23 dic 2009 @ 2:30 PM 

Nature Reviews Molecular Cell Biology 8, 692-702 (September 2007) | doi:10.1038/nrm2238

Focus on: Ageing

The role of nuclear architecture in genomic instability and ageing

Philipp Oberdoerffer1 & David A. Sinclair1 About the authors

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Eukaryotes come in many shapes and sizes, yet one thing that they all seem to share is a decline in vitality and health over time — a process known as ageing. If there are conserved causes of ageing, they may be traced back to common biological structures that are inherently difficult to maintain throughout life. One such structure is chromatin, the DNA–protein complex that stabilizes the genome and dictates gene expression. Studies in the budding yeast Saccharomyces cerevisiae have pointed to chromatin reorganization as a main contributor to ageing in that species, which raises the possibility that similar processes underlie ageing in more complex organisms.

Chromosomes are arguably the most difficult structures a cell has to maintain over a lifetime. The DNA in each chromosome experiences thousands of chemical alterations and DNA breaks in a single day, and the information each encodes requires strict regulation to maintain cellular identity and function. To manage these tasks, eukaryotes have evolved a complex packaging system known as chromatin, in which DNA is wrapped around a protein core of four different histone dimers and forms a nucleosome, the basic building block of chromatin. Recent studies have indicated that chromatin is a highly dynamic form of nuclear organization that influences DNA stability and gene-expression patterns1, 2. The level of chromatin compaction can be modulated through the chemical modification of histones (Box 1) or of DNA. The more densely the nucleosomes are packed, the more protected is the DNA from chromosomal damage3, but the less accessible it is for transcription2. Highly compacted, transcriptionally silent chromatin is known as heterochromatin, whereas more accessible chromatin is known as euchromatin (Box 2).

Unfortunately, the eukaryotic system of DNA packaging is not immune to the ravages of time. All eukaryotes, including humans, experience changes in chromatin organization and gene-expression patterns as they age. In the late 1990s, a few researchers proposed that changes in chromatin organization underlie ageing-related changes in gene expression and the ageing process4, 5. Changes in gene expression were already known to contribute to cellular senescence6, a possible cause of ageing7, and may provide an explanation for the age-related decline in organ and tissue function in complex organisms.

Although chromatin reorganization was linked to ageing in budding yeast over 10 years ago8, 9, these ideas have remained untested. Recently, a growing appreciation for the importance of chromatin in regulating gene expression and maintaining genomic integrity in complex organisms has reinvigorated interest in the link between chromatin alterations and ageing. In the past 10 years, advances in nuclear imaging technologies have revealed a high level of chromatin organization that is known as the nuclear architecture. In fact, genes from different chromosomes are often in close physical proximity and form discrete foci dubbed transcription factories, which help to orchestrate their transcription and organize the genome in the three-dimensional nuclear space (reviewed in Ref. 10).

The long-term maintenance of the nuclear architecture is vital for the normal functioning of cells and tissues over a lifetime. The dramatic effect of a disturbed nuclear architecture is exemplified by Hutchinson–Gilford progeria syndrome (HGPS), in which a mutation that disrupts the nuclear architecture leads to a disease with symptoms that resemble aspects of normal human ageing, such as loss of hair, restricted joint mobility and atherosclerosis11. Even cells from normal individuals undergo significant nuclear architecture changes in response to stress12, and there are early hints that normal human ageing is associated with alterations in nuclear architecture13.

In this review, we discuss the causes and consequences of changes in nuclear architecture with age. We focus on the role of epigenetic gene regulation during the ageing process, with an emphasis on drawing parallels between observations in yeast and mammals. We propose that a conserved DNA-damage response induces cumulative changes in chromatin structure and nuclear architecture that are important driving forces behind the inexorable changes that occur in organisms over time. These changes include a decline in genomic integrity, alterations in gene transcription and a loss of vitality — the series of changes we commonly refer to as ageing.

Heterochromatin alterations in yeast

In the 1990s, a series of discoveries in the budding yeast Saccharomyces cerevisiae identified a mechanistic link between epigenetic silencing and ageing. The replicative age of a yeast cell is the number of offspring it produces before undergoing senescence
(approx23–30). Like in all eukaryotes, heterochromatin in yeast serves two main purposes: it maintains certain genes (such as the yeast mating-type loci) in a silent state through cell division, and it stabilizes the highly repetitive parts of the genome (the telomeres and ribosomal DNA (rDNA)), preventing them from recombining, fusing and breaking. Accordingly, yeast cells that lack crucial heterochromatin factors are infertile because both types of mating-type genes are expressed concurrently. Furthermore, telomeres become extremely short and tend to fuse, which causes major problems during cell division (reviewed in Ref. 14).

Sir2 mediates heterochromatin formation. One of the key regulators of yeast heterochromatin is Sir2 (silent information regulator-2), an NAD+-dependent histone deacetylase that predominately removes acetyl groups from Lys16 of histone H4 (Ref. 15). At the mating-type genes and telomeres, Sir2 interacts with its structural partners Sir3 and Sir4 (Refs 16, 86), which regulate and direct its deacetylase activity. Binding of the Sir4–Sir2 heterodimer to DNA nucleates DNA silencing by recruiting Sir3 to form the Sir complex. Driven by Sir2-dependent histone deacetylation, the Sir complex promotes heterochromatin formation by spreading along chromatin through cycles of recruitment of other Sir complexes86.

At the rDNA locus, Sir2 is a crucial component of a network of protein–protein interactions that regulate both silencing and DNA stability. In all eukaryotes, rDNA is organized as one or more arrays that contain 100–10,000 repeating units that are sequestered in the nucleolus. It is the highly repetitive nature of the rDNA that renders it particularly susceptible to recombination. The control of rDNA stability in yeast is well understood. Yeast rDNA is silenced and stabilized by the regulator of nucleolar silencing and telophase exit (RENT) complex, which consists of Sir2, Net1 and Cdc14 in a 1:1:1 ratio. Net1 recruits Sir2 to the rDNA17, where it forms a complex with, and thereby sequesters, the Cdc14 phosphatase. Cdc14 is involved in cell-cycle regulation and is kept inactive while in the RENT complex18, 19. Whether it also has a role in rDNA silencing remains unclear.

The first clear genetic link between heterochromatic silencing and ageing came from a genetic screen that isolated a gain-of-function mutation in SIR4, known as SIR4-42 (Refs 8, 20). SIR4-42 generates a truncated Sir4 protein, which cannot bind to telomeres and mating-type genes, thus abolishing silencing at these loci. The mutant Sir4 protein targets a greater amount of Sir2 and Sir3 to the nucleolus, which, in turn, correlates with an increase in mean lifespan by approx40%. Thus, recruitment of Sir4 to the nucleolus early in life seems to slow ageing and extend lifespan. Examination of wild-type yeast cells showed that the redistribution of Sir proteins to the nucleolus is not limited to mutant Sir4, but reflects a normal process during yeast ageing8, albeit one that occurs later in life than in a SIR4-42 mutant.

Around the same time as the characterization of SIR4-42, a study of the yeast WRN homologue also pointed to the nucleolus as an important site that influences ageing. In humans, loss-of-function mutations in the human WRN gene cause Werner syndrome (WS), a progeroid disease that mimics many aspects of normal ageing including atherosclerosis, diabetes and dramatically aged skin by age 40. WRN and its yeast homologue SGS1 encode RecQ DNA helicases that function in DNA repair and recombination21, 22. In the absence of RecQ helicases, genomes are highly unstable, especially at repetitive loci. Deletion of SGS1 results in hyper-recombination at the rDNA and premature ageing that is associated with the relocalization of Sir3 to the nucleolus, which becomes dramatically enlarged and fragmented23(Fig. 1a). Taken together, these findings suggest that the relocalization of chromatin-modifying proteins is a normal event during yeast ageing and can have a dramatic effect on genomic stability and lifespan.

Figure 1 | Comparison of age-related changes in nuclear architecture between yeast and mammalian cells.

Figure 1 : Comparison of age-related changes in nuclear architecture between yeast and mammalian cells. Unfortunately we are unable to provide accessible alternative text for this. If you require assistance to access this image, or to obtain a text description, please contact npg@nature.coma | Schematic of accelerated ageing (top) and normal ageing (bottom) in a replicating yeast nucleus. In young yeast cells, telomeres, mating-type loci (MATa and MATalpha) and ribosomal DNA (rDNA; orange) are silenced by silent information regulator-2 (Sir2)-containing complexes (purple circles). In wild-type yeast, homologous recombination at the highly repetitive rDNA locus generates extrachromosomal rDNA circles (ERCs) during cell division. Lack of the DNA helicase Sgs1 causes genomic instability at the rDNA and leads to increased ERC formation, accelerated changes in nuclear architecture and premature ageing23 (top). Sites of DNA damage and both ERCs and rDNA recruit components of the Sir2-silencing complex, causing a loss of silencing at telomeres and mating-type loci (green represents areas of transcriptional derepression). b | Changes in nuclear architecture of human cells in a model of accelerated ageing (top) and normal ageing (bottom). Young cells show dense, transcriptionally inaccessible perinuclear heterochromatin surrounding less densely packed, transcriptionally active euchromatin. Grey circles represent sites of facultative heterochromatin and blue ovals depict constitutive, perinuclear heterochromatin (Box 2). In Hutchinson–Gilford progeria syndrome (HGPS), a defect in the nuclear lamina component lamin A leads to an accelerated loss of pericentromeric heterochromatin and concomitant changes in nuclear architecture that are accompanied by transcriptional deregulation13, 58, 59 (green areas). Similar changes have been observed during normal ageing. Cellular stress can cause the formation of repressed senescence-associated heterochromatin foci (SAHFs)12.


The yeast findings raised an intriguing question: how does the nucleolus affect ageing? In 1997, ageing of yeast was shown to stem from the inherent instability of rDNA9. rDNA is highly repetitive and therefore prone to homologous recombination. Recombination between rDNA sequences results in the excision of a single circular molecule of DNA (an extrachromosomal rDNA circle (ERC)) that is replicated during S phase. Roughly 12 divisions later, the nucleus becomes packed with >1,000 ERCs that cause cell death, presumably by titrating essential proteins from the rest of the genome9. In young yeast cells, these recombination events are controlled by Sir2, which directly binds to the rDNA and deacetylates the surrounding histones, resulting in chromatin compaction and rDNA stabilization.

This discovery provided a direct link between heterochromatin and ageing and led to a testable prediction. Decreasing heterochromatin at the rDNA locus should accelerate ageing, whereas increasing it should extend lifespan. This hypothesis was confirmed by manipulating SIR2: deletion of the SIR2 gene led to a loss of rDNA silencing, elevated rDNA recombination and accelerated ageing, whereas integration of an extra copy of the SIR2 gene increased rDNA silencing, suppressed rDNA recombination and extended lifespan by 30%17.

Heterochromatin reorganizes in response to DNA damage. Why does Sir protein redistribution occur during ageing? The answer may come from the growing appreciation of the importance of chromatin in maintaining genomic stability and facilitating DNA repair. During the DNA-repair process, chromatin needs to be unpacked and reassembled, which has an important influence on the rate and type of repair. One possibility is that the relocalization of Sir proteins is an active defence process that the cell initiates to stabilize its DNA.

In 1999, four studies showed that a single DNA break is sufficient to illicit a DNA-damage-checkpoint response that releases Sir proteins from mating-type loci and telomeres and relocalizes them to the DNA break, possibly to facilitate the repair process24, 25, 26, 27. Indeed, genomic DNA from SIR2 mutants was shown to be more susceptible to cutting by an endogenously expressed EcoRI endonuclease25. However, no defect in DNA end-joining was observed using a plasmid-based assay26, a discrepancy that may be explained by the lack of chromatin on plasmid DNA. This finding fits with the observation of Tyler and colleagues, who found that Sir2 and other histone deacetylases modify the chromatin that surrounds the break site in a temporally coordinated manner, which appears to be a prerequisite of efficient repair28. We refer to this process as the relocalization of chromatin-modifying factors (RCM) response (Fig. 1a).

