomonas expresses the mRNAs of two putative ceramide synthases, lag1 and lag2. Among the enzyme inhibitors tested, the SPT inhibitor myriocin blocked phytoceramide biosynthesis and led to flagella length reduction and immotility. The specificity of this effect was demonstrated by the recovery of flagella growth and motility after removal of myriocin and by rescuing flagella with exogenous DHS, a downstream product of SPT and precursor for phytoceramide. Flagella were also partially rescued by exogenous phytoceramide, suggesting that flagella length is regulated by DHS that is metabolically converted to phytoceramide. Exogenous ceramide did not rescue flagella in Chlamydomonas, but it prevented loss of motile cilia in ependymal cells treated with inhibitors of ceramide biosynthesis. These results demonstrate that phytoceramide and ceramide are ciliogenic sphingolipids that regulate cilium length in Chlamydomonas and ependymal cells, respectively.

In animals, ceramide is synthesized in the endoplasmic reticulum (ER), transported to the Golgi, where it can be converted into glycosphingolipids or sphingomyelin, which are further transported to the cell membrane. Sphingomyelin can be internalized by endocytosis and hydrolyzed to ceramide by sphingomyelinases (SMases). Our previous studies have shown that SMases in mammalian cells generate ciliogenic ceramide that is accumulated in an apical ceramide-enriched compartment (ACEC) at the base of primary cilia (Wang et al., 2009a; He et al., 2012; He et al., 2014). In plants and yeast, phytoceramide is also synthesized in the ER and derivatized to complex phytosphingolipids in the Golgi. However, plants and algae do not contain sphingomyelin, but instead they generate inositolphosphorylsphingolipids (Lester and Dickson, 1993; Sperling and Heinz, 2003; Markham et al., 2013). Therefore, phytoceramide in Chlamydomonas is likely to be generated at the flagella base, either by de novo biosynthesis or degradation of complex phytosphingolipids, and then further transported into the ciliary membrane. This transport was tested using two techniques: labeling of phytoceramide and ceramide with an antibody and direct fluorescent labeling of the bifunctional ceramide analog pacFACer after UV cross-linking to interacting protein(s). Anti-ceramide IgG was originally generated in our laboratory and has been extensively tested in independent laboratories using immunocytochemistry (Krishnamurthy et al., 2007a; Wang et al., 2009a; Muscoli et al., 2010; He et al., 2012; He et al., 2014). Anti-ceramide IgG was found to detect ceramide and phytoceramide in lipid ELISAs (He et al., 2014; Dinkins et al., 2015). Using this antibody, we showed that phytoceramide and ceramide are enriched at the base and the tip of flagella and motile cilia in Chlamydomonas and ependymal cells, respectively. These results suggest that (phyto)ceramide is transported from the ciliary base to the tip.

Figure 8A shows a model consistent with a by co-transport of (phyto)ceramide and flagella/cilia length-regulating proteins. In this “flux equilibrium model”, lipid vesicles from the ceramide compartment are incorporated into the ciliary membrane at the cilium base. Lipidcargo protein co-transport ensures the stoichiometry required for simultaneous cilium elongation and membrane expansion. (Phyto)ceramide may serve as a membrane anchor for co-transported cargo proteins, or alternatively, it may activate a loading/unloading mechanism at the base or tip of the cilium. The cilium length is regulated by the size or ceramide content of the compartment at the base and its lipid flux to the cilium: more ceramide favors cilium assembly, less favors disassembly until flux rates in both directions are equal and the cilium length is maintained. Consistent with this model, repeated de- and reflagellation in the presence of myriocin led to the inability to regenerate flagella, indicating that phytoceramide is continuously incorporated into the ciliary membrane and replenished by de novo biosynthesis. Appearance of fluorescently labeled pacFACer in newly formed flagella was concurrent with disappearance of labeling at the base, further supporting the hypothesis that (phyto)ceramide is transported from the base into the ciliary membrane.

Any specific regulation of cilia by (phyto)ceramide requires its interaction with proteins involved in ciliogenesis. It has been shown that several evolutionary conserved kinases with mammalian homologs such as Chlamydomonas AurA-like kinase (CALK), LF4p (MOK in mammals), and GSK3 are important for flagella length regulation (Silflow and Lefebvre, 2001; Berman et al., 2003; Pan et al., 2004; Wilson and Lefebvre, 2004; Thoma et al., 2007; Cao et al., 2009; Ou et al., 2009; Cao et al., 2013; Hilton et al., 2013; Broekhuis et al., 2014). GSK3 is of particular importance since its role in ciliogenesis has been confirmed in numerous studies, but it is unclear if cilium length extension is induced by activation or inhibition of GSK3, or both. Lithium chloride (LiCl), a non-competitive inhibitor of GSK3, has been shown to induce cilium extension in Chlamydomonas and mammalian cells (Berman et al., 2003; Nakakura et al., 2014). However, LiCl is not specific and requires mM concentrations for effectiveness, and other studies have shown that its effect on ciliogenesis is independent of GSK3 (Ou et al., 2009). Specific GSK3 inhibitors have not been tested in Chlamydomonas, and they have given inconsistent results when used to test their effect on mammalian ciliogenesis (Ou et al., 2009; Wang et al., 2009a). We administered two specific GSK3 inhibitors, BIO and indirubin-3- monoxime, to Chlamydomonas and found that they lead to complete shortening of flagella within 60 min, consistent with their effect on ependymal cells. Therefore, we conclude that active GSK3 is critical for maintenance or extension of cilia. This conclusion is consistent with previous studies showing that active pYGSK3 is translocated into flagella and that GSK3 knockdown leads to flagella shortening (Wilson and Lefebvre, 2004). It is also consistent with studies showing that specific inhibition or knockdown of GSK3 impairs ciliogenesis in mammalian cells (Ou et al., 2009). The critical role of pYGSK3 for ciliogenesis was further substantiated by our observation that pYGSK3 is colocalized with phytoceramide and ceramide in Chlamydomonas flagella and ependymal cell motile cilia, respectively. In ependymal cells, nSMase2 deficiency led to decreased levels of pYGSK and increased levels of pSGSK, clearly showing that nSMase2-mediated generation of ceramide is instrumental for increasing pYGSK3 and reducing pSGSK levels.

Activation of GSK3 by autophosphorylation of tyr216 is a cotranslational process, while inactivation by desphosphorylation at this residue and phosphorylation of ser9 is posttranslational and regulated by phosphatases and kinases, respectively (Beurel et al., 2015). Since nSMase2-deficient ependymal cells show reduction of tyr216 and increase of ser9 phosphorylation, ceramide is likely to affect phosphatases and kinases that regulate GSK3 phosphorylation. We and other laboratories have found that ceramide binds and sequesters aPKCδ (Lozano et al., 1994; Muller et al., 1995; Wang et al., 1999; Bieberich et al., 2000; Bourbon et al., 2000; Wang et al., 2005; Fox et al., 2007; Wang et al., 2009b), which was confirmed by lipid-ELISAs and UV cross-linking to pacFACer. Ceramide-induced sequestration may prevent aPKCδ-mediated phosphorylation of GSK3 at ser9 and lead to enrichment of pYGSK3 in the cilium tip (Figure 8B). The hypothesis that ceramide-mediated sequestration of aPKCδ is critical for cilium length extension is supported by the observation that inhibition of aPKCδ with PZI promotes ciliogenesis in ependymal cells. Ceramide depletion prevents sequestration of aPKCδ and enrichment of pYGSK3 in cilia, while it promotes phosphorylation of GSK3 at ser9 and elevation of pSGSK3 levels (Figure 6A). Neither aPKCδ nor pSGSK3 are transported into cilia, suggesting that ciliary pYGSK3 is critical for cilium length regulation.

In Chlamydomonas, pYGSK3 levels and transport into flagella are elevated by phytoceramide, but the interaction partner is currently unknown as plants and algae do not possess aPKC homologs (Kruse et al., 1996). Moreover, Chlamydomonas GSK3 does not have a phosphorylation site homologous to ser9 in mammalian GSK-3β (Wilson and Lefebvre, 2004). Therefore, phytoceramide may sustain pYGSK3 levels and its enrichment into flagella by a different mechanism. Our data showing that phytoceramide is colocalized with pYGSK3in flagella strongly suggests that phytoceramide may regulate IFT of pYGSK3 (Figure 8B). Likewise, colocalization of ceramide with pYGSK3 in motile cilia suggests that ceramide may interact directly with pYGSK3 within the ciliary membrane and promote its transport to the tip. Support for this hypothesis comes from lipid-based ELISAs showing that recombinant human GSK-3β binds to C24:1 ceramide, the ceramide species rescuing motile cilia in ceramide depleted ependymal cells. Potential binding to pYGSK3 may be the evolutionarily older mechanism by which (phyto)ceramide regulates flagella/cilia, while ceramide-mediated sequestration of aPKC may have developed more recently as complementary mechanism of GSK3 activation in animals. It is currently unknown how the interaction of phytoceramide or ceramide with pYGSK3 in the cilium tip may regulate cilium length extension. It is possible that pYGSK downregulates HDAC6, thereby preserving tubulin acetylation (Figure 8B). Support for this hypothesis comes from a previous study showing that dysfunctional GSK3 leads to upregulation of HDAC6 and ciliary defects (Song et al., 2014). It is also possible that pYGSK does not directly regulate tubulin acetylation but instead cargo release at the cilium tip. It has been shown that GSK3- mediated phosphorylation of kinesin light chain leads to release of transport vesicles in neuronal axons (Szebenyi et al., 2002). It is likely that a similar mechanism may induce phosphorylation of kinesin 2 in cilia, which then allows for release of proteins that are critical for cilium assembly at the tip. The interaction of phytoceramide and ceramide with pYGSK at the cilium tip may trigger this cargo release and promote ciliogenesis.

