I still, on occasion, use Felbatol (felbamate).
Thirty years since its explosive entrance to the market, then even more explosive collapse, it remains, in my opinion, the most effective of the second generation of anti-seizure medications. Arguably, even more effective than any of the third generation, too.
That’s not to say I use a lot of it. I don’t. It’s like handling unstable dynamite. Tremendous power, but also an above-average degree of risk. Even after things hit the fan with it in the mid-90s, I remember one of my epilepsy clinic attendings telling me, “This is a home-run drug. In refractory patients you might see some benefit by adding another agent, but with this one, you could stop their seizures and hit it out of the park.”
Like most neurologists, I use other epilepsy options first and second line. But sometimes you get the patient who’s failed the usual ones. Then I start to think about Felbatol. I explain the situation to the patients and their families and let them make the final decision. I worry and watch labs very closely for a while. I probably have no more than three to five patients on it in the practice. But when it works, it’s amazing stuff.
Now, let’s jump ahead to 2021. The year of Aduhelm (and several similar agents racing up behind it).
None of these drugs are even close to hitting home runs. For that matter, I’m not convinced they’re even able to get a man on base. To stretch my baseball analogy a bit, imagine watching a game by looking only at the RBI and ERA stats changing. The numbers change slightly, but you have no evidence that either team is winning. Which is, after all, the whole point.
And, to some extent, that’s the basis of Aduhelm’s approval, and likely the same standards its competitors will be held to.
Although they treat different conditions, and are chemically unrelated, the similarities between Felbatol and the currently advancing bunch of monoclonal antibody (MAB) agents for Alzheimer’s disease make an interesting contrast.
Unlike Felbatol’s proven efficacy for epilepsy, the current MABs offer minimal statistically significant clinical benefit for Alzheimer’s disease. At the same time the risk of amyloid-related imaging abnormalities (ARIA) and its complications with them is significantly higher than that of either of Felbatol’s known, potentially lethal, idiosyncratic effects.
With those odds,In medicine, every day is an exercise in working through the risks and benefits of each patient’s individual situation.
As I’ve stated before, I’m not in the grandstand rooting for these Alzheimer’s drugs to fail. I’ve lost a few family members, and certainly my share of patients, to dementia. I’d be thrilled, and more than willing to prescribe it, if something truly effective came along for it.
Nor do I take any kind of pleasure in the recent news that, because of Aduhelm’s failings, around 1,000 Biogen employees will lose their jobs. I feel terrible for them, as most had nothing to do with the decision to forge ahead with the product. More may soon follow at other companies working with similar agents.
Here we are, though, going into 2022. I’m still, albeit rarely, writing for Felbatol 30 years after it came to market for one reason: It works. But it seems pretty unlikely that future neurologists in 2052 will say the same about the current crops of MABs for Alzheimer’s disease.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.