The damage-mediated relocalization of Sir proteins appears to have little effect on long-term genomic silencing patterns in young yeast cells. However, the accumulation of DNA damage and increased rDNA instability in old yeast cells eventually leads to a chronic RCM response, alterations in silencing and irreversible genomic changes. A role for DNA damage in age-related genomic instability has also been reported for loci other than the rDNA. DNA-break-induced loss of heterozygosity at artificially generated heterozygous loci was found to increase dramatically with age and, depending on the locus, was aggravated in the absence of Sir2 (Ref. 29), again indicating a protective role for heterochromatin. Both increased susceptibility to DNA damage and an accumulation of defective DNA-repair enzymes might explain how ageing can promote this global genomic instability.

Nuclear changes in ageing mammals

How do these findings in yeast relate to what is known about the role of heterochromatin and epigenetic silencing in mammals? Although the human genome and human ageing exceed the yeast model in complexity, the yeast studies may help us to understand fundamental processes that govern conserved aspects of ageing. Indeed, changes in heterochromatin composition and structure with age have been reported in several species including humans.

Lessons from human progeroid syndromes. WS, HGPS and ataxia telangiectasia (AT) are rare genetic premature ageing disorders that demonstrate both the dramatic consequences of defects in nuclear architecture and the diverse sets of genes that are involved in its maintenance. As mentioned above, WS is characterized by a genome that is highly unstable owing to the lack of functional RecQ helicase22. HGPS shows similarities to WS but proceeds more rapidly11. One known cause of HGPS is a single base change in the LMNA gene, which encodes lamin A, an essential structural component of the nuclear membrane30. The mutant LMNA gene generates a truncated splice variant that disturbs the structure of the nuclear membrane and causes large changes in the nuclear architecture. Nuclei from patients with HGPS are characterized by a dysmorphic shape and a loss of heterochromatin-related proteins that are associated with the nuclear membrane, such as heterochromatin protein-1 (HP1), as well as altered histone-modification patterns that reflect a general disturbance in silent heterochromatin (Fig. 1b). Interference with aberrant LMNA splicing can reverse the structural defects that are typical for HGPS in cell culture, which demonstrates a direct causal relationship between the LMNA gene and HGPS31. The truncated LMNA splice variant has also been found in naturally old humans, which implicates changes in lamin A in the normal ageing process13. A conserved role for lamin A in the ageing process is consistent with the recent finding that neuronal cells in the nematode Caenorhabditis elegans also show changes in the nuclear architecture in aged animals, and a loss-of-function mutation in the worm orthologue of lamin A causes a decrease in life expectancy32.

Like WS and HGPS, AT is characterized by a defective nuclear architecture, progressive neurological degeneration, growth retardation, genomic instability and premature ageing33. Patients with AT have an inherited defect in the AT mutated (ATM) gene, which encodes a protein kinase that initiates the DNA-repair cascade. DNA repair and ATM in particular seem to be required for telomere maintenance34, 35, and defective ATM can disturb the interactions between telomeres and the nuclear matrix34. The contribution of this effect on AT pathology remains unclear and is complicated by the range of defects that are observed in ATM-defective cells. The yeast ATM orthologue Tel1 has also been linked to telomere maintenance36, which further suggests that pathways that are involved in the maintenance of nuclear architecture are highly conserved.

Chromatin-structure changes and epigenetic silencing. Changes in nuclear architecture do not appear to be restricted to defects in the structural components of the nucleus. An age-related loss of epigenetic silencing at certain repetitive elements was reported almost 20 years ago. Specifically, the major satellite repeats that form heterochromatic chromatin structures around the centromeres of every chromosome were shown to be more transcriptionally active in aged cardiac tissue, which suggests a progressive loss of silencing of these elements37. Given the number of repetitive elements in mammalian genomes, a reduction in repeat-associated heterochromatin would be consistent with significant changes in nuclear architecture. Shen et al. recently reported a possible mechanistic link between mammalian ageing and changes in heterochromatin38. Older individuals show altered activity in their histone-modifying enzymes, which causes a loss of perinuclear heterochromatin and concomitant changes in gene expression. These observations are reminiscent of the chromatin changes that occur during yeast ageing and in HGPS, and raise the possibility that changes in perinuclear architecture contribute to normal ageing in mammals (Fig. 1b).

Numerous other epigenetic changes in nuclear architecture and gene expression have been associated with ageing. More than a decade ago, Imai and colleagues showed that collagenase, a gene associated with cellular ageing, is differentially regulated during cellular senescence — a phenomenon that is often referred to as cellular ageing39. This effect appears to be due to changes in the subnuclear localization of the collagenase gene as cells undergo senescence. In young cells, the collagenase gene is repressed by the transcription factor OCT1. A considerable proportion of OCT1 was found in the heterochromatic nuclear periphery, where it colocalized with lamin B, a component of the nuclear membrane. This interaction was abrogated in senescent cells and, concomitantly, collagenase repression was lost39. On the basis of these findings, the authors proposed a model of age-associated heterochromatin reorganization that would account for such transcriptional changes in a global manner5.

This idea gained support from recent studies of cellular senescence, most notably by Lowe and colleagues, who found that senescence is associated with an overall increase in non-pericentromeric, facultative heterochromatin domains, known as senescence-associated heterochromatin foci (SAHFs; Fig. 1b)12. SAHFs form repressive chromatin structures that can be found at, but are not limited to, promoter regions of certain cell-cycle regulators, in particular target promoters of the cell-cycle regulator E2F. This finding led to the hypothesis that SAHFs promote senescence through direct repression of growth-promoting genes. Although the repression of cell-cycle regulators is an important function of SAHFs during cellular senescence, the frequency and distribution of these foci suggests a much broader impact of SAHFs. This notion is further supported by the finding that the formation of SAHFs appears to rely on the recruitment of proteins from promyelocytic leukaemia nuclear bodies40, which have been implicated in numerous cellular processes including transcriptional regulation, apoptosis and cellular defence in response to stress (most notably to DNA damage41).

A connection between senescence-associated heterochromatin formation and mammalian ageing has recently been made using baboon skin fibroblasts42. Tissue from older individuals accumulates cells containing heterochromatic foci that are reminiscent of SAHFs in senescent cells. These foci were found in >15% of the total cell population in aged tissues, which suggests that a significant fraction of aged tissue may be expressing markers of senescence and undergoing large-scale heterochromatic changes. Importantly, the emergence of heterochromatin foci occurred simultaneously with telomere shortening, which points to a shift from stable, perinuclear heterochromatin to induced, or facultative, heterochromatin. These studies raise the intriguing possibility that the age-associated loss of genomic silencing detected in previous studies may be linked to, or caused by, the formation of SAHF-like heterochromatic foci, a phenomenon reminiscent of the RCM response that occurs in yeast in response to DNA damage and ageing. However, it is important to keep in mind that cellular senescence — although it is a likely contributor to cancer and organismal ageing — does not equal the complex physiological processes that, together, define what is called ageing. The relevance of the aforementioned findings to the functional decline of higher organisms remains to be elucidated.

Changes in epigenetic gene regulation

In yeast, the redistribution of chromatin-modifying enzymes to the rDNA destabilizes telomeres and exposes them to degradation, and desilences the mating-type loci, causing sterility. In mammals, ageing has been associated with large-scale changes in both nuclear architecture and chromatin structure. How might these changes contribute to the ageing process? Because numerous genes are either directly or indirectly regulated by (nearby) heterochromatic regions2, it is possible that changes in the epigenetic make-up of a cell might alter its gene-expression patterns, thereby changing its genomic identity. In this section, we discuss evidence for age-related changes in gene expression across species and a possible role for DNA damage as an evolutionarily conserved mechanism that could drive changes in nuclear architecture and gene expression over a lifetime.

Gene expression changes with age. With the emergence of genomic technologies, age-associated alterations in gene-expression patterns have now been documented in several species (Table 1). An impressive example of age-related alterations in gene expression comes from a study by Yankner and colleagues43. The authors examined gene-expression patterns in the human cortex, covering a broad age range, and observed progressive changes in gene-expression patterns with age. Comparisons between age-related gene-expression patterns across tissues and even species reveals that several functional gene groups are similarly affected; the increased expression of stress-response genes and inflammatory genes is one example (Table 1). Such changes may reflect a response to age-related stress and are thought to counteract age-related tissue damage.


Could some of the reported transcriptional changes be a cause rather than a common consequence of ageing? The majority of significantly altered transcripts cover a broad and seemingly random range of genes, some of which may interfere with proper cell function; examples include the deregulation of cell-cycle genes in post-mitotic neurons44 and neuronal factors in muscle tissues45, 46. Such changes may pose a problem for proper cell function and thereby directly contribute to organ decline and ageing. In addition, although there are groups of genes that are shared between species, most age-related transcriptional changes are not shared, even between closely-related species such as monkeys and humans47. Even within species, the majority of transcriptional changes appear to differ between tissues48. If age-related transcriptional changes were solely a consequence of the ageing process, one might expect similar changes between species and, certainly, organs of the same animal. The observed variation between species and tissues underlines the apparent randomness of these changes. A stochastic component that affects gene-expression changes is also supported at the level of individual cells, as transcriptional profiles can differ between adjacent cells from the same aged tissue of a mouse49. However, the combined transcriptional changes within a given tissue appear to be rather reproducible, which implies that the pre-existing nuclear environment of a cell or tissue may also determine which genes become preferentially deregulated with age. This hypothesis is further supported by work in flies, which demonstrates that some genes that are deregulated during ageing localize to the same chromosomal region; this finding indicates a role for global changes in nuclear architecture with ageing50. Clearly, more work is required to understand the underlying causes of age-related transcriptional changes and their contributory relationship, if any, to the ageing process.

Calorie restriction counters gene-expression changes. Calorie restriction, a dietary regimen that extends the lifespan of numerous organisms, also delays the majority of age-related gene-expression changes in mice and, to a certain extent, in flies45, 50. It is currently unclear whether the effect of calorie restriction on gene expression underlies its beneficial effect on lifespan or is merely a consequence thereof. Findings in yeast suggest that there may be a causal link: Sir2 not only facilitates heterochromatin and promotes DNA stability, but is also a mediator of calorie restriction51, 52. Furthermore, in rodents and humans, the levels and activity of the Sir2 orthologue SIRT1 increase in response to calorie restriction53, which raises the possibility that the enzyme may also be involved in age-related changes in nuclear architecture and could be a mediator of caloric restriction in mammals. It will be interesting to explore to what extent SIRT1 directly regulates gene expression (so far, only a few examples are known54, 55, 56) and whether SIRT1 facilitates heterochromatin formation or promotes genomic stability in mammals. If so, perhaps some of the age-related changes in gene expression and genomic instability in mammals can be traced to the relocalization of SIRT1 during ageing, as is the case for the yeast orthologue Sir2.

DNA damage causes genome-wide transcriptional changes. Why gene-expression patterns change during ageing is not known; however, it has been speculated that a major underlying cause of these changes is DNA damage (Box 3). Yankner and colleagues first demonstrated a direct link between global age-related gene repression and oxidative DNA damage to the promoters of the repressed genes43. Oxidative DNA damage is caused by an accumulation of reactive oxygen species (ROS), which can be observed with age. ROS are highly unstable, reactive by-products of mitochondrial respiration and can damage several cellular components including lipids, proteins and DNA. Oxidative stress has, therefore, been proposed to be a significant contributor to cellular and organismal decline and its role during ageing has been extensively investigated (reviewed in Ref. 57). The idea that increased ROS generation may be responsible for gene-expression changes is further supported by comparisons of cerebellar and cortical gene-expression patterns of aged monkeys and humans. The tissue with higher respiratory activity and presumably higher propensity for DNA damage, in this case the cortex, showed greater alterations in gene regulation with age47. However, more work is needed before a causal relationship can be declared between respiration, DNA damage and gene-expression changes in the brain.

As previously mentioned, gene expression is not only altered during ageing in mice, but can vary between single cells in a homogeneous tissue. These changes can be accelerated by oxidative DNA damage in cell-culture experiments49. This effect on gene expression was long-lasting, persisting up to 9 days after stress — a finding that is reminiscent of long-lasting stress-induced changes in chromatin structure12. This study in particular supports the idea that randomly distributed sites of DNA damage can influence gene expression with age. It also implies that much of the variability in transcription among single cells cannot be detected by whole-tissue analyses. Given that most of the studies so far have examined whole tissues, the number of genes that are deregulated with age is likely to have been underestimated.