In summary, our study shows that (phyto)ceramide is critical for the regulation of flagella in Chlamydomonas and motile cilia in ependymal cells in vitro and in vivo. We present new evidence that nSMase2-deficiency results in shortening of motile cilia in the ependyma, suggesting that reduction of ceramide generation leads to ciliary dysregulation in vivo. While it has not been described that mutations of enzymes in ceramide metabolism are linked to ciliopathies, our study shows that (phyto)ceramide levels and composition are important for adjusting cilium length. Therefore, (phyto)ceramide is the first signaling sphingolipid demonstrated to metabolically regulate ciliogenesis by an evolutionarily conserved mechanism in Chlamydomonas and mammalian cells.

 

RESEARCHERS VIDEO AND MEASURE TUBULIN TRANSPORT IN CILIA FOR THE FIRST TIME.

http://health-innovations.org/2015/01/27/researchers-image-and-measure-tubulin-transport-in-cilia/

 

 

https://michellepetersen76.files.wordpress.com/2015/01/uga-researchers-image-and-measure-tubulin-transport-in-cilia-healthinnovations1.png

 

Defective cilia can lead to a host of diseases and conditions in the human body, from rare, inherited bone malformations to blindness, male infertility, kidney disease and obesity. It is known that these tiny cell organelles become deformed and cause these diseases because of a problem related to their assembly, which requires the translocation of vast quantities of the vital cell protein tubulin. What they didn’t know was how tubulin and another cell organelle known as flagella fit into the process.

Now, a new study from University of Georgia shows the mechanism behind tubulin transport and its assembly into cilia, including the first video imagery of the process. The study was published in the Journal of Cell Biology.

Cilia are found throughout the body, so defects in cilia formation affect cells that line airways, brain ventricles or the reproductive track.  One of the main causes of male infertility is the cilia won’t function properly.

The team used total internal reflection fluorescence microscopy to analyze moving protein particles inside the cilia of Chlamydomonas reinhardtii, a green alga widely used as a model for cilia analysis.

The team exploited the natural behaviour of the organism, which is to attach by its cilia to a smooth surface, such as a microscope glass cover. This positions the cilia within the 200-nanometer reach of the total internal reflection fluorescence microscope allowing for the imaging of individual proteins as they move inside the cilia.  A video explaining the process was published along with the study.

Tubulin is transported by this process called intraflagellar transport, or IFT.  Though it has long been suspected in the field and there was indirect evidence to support the theory, this is the first time it has been shown directly, through live imaging, that IFT does function as a tubulin pump.  The team observed that about 400,000 tubulin dimers need to be transported within 60 minutes to assemble a single cilium. Being able to see tubulin moving into cilia allowed for first insights into how this transport is regulated to make sure cilia will have the correct size.

The new findings are expected to have wide implications for a variety of diseases and conditions related to cilia defects in the body.  The team state that they are on the very basic side of this research.  But because more and more diseases are being connected to cilia-related conditions, including obesity and even diabetes, the number of people working on cilia has greatly expanded over the last few years.

The team summise that unicellular models are great tools to address the many fundamental questions which remain unanswered such as controlling the size of cilia and how cells determine the proteins to be placed into these sensory organelles. In Chlamydomonas, the researchers were able to initiate cilia formation experimentally, which allowed them to see cilia during construction and analyze protein traffic while they are made.

Source:  UGA Public Affairs Division 

Repeated FRAP of growing and nongrowing cilia is followed by similar rates of recovery. (A and B) Segments of a steady-state (A) and a re-generating (B) cilium were repeatedly bleached (indicated by arrowheads). Kymograms (top) and FRAP quantification (bottom) indicate similar rates (in percentage of pre-bleach GFP– a-tubulin fluorescence) of recovery after each bleaching step. (C and D) Individual frames (C) and kymograms (D) of a long-short cell. Bleached areas are marked by dashed circles. The kymogram (D) is a composite of several recordings, and arrowheads labeled a–e indicate the positions of the frames in C. The time (in seconds) for each recording and the position the bleaching laser (Brackets) is indicated; overexposed frames caused by photobleaching were deleted. Arrows in D: GFP–a-tubulin trajectories. Note fast and strong recovery in subsequent bleachings of the short cilium while the initially bleached area in the long cilium remains visible. The extended observation time will also bleach some of the (axonemal) GFP–a-tubulin outside of the spot bleaching area. This loss of fluorescence in the nonbleached areas results in a higher apparent recovery in the bleached areas. Tubulin transport by IFT is upregulated during ciliary growth by a cilium-autonomous mechanism. Lechtreck et al 2015.

https://michellepetersen76.files.wordpress.com/2015/01/uga-researchers-image-and-measure-tubulin-transport-in-cilia-healthinnovations.png

Repeated FRAP of growing and nongrowing cilia is followed by similar rates of recovery. (A and B) Segments of a steady-state (A) and a re-generating (B) cilium were repeatedly bleached (indicated by arrowheads). Kymograms (top) and FRAP quantification (bottom) indicate similar rates (in percentage of pre-bleach GFP–a-tubulin fluorescence) of recovery after each bleaching step. (C and D) Individual frames (C) and kymograms (D) of a long-short cell. Bleached areas are marked by dashed circles. The kymogram (D) is a composite of several recordings, and arrowheads labeled a–e indicate the positions of the frames in C. The time (in seconds) for each recording and the position the bleaching laser (Brackets) is indicated; overexposed frames caused by photobleaching were deleted. Arrows in D: GFP–a-tubulin trajectories. Note fast and strong recovery in subsequent bleachings of the short cilium while the initially bleached area in the long cilium remains visible. The extended observation time will also bleach some of the (axonemal) GFP–a-tubulin outside of the spot bleaching area. This loss of fluorescence in the nonbleached areas results in a higher apparent recovery in the bleached areas. Tubulin transport by IFT is upregulated during ciliary growth by a cilium-autonomous mechanism. Lechtreck et al 2015.

 

Tubulin transport by IFT is upregulated during ciliary growth by a cilium-autonomous mechanism

Julie M. Craft,1J. Aaron Harris,1Sebastian Hyman,1Peter Kner,2 and Karl F. Lechtreck1

JCB Jan 2015; 208(2): 223-237  Craft et al. 208 (2): 223   http://dx.doi.org:/10.1083/jcb.201409036

 

The assembly of the axoneme, the structural scaffold of cilia and flagella, requires translocation of a vast quantity of tubulin into the growing cilium, but the mechanisms that regulate the targeting, quantity, and timing of tubulin transport are largely unknown. InChlamydomonas, GFP-tagged α-tubulin enters cilia as an intraflagellar transport (IFT) cargo and by diffusion. IFT-based transport of GFP-tubulin is elevated in growing cilia and IFT trains carry more tubulin. Cells possessing both nongrowing and growing cilia selectively target GFP-tubulin into the latter. The preferential delivery of tubulin boosts the concentration of soluble tubulin in the matrix of growing versus steady-state cilia. Cilia length mutants show abnormal kinetics of tubulin transport. We propose that cells regulate the extent of occupancy of IFT trains by tubulin cargoes. During ciliary growth, IFT concentrates soluble tubulin in cilia and thereby promotes elongation of the axonemal microtubules.

 

 

Microtubules, polymers of α- and β-tubulin dimers, are the major structural element of motile and nonmotile cilia and flagella (Borisy and Taylor, 1967). Microtubules form the scaffold onto which other axonemal structures such as dynein arms and radial spokes are attached; they also serve as tracks for intraflagellar transport (IFT), a bidirectional motility which is required for ciliary assembly (Kozminski et al., 1993, 1995). During ciliary growth, large amounts of tubulin dimers need to be transported into the organelle. Like cytoplasmic microtubules, the axonemal microtubules grow through the addition of tubulin subunits to the distal plus-ends (Witman, 1975; Euteneuer and McIntosh, 1981; Johnson and Rosenbaum, 1992). Thus, the delivery of tubulin into cilia and its translocation to the ciliary tip are prerequisites for ciliary assembly.

Several lines of evidence suggest that inside cilia, tubulin is transported by IFT. In the conditionalChlamydomonas fla10-1 mutant, the incorporation of epitope-tagged tubulin at the distal end of cilia is decreased after a shutdown of IFT (Marshall and Rosenbaum, 2001). In vitro, tubulin dimers directly interact with a tubulin-binding module formed by the IFT particle proteins IFT74 and IFT81 (Bhogaraju et al., 2013). Expression of fluorescent tubulin in Caenorhabditis elegans revealed weak tracks, possibly representing tubulin transport in sensory cilia, and FRAP analysis supported the notion that tubulin transport is IFT-dependent (Hao et al., 2011). It remains largely unknown how tubulin transport is coordinated with ciliary growth. Insufficient delivery of tubulin could result in slower growth and shorter cilia, whereas an excess of tubulin might promote the assembly of excessively long cilia. Defects in ciliary length impair the motile and sensory functions of cilia and have been linked to ciliary diseases (Mahjoub et al., 2005; Tammachote et al., 2009; Ko et al., 2010; Özgül et al., 2011; Mahjoub and Stearns, 2012; Tam et al., 2013).

