Aminopyrine came on the scene in the early 20th century when scientists were on the hunt for alternatives to coal tar-based fever reducers. Early painkillers like acetanilide and phenacetin had problems, mostly toxicity, and often led to nasty side effects and sometimes even deaths. Researchers kept their eyes on the prize: better pain relief with fewer risks. Emil Fischer, a Nobel Prize-winning German chemist, paved the way for people to play with molecular structures. He handed the blueprint to folks who isolated aminopyrine in 1897. By 1920, aminopyrine sat on pharmacy shelves around Europe, marketed as Pyramidon. Doctors handed it out for headaches, muscle pain, fever—sometimes a little too freely. In its day, this drug gained a reputation for reliable results, and its use spread like wildfire through much of the world. Over the decades, adverse reactions, especially dangerous drops in white blood cell counts (called agranulocytosis), led to growing concern. Most Western countries pulled aminopyrine off the market for human use by the 1970s, especially after safer alternatives like paracetamol arrived. Despite all this, aminopyrine still finds work as a research chemical and, in rare cases, with veterinary use.
This compound, also called amidopyrine, exists as a pyrazolone derivative—meaning it’s built around a five-membered ring with nitrogen atoms and double bonds. Its main strength lies in tackling pain and bringing down fever. Folks used to take it as tablets or powders. In labs today, it helps measure liver function, thanks to the body's specific way of processing it. Precision and consistency in manufacturing mean every batch of aminopyrine must meet strict benchmarks. Cheaper versions sometimes show up in markets where regulatory oversight falls short, but established pharmaceutical companies hold to rigid standards. Anyone working with aminopyrine must respect its quirks, given its checkered past.
Aminopyrine stands out as a white, crystalline powder with a slightly bitter taste. With a molar mass of about 203 g/mol, you can smell a hint of sweetness, but you wouldn’t want to inhale or taste it on purpose. It dissolves easily in water and alcohol, which makes pharmaceutical formulations convenient. Chemically, its structure features a pyrazolone ring with a dimethylamino group at one end. This group sets aminopyrine apart from its cousins, giving it unique pharmacological actions. It melts at about 110°C, but direct heat leads to its breakdown, which means storage conditions matter a lot. Even traces of light, air, or moisture cause slow decomposition, so you’ll usually see it packed in dark, airtight bottles.
Aminopyrine sold for lab use demands a high purity standard, typically upward of 99%. Impurities like acetanilide, tarry byproducts, or breakdown products must fall below 0.2%. Each container comes stamped with a batch number, manufacturing date, and expiration date. Labels also show specific warnings—“Toxic by ingestion. For laboratory use only” stays front and center. Country-to-country variation comes out in the paperwork; some include safety data sheets glued right to the package. Storage instructions call for cool, dry, and dark environments. Some research suppliers go further by including a certificate of analysis, letting customers know the precise breakdown of any minor compounds lurking in the product.
Labs synthesize aminopyrine from phenylhydrazine and ethyl acetoacetate. First, a reaction produces antipyrine, another old-school painkiller. Then, a second reaction with dimethyl sulfate or a similar methylating agent transforms antipyrine into aminopyrine. Chemists favor special solvents and catalysts to boost yield and keep waste down. Every step comes with hazards—phenylhydrazine is pretty toxic, and dimethyl sulfate can do serious harm even after brief skin contact. Old manufacturing plants didn’t shield workers much; today’s setups keep everything sealed in controlled reactors. Distillation and crystallization finish off the process, helping to remove leftover solvents or unreacted chemicals. Waste handling draws scrutiny too, since leftovers can harm the environment if not neutralized or incinerated.
Aminopyrine undergoes N-demethylation in the human liver—a major reason scientists use it as a probe for liver enzyme function. The process turns aminopyrine into 4-aminoantipyrine, a key step in drug metabolism research. Chemists can modify aminopyrine’s structure in several ways: adding halogen atoms at certain positions changes its solubility or activity, while acylation of the amino group sometimes blocks its painkilling effect. Researchers experimented with various substitutions over the years in hopes of reducing toxicity or changing biological activity. Few of these analogs ever toppled aminopyrine’s painkilling reputation, but they taught generations of drug makers what did—or didn’t—work chemically in the quest for a safe analgesic.