The fact that DNA repair is impaired in mouse models of HPGS suggests that DNA damage also has a role in this premature ageing syndrome58. cDNA microarray analysis of fibroblasts from patients with HGPS showed a range of gene-expression changes that cover gene-ontology groups as diverse as signal transduction, transcriptional regulation, cell-cycle regulation and development, consistent with a global deregulation of gene expression59. A recent report further highlighted the dramatic effect of DNA-repair defects on age-related gene expression changes60: Hoeijmaker’s group identified a novel mutation in a member of the well characterized xeroderma pigmentosa (XP) complementation group, XPF. XPF is part of an endonuclease complex that is involved in the repair of single-nucleotide lesions and DNA interstrand crosslinks. Humans with this particular mutation show dramatic progeroid symptoms and usually die in their teens. A mouse model for this disease shows gene-expression patterns that resemble those of normally aged mice, and metabolic gene-expression changes appear to be particularly conserved. The authors suggest that this may reflect a common stress response that provides protective tissue maintenance. Although this correlation was impressive, a significant number of other ageing-like transcriptional changes that were reported for this XPF mouse model do not fall into stress-response categories. Together, these observations suggest that, although some of the age-related transcriptional changes constitute a stress response, a significant proportion of the changes occurs in a seemingly random fashion.

DNA damage alters chromatin

In yeast, DNA damage induces an RCM response that disrupts heterochromatin and alters gene expression. A wealth of literature has recently implicated chromatin-remodelling enzymes in the DNA-repair process in yeast and other more complex organisms (reviewed in Ref. 61). DNA double-strand break (DSB) repair involves the recruitment of histone modifiers to the repair site, together with other repair complex components such as Ku70/80 and DNA ligase IV. DSBs trigger the DNA-damage sensor kinases ATM, ATR or DNA-PK, which phosphorylate the surrounding histones H2A and H2AX in yeast and mammals, respectively62, 63, 64. The extent of this modification can reach into megabases, potentially affecting the epigenetic regulation of several genes65.

In yeast, chromatin-remodelling factors that are involved in DNA repair, such as histone acetyltransferases (HATs) and histone deacetylases (HDACs) as well as histone methyltransferases, are then recruited to the break site28, 66, 67. Although the precise role for these chromatin-remodelling complexes during DNA repair is not fully understood, it is presumed that they dictate the type of repair and facilitate the repair process by changing the chromatin composition around the site of damage. In yeast, HATs (such as Esa1) and HDACs (in particular Sin3, Rpd3 and the sirtuin Hst1) are part of chromatin-remodelling complexes that promote an ordered and dynamic progression of histone modifications over the time-course of DSB repair28. Importantly, these proteins are not specialized DNA-repair enzymes but, rather, chromatin-modifying enzymes that have several functions outside DNA repair, including gene silencing68. Recruitment of such factors to sites of damage may therefore be accompanied by a loss of function at their original sites, as is the case for the Sir complex25, 27.

Although a role for histone deacetylation during DNA repair has not been demonstrated in mammalian cells, there is accumulating evidence for chromatin remodelling besides H2AX phosphorylation. For example, histone methylation has been directly linked to the recruitment of DNA-repair factors in human cells. Specifically, methylation of Lys79 on histone H3 recruits the p53-binding protein-1 (53BP1). Recruitment of these factors is thought to tether the DNA-repair complex to the site of damage69, 70. Importantly, this mechanism appears to be evolutionarily conserved between yeast and mammals because the fission yeast 53BP1 homologue Crb2 is also recruited to DSBs, a process that requires methylation of Lys20 on H4 (Ref. 66). The fact that 53BP1 can also be found in the DNA-damage-associated heterochromatin foci of aged monkey fibroblasts42 further corroborates the idea that histone modifiers may have a crucial role during the DNA-damage response in mammals and points towards DNA damage as an inducer of global changes in chromatin architecture.

The epigenetic balance hypothesis

As mentioned earlier, the formation of transient heterochromatic foci around sites of DNA damage may explain how DNA damage might directly mediate gene repression12. Consistent with this notion, many of the gene-expression changes that are observed in aged individuals occur in a stochastic fashion, as does most DNA damage49, 71. It is also conceivable that certain genomic regions are more prone to damage than others, which could explain some of the predictable, co-regulated changes that are observed between aged individuals of the same species. Indeed, DNA breaks occur more commonly in certain euchromatic, active regions of the genome3. Furthermore, fragile sites on chromosomes that are prone to breakage are well documented in mammals72. It will be interesting to investigate whether these sites of preferential DNA damage correlate with loci that become deregulated with age.

Although it is conceivable how DNA damage might lead to gene repression, it is less obvious how age-related stress and DNA damage could account for gene activation. This question is particularly important to address because the fraction of genes that are significantly upregulated with age roughly equals or even exceeds the fraction that is downregulated (Table 1). Moreover, transcript levels overall appear to be increased in old animals73. One explanation may be that DNA damage interferes with the expression of transcriptional repressors, leading indirectly to an induction of sets of target genes. However, the diversity of genes that show increased expression with age indicates that other processes may also be at work.

Based on what we know about yeast ageing and the DNA-damage-induced RCM response, we propose the following model for how DNA damage might lead to global changes in gene expression to promote ageing in mammals. We refer to this model as the ‘epigenetic balance hypothesis’ (Fig. 2). In this model, age-related gene-expression changes are manifestations of the redistribution of chromatin modifiers from one genomic locus to another. The model also encompasses the idea that DNA damage mediates chromatin remodelling and changes in nuclear architecture that occur over a lifetime, which fits with evidence that oxidative stress and DNA damage can accelerate the ageing process. Based on the observations of Tyler and colleagues28, it is plausible that chromatin modifications during DNA repair are never fully restored to their pre-damaged state, resulting in progressive alterations in both chromatin-modification patterns and gene expression28.

Figure 2 | Redistribution of heterochromatin-associated factors as a cause of age-related changes in nuclear architecture and gene expression.

Figure 2 : Redistribution of heterochromatin-associated factors as a cause of age-related changes in nuclear architecture and gene expression. Unfortunately we are unable to provide accessible alternative text for this. If you require assistance to access this image, or to obtain a text description, please contact npg@nature.comIn the young, the nuclear architecture of each tissue is well defined; it comprises tightly packed perinuclear heterochromatin (blue) and patches of tissue-specific, developmentally controlled facultative heterochromatin islands (grey; represented by gene A) in the otherwise transcriptionally active euchromatin (represented by gene B). This generates cell-type-specific gene-expression patterns. Repetitive DNA is part of perinuclear heterochromatin and is transcriptionally repressed. Position-effect variegation (Box 2) can cause repression of nearby coding regions (gene C). Silencing complexes in constitutive and facultative heterochromatin are different (grey and blue ovals), but contain several identical chromatin-modifying enzymes (green ovals). Green tags represent transcriptionally permissive histone modifications, whereas red tags represent non-permissive histone modifications. The age-associated accumulation of DNA damage triggers global changes in nuclear architecture, including the formation of senescence-associated heterochromatin foci (SAHFs) in euchromatic DNA (grey) and a gradual loss of perinuclear heterochromatin. This loss may be a direct consequence of a redistribution of essential silencing factors, in particular histone-modifying enzymes, to sites of DNA damage or SAHFs (arrows). This process causes changes in nuclear architecture and tissue-specific gene expression patterns. In this example, gene A is activated owing to the loss of facultative heterochromatin, gene B is silenced in response to DNA damage and gene C is derepressed owing to changes in position-effect variegation. The corresponding changes in histone modifications are shown.


The consequences of the redistribution of chromatin-modifying enzymes would be twofold. Previously silent regions may become transcriptionally active, leading to ectopic gene expression and, possibly, destabilization of previously heterochromatic repetitive DNA. By contrast, genes may become repressed near sites of DNA damage through remodelling processes that are similar to the formation of SAHFs. According to the model, nuclear structure and organization is progressively and inexorably altered over time, resulting in the functional decline of cells and tissues. The model is consistent with both the stochastic changes in gene expression as described by Vijg and colleagues49 and the reproducible tissue-specific transcriptional changes that occur as organisms age, which will be dictated by the original architecture of a given tissue.

Perspective

In this review, we propose that a redistribution of chromatin modifiers is a natural, protective response to DNA damage, but may lead to epigenetic changes that affect genomic integrity and, thereby (at least in part), account for changes in gene expression that appear to be a hallmark of the ageing process. Although this epigenetic balance hypothesis presents an appealing explanation of what we currently know about age-related changes in nuclear architecture and gene expression, it is certainly not the only way to explain the observed effects of ageing. For example, it can be argued that changes in gene expression mediate changes in chromatin structure, which in turn enhances susceptibility to DNA damage. In this scenario, gene-expression changes would precede DNA damage. Despite convincing evidence for DNA damage as a trigger of transcriptional changes49, 60, it is conceivable that a change in the transcription status of a gene determines its susceptibility to DNA damage. A comprehensive (computational) analysis or the genome-wide mapping of sites of DNA damage and localization of chromatin-remodelling enzymes may shed light on the complex interplay between transcriptional activity and DNA damage.

Several findings suggest that DNA damage is a main trigger of nuclear ageing, supporting the free-radical theory of ageing74 (see the accompanying Opinion article by Pelicci and colleagues in this issue). However, it could also be argued that chromatin structure is directly affected by the ageing process through an as-yet-unknown mechanism that leads to increased DNA damage and a permanent damage response that alters gene-expression patterns in a similar way to the model proposed in this review.

Over the coming years, as researchers use mammalian models to map the global pattern of chromatin modifications during ageing, it should become clear whether changes in the epigenetic balance due to the RCM response underlie aspects of the ageing process. For now, perhaps we should pause for a moment to consider the remarkable ability of cells to maintain their chromatin and gene-expression patterns for as long as they do, overcoming daily chemical and physical damage, in some cases for many decades.

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Acknowledgements

We thank B. North for critical reading of the manuscript. The Sinclair laboratory is supported by National Institutes of Health grants and the Paul F. Glenn Laboratories for the Biological Mechanisms of Aging. P.O. is supported by the National Space Biomedical Research Institute.

Competing interests statement

The authors declare competing financial interests.

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Author affiliations

  1. Department of Pathology, Paul F. Glenn Laboratories for the Biological Mechanisms of Aging, Harvard Medical School, 77 Avenue Louis Pasteur, Boston, Massachusetts, USA.