In the unicellular alga Chlamydomonas reinhardtii, IFT and protein transport inside cilia can be imaged with single particle sensitivity using total internal reflection fluorescence (TIRF) microscopy (Lechtreck, 2013;Wren et al., 2013). Recently, stable expression of a fluorescent protein-tagged α-tubulin was accomplished inC. reinhardtii (Rasala et al., 2013). Ciliogenesis can be experimentally induced by removing the existing cilia (Rosenbaum et al., 1969), allowing for an in-depth study of the relationship between tubulin transport and ciliary growth using direct imaging. A genetic analysis of the regulation of tubulin transport is aided by numerous C. reinhardtii mutants with defects in ciliary assembly and length control.

Here, using two-color imaging, we show that GFP–α-tubulin is primarily transported by IFT but some GFP-tubulin also enters cilia by diffusion. The frequency of tubulin transport events by anterograde IFT was greatly increased during ciliary growth. We find that C. reinhardtii cells possess the ability to preferentially direct IFT-bound tubulin into growing cilia, indicating that tubulin transport is regulated in a cilium-autonomous manner. Dysregulation of tubulin transport was observed in the cilia length mutants short flagella2 and long flagella2-1, indicating a possible link between the ciliary length regulation and tubulin transport by IFT. During ciliary growth, the concentration of soluble tubulin in the ciliary matrix was elevated substantially above that of steady-state cilia. We propose a model in which cells use IFT to regulate the concentration of soluble tubulin inside cilia; a high concentration of tubulin in the matrix will promote microtubule polymerization and ciliary growth.

Results  
Endogenous and GFP-tagged α-tubulin show a similar distribution

To express GFP–α-tubulin in C. reinhardtii for imaging in vivo, we used the recently described fusion construct consisting of the zeocin resistance gene BLE and the TUA2 gene separated by the viral 2A sequence encoding a self-cleaving peptide and replaced the original mCerulean with the brighter superfolder GFP (hereafter referred to as GFP; Rasala et al., 2013). In vivo microscopy revealed the presence of GFP–α-tubulin in cilia and cell body microtubules (Fig. 1 A; Rasala et al., 2013). Western blotting of whole cells with anti-GFP identified a major ∼78 kD and a minor ∼104 kD band that were both also recognized by anti–α-tubulin (Fig. 1 B). The former represents GFP–α-tubulin; the latter, largely excluded from cilia (Fig. 1 B), is the uncleaved ble-GFP–α-tubulin fusion protein. The expression levels of GFP–α-tubulin varied between individual transformants. In the strain GFP-Tub1, which was used in most experiments, GFP–α-tubulin amounted to ∼15% of the endogenous α-tubulin (Fig. 1 B). To determine the distribution of GFP-tagged and endogenous α-tubulin, cells were fractionated and analyzed by Western blotting (Fig. 1, B–D). Staining with anti–α-tubulin revealed that ∼80% of endogenous tubulin resides in the cell body and ∼20% enters the cilia; a similar partition was observed for GFP–α-tubulin with ∼90% in the cell body and ∼10% in cilia (Fig. 1, C and F). Inside steady-state cilia, both tagged and endogenous tubulin showed a similar distribution with ∼90% incorporated into the axoneme and <10% remaining soluble in the membrane+matrix fraction (MM fraction; Fig. 1, D and G). Immunoprecipitation using anti-GFP beads revealed that GFP–α-tubulin forms a complex with endogenous β-tubulin in the ciliary matrix (Fig. S1, A and B). Axonemal tubulin is known to undergo numerous posttranslational modifications (PTMs; Gaertig and Wloga, 2008). Western blots of fractionated cilia probed with PTM-specific antibodies showed that GFP–α-tubulin undergoes K40 acetylation and polyglutamylation, especially in the axoneme (Fig. 1 E and Fig. S1 C). In summary, GFP–α-tubulin behaves largely similar to the endogenous protein, validating its use as a reporter of tubulin transport.

An external file that holds a picture, illustration, etc. Object name is JCB_201409036_Fig1.jpg
GFP-tagged and endogenous α-tubulin have similar properties.(A) Bright-field (a) and TIRF (b and c) images of a live cell expressing GFP–α-tubulin. The two focal planes show cilia (b) and cell body microtubules (c). Bar, 1 µm. (B) Western blot analysis of wild type (WT) and the GFP–α-tubulin expressing strain GFP-Tub1. Whole cells (WC), cell bodies (CB), isolated cilia (FLA), axonemes (AX), and MM fractions were loaded and probed with antibodies to GFP and α-tubulin. The bands corresponding to α-tubulin, GFP–α-tubulin, and the uncleaved ble-GFP–α-tubulin are marked. (C) Western blots probed with anti–α-tubulin and anti-GFP showing different dilutions of the cell body (CB) sample in comparison to the undiluted cilia sample (FLA). The amounts of endogenous and tagged tubulin in cilia correspond to ∼20 and ∼10% of the respective cell body tubulin. (D) Western blot showing a dilution series of axonemes (AX) and undiluted MM of strain GFP-Tub1 to determine the distribution of tagged and endogenous tubulin inside cilia. The blot was probed with antibodies to α-tubulin and the matrix protein IFT139. (E) Western blots of wild-type and GFP-Tub1 axonemes probed with antibodies to α-tubulin, acetylated α-tubulin (6-11B-1), polyglutamylated tubulin (GT335), GFP, and, as a loading control, IC2, an outer arm dynein intermediate chain. (F and G) Schematic presentations of the distribution of GFP-tagged tubulin and endogenous tubulin in whole cells (F) and cilia (G).      http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4298693/bin/JCB_201409036_Fig1.gif
Tubulin is a cargo of IFT

To image GFP–α-tubulin during transport, cilia were first photobleached to eliminate the signal resulting from the presence of GFP–α-tubulin in the axonemes and then analyzed by TIRF microscopy. Kymograms (time-space plots) showed individual GFP–α-tubulin particles diffusing inside cilia or undergoing active transport with constant velocities indicative for IFT (Fig. 2 A; Videos 1 and 2). Anterograde transport progressed at 1.68 µm/s (±0.21 µm/s; n = 1,404 particles) and occurred with a frequency of 0.3 particles/min in steady-state cilia (± 0.7 particles/min, n = 78 cilia); retrograde transport events were rarely observed and had a velocity of 3.05 µm/s (±1.1 µm/s, n = 35; Fig. 2 A, a and b). IFT moved the majority of GFP–α-tubulin particles directly from the ciliary base to the tip (98% of 1,281 particles; Fig. 2 B, a); transitions of GFP–α-tubulin from IFT to diffusion indicative of unloading along the ciliary shaft were observed as well (Fig. S2, C and D). To test directly if tubulin moves in association with IFT trains, GFP–α-tubulin was expressed in anift20-1 IFT20-mCherry strain (Fig. S3 B). Two-color imaging showed comigration of the tagged tubulin and IFT20-mCherry indicating that tubulin is a bona fide cargo of IFT (Fig. 2 B and Video 3).

Tubulin enters cilia by IFT and diffusion. (A) Gallery of kymograms depicting GFP–α-tubulin (or, in c, mNeonGreen-tubulin) moving inside cilia by anterograde IFT (open arrow in a), retrograde IFT (open arrow in b), and diffusion (arrowheads in c and d). Anterograde transport results in trajectories running from the bottom left (ciliary base) to the top right (ciliary tip; T); retrograde transport events result in top-left to bottom-right trajectories. (c) Tubulin diffusing inside the ciliary shaft; (d) reduced mobility of GFP–α-tubulin in the vicinity of the tip (filled arrows). Bars, 1 µm and 1 s. (B) Kymograms from simultaneous imaging of mNeonGreen–α-tubulin (a and b) and IFT20-mCherry (c and d) in growing cilia; IFT-like trajectories are marked in b and d. A merged kymogram is shown in e. A Western blot of this strain is shown in Fig. S3 B. Bars, 5 µm and 5 s. (C) Mean square displacement versus time for 64 sfGFP–α-tubulin particles diffusing inside the shaft and 58 particles diffusing near the tip of steady-state cilia. The standard error of the mean at each value is indicated. A linear fit to the data at the short time points, which is likely to represent pure diffusion, results in diffusion coefficients of ∼1.8 µm2/s and ∼0.2 µm2/s for 1D diffusion of GFP-tubulin along the ciliary shaft and at the tip, respectively. (D) Still images and kymograms of fla10-1 cells expressing either GFP–α-tubulin (a and b) or IFT20-mCherry (c and d) at the permissive temperature (22°C; a and c) and after >180 min at 32°C (b and d). IFT-like trajectories for tubulin and IFT20 were only observed at 22°C (open arrows in a and c). Diffusion of GFP–α-tubulin (arrowhead in b) into photobleached cilia continued at 32°C in the absence of detectable IFT (d). Bars, 1 µm and 1 s. (E) Frequency of anterograde GFP–α-tubulin transport by IFT in fla10-1 and control cells (FLA10 ift20-1 IFT20 mCherry). Steady-state cilia and cilia regenerated in the presence of CHX were compared; at 32°C, IFT-like tubulin transport was robust in control cells but not observed in fla10-1 cells. fla10-1 regenerates cilia only slowly at room temperature (∼22°C); most measurements are based on cells regenerating cilia at 16°C. Error bars indicate SEM.   http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4298693/bin/JCB_201409036_Fig2.jpg

Recent data revealed that the acidic C-terminal domain (E-hook) of β-tubulin but not that of α-tubulin is required for the in vitro interaction between tubulin dimers and IFT74–IFT81 complexes (Bhogaraju et al., 2013). We designed modified GFP–α-tubulins in which the E-hook was replaced with the corresponding region of β-tubulin, altered to substitute seven glutamate residues with alanine or glutamine, or removed entirely (Table S1). The altered α-tubulin molecules were expressed (as ∼5–15% of the endogenous α-tubulin; Fig. S3 A), transported by IFT, and incorporated into the axoneme (Table S1). Thus, our in vivo observations agree with the earlier in vitro study showing that the C-terminal E-hook of α-tubulin is dispensable for tubulin binding to IFT trains. The modified tubulins were expressed in the presence of endogenous wild-type tubulin indicating that C. reinhardtii tolerates some E-hook–deficient GFP–α-tubulins; a deletion of the E-hook from all of either α- or β-tubulin is lethal in Tetrahymena (Duan and Gorovsky, 2002).