Over its century-long run, aminopyrine’s alias list grew long. You’ll find it listed as amidopyrine, 4-dimethylaminoantipyrine, pyramidon, and by less common names like dimethylaminoantipyrine. On pharmacy shelves, “Pyramidon” and “Pamidone” raised the public face. In research circles, it usually pops up under its systematic name, as “4-(Dimethylamino)-1,5-dimethyl-2-phenyl-1,2-dihydro-3H-pyrazol-3-one”—unwieldy, but clear for chemists tracking papers. Each name marks a different chapter, whether in medicine, chemistry, or regulatory history.
Modern users of aminopyrine must suit up. Lab coats, gloves, chemical safety goggles, and masks—these count as standard procedure. Ingestion, inhalation, or skin contact all bring real danger: it can cause blood disorders and trigger fatal allergic reactions. European and American law classify it as hazardous, barring it from human medicine except in rare lab applications. Waste must run through authorized disposal: untrained staff pouring leftovers down drains is a fast track to water contamination. Each handling step needs careful documentation—who used it, how much got weighed, what was disposed, how surfaces were cleaned. Surfaces anywhere near the drug need regular swabbing. Regulatory audits bite hard if someone skips even one step. These rules do more than check a box; for people who have watched lab mishaps unfold, robust procedures keep everyone coming home in one piece.
Aminopyrine lost its job as a mainstream painkiller, but it carved out a niche in scientific research. Medical researchers use it to test how well a person’s liver metabolizes drugs. After a test dose, doctors can measure breath samples to track radioactively labeled carbon, giving a readout of liver enzyme activity. Veterinary use hangs on in a few countries for horses and cattle, though concerns continue to grow about farm worker safety. Most of its value today comes from drug metabolism studies—helping design safer, smarter painkillers and anti-inflammatories. Each experiment lets scientists learn about human biochemistry, which shapes tomorrow’s medicine.
Aminopyrine doesn’t inspire headlines anymore, but research keeps moving. The cytochrome P450 enzyme system lights up under study thanks to this compound’s unique metabolism. Drug companies still design whole projects around its chemical backbone, hunting for the sweet spot between powerful pain relief and fewer side effects. Machine learning now chews through structural analogs of aminopyrine by the thousands, ranking which molecules to test in cell cultures. This streamlining means new substances reach animal trials faster than ever. Even toxicologists mining old clinical studies keep aminopyrine in view—with a hundred years of data, one overlooked clue might change how labs approach safety in new drugs.
A wave of studies since the 1950s spelled trouble for aminopyrine. The most famous problem, agranulocytosis, often strikes without warning—people felt fine, then crashed into infections their bodies couldn’t fight. Some investigations put the risk as high as 1 in 5000 users, with fatal cases on the public record. Even as recent as the 1970s, hospital wards reported clusters of sometimes deadly blood disorders, pushing regulators to demand new safeguards or pull products from pharmacy shelves. Long-term animal studies have mapped out other dangers: repeated exposure can stunt blood cell production in bone marrow, stress the liver, and impact fertility in laboratory rodents. Because its damage runs through human immune systems, genetic factors play a large role—some people might never know the risk until it’s too late. That kind of wildcard risk has kept authorities skeptical, long after public demand dropped.
The story of aminopyrine brings lessons for every chemist and doctor. It remains a cautionary tale about looking before leaping, especially with drugs that seem like miracle cures out of the gate. The future will not likely see a return to aminopyrine as a pill for headaches or fever, unless genetic screening or targeted therapies can spin old risks into something much safer. On the research side, its ability to flag differences in liver function should hold value for a long time. Drug developers building new painkillers still look at aminopyrine analogs for clues—and newer technologies like CRISPR gene editing or AI-driven molecule design might find ways to dodge the old dangers. A century after its debut, aminopyrine's story keeps shaping science and policy, reminding researchers to weigh every benefit against real-world cost.
People used to rely on aminopyrine for headaches, toothaches, muscle pain, and fever. This simple-looking white powder packed a punch, easing misery for millions. Doctors trusted it. Pharmacies stocked it. Patients carried tablets in their pockets before Aspirin claimed the spotlight. Secret behind its popularity? Aminopyrine worked—fast. It brought relief like flipping a switch on stubborn pain. But as science dug deeper, a tough truth surfaced. The relief came with a risk.
Reports of dangerous side effects began to add up by the late 1950s. White blood cell counts dropped dangerously in a few unlucky patients who took this drug. This rare but deadly condition, agranulocytosis, leaves the body open to infections it can’t fight off. Studies from Europe and the United States confirmed the risk. Hospitals saw infections that antibiotics struggled to treat. Governments paid attention. Health authorities in the U.S. and Europe decided that while aminopyrine could ease pain, it wasn’t worth gambling with a person’s immune system. Swift restrictions followed. By the 1970s, aminopyrine had vanished from pharmacy shelves in most developed countries.