Correspondence to: David A. Sinclair1 Email: david_sinclair@hms.harvard.edu

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 23 dic 2009 @ 2:25 PM 

Quantification of Macrophage Content in Atherosclerotic
Plaques by Optical Coherence Tomography
Guillermo J. Tearney, MD, PhD; Hiroshi Yabushita, MD; Stuart L. Houser, MD;
H. Thomas Aretz, MD; Ik-Kyung Jang, MD; Kelly H. Schlendorf, BS; Christopher R. Kauffman, BS;
Milen Shishkov, PhD; Elkan F. Halpern, PhD; Brett E. Bouma, PhD
Background—Macrophage degradation of fibrous cap matrix is an important contributor to atherosclerotic plaque
instability. An imaging technology capable of identifying macrophages in patients could provide valuable information
for assessing plaque vulnerability. Optical coherence tomography (OCT) is a new intravascular imaging modality that
allows cross-sectional imaging of tissue with a resolution of 10 m. The aim of this study was to investigate the use
of OCT for identifying macrophages in fibrous caps.
Methods and Results—OCT images of 26 lipid-rich atherosclerotic arterial segments obtained at autopsy were correlated
with histology. Cap macrophage density was quantified morphometrically by immunoperoxidase staining with CD68
and smooth muscle actin and compared with the standard deviation of the OCT signal intensity at corresponding
locations. There was a high degree of positive correlation between OCT and histological measurements of fibrous cap
macrophage density (r 0.84, P 0.0001) and a negative correlation between OCT and histological measurements of
smooth muscle actin density (r 0.56, P 0.005). A range of OCT signal standard deviation thresholds (6.15% to
6.35%) yielded 100% sensitivity and specificity for identifying caps containing 10% CD68 staining.
Conclusions—The high contrast and resolution of OCT enables the quantification of macrophages within fibrous caps. The
unique capabilities of OCT for fibrous cap characterization suggest that this technology may be well suited for
identifying vulnerable plaques in patients. (Circulation. 2003;107:113-119.)
Key Words: atherosclerosis catheters imaging tomography plaque
Cellularity of fibrous caps of atherosclerotic plaque, manifested
by the infiltration of macrophages (average size,
20 to 50 m), is thought to weaken the structural integrity of
the cap1–3 and predispose plaques to rupture. Macrophages
and other plaque-related cells produce proteolytic enzymes,
such as matrix metalloproteinases, that digest extracellular
matrix and compromise the integrity of the fibrous cap.4–7
Activated macrophages are strongly colocalized with local
thrombi in patients who have died of acute myocardial
infarction7 and are more frequently demonstrated in coronary
artery specimens obtained from patients suffering from acute
coronary syndromes compared with patients with stable
angina.3 This evidence suggests that an imaging technology
capable of identifying macrophages in patients would provide
valuable information for assessing the likelihood of plaque
rupture.
Intravascular optical coherence tomography (OCT) is a
recently developed optical imaging technique that provides
high-resolution, cross-sectional images of tissue in situ.8,9
The resolution of OCT, 10 m, is appropriate for measuring
the cap thickness ( 100 m) that is characteristic of a
vulnerable plaque. Previous studies have demonstrated the
visualization of microstructural features in atherosclerotic
plaques with OCT.10–12 Results from intracoronary OCT,
recently performed in patients, have shown an improved
capability for characterizing plaque microstructure compared
with intravascular ultrasound.12,13 To date, however, the use
of OCT for characterizing the cellular constituents of fibrous
caps has not been investigated. The purpose of this study was
to evaluate the potential of OCT for identifying macrophages
in fibrous caps of atherosclerotic plaques.
Methods
Specimens
A total of 26 lipid-rich atherosclerotic arterial plaques (19 aortas and
7 carotid bulbs) were obtained from 17 randomly selected cadavers
(10 male and 7 female, mean age 73.2 15.2 years) to quantify
macrophage content. The harvested arteries were stored immediately
Received July 18, 2002; accepted September 10, 2002.
From Wellman Laboratories of Photomedicine (G.J.T., K.H.S., C.R.K., M.S., B.E.B.), Department of Pathology (G.J.T., S.L.H., H.T.A.), Cardiology
Division (H.Y., I.-K.J.), and Department of Radiology (E.F.H.), Massachusetts General Hospital and Harvard Medical School, Boston, Mass; and First
Department of Internal Medicine (H.Y.), Kinki University School of Medicine, Osakasayama, Osaka, Japan.
Correspondence to Guillermo J. Tearney, MD, PhD, Massachusetts General Hospital, 40 Blossom St, BAR 703, Boston, MA 02114. E-mail
tearney@helix.mgh.harvard.edu
© 2003 American Heart Association, Inc.
Circulation is available at http://www.circulationaha.org DOI: 10.1161/01.CIR.0000044384.41037.43
Downloaded from circ.ahajou1r1n3als.org by on August 13, 2009
in PBS at 4°C. The time between death and OCT imaging did not
exceed 72 hours. The Institutional Review Board at the Massachusetts
General Hospital approved the experimental protocol.
OCT Imaging Studies
The OCT system used in the present study has been previously
described.8,9,14 OCT images were acquired at 4 frames per second
(500 angular pixels 250 radial pixels), displayed with an inverse
gray-scale lookup table, and digitally archived. The optical source
used in this experiment had a center wavelength of 1310 nm and a
bandwidth of 70 nm, providing an axial resolution of 10 m in
tissue. The transverse resolution, determined by the spot size of the
sample arm beam, was 25 m.
Before OCT imaging, arteries were warmed to 37°C in PBS. Each
carotid bulb and aorta was opened and imaged with the luminal
surface exposed. The position of the interrogating beam on the tissue
was monitored by a visible light aiming beam (laser diode, 635 nm)
that was coincident with the infrared beam. Precise registration of
OCT and histology was accomplished by using a 26-gauge needle to
apply ink marks (Triangle Biomedical Sciences) at the imaging site,
such that each OCT image and corresponding histological section
contained visually recognizable reference points.
Staining
After imaging, the tissue was processed in a routine fashion. Arterial
segments were fixed in 10% formalin (Fisher Scientific) for at least
48 hours. Arteries with substantial calcification were decalcified
(Cal-EX, Fisher Scientific) before standard paraffin embedding.
Four-micron sections were cut at the marked imaging sites and
stained with H&E and Masson’s trichrome. To visualize the presence
of macrophages and smooth muscle cells, a mouse anti-human CD68
monoclonal antibody and -actin monoclonal antibody (Dako Corporation)
were used, respectively. Immunohistochemical detection
of the preferred epitopes was performed according to the indirect
horseradish peroxidase technique. After blocking with horse serum,
the tissue was incubated with primary antibodies followed by horse
anti-mouse secondary antibody and streptavidin with peroxidase (Bio-
Genex) for anti–smooth muscle actin or avidin-biotin horseradish
peroxidase complex (Dako Corporation) for anti-CD68. Slides were
developed with 3-amino-9-ethyl-carbazole (Sigma) and counterstained
with Gill’s hematoxylin (Fisher Scientific). All slides were digitized for
histomorphometric analysis (Insight Camera, Diagnostic Instruments).
Morphometric Analysis
Macrophage Content Measurement
With the use of both digitized histology and OCT, measurements of
macrophage density were obtained using a 500 125- m (lateral x
axial) region of interest (ROI), located in the center of the plaque
(Figure 1). For caps having a thickness 125 m, the depth of the
ROI was matched to the cap thickness. In this study, tissue present
within the ROI did not demonstrate histological evidence of either
calcium or cholesterol crystals.
OCT measures the intensity of light returning from within a
sample. Samples having a higher heterogeneity of optical index of
refraction exhibit stronger optical scattering and therefore a stronger
OCT signal. If the characteristic size scale of the index of refraction
heterogeneity is larger than the resolution, then the OCT signal will
have a larger variance. Previous research conducted to measure the
optical properties of human tissue has shown that the refractive index
of lipid and collagen is significantly different.15 These results
suggest that caps containing macrophages should have multiple
strong back reflections, resulting in a relatively high OCT signal
variance. With standard image processing methods,16 the variance,
2, within the ROI of an OCT image can be represented by the
following:
2
1
N 1
ROIwidth ROIheight S x,y
S
2,
where N is the number of pixels in the ROI, ROIwidth is the width
of the ROI, ROIheight is the height of the ROI, S(x,y) is the OCT
signal as a function of x and y locations within the ROI, and S is the
average OCT signal within the ROI.
OCT images contain tissue back-reflection information that spans
a large dynamic range (100 dB or 10 orders of magnitude). The
dynamic range of OCT is too high to be displayed on a standard
monitor, which may have a dynamic range of only 2 to 3 orders of
magnitude. As a result, the signal range of most OCT images is
compressed by taking the base 10 logarithm of the OCT image
before display. Although taking the logarithm of the OCT image data
enables convenient image display, compression of the data range in
this manner diminishes image contrast. In the present study, we
investigated the capabilities of both the raw (linear) OCT data and
the logarithm of the OCT data for quantifying macrophage content
within fibrous caps.
Before computing the image standard deviation, the OCT data
within the ROI were preprocessed according to the following steps.
First, the mean background noise level was subtracted, and then
median filtering16 with a 3 3 square kernel was performed to
remove speckle noise (IPLab Spectrum 3.1, Scanalytics). After
preprocessing, within the ROI was calculated and tabulated for
each specimen. To correct the data for variations in OCT system
settings, was normalized by the maximum and minimum OCT
signal present in the OCT image, as follows:
Figure 1. OCT and histology images of a
fibroatheroma with superimposed ROIs.
Raw (A) and base 10 logarithm (B) OCT
images. C and D, Corresponding histology
(C, Masson’s trichrome; D, CD68
immunoperoxidase; original magnification
40).
114 Circulation January 7/14, 2003
Downloaded from circ.ahajournals.org by on August 13, 2009
NSD