Tubulin enters cilia by diffusion

To improve imaging of diffusing tubulin, photobleached cilia were observed at elevated laser intensities which quickly bleached most GFP preventing crowding of the cilia with fluorescent α-tubulin. For some experiments, superfolder GFP was replaced with the brighter mNeonGreen (Shaner et al., 2013). 64 individual GFP–α-tubulin particles were tracked while diffusing inside the ciliary shaft and the mean of the square displacement was determined in 30 subsequent frames (Fig. 2 C). This resulted in a 1D diffusion coefficient of 1.76 ± 0.18 µm2/s for GFP–α-tubulin, a value similar to that determined for similarly sized soluble proteins diffusing in cilia (Lin et al., 2013). In agreement with this high mobility of GFP–α-tubulin, we observed “jumps” over almost the entire length of a cilium (Fig. 2 A, d; and Fig. S2, A, E, and I). In the vicinity of the ciliary tip, GFP-tagged tubulin mostly displayed a reduced mobility as reflected by a diffusion coefficient of ∼0.18 ± 0.02 µm2/s (n = 58 trajectories; Fig. 2 A, d; Fig. S2, A, C, D, and F, white arrowheads; and Video 4). The reduced mobility of GFP-tubulin in the distal ∼0.5-µm ciliary segment could result, for example, from interactions with other proteins. Infrequently, GFP–α-tubulin diffusing near the tip of steady-state cilia was observed becoming stationary, which is indicative of incorporation into the axoneme (Fig. S2, F–H).

Although IFT-based transport of tubulin was rare in steady-state cilia, diffusing GFP-tubulin continuously entered fully photobleached cilia from the base (Fig. 2 A, c; Fig. S2 I; and Video 2). To test whether active IFT is required for the diffusional entry of tubulin into cilia, we expressed GFP–α-tubulin in the C. reinhardtii fla10-1 mutant; IFT can be switched-off in this strain by incubating the cells at 32°C for several hours (Kozminski et al., 1995). IFT of GFP–α-tubulin was observed in fla10-1 and wild-type steady-state cilia at the permissive temperature albeit at low frequencies (Fig. 2, D, a, and E). Cycloheximide (CHX) limits ciliary regeneration to half-length and we previously observed elevated transport of the axonemal protein DRC4 in such cilia (Wren et al., 2013). Similarly, an increased frequency of tubulin transport was observed in half-length cilia assembled by control or fla10-1 in the presence of CHX at the permissive temperature (Fig. 2 E). After shifting such cells to 32°C for 180 min, IFT-like movements of GFP–α-tubulin were frequent in cilia of control cells but were not observed in the fla10-1 cells; entry of GFP–α-tubulin by diffusion, however, continued (Fig. 2, D, b, and E). A strain expressing IFT20-mCherry in the fla10-1 ift20-1background was used to verify that IFT was indeed abolished at the conditions used (Fig. 2 D, c and d). The data indicate that GFP–α-tubulin enters cilia by diffusion.

The frequency of tubulin transport by IFT is regulated by the assembly status of cilia

To determine whether IFT transports more tubulin when cilia grow, we compared the transport frequencies of GFP–α-tubulin between steady-state and growing cilia. After amputation of cilia by a pH shock, cells regenerate full-length cilia within ∼90 min. Partially regenerated cilia were bleached and tubulin influx and incorporation into the cilia were analyzed (Fig. 3 A and Video 5). Fluorescent tubulin was rapidly added to the tip and the fluorescent distal parts of cilia lengthened, revealing that cilia continue to grow under TIRF illumination while immobilized in the observation chamber (Fig. 3 B). In growing cilia (∼3–10 µm in length), GFP–α-tubulin moved by anterograde IFT with a greatly elevated mean frequency of 18.3 ± 6.9 particles/min (n = 110 cilia) versus ∼0.3 particles/min observed in steady-state cilia of the same strain (Fig. 3 C). The transport frequency of GFP–α-tubulin remained elevated until cilia reached ∼10 µm in length and was then reduced to 1 ± 2.2 particles/min in cilia of 10–12 µm in length (n = 49 cilia) before returning to the pre-deciliation level (∼0.3 ± 0.75 particles/min, n = 80 cilia at >2 h after pH shock; Fig. 3, C and D). The pattern indicates a strong length dependency of IFT-based tubulin transport and matches the deceleratory kinetics of cilia regeneration in C. reinhardtii with rapid elongation until cilia reach ∼10 µm, followed by slower growth until cilia reach their final length of ∼12 µm (Rosenbaum et al., 1969; Engel et al., 2009). In summary, tubulin transport by anterograde IFT is up-regulated during ciliary growth.

IFT particles carry more tubulin during ciliary growth. (A) Schematic presentation of the experimental design. Cells were deciliated by a pH shock and allowed to partially regrow cilia. Then, the cilia were bleached and the entry and assembly of unbleached GFP–α-tubulin was analyzed by TIRF. (B) Individual frames from videos captures before (T0), during (bleach), and at various time points (T1–T7 in min) after bleaching of the cilia. Brackets: unbleached GFP-tubulin added at the ciliary tip as cilia elongate. Bar, 2 µm. Bottom: kymogram of the same cell showing numerous IFT-like GFP-tubulin tracks. Bar, 2 µm and 2 s. (C) Mean frequency of GFP-tubulin transport by anterograde IFT in steady-state (ss), regenerating (reg), and fully regenerated (fr) cilia. Error bars indicate the standard deviation. (D) Analysis of GFP-tubulin transport frequency by anterograde IFT in regenerating cilia of various lengths. Error bars indicate SEM. (E and F) Segments of the cilia of cells coexpressing GFP–α-tubulin and IFT20-mCherry were bleached using a focused laser beam and protein traffic in the bleached region was analyzed by two-color TIRF microscopy. The kymogram of a cell with fully regrown flagella (E) shows numerous IFT20-mCherry trajectories, whereas transport of GFP–α-tubulin was not observed. In contrast, most IFT20-mCherry trajectories align with GFP–α-tubulin trajectories in the regenerating cilium (F). Bars, 2 µm and 5 s. (G) Scatter plot of the occupancy rate (the percentage of IFT20-mCherry particles moving together with GFP–α-tubulin) in cilia of different length. Cells with regenerating (white marks) or nongrowing (steady-state and fully regenerated, black marks) cilia were analyzed (n = 32 and 13 cilia, respectively).   http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4298693/bin/JCB_201409036_Fig3.jpg
IFT particles carry more tubulin during ciliary growth

The observed increase in the transport of tubulin in growing cilia could be caused by an increase in the amount of tubulin carried by a given number of IFT trains or by an increase in the number of IFT trains without changing the tubulin load per train. In C. reinhardtii, similar amounts of IFT material are thought to be present in cilia regardless of their length (Marshall et al., 2005; Engel et al., 2009). Two-color imaging was used to determine the share of IFT particles participating in GFP-tubulin transport in regenerating and steady-state cilia (Fig. 3, E–G). Photobleaching of the entire cilia using increased 488-nm laser intensity also greatly diminished the signal from IFT20-mCherry making quantitative analyses unreliable. We therefore used a brief, focused laser beam in epifluorescence (∼3 µm diameter; ∼100–300 ms in duration) to bleach a ciliary segment and imaged the cilia in TIRF as particles reentered the bleached area (Fig. 3, E and F). IFT occupancy, i.e., the share of IFT20-mCherry–tagged anterograde IFT trains carrying GFP–α-tubulin, decreased from ∼80% during the initial rapid growth to ∼10% as cilia approached full length and even lower rates in fully regenerated and steady-state cilia (means were 45 ± 21% vs. 4.5 ± 3.5%, respectively; P = 2.2 × 10−8; Fig. 3 G). As previously shown, the IFT frequency was largely independent of ciliary length (Fig. S4 A; Dentler, 2005; Engel et al., 2009). In conclusion, IFT trains in regenerating cilia carry a larger load of tubulin than those in nongrowing cilia.

IFT transport of tubulin is regulated in a cilium-autonomous manner

How do cells regulate the loading of cargo onto IFT particles? To begin addressing this question, we tested whether tubulin transport is regulated at the cilium or cell level. After shearing of just one of the two cilia, cells will partially resorb the remaining cilium while regrowing the missing one giving so-called long-short cells (Fig. 4 A and see Fig. 6 E; Rosenbaum et al., 1969). An elevated tubulin transport in both cilia of a long-short cell would indicate a cell-wide regulation, whereas an increase limited to the growing cilium would indicate a regulation that operates at the single cilium level. The mean GFP–α-tubulin IFT frequencies were 20.5 particles/min for the short and 3.3 particles/min for the long cilia of long-short cells (n = 17; ±11.6 and 3.2 particles/min, respectively; Fig. 4, B and C; Video 6). In all long-short cells analyzed, the transport frequency in the short cilium exceeded that of the long one; this difference decreased as both cilia approached a similar length (Fig. 4 D).