In some corners of the world, old habits die hard. Certain countries stick with aminopyrine, usually because newer drugs can cost more or supply chains run thin. Pharmacies there still sell it to folks nursing a fever or a toothache. This isn’t about stubbornness. Here in the real world, patients don’t always have a menu of options. When faced with a pain you can’t ignore and a wallet you can’t fill, people reach for whatever helps, even if it means taking a risk.
Doctors and nurses working in low-resource clinics face tough calls every day. The global drug supply chain isn’t equal. Access shapes every prescription. If aminopyrine is the only painkiller at hand, turning it down isn’t so simple. You need to see your patient’s pain and their environment. Think about what you’d do for your own family. That’s real medicine.
Aminopyrine taught medicine a hard lesson about side effects and safety. It pushed researchers to start looking much harder at how every drug impacts each body. Real lives, not just clinical trials. This drug’s story underscores the need for careful testing, honest communication with patients, and strong drug monitoring. Data helps people trust healthcare. Without it, myths fill the gaps. I’ve seen relatives save leftover pills or share old bottles across family lines, not knowing the risks. When life throws a headache you can’t shake, informed choices actually matter.
Paracetamol and ibuprofen now fill the role aminopyrine once played. Safer, more closely studied, and accessible in most countries, these drugs handle pain without the same level of threat to the immune system. Health workers need support in spreading the word about better options and side effects to watch for. Big changes happen one conversation at a time. I remember a village nurse explaining why regular fevers didn’t need the “old white pill.” Her honesty helped people think twice before reaching for whatever medicine they found at home.
The story of aminopyrine deals with more than just one medicine. It highlights how fact-based decisions, patient education, and access to modern treatments protect lives every single day. Hard lessons build a foundation for safer care—for everyone.
Aminopyrine once filled medicine cabinets across the world for pain and fever relief. Most people who took it decades ago probably don’t remember the name, but they’ll know it was prescribed before over-the-counter ibuprofen or acetaminophen became the go-to choices. For doctors, it worked well at lowering fever and quieting headaches or muscle pain.
Aminopyrine comes with a warning label, and the risk isn’t some mild rash or upset stomach. The danger stems from a reaction called agranulocytosis: a sudden drop in certain white blood cells that fight infection. Without this protection, even a small cut or a cold could spiral into a life-threatening infection. The scary thing is that this side effect often arrives without warning — someone feels fine, then wakes up sick and getting worse fast.
Physicians began seeing more cases of people hit with unexplained infections after taking aminopyrine. In the early 20th century, even a minor infection could carry serious risks. Once the medical community realized there was a pattern—healthy patients taking the drug, then dropping white cell counts—the calls to restrict and eventually ban its use followed.
Beyond the drop in white cells, aminopyrine use has caused other reactions. Some people have developed allergic responses, such as rashes, swelling, or even trouble breathing. A small number have suffered from liver damage or jaundice. Gastrointestinal complaints, like nausea or vomiting, have also been reported. None of these symptoms make it worth the gamble, considering safer painkillers exist today.
In my own years talking with relatives and older patients, I’ve noticed some remember “pain powders” or tablets their parents would give them for colds or flu. Many of these older remedies contained aminopyrine. Those stories almost always come with a tale of someone winding up far sicker than expected. Once medical knowledge caught up, doctors steered families away from these treatments.
Aminopyrine has faded out of practice for a reason. Science and health authorities responded to mounting evidence and decided that even rare, deadly side effects outweigh whatever comfort people found in those old powders or tablets. The FDA banned its use in the United States. Other countries followed as more reports of agranulocytosis surfaced in medical journals.
Safer painkillers now fill pharmacy shelves. Ibuprofen and acetaminophen offer good relief, with minimal risk if taken as directed. These alternatives don’t tend to wipe out the body’s infection-fighting cells. Staying informed and choosing better options makes sense, not just for individuals but for families who don’t want to risk turning something minor, like a headache, into an emergency room visit.
Stories about aminopyrine remind us how quickly drugs can shift from wonder cures to real threats. Checking for up-to-date guidance before reaching for leftover pills or unregulated treatments helps everyone stay safer. If a country still allows aminopyrine in circulation, both the public and healthcare workers should push for clear warnings and, ideally, removal from the market.