Smax Smin

,
where NSD is the normalized standard deviation of the OCT signal,
Smax is the maximum OCT image value, and Smin is the minimum OCT
image value.
The area percentage of CD68 and smooth muscle actin staining
was quantified (at 100 magnification) with automatic bimodal
color segmentation16 within the corresponding ROIs of the digitized
immunohistochemically stained slides (IPLab Spectrum 3.1, Scanalytics).
The NSD within each cap was then compared with immunohistochemical
staining from slides obtained from corresponding
locations.
Cap Thickness Measurement
Both digitized histology and OCT measurements of cap thickness
were taken at the center of each plaque (IPLab Spectrum 3.1,
Scanalytics). A pathologist, blinded to the OCT results, morphometrically
measured the fibrous cap thicknesses from digitized
trichrome-stained slides. A total of 5 measurements by histology
were obtained from each specimen. The maximum and minimum
measurements were excluded, and the average of the remaining 3
measurements was used to comprise the data set.
Statistics
OCT measurements of macrophage and smooth muscle density were
compared with histological measurements using linear regression.
Because of the potential confounding association of OCT NSD with
cap thickness, a partial correlation between the raw OCT NSD and
CD68 percent area and smooth muscle actin percent area, controlling
for histological measurements of cap thickness, was also calculated.
In addition, after retrospective application of an NSD threshold, the
accuracy of OCT for identifying caps with 10% CD68 staining was
determined. All continuous variables are expressed as mean SD.
P 0.05 was considered statistically significant.
Results
Macrophage Density
Figure 2 shows representative OCT and histological images
for plaques with low and high macrophage content. As seen
in this figure, the OCT signal within the cap is relatively
homogeneous for low macrophage density, whereas for high
macrophage content, the OCT image of the cap is heterogeneous
with punctate, highly reflecting regions. The relationship
between macrophage density determined by immunohistochemistry
and the NSD measured by OCT is depicted in
Figure 3 for both the raw and base 10 logarithm OCT data.
For the raw OCT data, a correlation of r 0.84 (P 0.0001)
was found between OCT NSD and CD68 percent staining,
whereas for the base 10 logarithm OCT data, a correlation of
r 0.47 (P 0.05) was found between OCT NSD and CD68
percent staining. The partial correlation of raw OCT NSD and
CD68 percent staining, controlling for cap thickness, was
r 0.80 (P 0.0001), indicating that OCT measurement of
macrophage density is independent of cap thickness.
Morphometric evaluation of 26 slides stained with CD68
showed 9 caps with a CD68 area 10% and 17 caps with a
CD68 area 10%. Receiver operating characteristic (ROC)
curves for the raw and base 10 logarithm OCT signal NSDs
are depicted in Figure 4. For the raw OCT signal NSD, a
range of NSDs (6.15% to 6.35%) demonstrated 100% sensitivity
and specificity ( value 1.0) for differentiating caps
containing 10% CD68 staining. For the base 10 logarithm
OCT signal, NSD values ranging from 7.65% to 7.75%
provided 70% sensitivity and 75% specificity ( value 0.44)
for identifying caps containing 10% CD68 staining. A
comparison of the OCT NSD and CD68 staining is summarized
in the Table.
Smooth Muscle Cell Density
A negative correlation was found between CD68 and smooth
muscle actin percent area staining (r 0.44, P 0.05). In
turn, a statistically significant negative relationship between
smooth muscle cell density determined by immunohistochemistry
and OCT NSD was observed for both the raw and
base 10 logarithm OCT data. For the raw OCT data, a
Figure 2. Raw (A) and logarithm base 10 (B) OCT
images of a fibroatheroma with a low density of
macrophages within the fibrous cap. C, Corresponding
histology for A and B (CD68 immunoperoxidase;
original magnification 100). Raw (D) and
logarithm base 10 (E) OCT images of a fibroatheroma
with a high density of macrophages within the
fibrous cap. F, Corresponding histology for D and
E (CD68 immunoperoxidase; original magnification
100).
Tearney et al Quantification of Macrophages by OCT 115
Downloaded from circ.ahajournals.org by on August 13, 2009
correlation of r 0.56 (P 0.005) was found between OCT
NSD and smooth muscle actin–positive percent staining,
whereas for the base 10 logarithm OCT data, a correlation of
r 0.32 (P 0.12) was found between OCT NSD and
smooth muscle actin–positive percent staining. The partial
correlation of the raw OCT NSD and smooth muscle actin
percent area staining, controlling for cap thickness, was
r 0.38 (P 0.05).
Discussion
Although many new approaches under investigation for
plaque characterization show great promise, none provide
direct evidence of macrophage presence. This study demonstrates
that OCT is capable of visualizing macrophages and
quantifying cap macrophage content. Because the OCT signal
increases with the number of refractive index mismatches in
tissue, caps containing macrophages should have multiple
strong back reflections. A simple computational analysis of
ROIs within OCT images of fibrous caps (NSD) was developed
to test this hypothesis. When validated against immunohistochemistry,
this parameter demonstrated a high degree
of correlation with CD68 staining at corresponding locations
(r 0.84 for raw OCT data NSD).
Although little is known about the precise relationship
between cap macrophage density and plaque vulnerability,
studies have shown that plaques with a macrophage content
in the range of 10% to 20% are more likely to be associated
with unstable angina and non–Q-wave myocardial infarction.
3 As a result, we selected 10% CD68 area as a cutoff for
high macrophage content. Using the ROC to select an
appropriate NSD threshold, we found that OCT was capable
of accurately distinguishing fibrous caps with low macrophage
content from fibrous caps with high macrophage
content (100% sensitivity and specificity for raw OCT data
NSD).
Studies have shown that macrophages are more abundant
than smooth muscle cells in the plaques of patients with
unstable angina.7,17 In the present study, we found an inverse
correlation between CD68 and smooth muscle actin staining
from corresponding locations within plaque caps (r 0.44,
P 0.05). The negative correlation between the raw OCT data
NSD and smooth muscle actin staining (r 0.56, P 0.005)
may in part reflect the inverse relationship between macro-
Figure 3. Correlation between the raw (A) and logarithm
base 10 (B) OCT NSD and CD68 percent
area staining (diamonds, NSD data; solid line, linear
fit).
116 Circulation January 7/14, 2003
Downloaded from circ.ahajournals.org by on August 13, 2009
phages and smooth muscle cells in our data. Nevertheless, it
seems that the OCT NSD is specific for macrophage content,
as opposed to being a more general metric of increased
cellular density.
In the present study, both the raw OCT signal and the
logarithm of the OCT signal were processed and compared
with CD68 immunohistochemical positivity. Although the
logarithm of the OCT signal provides an increased dynamic
range for image display, it also apparently decreases the
contrast between macrophages and surrounding matrix (Table).
On the basis of our results here, we recommend that
image quantification for determination of macrophage content
be performed on the raw OCT signal.
Alternative Methods for Identifying Inflammation
in Atherosclerotic Plaques
Diffuse near-infrared (NIR) reflectance spectroscopy is a
quantitative approach that uses the spectrum of light scattered
from within the vessel wall.18 A recent study using cadaver
specimens has demonstrated that chemometric analysis of the
NIR spectrum may allow identification of plaques containing
abundant inflammatory cells.18 On the basis of the hypothesis
that local inflammation within vulnerable plaques may lead to
local elevations in temperature, studies have recently been
performed using a temperature-sensing catheter. Experiments
conducted in patients have indicated that both temperature
heterogeneity and the temperature difference between atherosclerotic
plaque and healthy vessel walls increase with
disease severity.19–21 Both NIR spectroscopy and thermography
seem promising for assessing inflammation within
plaques, but these diagnostic techniques are not specific for
macrophages and may need to be combined with another
imaging modality to precisely determine whether the inflammatory
cells are confined to the fibrous cap or are present
throughout the plaque. Recently, ultrasmall superparamagnetic
particles of iron oxide have been proposed for delineation
of inflammatory changes accompanying atherosclerotic
disease.22 The limited resolution of magnetic resonance
imaging, however, renders the localization of macrophages
within thin fibrous cap and plaque shoulders difficult.
Study Limitations
Because cadaver specimens were used in this study, minor
tissue changes may have occurred postmortem. The effect of
specimen degradation over a period of 72 hours (the maximum
time between death and OCT imaging in this study) on
arterial optical properties is not known. However, a recent
feasibility study, performed in patients, has shown that OCT
images of coronary plaques obtained in vivo demonstrate
similar features to those identified in this work12 (Figure 5).
Therefore, it is likely that the OCT data analysis algorithms
described here will also be applicable to intracoronary OCT
images obtained from patients.
Because the resolution of the OCT system used in the
present study was 10 m, clear visualization of individual
mononuclear macrophages was not possible. As a result, the
NSD computed by the image-processing algorithm represents
the reflectivity differences between collections of macrophages
and surrounding cap matrix. Furthermore, sizes of
macrophages vary widely, and the preprocessing step used to
reduce speckle noise may remove information related to
macrophage content. Future technology development to increase
the resolution of OCT23–25 will reduce the dependence
of quantitative macrophage determination on noise and could
Figure 4. A and B, ROC curves for CD68 percent area cutoff of
10%. A, Raw data OCT NSD. B, Base 10-logarithm OCT
NSD.
Summary of Correlation Between Raw OCT Data and Logarithm
OCT Data NSD vs CD68 Percent Staining
Raw OCT Signal Logarithm OCT Signal
Correlation, r 0.84 (P 0.0001) 0.47 (P 0.05)
NSD cutoff, % 6.2 7.7
Sensitivity 1.0 (0.69 to 1.0) 0.70 (0.35 to 0.93)
Specificity 1.0 (0.8 to 1.0) 0.75 (0.48 to 0.93)
Positive predictive value 1.0 (0.69 to 1.0) 0.64 (0.3 to 0.89)
Negative predictive value 1.0 (0.8 to 1.0) 0.80 (0.52 to 0.96)
CD68 percent staining cutoff, 10%. Data in parenthesis represent 95%
confidence intervals.
Tearney et al Quantification of Macrophages by OCT 117
Downloaded from circ.ahajournals.org by on August 13, 2009
potentially enable the identification and tracking of individual
macrophages within fibrous caps.
Selection of the location of macrophage density measurement
in both OCT and histology may introduce a bias that
could potentially affect the results of this study. To minimize
this potential bias, we obtained measurements only at the
center of each plaque. Registration of OCT and histology was
accomplished by applying ink marks to the vessels at the
imaging site. Because the outer diameter of the needle used to
apply the ink marks was 450 m (26 gauge), we estimate that
the registration precision in this study was 500 m.
Because macrophage density may vary as a function of
measurement location, our results may be affected by errors
in registration between OCT images and corresponding histological
sections. This limitation is present in all correlative
studies of this type and must be considered when interpreting
the results.
Conclusion
In conclusion, our results show that OCT is capable of
accurately evaluating cap macrophage content. These findings
are significant, because macrophage density is thought to
be a major contributor in determining fibrous cap integrity.
The ability of this imaging modality to quantify cap macrophage
density is complementary to the high-resolution, crosssectional
visualization of plaque morphology provided by
OCT. The simplicity of the image-processing algorithm used
for macrophage evaluation should permit real-time superposition
of this information during clinical imaging. These
unique capabilities of OCT suggest that this technology may
provide researchers and clinicians with a valuable tool for
understanding the contributions of these inflammatory cells
to plaque progression and rupture in patients.
Acknowledgments
This study was funded in part by the Center for Integration of
Medicine and Innovative Technology (development of the imaging
system platform) and the Guidant Corporation.
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 23 dic 2009 @ 2:21 PM 