An external file that holds a picture, illustration, etc. Object name is JCB_201409036_Fig4.jpg
Cilium-autonomous regulation of tubulin transport by IFT. (A) Schematic presentation of the long-short experiment to generate cells with growing and nongrowing cilia. (B) Bright-field (a), TIRF image (b), and corresponding kymograms (c and d) of a long-short …   http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4298693/bin/JCB_201409036_Fig4.jpg
An external file that holds a picture, illustration, etc. Object name is JCB_201409036_Fig6.jpg
The concentration of soluble tubulin is increased in growing cilia.(A) Western blot comparing the amounts of tubulin in the MM fractions of steady-state (ss), fully regenerated (fr), and regenerating (reg) cilia. MM fractions were loaded to represent …  http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4298693/bin/JCB_201409036_Fig6.jpg

As an alternative approach that does not require mechanical shearing, we generated long-short cells by mating GFP–α-tubulin–expressing gametes with full-length cilia to wild-type gametes that were deciliated by a pH shock and regenerating cilia (Fig. 5, A and B, a and b). The resulting zygotes, initially possessing two long GFP-positive and two short GFP-negative cilia, will equalize the length of all four cilia by partially resorbing the long ones and adding new tubulin to the short ones (Fig. 5 B, c–g; Ludington et al., 2012). Tubulin transport in all four cilia of such zygotes was analyzed after photobleaching (Fig. 5 C; Video 7). The frequency of tubulin transport by anterograde IFT in the short growing cilia surpassed that of the nongrowing long cilia (Fig. 5 D). As the four cilia approached equal length, the transport frequency in the initially long cilia increased, whereas that in the initially short ones decreased (Fig. S4 D). Based on the study of long-short cells, we conclude that the frequency of IFT-based tubulin transport events is controlled cilium-autonomously.

An external file that holds a picture, illustration, etc. Object name is JCB_201409036_Fig5.jpg
Cells direct tubulin flux specifically into growing cilia. (A) Schematic presentation of the experimental design. Wild-type gametes were deciliated by a pH shock, allowed to initiate cilia regeneration, and fused to GFP–α-tubulin expressing …    http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4298693/bin/JCB_201409036_Fig5.jpg
The concentration of soluble tubulin is increased during ciliary growth

In steady-state cilia, ∼10% of the total tubulin was in the detergent-soluble MM fraction (Fig. 1 D). The elongation of microtubules depends, among other factors, on the availability of αβ-tubulin dimers (Desai and Mitchison, 1997; Howard, 2001). Western blotting and FRAP analysis were used to test whether steady-state and growing cilia differ in the concentration of soluble tubulin. Steady-state, growing, and fully regenerated cilia were separated into axonemal and MM fractions; loading was adjusted to represent equal volumes of MM (Fig. 6 A). Western blots revealed that the amount of soluble tubulin was doubled from ∼10 to 20% of the total ciliary tubulin in growing versus nongrowing flagella (Fig. 6 A; for quantification see Fig. S4, B and C).

For FRAP analysis, ciliary segments were spot bleached (Video 8). An exchange of axonemal tubulin with GFP–α-tubulin laterally along the ciliary shaft was not observed in this study. Thus, axonemal GFP–α-tubulin will remain bleached. Soluble, unbleached GFP–α-tubulin from other ciliary segments or de novo imported from the cell body will move into the bleached region, and fluorescence recovery reflects the concentration of mobile GFP-tubulin in the cilium (Fig. 6 B). FRAP analysis showed recovery rates of 2 ± 1% of the pre-bleach fluorescence for nongrowing cilia (n = 16), whereas ∼15.6 ± 10% of the signal intensity recovered in growing cilia (n = 18; Fig. 6, C and D). In growing cilia, GFP-tubulin moving on IFT trains through the bleached region contributes to the recovery, but over time the diffused background staining significantly increased, indicating an increase in the concentration of GFP-tubulin diffusing inside cilia (Figs. 3 F, 6 F, and S5 B). Repeated bleaching of the same ciliary segment was followed by a recovery of similar strength (∼5% for steady-state and ∼15% for growing cilia; Fig. S5), indicative of an ongoing de novo import of GFP–α-tubulin into cilia.

An increase in the concentration of soluble tubulin in cilia could result from an increase in soluble tubulin in the cell body of regenerating cells. FRAP of long-short cells, however, showed that recovery was significantly stronger in the short cilium than in the long one (39 ± 10% vs. 4.3 ± 3%; Fig. 6, E–H; Fig. S5, C and D; Video 9). Thus, distinct concentrations of soluble tubulin can be established in the two cilia of the same cell. We conclude that the concentration of soluble tubulin is elevated in growing cilia. A high concentration of tubulin in the ciliary matrix is likely to promote elongation of the axonemal microtubules.

Defective regulation of tubulin transport in ciliary length mutants

Because microtubules are the major structural elements of cilia, defective regulation of tubulin transport could affect ciliary length. We expressed GFP–α-tubulin in lf2-1 (long flagella2) and shf2 (short flagella2) mutants and selected transformants expressing similar amounts of GFP-tubulin as the control strain GFP-Tub1 (Fig. S3 C). lf2-1 has cilia of variable length with some 2–3× longer than wild type, whereas cilia reach only 6–8 µm in shf2. LF2 encodes a CDK-like kinase, whereas the molecular defect in shf2 is unknown (Kuchka and Jarvik, 1987; Tam et al., 2007). In steady-state lf2-1 cilia, the mean frequency of GFP–α-tubulin transport was higher than in steady-state wild-type cilia; a length-dependent decrease in frequency was not observed (Fig. 7 A). Cilia regeneration in lf2-1 was slow and irregular in onset with many cells failing to reassemble cilia (Barsel et al., 1988). In the lf2-1 cells that regenerated cilia, the frequency of tubulin transport was somewhat higher but showed a similar lack of length dependency. The frequency of IFT was slightly reduced in lf2-1 (unpublished data). lf2-1 cells apparently fail to properly regulate the IFT-based transport of tubulin in response to changes in ciliary length.

An external file that holds a picture, illustration, etc. Object name is JCB_201409036_Fig7.jpg

Regulation of tubulin transport in cilia. (A) Scatter plot of the frequencies of tubulin transport by anterograde IFT in shf2 (red symbols) and lf2-1 mutant cilia (blue symbols). Diamonds: steady-state cilia; triangles: regenerating cilia. Trend lines …   http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4298693/bin/JCB_201409036_Fig7.jpg

In steady-state cilia of shf2, the frequency of tubulin transport decreased with increasing ciliary length and tubulin transport was rarely observed in shf2 cilia longer than ∼6 µm, a length at which wild-type cilia showed robust trafficking of tubulin (Figs. 7 A and 3 D). IFT (based on DIC microscopy) appeared normal in the longer shf2 cilia (unpublished data). Many shf2 cells failed to regenerate cilia but the regrowth kinetics was largely normal in those that did (Kuchka and Jarvik, 1987). Regenerating shf2 cilia showed a similar steep down-regulation of tubulin transport frequency with increasing ciliary length as described for shf2 in steady-state. The data suggest that shf2, although able to increase tubulin transport frequency in short regenerating cilia, prematurely down-regulates tubulin transport by IFT. The data show that an abnormal regulation of tubulin transport occurs in mutants with defects in ciliary length regulation.

Discussion  
IFT functions as a tubulin transporter

Ciliary assembly requires a massive translocation of tubulin from the cell body into the growing organelle. InC. reinhardtii, almost 800,000 tubulin dimers, corresponding to ∼20% of the cell’s total tubulin, are required to assemble its two 12-µm-long 9+2 cilia (Bhogaraju et al., 2014b; see Materials and methods). IFT is essential for the assembly of cilia and flagella in most eukaryotes and thought to be the major pathway of protein transport in cilia (Rosenbaum and Witman, 2002). Recent data, however, have shown that numerous proteins move into cilia in an IFT-independent manner. Ectopic cytosolic proteins up to a size of ∼50 kD enter cilia by passive diffusion; even proteins up to ∼650 kD appear to diffuse slowly into cilia (Kee et al., 2012; Breslow et al., 2013; Lin et al., 2013). In C. reinhardtii, the transmembrane protein SAG1 and the membrane-associated phospholipase D will enter cilia in the absence of IFT (Belzile et al., 2013; Lechtreck et al., 2013). Furthermore, certain transmembrane proteins (SSTR3, Smo) diffuse inside the ciliary membrane while associating only transiently—if ever—with IFT (Ye et al., 2013). These findings raised the question which proteins are the actual cargoes of IFT. Several TRP channels were reported to move by IFT and the BBSome cycles through cilia by associating to IFT trains (Blacque et al., 2004; Qin et al., 2004; Huang et al., 2007; Lechtreck et al., 2009). Also, IFT powers gliding and ciliary surface motility in C. reinhardtiipresumably due to its interaction with the ciliary transmembrane protein FMG-1B (Collingridge et al., 2013;Shih et al., 2013). We recently showed that the axonemal proteins PF16, DRC2, and DRC4 are cargoes of IFT and that entry of DRC4-GFP into cilia is largely diminished in the absence of IFT (Wren et al., 2013). Defects in the IFT complex B protein IFT46 and or its interacting partner ODA16p largely prevent the transport of outer arm dynein to its ciliary docking sites (Hou et al., 2007; Ahmed et al., 2008). Thus, IFT plays a role in the transport of axonemal proteins, several of which are transported in large complexes feasibly rendering transport by diffusion inefficient. Several studies provided evidence that tubulin is a cargo of IFT but direct imaging of tubulin transport by IFT and the quantification of such events has been challenging (Marshall and Rosenbaum, 2001; Hao et al., 2011; Bhogaraju et al., 2013; Brust-Mascher et al., 2013). Here, we show that GFP-tagged tubulin moves in association with IFT particles inside cilia indicating that IFT functions as tubulin transporter.