Clear communication saved lives before and will keep doing so. Older medications often carry heavier risks, and aminopyrine stands as a strong example of why it pays to keep learning from history.
As long as medicine has tried to manage pain and fever, many drugs have come and gone. Aminopyrine earned its place in the pharmacy decades ago. Doctors and patients counted on it for headache, muscular pains, toothaches. It worked, for the most part, and for a time pharmacies stocked bottles beside aspirin and acetaminophen. But a medicine’s story can change, and aminopyrine’s second chapter is cautionary.
What’s always made aminopyrine a tricky friend is how it sometimes turns against your body. I remember a neighbor’s father, older fellow from the South, would take something for chronic aches—he never knew what the little tablets were called. Turned out, it was aminopyrine, and he brushed off the warning when his doctor finally mentioned it. Some weeks later, he wound up in the ER with fever, mouth ulcers, and his blood counts far too low. The diagnosis was agranulocytosis, one of the most feared complications of this drug. There was no allergy or slow side-effect buildup: it hit all at once, and he never took the stuff again.
Research has backed up countless stories like his. Doctors learned in the 1970s and 1980s that aminopyrine carries a real risk for severe bone marrow suppression, and this risk climbs the longer you take it. A paper in the British Medical Journal put the rate of agranulocytosis as high as one in 5,000 patients, which in the world of drug safety sets off loud alarms. Part of the real danger: you won’t get a warning signal before your body’s white blood cells disappear, and without those cells, you’re prey to every infection around.
The rollout of safer alternatives knocked aminopyrine off pharmacy shelves in the U.S., much of Europe, and even parts of Asia. Not every country has placed a full ban, but drug formularies have moved on. Paracetamol and ibuprofen do the job for most aches and bring far fewer surprises. Medical societies now recommend aminopyrine only if allergy or rare circumstance makes other drugs impossible.
The major concern comes in places where older habits persist and regulations don’t reach. Some people believe “what worked for granddad works for me.” Yet agricultural workers, folks in remote clinics, or those with low access to doctors sometimes keep using aminopyrine years beyond when major bodies warned against it.
I’ve seen in clinic that older patients or traveling expats ask about “that old pain pill—Pyramidon,” a trade name for aminopyrine. Often, doctors have to break hard news: that short-term relief just isn’t worth gambling with blood count disasters.
The best approach always starts with education. Patients need plain talk about what drugs work and what risks run too high. Practitioners do better by staying updated on which painkillers actually have a safety record behind them, not just tradition.
Regulators and health ministries that haven’t acted might take cues from countries that dropped aminopyrine years ago. Still, real change happens when people trust doctors to offer safer, better options—and when pharmacies don’t carry drugs that time has passed by. Long-term use of aminopyrine isn’t just risky; today, with so many alternatives, the risk just means unnecessary suffering.
Aminopyrine once showed up in medicine cabinets around the world, best known for knocking back fevers and taking care of headache pain. Many lost track of this pain reliever in recent decades, and for good reason—it turned out some folks faced serious side effects like bone marrow suppression, even after a few doses. Not surprisingly, most drug regulators pulled it from pharmacy shelves. Despite that history, some countries still approve its use for specific cases. Knowing how to take it safely matters, especially when doctors decide the benefits outweigh the risks.
Doctors don’t prescribe aminopyrine lightly. They look closely at a person’s full story: history, allergies, risk factors, and whether other options failed to do the job. For people with a previous bad reaction to similar medicines (like phenylbutazone or aspirin), even a single dose can trigger trouble. Blood disorders, liver problems, or pregnancy also give most doctors pause.
Standard dosing comes down to age, weight, and how sick someone feels. An adult might see instructions for 500 to 1000 milligrams by mouth, up to four times each day. Taking more doesn’t mean faster or better relief. Overdoing aminopyrine risks turning a simple fever fix into a life-long health struggle—one of the reasons most physicians insist folks take only the lowest dose for the shortest time.
Tempting as it feels to dip into an old stash from a relative, aminopyrine gives serious reminders that old painkillers aren’t always safe. Only experienced physicians run the tests needed to spot hidden risks. Blood counts and liver enzyme panels together offer one early warning system. People taking aminopyrine should stick with regular doctor visits and repeat blood work, checking for changes that might signal danger.