A single mutation in the castor 9-18:0-desaturase
changes reaction partitioning from desaturation
to oxidase chemistry
Jodie E. Guy*, Isabel A. Abreu†, Martin Moche‡, Ylva Lindqvist*, Edward Whittle†, and John Shanklin†§
*Department of Medical Biochemistry and Biophysics, Division of Molecular Structural Biology, Karolinska Institutet, Tomtebodava¨gen 6,
S-171 77 Stockholm, Sweden; †Department of Biology, Brookhaven National Laboratory, Upton, NY 11973; and ‡Department of Medical
Biochemistry and Biophysics and Structural Genomics Consortium, Karolinska Institutet, S-171 77 Stockholm, Sweden
Edited by Christopher R. Somerville, Carnegie Institution of Washington, Stanford, CA, and approved September 28, 2006 (received for review
August 17, 2006)
Sequence analysis of the diiron cluster-containing soluble desaturases
suggests they are unrelated to other diiron enzymes; however,
structural alignment of the core four-helix bundle of desaturases
to other diiron enzymes reveals a conserved iron binding
motif with similar spacing in all enzymes of this structural class,
implying a common evolutionary ancestry. Detailed structural
comparison of the castor desaturase with that of a peroxidase,
rubrerythrin, shows remarkable conservation of both identity
and geometry of residues surrounding the diiron center, with
the exception of residue 199. Position 199 is occupied by a threonine
in the castor desaturase, but the equivalent position in
rubrerythrin contains a glutamic acid. We previously hypothesized
that a carboxylate in this location facilitates oxidase chemistry in
rubrerythrin by the close apposition of a residue capable of
facilitating proton transfer to the activated oxygen (in a hydrophobic
cavity adjacent to the diiron center based on the crystal
structure of the oxygen-binding mimic azide). Here we report that
desaturase mutant T199D binds substrate but its desaturase activity
decreases by 2 103-fold. However, it shows a >31-fold
increase in peroxide-dependent oxidase activity with respect toWT
desaturase, as monitored by single-turnover stopped-flow spectrometry.
A 2.65-Å crystal structure of T199D reveals active-site
geometry remarkably similar to that of rubrerythrin, consistent
with its enhanced function as an oxidase enzyme. That a single
amino acid substitution can switch reactivity from desaturation to
oxidation provides experimental support for the hypothesis that
the desaturase evolved from an ancestral oxidase enzyme.
binuclear diiron enzyme
Nonheme diiron-containing four-helix-bundle proteins possess
the ability to functionalize unactivated C-H groups and
mediate a diversity of chemical reactions including oxidation,
hydroxylation, desaturation, and epoxidation (1, 2). A wealth of
mechanistic information is available from various diironcontaining
proteins including methane monooxygenases, 9
desaturases, ribonucleotide reductases, rubrerythrins, alternate
oxidases, ferritins, and bacterioferritins (1–3).
The diiron-containing proteins are highly divergent in their
amino acid sequences, with identities typically falling below that
necessary for conventional phylogenetic analysis. However,
when the analysis is restricted to the four helices that coordinate
the diiron active site, the amino acid identity rises to 16–31% (4).
A shared diiron-binding motif within the conserved four-helix
bundle is involved in oxygen chemistry. The reactions have been
described as occurring in two phases, an oxygen activation phase
followed by reaction phases (1). Oxygen activation likely placed
strong evolutionary constraints on the organization of the diiron
center, whereas the reaction phases exhibit great diversity of
functional outcome. In addition to their individual catalytic
reactions, rubrerythrin, methane monooxygenase, ribonucleotide
reductase, and the 9 desaturase have also been shown to
reduce dioxygen to water (4–6). Based on these similarities,
Gomes et al. (4) proposed that the four-helix bundle diiron
proteins arose from a common ancestor that bound activated
oxygen species and reduced them to water. This hypothetical
oxidase enzyme is thought to have appeared at the transition
from anaerobic to aerobic environment, 2.5 billion years ago.
We previously performed a structural comparison of the
active site of the 9 desaturase with that of rubrerythrin, an
NAD(P)H peroxidase, which revealed remarkable similarity of
the diiron ligands (7). Based on this structural analysis we
proposed that residue 199, which occupies a location adjacent to
the diiron site and abuts the hydrophobic substrate binding
cavity, plays a key role in determining the chemical outcome of
the enzyme (7). In the desaturase it is occupied by threonine, and
in the rubrerythrin it is occupied by a glutamic acid. In this work
we report that the T199D mutant of the 9 desaturase shows
greatly reduced desaturation activity but increases its oxidase
activity by 31-fold with respect to theWT desaturase. A crystal
structure of the T199D mutant is presented that shows very close
active-site similarity to rubrerythrin, consistent with its change
in functionality.
Results and Discussion
Structural alignment of the reduced azide complexes of 9
desaturase and rubrerythrin (8) revealed similarities with respect
to the position and identity of iron binding ligands and the
position of the azide adduct (7) (Fig. 1). The single major
difference in the active site is the identity of the residue
corresponding to threonine-199 in the desaturase, which is a
glutamic acid in rubrerythrin. The side chain of the residue
occupying this position faces the bound azide that mimics the
binding site of molecular oxygen. Thus, the desaturase contains
threonine, a poor proton donor, whereas rubrerythrin contains
a glutamic acid, which facilitates proton transfer. We previously
hypothesized that the presence or absence of a proton donor in
this position might influence the partitioning of chemical reactivity
of the diiron site between desaturation and oxidase chemistry
(7). Thus, we engineered mutations at position 199 into the
desaturase to replace threonine with either glutamic or aspartic
acid and compared the desaturase and oxidase activity of these
mutants to those of WT 9 desaturase.
Author contributions: Y.L. and J.S. designed research; J.E.G., I.A.A., M.M., E.W., and J.S.
performed research; J.E.G., I.A.A., Y.L., E.W., and J.S. analyzed data; and J.S. wrote the
paper.
The authors declare no conflict of interest.
This article is a PNAS direct submission.
Data deposition: The atomic coordinates and structure factors have been deposited in the
Protein Data Bank, www.pdb.org (PDB ID code 2J2F).
§To whom correspondence should be addressed. E-mail: shanklin@bnl.gov.
© 2006 by The National Academy of Sciences of the USA
17220–17224 PNAS November 14, 2006 vol. 103 no. 46 www.pnas.org cgi doi 10.1073 pnas.0607165103
T199D and T199E mutants were expressed as soluble proteins
in Escherichia coli and purified with similar yields as WT 9
desaturase. Purified proteins were straw yellow in appearance,
and their spectra showed absorption features in the 300- to
500-nm range characteristic of ligand-to-metal charge transfer
bands characteristic of oxidized WT 9 desaturase (9). Mutants
T199D and T199E showed reductions of 2 103 in their rates
of desaturation (Table 1). Because T199D and T199E mutations
are adjacent to the substrate binding cavity, we tested for
possible changes in chain length specificity; however, neither
mutant showed any increased preference for either 16:0- or
14:0-ACP.
The introduction of a carboxylate at position 199 introduces a
charged residue into a primarily hydrophobic substrate binding
channel, raising the possibility that desaturation is prevented
because the 18:0-ACP substrate is unable to bind to the T199D
mutant desaturase. We therefore tested whether T199D is able
to bind substrate with the use of HPLC size-exclusion chromatography
performed in the presence of high salt to prevent
nonphysiological electrostatic enzyme–substrate association
(10). WT desaturase and the T199D mutant both show an
5-kDa increase in molecular mass when incubated with 18:0-
ACP (Table 2) but no change when incubated with unacylated
holo-ACP, indicating that both WT and T199D are capable of
binding substrate. These data suggest that loss of desaturation
activity of T199D does not result from an inability to bind
substrate.
If replacement of the hydroxy-containing threonine for carboxylate
functionality in mutants T199E or T199D increases
rubrerythrin-like catalysis, we predicted they should exhibit
enhanced capacity to reduce peroxide to water. Thus, we considered
various approaches to measuring the rate of peroxide
reduction in the WT 9 desaturase and the T199 mutants. To
perform the experiment physiologically requires the presence of
the natural electron donor ferredoxin and its reductase, ferredoxin
NADPH( ) oxidoreductase. However, ferredoxin and
ferredoxin NADPH( ) oxidoreductase contain chromophores
that mask the ligand-to-metal charge transfer bands of the 9
desaturase, preventing the monitoring of their rate of appearance
upon reoxidation of the desaturase. In addition, the use of
the physiological electron transport chain was discounted because
uncoupling of the electron transport chain when a nonnatural
substrate was provided to the desaturase has been
reported (11). However, an unusual property of the desaturase
is that its autooxidation rate in the absence of substrate is
103-fold slower that those of other diiron proteins such as the
R2 component of ribonucleotide reductase or the hydroxylase
component of methane monooxygenase (6). The relative stability
of reduced desaturase allowed us to separate it from excess
reductant by size-exclusion chromatography. Time-resolved single-
turnover reoxidation experiments were then performed by
reacting the reduced desaturase with various concentrations of
peroxide in a stopped-flow spectrophotometer. The peroxidedependent
reoxidation rate of the desaturase was determined for
WT, T199E, and T199D (see Table 1). A previous report
established that 4e -reduced 9 desaturase–substrate complex is
capable of reducing dioxygen to water (6); in this study we
observed a peroxide-dependent rate of desaturase reoxidation in
the absence of bound substrate (Fig. 2). The reoxidation rate
increased only modestly, by 30%, upon substitution of a
glutamic acid at position 199. However, the introduction of an
aspartic acid at position 199 resulted in a 31-fold increase in the
reoxidation rate.
A scheme representing the oxidase activity described in these
experiments is shown in Fig. 3.
The result that the aspartic acid substitution had a substantial
effect whereas substitution with glutamic acid had little effect
suggests that the active-site geometry attained by the T199D
mutant is better suited to reducing peroxide. To investigate the
relative position and orientation of the aspartic acid side chain
in T199D with that of WT desaturase and of rubrerythrin we
crystallized T199D and solved its structure at 2.65Å(Table 3 and
Fig. 4). No significant conformational changes beyond the
Fig. 1. Crystal structures of the reduced azide complexes of desaturase
(Upper) and rubrerythrin (Lower).
Table 1. Activities of desaturase enzymes
Enzyme
Desaturation with
18:0-ACP Oxidation with H2O2
kcat,* min 1
Fold
WT
Rate constant,†
M 1 s 1
Fold
WT
T199 (WT) 42.3 (1.6) — 3.6 103 —
T199E 0.022 (0.013) 10 3 4.5 103 1.3
T199D 0.021 (0.011) 10 3 1.1 105 31
*Desaturase assays, with mean standard error in parentheses (n 3).
†Oxidation assay. Rate constants were obtained from the slope of curves in Fig.
2, and each estimate is composed of 14 or more separate experiments.
Table 2. Apparent molecular masses of desaturase preparations
Enzyme
Desaturase plus
(18:0-ACP,
Buffer Holo-ACP 18:0-ACP buffer)
T199 (WT) 72.81 (0.59) 71.48 (1.60) 77.30 (0.73) 4.50 (0.46)
T199D 73.20 (0.28) 72.26 (0.99) 78.36 (0.17) 5.16 (0.40)
Data are mean apparent molecular mass in kilodaltons, with standard
deviation in parentheses (n 3).
Guy et al. PNAS November 14, 2006 vol. 103 no. 46 17221
BIOCHEMISTRY
active-site region are seen between the T199D model (Fig. 4) and
previously published models of the reduced native castor desaturase.
The electron density in the region of the active site is
of excellent quality; however, as reported for previous desaturase
models, the N terminus and the regions comprising residues
205–215 and 338–348 show less well defined electron density.
The iron–iron distance of 4.2 Å is that of the diferrous iron
center, presumably resulting from reduction by the x-ray exposure
as also observed in previous desaturase structures (7, 19).
The electron density for the threonine-to-aspartic acid mutation
at position 199 is clearly visible in the active site of each
monomer. As shown in Fig. 4, the carboxyl group of D199
occupies a similar, although not identical, position to that of E97
in rubrerythrin and is well situated to facilitate proton transfer.
Because the main chain of the desaturase is 1 Å closer to the
diiron site at residue 199 than the equivalent residue 97 of the
rubrerythrin structure, the shorter side chain length of the
aspartate positioned its carboxylate in an approximately equivalent
position to that of E97 of rubrerythrin with respect to the
diiron site.
During refinement, difference density in the active site (Fig.
5), corresponding to a ligand bound both by the mutated D199
residue and the diiron center became apparent, coincident with
the azide binding position of the azide–desaturase complex. The
density was initially modeled as a water molecule, but significant
positive density remained after refinement. It was subsequently
found that the density could be described almost equally well by
modeling either two waters or a dioxygen molecule. The most
accurate description appears to lie somewhere between the two
as, unrestrained, the distance between the two oxygen atoms
refined to 1.4–1.5 Å. Precedence exists for both models, with the
reduced form of rubrerythrin (12) containing two waters, and
sulerythrin (13) and rubredoxin:oxygen oxidoreductase (14)
each describing a putative dioxygen coordinating iron center.
Although the most likely explanation is a combination of the two
states, it was ultimately decided to model the density as two
waters because of the limited resolution of the structure. After
refinement this resulted in a relatively short OOO distance of
Fig. 2. Pseudo first-order rate constants and H2O2 concentration dependency
for the WT (F), T199E (▫), and T199D (E) mutant proteins determined
at 10°C.
Fig. 3. A schematic to describe the reaction of the desaturase T199D.
Table 3. Crystallography data collection and
refinement summary
Measurement Value
Data collection
Space group P212121
Cell axis a, Å 82.05
Cell axis b, Å 145.77
Cell axis c, Å 193.25
No. of molecules in asymmetric unit 6
Resolution, Å 2.65
Rsym 0.093 (0.474)
I/ 9.6 (2.3)
Completeness 98.4 (98.4)
Refinement
Refinement program REFMAC5
TLS model 6 TLS groups
Reflections in working set 68,033
Reflections in test set 3,388
R-factor, % 24.0
Rfree, % 27.1
No. of atoms modeled 17,049
No. of irons 12
No. of waters 150
Average B-factor protein 36.2
Average B-factor solvent 17.3
rmsd from ideals
Bonds, Å 0.016
Angles, ° 1.37
Ramachandran plot
Most favored, % 90.3
Additionally allowed, % 9.1
Generously allowed, % 0.3
Disallowed, % 0.3
Statistics for the highest-resolution shell are given in parentheses where
appropriate.
Fig. 4. A view of the superimposed active sites of the desaturase T199D
mutant (green) and of reduced rubrerythrin (blue), showing the similar position
of the putative proton donor groups.
17222 www.pnas.org cgi doi 10.1073 pnas.0607165103 Guy et al.
between 2.2 and 2.4 Å. We do not rule out the possibility that the
density could be that of a dioxygen species, particularly as the
binding site is very similar to that of the peroxo-mimic azide in
both desaturase and rubrerythrin.
In the model (Fig. 4), the waters W2 interacts with OD1 of the
mutated Asp-199 residue at a distance of 2.4 Å, whereas W1
interacts very weakly at a distance of 3.2 Å. Both also interact
with the diiron center, W2 binding at a distance of 2.3 Å to Fe2
and W1 interacting more weakly with a distance of 2.7–2.9 Å to
Fe1. W2 is also within hydrogen bonding distance of OE2 of
residue Glu-229. In this model, the apparent difference in water
binding relative to WT and its similarity to rubrerythrin correlates
with the observed change in functionality and supports
Yoon and Lippard’s suggestion (15) that the amount of accessible
water in nonheme diiron(II) enzymes might act as a control
element for achieving diverse functions using a shared structural
motif. Beyond the mutated residue and the putative waters, no
further structural changes are seen in the active site when
compared with the native desaturase structure.
Gomes et al. (4) previously proposed that the four-helix bundle
diiron protein family evolved from an ancestral rubrerythrin-like
oxidase enzyme that was responsible for reducing oxygen to
water. Correspondence of the identity and relative orientation of
residues in the actives site of the desaturase and rubrerythrin are
remarkable in light of the absence of overall detectable homology
between the two enzyme families. Results presented here
demonstrate that conversion of the hydroxy functionality of T199
to carboxylate functionality in the T199D mutant diminished
desaturase activity by 2 103-fold and increased the oxidase
activity by 31-fold. Effecting a profound change in chemical
reactivity of an enzyme by a single amino acid substitution, i.e.,
loss of desaturase activity accompanied by a large increase in
oxidase activity, provides experimental support for the hypothesis
that the desaturase evolved from an ancestral oxidase
enzyme.
Materials and Methods
Desaturase Expression, Purification, and Enzyme Assay. Castor recombinant
desaturase was generated by expression in plasmid
pET9d in E. coli BL21(DE3) that were grown in LB media in a
New Brunswick Scientific (Edison, NJ) G25 incubator shaker at
37°C until OD600 0.5, at which time isopropyl- -Dthiogalactopyranoside
was added to 0.1 mM (16). The temperature
was lowered to 30°C, and the culture was shaken at 275 rpm
for a further 4 h. Cells were collected by centrifugation, resuspended
in 5 vol of 7 mMHepes, 7 mMMes, 7 mMNaOAc, 4 mM
MgCl2, and 6 Kunitz units ml DNase I (pH 7.4), and lysed by
passage through a French pressure cell with a 104-psi pressure
drop. The lysate was clarified by centrifugation at 45,000 g for
30 min. The supernatant was applied to a 12-ml Poros 20 CM
column equilibrated with 7 mM Hepes, 7 mM Mes, and 7 mM
NaOAc (pH 7.4) (equilibration buffer). After loading, the
column was washed with 10 vol of equilibration buffer before
elution with a linear gradient of 0–600mMNaCl in equilibration
buffer. The resulting desaturase was judged to be 90% pure by
SDS PAGE. The resulting enriched desaturase was concentrated
with the use of an Amicon PM30 ultrafilter (Milliport,
Framingham, MA) and subjected to HPLC size-exclusion chromatography
with the use of a preparative G-3000SW (Toso
Haas, Montgomeryville, PA) developed with 20 mM Hepes 70
mM NaCl (pH 7.0). Castor 9-18:0-ACP desaturase variants
were assayed with [1-14C]18:0-ACP substrate with the use of
recombinant spinach ACP-I (17). Methyl esters of fatty acids
were analyzed by argentation TLC, and radioactivity in products
was quantified as previously described (18). 9-18:0-ACP desaturase
assays were performed in triplicate.
Stopped-Flow Kinetic Experiments. TheWT and mutant desaturase
proteins at concentrations between 5 and 8 mg ml in 0.5 MCAT
buffer {CAT designates equal proportions of Mes [2-(Nmorpholino)
ethanesulfonic acid 4-morpholineethanesulfonic
acid], Hepes [4-(2-hydroxyethyl) piperazine-1-ethanesulfonic
acid] and sodium acetate}, i.e., 167 mM Mes, 167 mM Hepes,
and 167 mM sodium acetate (pH 7.5) were used for these
experiments. Desaturase preparations were made anaerobic by
repeated cycles of vacuum and equilibration with oxygen-free
argon with the use of a Schlenk line. The resulting desaturase
solutions were reduced, as monitored by the decrease in absorption
at 340 nm, by titration with sodium dithionite in the presence
of 0.4 M CAT (pH 7.5) supplemented with 0.25 mM methyl
viologen. The reduced protein was then applied to a PD10
column (Amersham Pharmacia, Uppsala, Sweden) equilibrated
with 50 mM CAT 70 mM NaCl (pH 7.5) to eliminate excess
sodium dithionite and methyl viologen. Protein eluting from this
column was used for stopped-flow spectrometry. Reoxidation of
desaturase by hydrogen peroxide was monitored by an increase
in absorption of the 340-nm ligand-to-metal charge transfer
band, with the use of a KinTek Stopped-Flow SF-2001. All
measurements were made by using 0.1–5 mM H2O2 solutions in
50 mM CAT 70 mM NaCl (pH 7.5) at 10°C. Data analysis was
performed by using IGOR Pro computer software (WaveMetrics,
Lake Oswego, OR).
Desaturase–Substrate Complex. Purified WT or T199D mutant
desaturase ( 50 M) was incubated with 18:0-ACP substrate in
20 mM Hepes 450 mM NaCl (pH 7.0) for 30 min. The elution
times of either native enzyme or enzyme incubated with substrate
were estimated after passage through a G3000SWXL
size-exclusion column developed with the same buffer. Apparent
molecular masses were estimated based on comparison of elution
times of proteins of known masses.
Crystallization and Data Collection. Crystallizations were performed
by the hanging drop vapor diffusion method, using
conditions very similar to those described previously for the
native desaturase (19). Before crystallization, the protein was
concentrated to 14–16 mg ml 1 in 20 mM Hepes (pH 7.0) 70
mM NaCl. Crystals were obtained at 20°C from a well solution
of 0.08 M cacodylate buffer (pH 5.4), 0.2 M magnesium acetate,
75mMammonium sulfate, 16–18% (wt vol) polyethylene glycol
4000, and 0.2% -octyl glucoside, using a drop consisting of 5 l
of the well mixed with 5 l of protein solution. Under these
conditions crystals grew in 2–4 days, reaching a final size of
Fig. 5. The active site of the T199D mutant, showing an omitmap(contoured
at 3 ) of the difference density that was ultimately modeled as two water
molecules.
Guy et al. PNAS November 14, 2006 vol. 103 no. 46 17223
BIOCHEMISTRY
200 300 20 m. Crystals were cryoprotected by soaking
for 30 sec in well solution supplemented with 25% (vol vol)
glycerol. The crystals belong to the orthorhombic space group
P212121, with unit cell dimensions a 82.05, b 145.77, and c
193.25 Å, and contain six monomers per asymmetric unit.
Data were collected at cryogenic temperatures by using
beamline ID14-3 of the European Synchrotron Research Facility
(Grenoble, France). The data were collected at a wavelength of
0.931 Å with an oscillation angle of 0.2° and were processed by
using MOSFLM (20) and SCALA (21) from the CCP4 suite (22).
Data collection and processing statistics are summarized in
Table 3.
Structure Determination and Refinement. The structure of the
T199D mutant was solved by molecular replacement implemented
in the program MOLREP (23) by using the original 9
desaturase structure (19) (Protein Data Bank ID code 1AFR) as
the search model. The model obtained was refined by using a
combination of simulated annealing with the use of the Crystallography
and NMR System (CNS) software suite (24) and
refinement by the maximum-likelihood method in REFMAC5
(15). Atomic displacement parameters were refined in REFMAC
by the TLS (translation, liberation, screw) method, with
each of the six monomers in the asymmetric unit treated as a
single TLS group. Tight 6-fold NCS restraints were used
throughout refinement to maximize the observation-toparameter
ratio. Graphics operations were performed in COOT
(25), and water molecules were manually added to the model in
COOT by using the 2Fo Fc map. Annealed omit maps were
calculated in CNS (24) and used to confirm the content of the
active site, as well as the reduced state of the diiron center.
The geometry of the refined structure was checked with
PROCHECK (26), and the refined parameters are summarized
in Table 3. The coordinates of the final model, in addition to the
structure factors, have been deposited in the Protein Data Bank
with the ID code 2J2F. All structural figures were produced by
using PyMol (27).
We thank Drs. L. Que, D. M. Kurtz, and D. Cabelli for helpful discussion.
We acknowledge the European Synchrotron Research Facility for beam
time allocation. This work was supported by the Office of Basic Energy
Sciences of the U.S. Department of Energy and the Laboratory Directed
Research and Development Program of the Brookhaven National Laboratory
(Project 03-094) (J.S.) and by the Swedish Foundation for
International Cooperation in Research and Higher Education and the
Swedish Research Council (Y.L.).
1. Wallar BJ, Lipscomb JD (1996) Chem Rev 96:2625–2657.
2. Que L, Jr, Tolman WB (2002) Angew Chem Int Ed 41:1114–1137.
3. Shanklin J, Cahoon EB (1998) Annu Rev Plant Physiol Plant Mol Biol
49:611–641.
4. Gomes CM, Le Gall J, Xavier AV, TeixeiraM(2001) Chembiochem 2:583–587.
5. Gassner GT, Lippard SJ (1999) Biochemistry 38:12768–12785.
6. Broadwater JA, Ai J, Loehr TM, Sanders-Loehr J, Fox BG (1998) Biochemistry
37:14664–14671.
7. Moche M, Shanklin J, Ghoshal A, Lindqvist Y (2003) J Biol Chem 278:25072–
25080.
8. Jin S, Kurtz DM, Jr, Liu ZJ, Rose J, Wang BC (2002) J Am Chem Soc
124:9845–9855.
9. Fox BG, Shanklin J, Somerville C, Munck E (1993) Proc Natl Acad Sci USA
90:2486–2490.
10. Haas JA, Fox BG (2002) Biochemistry 41:14472–14481.
11. Haas JA, Fox BG (1999) Biochemistry 38:12833–12840.
12. Kurtz DM, Jr (2006) J Inorg Biochem 100:679–693.
13. Fushinobu S, Shoun H, Wakagi T (2003) Biochemistry 42:11707–11715.
14. Frazao C, Silva G, Gomes CM, Matias P, Coelho R, Sieker L, Macedo S, Liu
MY, Oliveira S, Teixeira M, et al. (2000) Nat Struct Biol 7:1041–1045.
15. Yoon S, Lippard SJ (2004) J Am Chem Soc 126:16692–16693.
16. Whittle E, Shanklin J (2001) J Biol Chem 276:21500–21505.
17. Cahoon EB, Shanklin J (2000) Proc Natl Acad Sci USA 97:12350–12355.
18. Cahoon EB, Coughlan S, Shanklin J (1997) Plant Mol Biol 33:1105–1110.
19. Lindqvist Y, Huang W, Schneider G, Shanklin J (1996) EMBO J 15:4081–4092.
20. Leslie AG (1999) Acta Crystallogr D 55:1696–1702.
21. Evans PR (1993) Data Collection and Processing (Daresbury Laboratory,
Warrington, UK).
22. Collaborative Computational Project, Number 4 (1994) Acta Crystallogr D
50:760–763.
23. Vagin A, Teplyakov A (1997) J Appl Crystallogr 30:1022–1025.
24. Brunger AT, Adams PD, Clore GM, DeLano WL, Gros P, Grosse-Kunstleve
RW, Jiang JS, Kuszewski J, Nilges M, Pannu NS, et al. (1998) Acta Crystallogr
D 54:905–921.
25. Emsley P, Cowtan K (2004) Acta Crystallogr D 60:2126–2132.
26. Laskowski RA, MacArthur MW, Moss DS, Thornton JM (1993) J Appl
Crystallogr 26:283–291.
27. DeLano WL (2002) The PyMOL Molecular Graphics System (DeLano Scientific,
San Carlos, CA).
17224 www.pnas.org cgi doi 10.1073 pnas.0607165103 Guy et al.

 14 dic 2009 @ 5:13 PM 

Pollution-eating bacteria produce electricity

June 7th, 2005

Microbiologists seeking ways to eliminate pollution from waterways with microbes instead discovered that some pollution-eating bacteria commonly found in freshwater ponds can generate electricity. They present their findings today at the 105th General Meeting of the American Society for Microbiology.

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“The bacteria are capable of continuously generating electricity at levels that could be used to operate small electronic devices. As long as the bacteria are fed fuel they are able to produce electricity 24 hours a day,” says Charles Milliken of the Medical University of South Carolina, who conducted the research with colleague Harold May.

The use of bacteria to create electricity is not necessarily a new idea. Other researchers have developed microbial fuel cells using simple sugars or organic waste products. What makes Milliken’s and May’s discovery so unique is the bacterium itself. It is the member of a genus known as Desulfitobacterium, which up until now was not known to have the capacity to generate electricity. These bacteria are most commonly known for their ability to breakdown and detoxify some of the most problematic environmental pollutants, including PCBs and some chemical solvents.

“These bacteria are very diverse in their metabolic capabilities, including the food that they can consume. That means that these bacteria can convert a large number of different food sources into electricity,” says Milliken. “The technology could be used to assist in the reclamation of wastewaters, thereby resulting in the removal of waste and generation of electricity.”

Another unique characteristic of these bacteria is that they are the first known spore-forming bacteria shown to continuously generate electricity. A bacterial spore is a dormant stage of growth for the organism and is highly resistant to heat, radiation and drying. Such characteristics could prove useful in future microbial fuel cell designs where the device need not always be operational but must survive long periods of hazardous conditions before being used.

“The generation of electricity is one of those things that we tend not to think about during our daily routines. When we do, thoughts on bacteria usually do not enter our minds. Bacteria make you sick, they are important in the processing of food, but making electricity? Surely that is not part of the story. But it is,” says Milliken.

Source: American Society for Microbiology

 14 dic 2009 @ 5:06 PM 

Animals used enzymes convert organic chemicals: Lipid and protein, … energy into raising living body, such as energy absorber to raising living cells, the division in the body and stimulates born cells and raising living body, while the organic substances are destroying part. HIV-AIDS virus are: (Envelope protein, Matrix proteins, protein Capsule), HIV Virus attacks Cell, T-cell (CD45), when to penetrate Cells, T-cell (CD45) in the immune system, they Break out, then stick them on the cell surface, the Transmembrane Glycoprotein (gp120-HIV virus) attacking T-cell (CD45), and spread quickly causing reduction in T-cell (CD45). And in T-cell (CD45) are: (Cytokine, Anti-Cytokine antibody, Fluorescent conjugate), Fluorescent in T-cell (CD45) have the seeds electron, so use the electron stream are low-intensity stimulation will be born T-cell (CD45), and the cancellation protein (the body uses protein in the development of hair, that the treatment of cancer with laser also lose hair , so electron killed protein. The effect of the causes physical, such as ultraviolet, ultrasonic waves … Or chemical factors such as acid, strong alkaline, salt heavy metals, … the structural level two, level three and four of the protein changes but were not disrupted the structure of a level 1, accompanied it is the changing nature of the protein compared with the original, the loss of the biological original, the ability to take charge, the ability to hold water decrease, reduction of dissolved as the roadmap groups kỵ countries already go to inside the protein molecule. It is a phenomenon changes the protein. From then use the appropriate electron stream will stimulate T-cell development and kill the virus HIV (which is the main protein). Treatment of patients with AIDS in electron with experimental method appropriate for a long time expect the HIV-virus will disappear.

 14 dic 2009 @ 4:59 PM 

By Alison Palkhivala
WebMD Feature

July 30, 2001 — Who wouldn’t like to get their hands on a naturally occurring substance that acts as an antioxidant, an immune system booster, and a detoxifier? Something that can help your body repair damage caused by stress, pollution, radiation, infection, drugs, poor diet, aging, injury, trauma, and burns?

A handful of researchers are saying the antioxidant glutathione can do all that and maybe more. But can you believe such sweeping claims? What’s the evidence to back them up? Here are what three experts have to say:

What Is Glutathione?

“Glutathione is a very interesting, very small molecule that’s [produced by the body and] found in every cell,” says Gustavo Bounous, MD, director of research and development at Immunotec and a retired professor of surgery at McGill University in Montreal, Canada. “It’s the [body's] most important antioxidant because it’s within the cell.”

Antioxidants — the most well known of which are vitamins C and E — are important for good health because they neutralize free radicals, which can build up in cells and cause damage. Because glutathione exists within the cells, it is in a prime position to neutralize free radicals. It also has potentially widespread health benefits because it can be found in all types of cells, including the cells of the immune system, whose job is to fight disease.

Glutathione occurs naturally in many foods, and people who eat well probably have enough in their diets, says Dean Jones, PhD, professor of biochemistry and director of nutritional health sciences at Emory University in Atlanta. Those with diets high in fresh fruits and vegetables and freshly prepared meats are most likely just fine. On the other hand, those with poor diets may get too little.

What Does Glutathione Do?

The strong antioxidant effect of glutathione helps keep cells running smoothly. Bounous and another glutathione expert, Jeremy Appleton, ND, say it also helps the liver remove chemicals that are foreign to the body, such as drugs and pollutants.

Appleton is chairman of the department of nutrition at the National College of Naturopathic Medicine in Portland, Ore., and senior science editor for Healthnotes, a database on complementary and alternative medicine available at newspaper stands and health food stores.

Evidence for the important role that glutathione plays in health comes from studies in people who are severely ill.

“If you look in a hospital situation at people who have cancer, AIDS, or other very serious disease, almost invariably they are depleted in glutathione,” says Appleton. “The reasons for this are not completely understood, but we do know that glutathione is extremely important for maintaining intracellular health.”

How Should Glutathione Be Taken?

Glutathione is probably not well absorbed into the body when taken by mouth. One way to get around that is to take it by vein. A more practical solution is to take the precursors — that is, the molecules the body needs to make glutathione — rather than glutathione itself. While there is no solid proof this works, the consensus among experts is that that doing so will increase the amount of glutathione in the cells.

Bounous has developed a glutathione-enhancing product called Immunocal, which is made up of glutathione precursors, mainly the amino acid cysteine.

Who Does Glutathione Help?

Animal and laboratory studies have demonstrated that glutathione has the potential to fight almost any disease, particularly those associated with aging, since free radical damage is the cause of many of the diseases of old age.

“Theoretically, there are many very strong arguments in favor of a therapeutic use of glutathione,” says Appleton. “But when people have actually tried to use glutathione as an oral supplement, nasal spray, or intravenously, the results have been more of a preliminary nature. The amount of research on glutathione as a supplement … is very limited.”

Nevertheless, people have tried glutathione for the treatment of a whole host of conditions, including cancer, high blood pressure, Parkinson’s disease, Alzheimer’s disease, cataracts, and male infertility.

The best studies have been conducted in cancer. One study involved women with ovarian cancer who were being treated with chemotherapy. Some of the women were also treated with intravenous glutathione. Those given the glutathione not only had fewer side effects from the chemotherapy but also had better overall survival rates.

Myriam Abalain of Montreal, Canada, is one of the many people who have taken Bounous’s Immunocal to combat cancer. In 1996, at age 33, a routine PAP smear revealed she had precancerous cells on her cervix, which is one step away from having cervical cancer. The three specialists she visited all told her that a hysterectomy was her only option, but she hesitated to have such major, life-altering surgery.

Instead, she waited. For more than two years, her condition remained stable. Then a friend suggested she try Immunocal. After eight months of taking the supplement, her physician could no longer detect any precancerous cells. Does this mean Immunocal cured her? It’s hard to say based on just one case like hers. It is possible her body went into remission naturally.

Even Bounous acknowledges there’s no real proof his product cured her cancer, but he’s working on conducting good clinical research, comparing individuals with cancer taking glutathione to those who are not.

What Are the Risks?

Overall, taking glutathione or its precursors in reasonable amounts appears to be quite safe, although it should be avoided in people with milk protein allergies and in those who have received an organ transplant. There is also some concern, however, about the safety of taking glutathione for the one condition for which there is the greatest evidence of its usefulness: cancer.

“People don’t get concerned about these health-promoting [supplements] until they’re in their 50s and 60s,” says Emory’s Dean Jones. At that point, they may already have the initial precancerous [cells]. Therefore, the supplements, just like they promote health in normal tissues, might promote health in the precancerous tissue.”

Appleton recognizes this possibility but says “there’s no evidence that supplementing with glutathione, even intravenously, is in any way going to make any cancer worse. In fact, the evidence we have suggests the opposite. It suggests that glutathione and other antioxidants, far from interfering with the activity of chemotherapy, appear to reduce side effects without decreasing efficacy and may, in fact, improve the efficacy of the chemotherapy in fighting cancer.”

Bounous says his research has demonstrated that taking Immunocal actually lowers glutathione in cancer cells while increasing it in normal cells. As a result, the cancer cells are more vulnerable to chemotherapy, and the normal cells are protected.

The upshot? The experts disagree on who should take glutathione or its precursors. Bounous says everyone should take it in order to optimize overall health. Appleton would reserve it for people with cancer. Jones says it might only prove beneficial for those who eat poorly and are thus unlikely to be getting much glutathione or its precursors in their diet.

They all acknowledge that people with severe diseases known to be associated with low glutathione levels, such as AIDS, may well benefit from the supplement, although there is no proof to this effect.

For her part, Myriam Abalain is still taking Immunocal and feeling fine. “I’m doing pretty good now,” she says. “I’m in better shape than ever!”

 14 dic 2009 @ 4:53 PM 

Shocking treatment proposed for AIDS.

Shocking treatment proposed for AIDS

Zapping the AIDS virus with low-voltage electric current can nearly eliminate its ability to infect human white blood cells

Mentioned in: Abscess Incision & Drainage, Bone Marrow Transplantation, Complement Deficiencies
….. Click the link for more information. cultured in the laboratory, reports a research team at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine

For the engineering company, see AECOM
The Albert Einstein College of Medicine (AECOM) is a graduate school of Yeshiva University. It is a private medical school located in the Jack and Pearl Resnick Campus of Yeshiva University in the Morris Park
….. Click the link for more information. in New York City New York City: see New York, city.

New York City

City (pop., 2000: 8,008,278), southeastern New York, at the mouth of the Hudson River. The largest city in the U.S. .

William D. Lyman and his colleagues found the exposure to 50 to 100 microamperes of electricity — comparable to that produced by a cardiac pacemaker — reduced the infectivity of the AIDS virus (HIV HIV (Human Immunodeficiency Virus), either of two closely related retroviruses that invade T-helper lymphocytes and are responsible for AIDS. There are two types of HIV: HIV-1 and HIV-2. HIV-1 is responsible for the vast majority of AIDS in the United States. ) by 50 to 95 percent. Their experiments, described March 14 in Washington, D.C., at the First International Symposium on Combination Therapies, showed that the shocked viruses lost the ability to make an enzyme crucial to their reproduction, and could no longer cause the white cells to clump together — two key signs of virus infection.

The finding could lead to tests of implantable electrical devices or dialysis-like blood treatments in HIV-infected patients, Lyman says. In addition, he suggests that blood banks might use electricity to zap HIV, and vaccine developers might use electrically incapacitated in·ca·pac·i·tate
tr.v. in·ca·pac·i·tat·ed, in·ca·pac·i·tat·ing, in·ca·pac·i·tates
1. To deprive of strength or ability; disable.

2. To make legally ineligible; disqualify. viruses as the basis for an AIDS vaccine. For scientists working to create contraceptive devices that repel sperm with electricity, the new study also hints at a lifesaving side effect: protection against HIV.

 09 dic 2009 @ 3:16 AM 

Prof. Dario Di Francesco, Prof. Michele Mazzanti, Dr. Andrea Barbuti, Dr. Mirko Baruscotti, Dr. Enzo Mancinelli (April 9, 2008)

Molecular Physiology and Neurobiology Unit investigates the properties of different ion channels.

A major project involves the pacemaker (”funny”) channel, originally described in cardiac “pacemaker” cells of the sinoatrial node (SAN) (Brown, DiFrancesco & Noble, 1979, Nature 280, 235) and actively investigated since in cardiac myocytes and in neurons. Cardiac rhythmic activity is generated by “pacemaker” cells, which in mammals are located in the sino-atrial node. Action potentials of SAN cells have a special phase, called diastolic (or pacemaker) depolarization, which at the end of an action potential slowly takes the membrane voltage up to threshold for firing of a new action potential, thus inducing repetitive activity. Activation of If is the mechanism underlying the pacemaker depolarization. The If current is also modulated by intracellular cAMP, according to a mechanism responsible for the neurotransmitter-induced modulation of cardiac rate. A similar pacemaker current (Ih) is also expressed in neurons. In sensory neurons Ih is involved in the perception of external stimuli, or in modulating the transduction of sensory stimuli into electrical signalling. Ih is also expressed in pre-synaptic membranes, where it is involved in plasticity phenomena.

 09 dic 2009 @ 3:11 AM 

Edward L. PAUL; 2006 A transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation device and method using a microcurrent with a carrier signal and a square wave form for promoting cell repair and/or healing. It has been found that applying particular wave forms of direct current with a carrier wave signal with specified intervals promotes cell healing especially in treatment of macular degeneration. This method and nerve stimulation device is packaged to require no input from a user and a user must only apply the electrodes to the correct part of the body and start the preprogrammed sequence of electrical currents. The method involves applying bursts of direct current at higher frequencies for shorter periods of time followed by lower frequency bursts of electrical current for longer periods of time.

 08 dic 2009 @ 5:16 AM 

Jennifer D. Allen, MEd, ATC, Carl G. Mattacola, PhD, ATC, and David H. Perrin, PhD, ATC; 1999

Objective:
To examine the efficacy of microcurrent electrical neuromuscular stimulation (MENS) treatment on pain and loss of range of motion (ROM) associated with delayed-onset muscle soreness (DOMS).
Design and Setting:
We assigned subjects to 1 of 2 groups. Group 1 received treatment with microcurrent stimulation (200 μA, 30 Hz, for 10 minutes, then 100 μA, 0.3 Hz, for 10 minutes) 24, 48, and 72 hours after DOMS induction. Group 2 served as a sham group and was treated using a machine altered by the manufacturer so that no current could flow through the electrodes.
Subjects:
DOMS was induced in the biceps brachii of the nondominant arm of 18 subjects (3 males, 15 females: age = 20.33 ± 2.3 years, ht = 170.81 ± 7.3 cm, wt = 69.61 ± 13.1 kg). Dominance was defined as the arm used by the subject to throw a ball.
Measurements:
Subjective pain and active elbow extension ROM were evaluated before and after treatment each day. Two methods were used to assess pain: constant pressure using a weighted Orthoplast sphere and full elbow extension to the limit of pain tolerance. Subjective pain was measured with a graphic rating scale and active elbow extension ROM using a standard, plastic, double-armed goniometer. Three repeated-measures ANOVAs (between-subjects variable was group, within- subjects variables were day and test) were used to assess ROM and pain scores for the 2 groups.
Results:
We found no significant difference in the measurement of subjective pain scores or elbow extension ROM when the MENS group was compared with the sham group.
Conclusions:
Our results indicate that the MENS treatment, within the parameters used for this experiment, was not effective in reducing the pain or loss of ROM associated with delayed-onset muscle soreness.


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