Cilium-autonomous regulation of tubulin transport by IFT

In growing cilia, the frequency of GFP-tubulin transport by IFT was greatly elevated. Taking into account that only a fraction of the total tubulin in cilia was tagged, extrapolation of the data indicates that IFT trains in growing cilia carry a larger tubulin load than those in steady-state cilia. Previously, we showed that the IFT-based transport of the axonemal protein DRC4 is strongly increased during ciliary growth (Wren et al., 2013). It is likely that the transport of many other ciliary proteins is also enhanced when cilia elongate. Although some differences in the velocity, size, and frequency of IFT in growing vs. steady-state cilia of C. reinhardtii have been reported, the number of IFT particles inside cilia is largely length-independent (Dentler, 2005; Marshall et al., 2005; Engel et al., 2009). In conclusion, IFT trains are highly loaded with cargo during ciliary growth; then, the number and velocity of IFT trains might limit the rate of ciliary elongation. Indeed, the 60% reduction in IFT frequency observed in the IFT kinesin mutant fla3-1 results in sluggish regrowth of nearly full-length cilia (Mueller et al., 2005). In steady-state cilia, IFT particles carry less cargo probably running well below capacity. This would allow the cells to quickly adjust ciliary protein content and length in response to developmental or environmental cues by altering cargo loading of IFT (Wren et al., 2013).

Currently, it is unknown how the amount of cargo transported by IFT into cilia is regulated. In a simple model, an increase in the concentration of soluble tubulin in the cell body would make more tubulin available as cargo for IFT and promote tubulin transport into cilia (Chan and Marshall, 2012; Goehring and Hyman, 2012). Indeed, primary cilia elongate when the level of soluble cytoplasmic tubulin is increased by drug-induced microtubule depolymerization (Sharma et al., 2011). During ciliary growth, kinesin-13 may depolymerize cell body microtubules in C. reinhardtii to provide tubulin for axonemal assembly (Wang et al., 2013). Remarkably, in cells possessing growing and nongrowing cilia, the frequency of IFT-based GFP-tubulin transport was strongly elevated in the growing over the nongrowing cilia. We conclude that a general increase in tubulin supply in the cell body is insufficient to explain the increase in IFT-based tubulin transport just into growing cilia of long-short cells. Our data suggest that tubulin import into cilia is regulated locally within the basal body–cilium entity. An increase in admission of tubulin to the cilium could involve a change in the transition zone (TZ), located between the basal body and the cilium proper. TZ proteins are hotspots for ciliopathy-related mutations which alter the protein composition of cilia, and the TZ is thought to function as a ciliary gate regulating protein entry into the organelle (Craige et al., 2010; Omran, 2010; Williams et al., 2011; Kee and Verhey, 2013). The TZ could respond to changes in the ciliary length by permitting IFT particles carrying a large load into growing cilia while preventing such particles from entering steady-state cilia. Such a model of size-based exclusion of IFT trains at the TZ would require the constant presence of both loaded and unloaded IFT particles. The share of IFT trains occupied with GFP-tubulin in nongrowing and growing cilia ranges from <10 to ∼80%, rendering this model unlikely.

Alternatively, cargo loading onto IFT particles could be regulated. Dikaryon experiments showed that IFT proteins from distinct basal body–cilia units mix rapidly (Wren et al., 2013). Therefore, an increase in cargo loading onto IFT must happen locally at the base of a growing cilium, for example, by increasing the affinity of IFT carriers for cargo proteins. In C. reinhardtii, IFT particle and motor proteins are concentrated at the transitional fibers, which are located proximal to the TZ (Deane et al., 2001). The transitional fibers could increase the local concentration of IFT and cargoes and thereby promote the formation of IFT–cargo complexes. The anterograde IFT motor subunit KAP is more abundant at the base of growing cilia (Ludington et al., 2013), which might suggest that transitional fibers at the base of growing cilia have a higher capacity to bind IFT material. We propose a model in which cells measure the length of their cilia; cilia of insufficient length generate a signal that alters the property of the ciliary base, resulting in an increased loading of IFT particles and/or facilitated admission of highly loaded IFT trains into the cilium, which will augment the amount of tubulin transported into the cilium in need (Fig. 7 B).

Ciliary length defects are associated with dysregulation of tubulin transport

Sensing of ciliary length is likely to involve various protein kinases whose mutations lead to length defects (Berman et al., 2003; Tam et al., 2007; Lefebvre, 2009; Cao et al., 2013; Tam et al., 2013). LF2p, for example, is a CDK kinase which, together with LF1p and LF3p, forms the length regulating complex (LRC;Tam et al., 2007). LF2p homologues are also involved in ciliary length control in mammals and C. elegans(Ko et al., 2010; Phirke et al., 2011). In lf2-1, the frequency of tubulin transport was largely independent of ciliary length and remained elevated in lf2-1 cilia that were longer than wild-type cilia. A failure to adjust tubulin transport with respect to ciliary length could explain the phenotype of lf2-1 characterized by slow regeneration kinetics, and variable ciliary length with some abnormally long cilia (Barsel et al., 1988). The LRC is located in the cell body of C. reinhardtii, but its molecular role is unknown (Tam et al., 2007). Based on its localization, the LRC could function in adjusting IFT-based tubulin transport in response to signals from the ciliary length sensor.

Shorter-than-normal cilia could result from a failure to incorporate precursors into the cilium, an increased disassembly rate, or an insufficient delivery of precursors. The latter was observed in the short flagella mutantshf2. Tubulin transport was down-regulated well before cilia reached wild-type length. The phosphorylation pattern of the aurora-like kinase CALK can be used as an indicator of the assembly state of cilia. At the onset of ciliary growth, phosphorylation and dephosphorylation occur at distinct sites, followed by a gradual return to a pattern characteristic for full-length steady-state cilia (Luo et al., 2011; Cao et al., 2013). shf2 displays a CALK phosphorylation state typical for short, growing cilia (Luo et al., 2011; Cao et al., 2013). This suggests that shf2 cells still sense the insufficient length of their cilia but fail to respond appropriately by maintaining a high tubulin influx via IFT.

In our study, we did not address the question of why the longer cilia of long-short cells retract. In those long cilia, tubulin transport via IFT—although well below that of short cilia—was actually somewhat above the steady-state levels (Fig. 4 C). Also, the breakdown of the axoneme is likely to increase the levels of soluble tubulin inside the shortening long cilia. Thus, ciliary shortening appears not to be driven by a shortage of tubulin, suggesting that the intraciliary tubulin concentration is not the sole factor regulating ciliary growth. We posit that the resorption involves an up-regulation of the cilia disassembly pathway in the long cilia. Putative players in the disassembly pathway are microtubule-destabilizing proteins such as kinesin-13 and CNK2. Mutants in the latter assemble the missing cilium of long-zero cells at normal rates but fail to resorb the remaining long cilium, supporting the notion that ciliary assembly and disassembly in long-short cells are distinctly regulated (Hilton et al., 2013).

IFT promotes ciliary growth by concentrating tubulin

GFP-tubulin enters cilia by both diffusion and IFT, raising the question of the respective roles in supplying tubulin for ciliary assembly. Tubulin dimers (110 kD) are above the predicted size exclusion limit of ∼50 kD for free diffusion of soluble protein into the cilium (Kee et al., 2012; Breslow et al., 2013). Distinct concentrations of soluble tubulin were observed in cilia of a given cell, indicating the absence of diffusive equilibration. We estimate (see Materials and methods) that the concentration of soluble tubulin in the ciliary matrix of growing cilia is higher than that in the cytoplasm; the absence of a cell body–to–cilia gradient in tubulin concentration rules out a net influx of tubulin into cilia by diffusion. In fla10-1, GFP-tubulin continued to enter cilia by diffusion in the absence of IFT but the cilia do not elongate. Similarly, ciliary elongation ceased in shf2 after IFT of GFP-tubulin was down-regulated despite the continued entry of GFP-tubulin by diffusion. We conclude that the entry of tubulin into cilia by diffusion is insufficient to provide enough tubulin to promote ciliary growth.

Tubulin concentration has a strong impact on microtubule growth in vitro and in vivo, with high concentrations of tubulin suppressing catastrophe frequency and increasing the polymerization rate (Pedigo and Williams, 2002). In the cytoplasm, proteins such as XMAP215 act as microtubule polymerases at MT plus ends putatively by increasing the local tubulin dimer concentration (Al-Bassam and Chang, 2011). Messages of specific tubulin isoforms are recruited to microtubule plus-ends in the axonal growth cone to locally increase tubulin expression (Preitner et al., 2014). In growing cilia, large amounts of tubulin released from IFT into the cilium will increase the concentration of soluble tubulin in the matrix. We noticed a reduced mobility of tubulin in the vicinity of the ciliary tip, which could result from tubulin interactions with other proteins; IFT proteins, for example, are typically accumulated at the ciliary tip and possess tubulin binding motifs (Bhogaraju et al., 2014b). Further, GFP-tubulin was predominately released from IFT near the ciliary tip; reduced mobility and preferred unloading could further increase the tubulin concentration locally at the tip.