On an empty stomach, aminopyrine can cause nausea, so most take it with food or a glass of water. Spacing out doses during waking hours instead of bunching them together helps steady drug levels and prevent side effects. Skipping doses doesn’t mean doubling up later. If you miss one, wait for the next scheduled time. Never share leftover tablets or use them alongside other painkillers like acetaminophen or ibuprofen unless a doctor specifically says it’s safe.
Aminopyrine’s most dangerous risk involves the blood. If skin turns pale, gums bleed, or bruises pop up unexpectedly, it’s time to check in with the doctor without delay. Sore throat or fever can signal white cell drops, which demand immediate medical attention. These warnings aren’t rare scare tactics—they come from real-life stories and medical case reports.
Modern medicine has moved past aminopyrine not out of convenience but from hard lessons learned. Safer alternatives now offer similar benefits, usually with fewer risks. In places where aminopyrine still serves a purpose, healthcare teams do all they can to monitor and protect their patients. Trusting professional advice, following instructions closely, and keeping up with follow-up checks give people the best shot at safe recovery. Knowledge and vigilance still work as the strongest shields against any medicine’s hidden dangers.
Anyone who takes prescription medicine or over-the-counter drugs has worried about mixing the wrong products. Aminopyrine isn’t a familiar name in most households now, but it once showed up often in painkillers and fever remedies. For decades, doctors and patients counted on it to knock down headaches and sore muscles. But stories of side effects and unexpected drops in white blood cell count have pushed it out of common use in many countries, including the U.S.
Knowing what other drugs can do when combined with something like aminopyrine isn’t just about managing rare side effects. It’s about staying safe every time someone fills a prescription. Many folks understand how serious these effects can get: my grandmother took what seemed like an everyday medicine for her headaches, not realizing her new prescription for blood pressure could amplify the risk. Her doctor caught the problem, but not everyone gets that lucky.
Aminopyrine doesn’t just chase away pain; it can shake up the way the liver processes certain medications. The liver breaks down most drugs through enzymes, especially the cytochrome P450 family. When something affects these enzymes, the blood levels of other drugs can change fast—sometimes dramatically. That’s why mixing aminopyrine with other drugs that use the same enzyme pathways, like warfarin (an anticoagulant), can tilt blood thinner levels higher than expected and lead to dangerous bleeding.
Evidence from real-world cases paints a clear picture. Aminopyrine paired with sulfonamides or chloramphenicol—two kinds of antibiotics—can push the body toward risks like bone marrow suppression. For people fighting infections, that could mean a weaker immune system.
Some common medicines found in every home can stir the pot, too. Imagine someone taking aminopyrine along with acetaminophen. Both stress the liver. Daily drinkers, people dealing with hepatitis, or those on long-term medication lists are all especially at risk. It’s not just about having more side effects; it's about steeper risks of liver damage or a drop in infection-fighting white blood cells.
Being honest with doctors and pharmacists isn’t just good advice—it’s vital. In my experience with family members, not mentioning a home remedy or painkiller can set off a chain reaction. One conversation at the pharmacy, listing all the herbal supplements, cough syrup, or migraine tablets, made all the difference in catching a risky combination before it ever became a problem.
Healthcare systems now rely on pharmacists and digital prescription systems to flag trouble before pills leave the bottle. Every doctor’s visit, every refill, brings another chance to ask questions. Pharmacists are trained to spot these dangerous matches, and many electronic medical systems catch them, too, but signals can still get missed.
Home routines can help keep things safer. Writing out a list of all medications, supplements, and even vitamins and sharing it at every doctor or pharmacy visit isn’t just for folks with lots of prescriptions. A single missing detail could mean the difference between a safe treatment and an ER visit. Families who look out for one another, especially older relatives or those seeing several doctors, can help make sure everything lines up safely.
Newer painkillers and fever reducers now offer safer choices thanks to better research. Most doctors won’t prescribe aminopyrine anymore, but it still finds its way into use in different parts of the world. The smarter practice is asking questions any time two drugs will mix in the body. Real stories from families and research both point out the same thing: a recipe only works well if you know what’s inside each ingredient.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | 4-dimethylamino-1,5-dimethyl-2-phenyl-1,2-dihydro-3H-pyrazol-3-one |
| Other names |
4-Dimethylaminoantipyrine Pyramidon Aminophenazone Pyramidine Dipyrine |
| Pronunciation | /əˈmaɪn.oʊˌpaɪriːn/ |
| Preferred IUPAC name | 4-(Dimethylamino)-1,5-dimethyl-2-phenyl-1,2-dihydro-3H-pyrazol-3-one |
| Other names |
Aminophenazone Pyramidon Pyramidone Amidopyrine AMF |
| Pronunciation | /əˌmiː.nəˈpaɪˌriːn/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | 58-15-1 |
| Beilstein Reference | 1369231 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:2766 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL1287 |
| ChemSpider | 7077 |
| DrugBank | DB01435 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 03c459de-b749-497a-917e-7eeaf4e4854a |
| EC Number | 200-642-2 |
| Gmelin Reference | 8287 |
| KEGG | C07151 |
| MeSH | D000648 |
| PubChem CID | 2117 |
| RTECS number | UY9625000 |
| UNII | 81B23921QZ |
| UN number | UN2811 |
| CAS Number | 58-15-1 |
| Beilstein Reference | 1209288 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:2677 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL1405 |
| ChemSpider | 5464 |
| DrugBank | DB01436 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 13b9a9ad-88c6-4f57-a2b1-2e8c5abe6464 |
| EC Number | 200-529-9 |
| Gmelin Reference | 82298 |
| KEGG | C07008 |
| MeSH | D000649 |
| PubChem CID | 2117 |
| RTECS number | UY9625000 |
| UNII | 8A6IHT3726 |
| UN number | UN2811 |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | C13H17N3O |
| Molar mass | 231.29 g/mol |
| Appearance | White crystalline powder |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 1.078 g/cm3 |
| Solubility in water | slightly soluble |
| log P | 0.21 |
| Vapor pressure | 4.2×10⁻⁷ mmHg (at 25 °C) |
| Acidity (pKa) | 5.1 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 5.68 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | -70.0e-6 cm³/mol |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.614 |
| Viscosity | 2.73 mPa·s (20°C) |
| Dipole moment | 3.61 D |
| Chemical formula | C13H17N3O |
| Molar mass | 231.29 g/mol |
| Appearance | White crystalline powder |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 1.203 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | slightly soluble |
| log P | 0.1 |
| Vapor pressure | 0.0000348 mmHg at 25°C |
| Acidity (pKa) | 5.1 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 5.58 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | -722.0 × 10^-6 cm^3/mol |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.616 |
| Viscosity | 2.39 mPa·s |
| Dipole moment | 3.61 D |
| Thermochemistry | |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 333.6 J·mol⁻¹·K⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | -20.6 kJ/mol |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -3586 kJ mol⁻¹ |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 327.6 J·mol⁻¹·K⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | 57.4 kJ/mol |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -3837 kJ/mol |
| Pharmacology | |
| ATC code | N02BB05 |
| ATC code | N02BB01 |
| Hazards | |
| Main hazards | May cause damage to organs through prolonged or repeated exposure; harmful if swallowed; may cause allergic reactions; may cause blood disorders. |
| GHS labelling | GHS02, GHS07 |
| Pictograms | HP6, GHS07, GHS08, GHS09 |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Hazard statements | H301 + H311 + H331: Toxic if swallowed, in contact with skin or if inhaled. H351: Suspected of causing cancer. H362: May cause harm to breast-fed children. |
| Precautionary statements | P202, P264, P270, P301+P312, P330, P501 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 2-1-1 |
| Flash point | 102°C |
| Autoignition temperature | 460 °C |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD50 (oral, rat): 2050 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | LD50: 2,400 mg/kg (rat, oral) |
| NIOSH | 6000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | PEL: Not established |
| REL (Recommended) | 0.5 g daily |
| Main hazards | May cause cancer, harmful if swallowed, causes damage to blood, suspected of causing genetic defects. |
| GHS labelling | GHS02, GHS07 |
| Pictograms | health hazard, acute toxicity |
| Signal word | Danger |
| Hazard statements | H301 + H311 + H331: Toxic if swallowed, in contact with skin or if inhaled. H351: Suspected of causing cancer. H362: May cause harm to breast-fed children. |
| Precautionary statements | P260, P264, P270, P301+P310, P321, P405, P501 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 1-2-0-Health |
| Flash point | 194°C |
| Autoignition temperature | 482 °C |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD50 Rat oral 2,100 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | LD50 = 840 mg/kg (rat, oral) |
| NIOSH | UR8250000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | PEL: Not established |
| REL (Recommended) | 0.5-1 mg/kg |
| Related compounds | |
| Related compounds |
Dipyrone Antipyrine Propyphenazone Phenazone |
| Related compounds |
4-Dimethylaminophenazone Antipyrine |