We predict that the concentration of soluble tubulin in the matrix of growing cilia is in the range of 300 µM (see Materials and methods). Although some of the tubulin is sequestered onto IFT, the concentration is well above the concentrations (∼20 µM) required for microtubule assembly in vitro or in the cytoplasm. C. reinhardtii cilia elongate at ∼350 nm/min compared with 20–60 µm/min observed for microtubules in the cytoplasm (Srayko et al., 2005). However, during axonemal assembly, nine doublet microtubules and two singlet microtubules are assembled simultaneously within the comparably small volume of the cilium. About 2,500 dimers are required to elongate a singlet microtubule by 20 µm, whereas the assembly of 350 nm of 9+2 microtubules consumes ∼10,000 dimers. We estimate ∼18,000 dimers to be present in the matrix of a 4-µm-long cilium (see Materials and methods). Thus, soluble tubulin in the ciliary matrix will be rapidly consumed during ciliary growth and the matrix pool must be equally rapidly replenished to ensure continued elongation of the axoneme. A unifying feature of most cilia is doublet microtubules, the assembly of which has not yet been reconstituted in vitro and could require very high concentrations of tubulin dimers. In summary, due to its architecture and its position within the small volume of the cilium, axonemal assembly could require exceptionally high concentrations of soluble tubulin. Several IFT complex B proteins contain tubulin-binding motifs—confirmed and predicted—and estimates suggest that IFT has the capacity to transport tubulin in amounts required during ciliary assembly (Bhogaraju et al., 2014). Although additional factors are likely involved in determining the rate of ciliary elongation (most notably the rate of axoneme depolymerization), tubulin transport by IFT and the resulting high concentration of tubulin in the ciliary matrix are likely prerequisites for the rapid elongation of axonemal microtubules. We propose that IFT functions as a tubulin pump to increase the concentration of tubulin inside growing cilia. Higher tubulin concentrations will promote the growth of the axonemal microtubules and thereby elongation of the cilium.

Read Full Post »

Advances in acoustics and in learning

Larry H. Brnstein, MD, FCAP, Curator

LPBI

 

Controlling acoustic properties with algorithms and computational methods

http://www.kurzweilai.net/controlling-acoustic-properties-with-algorithms-and-computational-methods

October 28, 2015

Computer scientists at Columbia Engineering, Harvard, and MIT have demonstrated that acoustic properties — both sound and vibration — can be controlled by 3D-printing specific shapes.

They designed an optimization algorithm and used computational methods and digital fabrication to alter the shape of 2D and 3D objects, creating what looks to be a simple children’s musical instrument — a xylophone with keys in the shape of zoo animals.

Practical uses

“Our discovery could lead to a wealth of possibilities that go well beyond musical instruments,” says Changxi Zheng, assistant professor of computer science at Columbia Engineering, who led the research team.

“Our algorithm could lead to ways to build less noisy computer fans and bridges that don’t amplify vibrations under stress, and advance the construction of micro-electro-mechanical resonators whose vibration modes are of great importance.”

Zheng, who works in the area of dynamic, physics-based computational sound for immersive environments, wanted to see if he could use computation and digital fabrication to actively control the acoustical property, or vibration, of an object.

Zheng’s team decided to focus on simplifying the slow, complicated, manual process of designing “idiophones” — musical instruments that produce sounds through vibrations in the instrument itself, not through strings or reeds.

The surface vibration and resulting sounds depend on the idiophone’s shape in a complex way, so designing the shapes to obtain desired sound characteristics is not straightforward, and their forms have so far been limited to well-understood designs such as bars that are tuned by careful drilling of dimples on the underside of the instrument.

Optimizing sound properties

To demonstrate their new technique, the team settled on building a “zoolophone,” a metallophone with playful animal shapes (a metallophone is an idiophone made of tuned metal bars that can be struck to make sound, such as a glockenspiel).

 

What happens in the brain when we learn

http://www.kurzweilai.net/what-happens-in-the-brain-when-we-learn

Findings could enhance teaching methods and lead to treatments for cognitive problems
October 28, 2015

A Johns Hopkins University-led research team has proven a working theory that explains what happens in the brain when we learn, as described in the current issue of the journal Neuron.

More than a century ago, Pavlov figured out that dogs fed after hearing a bell eventually began to salivate when they heard the bell ring. The team looked into the question of how Pavlov’s dogs (in “classical conditioning”) managed to associate an action with a delayed reward to create knowledge. For decades, scientists had a working theory of how it happened, but the team is now the first to prove it.

“If you’re trying to train a dog to sit, the initial neural stimuli, the command, is gone almost instantly — it lasts as long as the word sit,” said neuroscientist Alfredo Kirkwood, a professor with the university’s Zanvyl Krieger Mind/Brain Institute. “Before the reward comes, the dog’s brain has already turned to other things. The mystery was, ‘How does the brain link an action that’s over in a fraction of a second with a reward that doesn’t come until much later?’ ”

Eligibility traces

The working theory — which Kirkwood’s team has now validated experimentally — is that invisible “synaptic eligibility traces” effectively tag the synapses activated by the stimuli so that the learning can be cemented with the arrival of a reward. The reward is a neuromodulator* (neurochemical) that floods the dog’s brain with “good feelings.” Though the brain has long since processed the “sit” command, eligibility traces in the synapse respond to the neuromodulators, prompting a lasting synaptic change, a.k.a. “learning.”

The team was able to prove the eligibility-traces theory by isolating cells in the visual cortex of a mouse. When they stimulated the axon of one cell with an electrical impulse, they sparked a response in another cell. By doing this repeatedly, they mimicked the synaptic response between two cells as they process a stimulus and create an eligibility trace.

When the researchers later flooded the cells with neuromodulators, simulating the arrival of a delayed reward, the response between the cells strengthened (“long-term potentiation”) or weakened (“long-term depression”), showing that the cells had “learned” and were able to do so because of the eligibility trace.

“This is the basis of how we learn things through reward,” Kirkwood said, “a fundamental aspect of learning.”

In addition to a greater understanding of the mechanics of learning, these findings could enhance teaching methods and lead to treatments for cognitive problems, the researchers suggest.

Scientists at the University of Texas at Houston and the University of California, Davis were also involved in the research, which was supported by grants from JHU’s Science of Learning Institute and National Institutes of Health.

* The neuromodulators tested were norepinephrine, serotonin, dopamine, and acetylcholine, all of which have been implicated in cortical plasticity (ability to grow and form new connections to other neurons).


Abstract of Distinct Eligibility Traces for LTP and LTD in Cortical Synapses

In reward-based learning, synaptic modifications depend on a brief stimulus and a temporally delayed reward, which poses the question of how synaptic activity patterns associate with a delayed reward. A theoretical solution to this so-called distal reward problem has been the notion of activity-generated “synaptic eligibility traces,” silent and transient synaptic tags that can be converted into long-term changes in synaptic strength by reward-linked neuromodulators. Here we report the first experimental demonstration of eligibility traces in cortical synapses. We demonstrate the Hebbian induction of distinct traces for LTP and LTD and their subsequent timing-dependent transformation into lasting changes by specific monoaminergic receptors anchored to postsynaptic proteins. Notably, the temporal properties of these transient traces allow stable learning in a recurrent neural network that accurately predicts the timing of the reward, further validating the induction and transformation of eligibility traces for LTP and LTD as a plausible synaptic substrate for reward-based learning.

 

Holographic sonic tractor beam lifts and moves objects using soundwaves

Another science-fiction idea realized
October 27, 2015

British researchers have built a working Star-Trek-style “tractor beam” — a device that can attract or repel one object to another from a distance. It uses high-amplitude soundwaves to generate an acoustic hologram that can grasp and move small objects.

The technique, published in an open-access paper in Nature Communications October 27, has a wide range of potential applications, the researchers say. A sonic production line could transport delicate objects and assemble them, all without physical contact. Or a miniature version could grip and transport drug capsules or microsurgical instruments through living tissue.

The device was developed at the Universities of Sussex and Bristol in collaboration with Ultrahaptics.

https://youtu.be/wDzhlW-rKvM
University of Sussex | Levitation using sound waves

The researchers used an array of 64 miniature loudspeakers. The whole system consumes just 9 Watts of power, used to create high-pitched (40Khz), high-intensity sound waves to levitate a spherical bead 4mm in diameter made of expanded polystyrene.

The tractor beam works by surrounding the object with high-intensity sound to create a force field that keeps the objects in place. By carefully controlling the output of the loudspeakers, the object can be held in place, moved, or rotated.

Three different shapes of acoustic force fields work as tractor beams: an acoustic force field that resembles a pair of fingers or tweezers; an acoustic vortex, the objects becoming trapped at the core; and a high-intensity “cage” that surrounds the objects and holds them in place from all directions.

Previous attempts surrounded the object with loudspeakers, which limits the extent of movement and restricts many applications. Last year, the University of Dundee presented the concept of a tractor beam, but no objects were held in the ray.

The team is now designing different variations of this system. A bigger version aims at levitating a soccer ball from 10 meters away and a smaller version aims at manipulating particles inside the human body.

https://youtu.be/g_EM1y4MKSc
Asier Marzo, Matt Sutton, Bruce Drinkwater and Sriram Subramanian | Acoustic holograms are projected from a flat surface and contrary to traditional holograms, they exert considerable forces on the objects contained within. The acoustic holograms can be updated in real time to translate, rotate and combine levitated particles enabling unprecedented contactless manipulators such as tractor beams.


Abstract of Holographic acoustic elements for manipulation of levitated objects

Sound can levitate objects of different sizes and materials through air, water and tissue. This allows us to manipulate cells, liquids, compounds or living things without touching or contaminating them. However, acoustic levitation has required the targets to be enclosed with acoustic elements or had limited maneuverability. Here we optimize the phases used to drive an ultrasonic phased array and show that acoustic levitation can be employed to translate, rotate and manipulate particles using even a single-sided emitter. Furthermore, we introduce the holographic acoustic elements framework that permits the rapid generation of traps and provides a bridge between optical and acoustical trapping. Acoustic structures shaped as tweezers, twisters or bottles emerge as the optimum mechanisms for tractor beams or containerless transportation. Single-beam levitation could manipulate particles inside our body for applications in targeted drug delivery or acoustically controlled micro-machines that do not interfere with magnetic resonance imaging.

 

A drug-delivery technique to bypass the blood-brain barrier

http://www.kurzweilai.net/a-drug-delivery-technique-to-bypass-the-blood-brain-barrier

Could benefit a large population of patients with neurodegenerative disorders
October 26, 2015

Researchers at Massachusetts Eye and Ear/Harvard Medical School and Boston University have developed a new technique to deliver drugs across the blood-brain barrier and have successfully tested it in a Parkinson’s mouse model (a line of mice that has been genetically modified to express the symptoms and pathological features of Parkinson’s to various extents).

Their findings, published in the journal Neurosurgery, lend hope to patients with neurological conditions that are difficult to treat due to a barrier mechanism that prevents approximately 98 percent of drugs from reaching the brain and central nervous system.

“Although we are currently looking at neurodegenerative disease, there is potential for the technology to be expanded to psychiatric diseases, chronic pain, seizure disorders, and many other conditions affecting the brain and nervous system down the road,” said senior author Benjamin S. Bleier, M.D., of the department of otolaryngology at Mass. Eye and Ear/Harvard Medical School.

The nasal mucosal grafting solution

Researchers delivered glial derived neurotrophic factor (GDNF), a therapeutic protein in testing for treating Parkinson’s disease, to the brains of mice. They showed that their delivery method was equivalent to direct injection of GDNF, which has been shown to delay and even reverse disease progression of Parkinson’s disease in pre-clinical models.

Once they have finished the treatment, they use adjacent nasal lining to rebuild the hole in a permanent and safe way. Nasal mucosal grafting is a technique regularly used in the ENT (ear, nose, and throat) field to reconstruct the barrier around the brain after surgery to the skull base. ENT surgeons commonly use endoscopic approaches to remove brain tumors through the nose by making a window through the blood-brain barrier to access the brain.

The safety and efficacy of these methods have been well established through long-term clinical outcomes studies in the field, with the nasal lining protecting the brain from infection just as the blood brain barrier has done.

By functionally replacing a section of the blood-brain barrier with nasal mucosa, which is more than 1,000 times more permeable than the native barrier, surgeons could create a “screen door” to allow for drug delivery to the brain and central nervous system.

The technique has the potential to benefit a large population of patients with neurodegenerative disorders, where there is still a specific unmet need for blood-brain-penetrating therapeutic delivery strategies.

The study was funded by The Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research (MJFF).


Abstract of Heterotopic Mucosal Grafting Enables the Delivery of Therapeutic Neuropeptides Across the Blood Brain Barrier

BACKGROUND: The blood-brain barrier represents a fundamental limitation in treating neurological disease because it prevents all neuropeptides from reaching the central nervous system (CNS). Currently, there is no efficient method to permanently bypass the blood-brain barrier.

OBJECTIVE: To test the feasibility of using nasal mucosal graft reconstruction of arachnoid defects to deliver glial-derived neurotrophic factor (GDNF) for the treatment of Parkinson disease in a mouse model.

METHODS: The Institutional Animal Care and Use Committee approved this study in an established murine 6-hydroxydopamine Parkinson disease model. A parietal craniotomy and arachnoid defect was repaired with a heterotopic donor mucosal graft. The therapeutic efficacy of GDNF (2 [mu]g/mL) delivered through the mucosal graft was compared with direct intrastriatal GDNF injection (2 [mu]g/mL) and saline control through the use of 2 behavioral assays (rotarod and apomorphine rotation). An immunohistological analysis was further used to compare the relative preservation of substantia nigra cell bodies between treatment groups.

RESULTS: Transmucosal GDNF was equivalent to direct intrastriatal injection at preserving motor function at week 7 in both the rotarod and apomorphine rotation behavioral assays. Similarly, both transmucosal and intrastriatal GDNF demonstrated an equivalent ratio of preserved substantia nigra cell bodies (0.79 +/- 0.14 and 0.78 +/- 0.09, respectively, P = NS) compared with the contralateral control side, and both were significantly greater than saline control (0.53 +/- 0.21; P = .01 and P = .03, respectively).

CONCLUSION: Transmucosal delivery of GDNF is equivalent to direct intrastriatal injection at ameliorating the behavioral and immunohistological features of Parkinson disease in a murine model. Mucosal grafting of arachnoid defects is a technique commonly used for endoscopic skull base reconstruction and may represent a novel method to permanently bypass the blood-brain barrier.

 

Creating an artificial sense of touch by electrical stimulation of the brain

http://www.kurzweilai.net/creating-an-artificial-sense-of-touch-by-electrical-stimulation-of-the-brain

DARPA-funded study may lead to building prosthetic limbs for humans using a direct brain-electrode interface to recreate the sense of touch
October 26, 2015

Neuroscientists in a project headed by the University of Chicago have determined some of the specific characteristics of electrical stimuli that should be applied to the brain to produce different sensations in an artificial upper limb intended to restore natural motor control and sensation in amputees.

The research is part of Revolutionizing Prosthetics, a multi-year Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA).

For this study, the researchers used monkeys, whose sensory systems closely resemble those of humans. They implanted electrodes into the primary somatosensory cortex, the area of the brain that processes touch information from the hand. The animals were trained to perform two perceptual tasks: one in which they detected the presence of an electrical stimulus, and a second task in which they indicated which of two successive stimuli was more intense.

The sense of touch is made up of a complex and nuanced set of sensations, from contact and pressure to texture, vibration and movement. The goal of the research is to document the range, composition and specific increments of signals that create sensations that feel different from each other.

To achieve that, the researchers manipulated various features of the electrical pulse train, such as its amplitude, frequency, and duration, and noted how the interaction of each of these factors affected the animals’ ability to detect the signal.

Of specific interest were the “just-noticeable differences” (JND),” — the incremental changes needed to produce a sensation that felt different. For instance, at a certain frequency, the signal may be detectable first at a strength of 20 microamps of electricity. If the signal has to be increased to 50 microamps to notice a difference, the JND in that case is 30 microamps.*

“When you grasp an object, for example, you can hold it with different grades of pressure. To recreate a realistic sense of touch, you need to know how many grades of pressure you can convey through electrical stimulation,” said Sliman Bensmaia, PhD, Associate Professor in the Department of Organismal Biology and Anatomy at the University of Chicago and senior author of the study, which was published today (Oct. 26) in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. “Ideally, you can have the same dynamic range for artificial touch as you do for natural touch.”

“This study gets us to the point where we can actually create real algorithms that work. It gives us the parameters as to what we can achieve with artificial touch, and brings us one step closer to having human-ready algorithms.”

Researchers from the University of Pittsburgh and Johns Hopkins University were also involved in the DARPA-supported study.

* The study also has important scientific implications beyond neuroprosthetics. In natural perception, a principle known as Weber’s Law states that the just-noticeable difference between two stimuli is proportional to the size of the stimulus. For example, with a 100-watt light bulb, you might be able to detect a difference in brightness by increasing its power to 110 watts. The JND in that case is 10 watts. According to Weber’s Law, if you double the power of the light bulb to 200 watts, the JND would also be doubled to 20 watts.

However, Bensmaia’s research shows that with electrical stimulation of the brain, Weber’s Law does not apply — the JND remains nearly constant, no matter the size of the stimulus. This means that the brain responds to electrical stimulation in a much more repeatable, consistent way than through natural stimulation.

“It shows that there is something fundamentally different about the way the brain responds to electrical stimulation than it does to natural stimulation,” Bensmaia said.


Abstract of Behavioral assessment of sensitivity to intracortical microstimulation of primate somatosensory cortex

Intracortical microstimulation (ICMS) is a powerful tool to investigate the functional role of neural circuits and may provide a means to restore sensation for patients for whom peripheral stimulation is not an option. In a series of psychophysical experiments with nonhuman primates, we investigate how stimulation parameters affect behavioral sensitivity to ICMS. Specifically, we deliver ICMS to primary somatosensory cortex through chronically implanted electrode arrays across a wide range of stimulation regimes. First, we investigate how the detectability of ICMS depends on stimulation parameters, including pulse width, frequency, amplitude, and pulse train duration. Then, we characterize the degree to which ICMS pulse trains that differ in amplitude lead to discriminable percepts across the range of perceptible and safe amplitudes. We also investigate how discriminability of pulse amplitude is modulated by other stimulation parameters—namely, frequency and duration. Perceptual judgments obtained across these various conditions will inform the design of stimulation regimes for neuroscience and neuroengineering applications.

references:

  • Sungshin Kim, Thierri Callier, Gregg A. Tabot, Robert A. Gaunt, Francesco V. Tenore, and Sliman J. Bensmaia. Behavioral assessment of sensitivity to intracortical microstimulation of primate somatosensory cortex. PNAS 2015; doi:10.1073/pnas.1509265112

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »