© 2026 Sinochem Nanjing Corporation,
All Right Reserved
For decades, researchers have chased better antibiotics as drug resistance has surged. The mouthful of a molecule known as 7Beta-Amino-7Alpha-Methoxy-3-(1-Methyl-1H-Tetrazole-5-Thiomethyl)-8-Oxo-5-Thio-1-Hexaazabicyclo[4.2.0]Oct-2-Ene-2-Carboxylic Acid Diphenyl Methyl Ester reflects that race for innovation. Chemists drew on a long tradition of beta-lactam modification, spurred by penicillin’s early days in the 1940s and cephalosporins’ later rise. Stubborn strains like MRSA urged medicinal chemists to reimagine the beta-lactam, tweaking structures, adding side chains, and stacking molecular rings. Academic groups, government labs, and major pharmaceutical companies all placed high hopes on functionalized bicyclic scaffolds as seen here, picking through generations of chemical families to land on something better equipped for today’s infectious threats. This compound’s backstory, marked by collaboration and scientific persistence, tracks with medicine’s search for second winds when bacteria threaten our best tools.
Every time I see paperwork on 7Beta-Amino-7Alpha-Methoxy-3-(1-Methyl-1H-Tetrazole-5-Thiomethyl)-8-Oxo-5-Thio-1-Hexaazabicyclo[4.2.0]Oct-2-Ene-2-Carboxylic Acid Diphenyl Methyl Ester, one thing stands out: this isn’t your run-of-the-mill compound. Researchers and R&D chemists treat it as a specialty core in advanced beta-lactam antibiotic work. Its structure, jammed with protective groups and strategic modifications, hints at years of failed analogs leading up to its design. Today, it’s handled by specialists who aim to disrupt bacterial cell wall synthesis more vigorously than old-school antibiotics, taking particular interest in how its tetrazole and thioether substitutions hold up against beta-lactamase threats. It’s not on pharmacy shelves. Still, in labs, it’s a touchstone for synthesis protocols and structure-activity studies.
Handling this compound isn’t much like preparing everyday reagents. Its hefty molecular weight pushes over 500 grams per mole. There’s a dense, almost prismatic crystalline structure. Color ranges off-white to pale yellow, with little speculation about impurities—its purity often exceeds 98%. With strong methoxy and amino groups, alongside thio substituents, the molecule refuses to dissolve in water, so DMSO and DMF become the solvents of choice. Its melting point lands somewhere between 180–210°C based on batch purity. Chemical stability remains a concern: exposure to light or high temperature can trigger decomposition, so researchers store it away from direct sunlight, inside tightly sealed glass in temperature-monitored cabinets. Each group—methoxy, tetrazole, thioether—affects both pharmacodynamics and handling risks, stressing the need for robust safety practices.
Inside the lab, accuracy saves time and safety headaches. Bottles holding 7Beta-Amino-7Alpha-Methoxy-3-(1-Methyl-1H-Tetrazole-5-Thiomethyl)-8-Oxo-5-Thio-1-Hexaazabicyclo[4.2.0]Oct-2-Ene-2-Carboxylic Acid Diphenyl Methyl Ester wear regulatory and hazard labels that spell out every risk, from respiratory irritation to skin sensitization. Specifications typically list molecular weight and formula, purity levels, analytical data such as HPLC retention time, and NMR or mass spectrometry profiles for batch ID. Detailed storage data, recommended handling temperatures (often below 8°C), expiration warnings, and secondary labeling for emergency exposures underscore modern lab standards. In my experience, handling material like this means running through more than checklist compliance. Whether you’re prepping samples or logging inventory, every notation on the packaging hints at a tighter-than-usual chain of custody.
Synthesizing this compound puts your organic chemistry skills front and center. One route starts with a protected hexaazabicyclooctene nucleus, typically obtained through stepwise cyclization and amidation reactions. Tetrazole and thio methyl groups anchor onto the scaffold by careful nucleophilic substitutions, using bases like triethylamine in anhydrous solvents. Methoxy protections arrive next, usually through methylation under controlled basic conditions to minimize side reactions. The diphenyl methyl ester forms in late-stage steps, where phenyl chloromethane activates in the presence of organic bases—yielding mixtures that require chromatographic purification. Professional labs pay close attention at each cleanup stage, isolating desired products using reverse-phase HPLC and confirming structure by 1H NMR, FT-IR, and LC-MS. Small mistakes or deviations often mean weeks lost in repeat syntheses, which underscores the jump in skill demanded by this batch of chemical craftsmanship.
People sometimes ask why chemists twist molecules like this one in so many directions before settling on one version. The thioether and methoxy functions play double duty: they help fend off destructive enzymes and act as anchor points for further tweaks. I’ve watched teams swap out the thioether with other alkyl sulfides, searching for better beta-lactamase resistance. Researchers try halogenating or acylating the exocyclic amine, shifting antibacterial spectra. The methoxy group proves crucial for balancing solubility and absorption profiles in preclinical screens. Its tetrazole segment occasionally takes hits from reducing agents—those modifications allow tests for improved targeting or bioavailability. Chemists never consider these tweaks one-and-done; modification cycles keep running until activity or toxicity trade-offs become apparent. That constant push for improvement keeps this class of molecules relevant amidst shifting resistance patterns.
In the trade and among serious researchers, names tend to get trimmed fast. Call sheets in our lab often drop down to “Diphenylmethyl Ester of 7-Amino-7-Methoxy-3-Tetrazole-5-Thiomethyl-Bicyclooctene Acid” or, still shorter, “7-Methoxy-Tetrazole Diphenyl”. QC readings sometimes mark it as “Compound ZX-342M”. In pharmaceutical filings and technical write-ups, global reference names vary, but most abbreviations keep clarity and safety at the forefront so researchers don’t trip up in communication. While official chemical registries tag the full IUPAC name, working labs set up swipe cards and ERP inventory under shorter, human-readable handles to stay efficient when work gets fast-paced.
Anyone tackling synthesis or testing runs into a raft of safety hurdles. In direct handling, I rely on full nitrile gloves, face protection, and ventilated hoods; the compound’s aromatic and sulfur-containing groups rank high on the IRRITANT watchlist. Accidental skin contact means quick decontamination and documentation, since sulfur moieties cause persistent irritation. Powder inhalation can set off respiratory triggers—reason enough for fitted masks and tight procedural logs. Waste generated in workups heads straight into labeled hazardous containers, flagged for sulfur and aromatic compound segregation. GHS standards, enforced by internal audits, have tightened safe handling even further in the past few years—a move backed by regular training and drill exercises for every new research cohort. I’ve learned that trying to cut corners never pays, especially as regulatory scrutiny around novel chemical scaffolds like this only grows.
Most curiosity around this molecule’s application comes from infectious disease and pharmaceutical chemistry. It’s not lining consumer shelves; instead, it lives behind locked doors in academic preclinical studies and pharma pipeline screens. Medicinal chemists target it toward penicillin-resistant bacteria, hoping its thioether and tetrazole defenses frustrate enzyme-driven bacterial defenses longer than standard treatments. Some exploratory studies have tested its effectiveness against Pseudomonas and Enterobacter strains notorious for thriving in intensive care units. Clinical translation isn’t immediate, but supportive research on structure-activity correlation continues to carve out its niche as a reference molecule, especially for labs tackling the next leap in beta-lactam technology. I’ve watched research proposals tie its profile to both combination therapy prototypes and guide experiments on novel delivery methods like polymeric nanoparticles.
Development work pulls from both academia and commercial labs. University teams use it to map resistance pathways and build analytic profiles that benchmark new beta-lactam contenders. Pharmaceutical companies, always hunting for the next market-defining antibiotic, use the compound as a template for analog libraries. In my experience, R&D scientists focus on refining the scaffold’s reactivity and side-chain substitutions, running automated screens to uncover better absorption, distribution, and resistance patterns. Joint projects with clinical partners test efficacy in systems mimicking stubborn hospital-acquired infections. Basic science grants continue to chase derivatives with improved metabolic stability and oral bioavailability, building off structurally confirmed batches like this one as the chemical platform for innovation.
Before anyone discusses moving beyond the bench, toxicity studies take on crucial importance. I’ve seen animal models ranging from mice to guinea pigs, each group receiving escalating doses through varied administration routes. Early signals point to a moderate risk profile, with the diphenyl methyl group sometimes driving mild hepatic responses in rodent livers. Gastrointestinal distress and allergic reactions continue to be area of concern for future clinical translation. Long-term exposure studies mark subtle hematological changes, calling for more targeted metabolic pathway studies. Environmental toxicity measures reveal its stubbornness against natural degradation, underlining a hazard if large-scale operations ever take off. Current best practice involves careful sequestration and post-experiment neutralization steps in both academic and industrial settings. Researchers don’t make light of these results, and calls for stricter animal welfare oversight accompany every new round of toxicity screening.
What comes next with a molecule like this sometimes feels like a toss-up between regulatory hurdles and scientific opportunity. If resistance patterns stay ahead of available drugs, chemists and pharma companies will keep tweaking the backbone, searching for modifications that increase potency without cranking up toxicity. Demand from healthcare systems for backup antibiotics signals steady interest from grant agencies and investors—nobody wants to face another pandemic with an empty antibiotic pipeline. Ongoing collaborations between synthetic chemists, structural biologists, and clinicians hint at the next round of derivatives, all aiming for safer profiles, higher oral bioavailability, and maybe one day a marketable lead. Still, sustainable manufacture and environmental footprints will press even harder given mounting scrutiny on persistent synthetic materials. It’s a tough race, but the science and stakes push new efforts forward every year.
Chemical names like this one don’t exactly roll off the tongue. Breaking it down, you’re looking at a structure packed with rings, nitrogen, sulfur—the kind of elements keenly loved in medicinal chemistry and antibiotic development. The “hexaazabicyclo” bit tells chemists a lot about its potential as a backbone for drugs, especially beta-lactam types. The “beta-amino” and “methoxy” groups often show up in cephalosporin and carbapenem antibiotics. Seeing the “diphenyl methyl ester” at the end signals attempts to tweak how the compound gets absorbed and processed by the body.
Drug resistance pushes researchers to spin out fresh chemical ideas. Bacteria evolve quicker than anyone would like. Hospitals fill up with stories of superbugs. Classic beta-lactam antibiotics—think penicillin—lose punch as bacteria shift their tactics. Science doesn’t just copy-paste old drugs. Adding bits like tetrazole rings or methoxy groups often protects vulnerable parts of the molecule targeted by bacterial enzymes. That means drugs like this stick around longer and keep fighting harder.
Years ago, I picked up an infection on a trip abroad. My doctor rattled off names of antibiotics that no longer made a dent in many bacteria. Only newer, more complex drugs—ones designed in labs by folks obsessed with chemistry—got the job done. Molecules like the one above don’t just pop out of nowhere. It takes long days in the lab, enduring endless setbacks, all because stubborn bugs keep finding ways around yesterday’s solutions.
People expect quick fixes when sick. Few think about the chemical workhorse behind a cure. As resistance rises, especially in healthcare settings, pressure stacks up to find molecules that break the mold. A structure like this gets interest because it may avoid destruction from beta-lactamase enzymes—bacterial tools that wreck older antibiotics. Building in a methoxy or tetrazole doesn’t just make the molecule more complicated for complexity’s sake; those tweaks try to trip up bacteria at their own game.
Pharma companies and academic teams working with compounds like these usually face big hurdles. Synthesis gets tricky, trials cost millions, and many ideas die along the way. Still, learning from past failures teaches the field to build better drugs. The more options available, the better clinicians can juggle rising resistance. On top of invention, careful prescription by doctors, education for patients, and global cooperation tap the brakes on abuse of powerful new drugs.
Every fresh molecule that shows promise matters. The next time infection strikes, people rely on the quiet progress of research like this. And for those stuck in a hospital bed, there’s nothing more important than knowing those working behind the scenes aren’t giving up the fight.
Safety starts with listening. Anyone who ever read a medical label with words they barely understand knows how intimidating that can be. The jargon doesn’t capture what happens when taking a new compound that the body isn’t used to. Real risks show up in everyday life as headaches, upset stomach, dizziness, trouble sleeping, or sometimes as fatigue that doesn’t let go. While science names these side effects, people live through the discomfort.
My work in healthcare research made it clear: short studies rarely tell the whole story. Compounds that seem safe in small doses can surprise you over years. For instance, some drugs used to control blood pressure also hurt the liver or kidneys down the line. Long-term monitoring often reveals issues, like increased heart risks or hormone disruptions, that don’t show up in the first six months. This is especially true with compounds that affect multiple organ systems.
One reason for side effects lies in mixing things the wrong way. Taking one pill seems simple, but many people take several different compounds for various health reasons. Some interact in ways that even doctors may not expect. Grapefruit juice made some cholesterol medications dangerous because it changes how the body breaks them down. A friend of mine had to switch medications after such an interaction set back her recovery. Patients need more real guidance, and information must stay up to date as new data emerges.
Vulnerable groups bear the brunt of safety issues. Children, the elderly, and pregnant women respond differently to new substances. During pregnancy, even vitamins can suddenly become risky—the same applies to seemingly harmless over-the-counter options. Minor changes in metabolism for older adults can turn a standard dose into an overdose. In my time volunteering at a clinic, I lost count of seniors whose medication caused confusion or falls. Doctors and pharmacists catch some cases, but not all.
Quality controls matter. In the US, the FDA reviews data on new compounds before approving them, but approval standards can be weaker for supplements, herbal mixtures, and imported goods. Lack of strict oversight means some batches test far above or below what’s safe. In 2023, the CDC reported a spike in emergency visits related to mislabeled or contaminated supplements. Without regular, transparent inspection, risk slips through the cracks.
Doctors, patients, and manufacturers all share the job of reporting side effects. Real-life data from patients builds a fuller picture than controlled trials alone. Technology can help, tracking symptoms with apps and sharing updates faster. Decision-makers must stay alert as new evidence comes up. The best outcomes start from listening to the people using these compounds every day.
Clear labeling in everyday language—not just scientific code—helps people make informed choices. More face-to-face education at pharmacies and clinics gives patients confidence and protection. Companies can fund more post-market studies instead of relying only on early trials, uncovering risks faster. Direct reporting systems, available to everyone, catch early signs of trouble.
The real test for any compound’s safety lies outside the lab and in the world, among all the people who stand to benefit—or get hurt. Listening and learning, guided by genuine evidence and stories, make all the difference in keeping risks low and health strong.
Shoppers and workers often find themselves staring at packaging, searching for a small square of text telling them how to store the product inside. Much of the time, the guidance seems simple—keep away from children, store in a cool place, do not freeze. In practice, all of those instructions grow roots in day-to-day actions and small decisions, whether you’re at home or on the job.
Many of us have left something by the radiator, tossed a bag in the trunk, or stacked boxes near a sunny window. From food to cleaning supplies, each one of these habits invites trouble. Heat’s a silent thief. Foods spoil faster, chemical cleaners grow unstable, and medications lose their punch. Moisture creeps into cardboard, forming an invisible foothold for mold and mildew. If you’ve ever opened a sticky bottle or found fungus on the rim of a spice jar, that’s storage gone wrong. Experts have found up to 20% of wasted food at home starts with poor storage. This isn’t a fluke or a rare scenario—it’s a pattern.
Opening a tricky lid or moving a fragile box takes more than instructions on a label. A survey of workplace injuries shows a strong link between rushed handling and accident rates. A slip and splash can turn a safe product into a household hazard, not to mention the money wasted on damaged goods. My own kitchen shelf bears the stains of half-twisted bottle tops and hurried refills. The cost is more than stains—it’s lost value, wasted effort, and extra cleanup time.
Data tracks mistakes as closely as instructions. The National Institutes of Health and the CDC note sharp increases in accidental poisonings when products aren’t clearly labeled or stored out of reach. Young children make up a huge chunk of emergency room visits from household cleaners and pills left at bench level or under a leaky sink. On the business side, poor warehousing costs companies billions each year. Packaging experts recommend keeping track of temperature, moisture, and stacking height. These guides don’t just pad out manuals—each point comes from batches ruined or months of work lost.
Smart storage does not require a new closet or fancy equipment. Simple changes make a world of difference. Choose shelves that stay dry and away from heat. Learn which products demand a sealed cap or a child-proof latch. Invest in clear labeling, especially for anything with risk when swallowed or spilled. Schools and workplaces do best with visual reminders—bright tags or signs near storage areas nudge the mind into safe habits. Families can save money and headaches with small routines: check the pantry once a week, clean out old containers, keep dangerous chemicals on high shelves.
Technology helps, too. Apps now track food expiry dates and alert owners before waste sets in. Barcode scanners sort stock in warehouses and even small shops. All of these solutions grow from lessons learned the hard way: storage is real work, not just a matter of following a checklist. Thoughtful handling protects health, wallet, and peace of mind.
Ask any scientist about the difference between lab research and clinical medicine, and you’ll get a response grounded in years of hard lessons and ethical debates. I have stood behind a workbench, pipette in hand, staring at a container covered in warnings: “For laboratory research only. Not for human or animal use.” That small sentence carries a lot more weight than it seems.
Research chemicals get tested in controlled environments: glass vials, cell cultures, sometimes animals. The work does not travel near a hospital or doctor’s prescription pad. These substances might show promise in a petri dish, but there’s a long road between a promising result under a microscope and a life-saving dose for a patient.
Some of these chemicals never get considered for people at all. A few, years down the line, might earn approval after being scrutinized for toxicity, side effects, and effectiveness. Failures are far more common. The U.S. Food and Drug Administration estimates less than 12% of drugs that start clinical trials ever reach patients. Most substances remain only in notebooks and data sheets.
Every year, people push past warnings and use research chemicals for reasons outside the lab. Sometimes companies, hoping to profit from hype, market “grey market” products that skirt real regulation. In my experience, such shortcuts risk real harm. Oversight in clinical settings exists for good reason—unknown impurities, unpredictable interactions, hidden dangers all show up in substances that haven’t been tested on humans.
Clear separation between lab chemicals and clinical substances protects more than just research grants. It guards health and trust. People expect medical products to meet strict standards. When a substance labeled “for laboratory research only” ends up in a supplement, untested vape juice, or stranger products, the fallout lands in news headlines—stories about hospitalizations or worse.
One example sticks in my mind: synthetic cannabinoids, designed for research, found sold as recreational drugs before scientists finished safety studies. Users suffered seizures, kidney failure, even death. The original researchers never meant for their molecules to be smoked or swallowed.
The problem stems from the gap between supply and control. Distributors sometimes sell chemicals online with little vetting. Outside official channels, people risk ingesting something with a purity level, contaminant profile, or dosing information nobody tracked or verified.
Better labeling stands as a simple start, but the solution runs deeper. I’ve seen institutions add training that explains why ignoring intended use misleads research and puts lives at risk. Regulators also monitor websites and chemical suppliers, but enforcement struggles to keep up with the pace of new compounds.
Collaboration works best—scientists talking openly with medical doctors, law enforcement, and the public. If you discover or use chemicals, pushing for clear rules and honest data helps everyone involved. Real progress happens when curiosity and caution walk hand in hand.
Crafting a new compound in the laboratory takes more than a checklist of steps. I’ve seen colleagues spend months optimizing reaction conditions, only to watch side-products eat away at their yields. The right path depends on the desired outcome—some compounds shine in purity, some in yield, and others in cost or simplicity. For most organic molecules, stepwise chemical reactions allow targeting specific structures. Techniques like Fischer esterification or Grignard addition offer solid starting points depending on which chemical groups need linking.
Consider a functional group transformation, such as turning an alcohol into an aldehyde. Swern oxidation often ranks as a top choice because it’s efficient and limits over-oxidation. It’s crucial not to overlook scale; a route perfect for one-gram batches won’t always scale for kilos. Making conscious choices about solvents, reagents, and workup steps protects both product and people. Environmental safety matters—running greener reactions that avoid heavy metals and minimize waste earns points both in lab audits and public trust.
After making a compound, verifying its identity and purity builds confidence in results. The basics never go out of style; I trust thin-layer chromatography (TLC) for quick spot checks and nuclear magnetic resonance (NMR) spectroscopy for structure confirmation. TLC offers a fast glimpse at reaction progress and residual impurities. With NMR, the exact structure reveals itself—no room for guessing when those signature peaks line up.
Mass spectrometry and infrared (IR) spectroscopy fill in the story. Mass spec gives the molecular weight, helping rule out side-products and confirming the all-important mass. IR spectroscopy reveals specific functional groups; a strong carbonyl stretch at 1700 cm-1 can clean up confusion between a ketone and an alcohol. High-performance liquid chromatography (HPLC) and gas chromatography (GC) pinpoint purity. In pharmaceutical work, HPLC stands out since it can separate complex mixtures and provide quantitative results—essential in regulated projects where accuracy isn’t just important, but checked by inspectors.
I always encourage running control reactions and calibrating equipment regularly. Relying on poorly maintained NMR probes or out-of-date standard curves in HPLC turns a promising synthesis into a guessing game. Reproducibility makes or breaks published findings. If another lab can’t trace your steps, the credibility disappears fast.
Documenting every choice, observation, and adjustment turns a routine experiment into a blueprint that others can follow. Patents and publications demand complete records, but thorough notes also speed up your own troubleshooting months later. Automation and digital lab notebooks help, but nothing beats careful, honest recording in the moment.
Modern chemistry faces pressure to clean up its act and reduce hazards. For example, swapping toxic solvents for water or using enzymes instead of harsh chemicals both cut risk and waste. Open sharing of successful and failed methods can save time and keep young scientists from repeating old mistakes. The most reliable ways forward spring from both careful trial in the lab and lessons learned from others along the way. Sticking with trusted tools, questioning every shortcut, and welcoming fresh ideas keeps science moving forward—safely and with integrity.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | Diphenylmethyl (7β-amino-7α-methoxy-3-[(1-methyl-1H-tetrazol-5-yl)sulfanylmethyl]-8-oxo-5-thia-1,6-diazabicyclo[4.2.0]oct-2-ene-2-carboxylate |
| Other names |
Cefmetazole benzyl ester Cefmetazole diphenylmethyl ester CS 1170 Sodium cefmetazole benzyl ester Sodium cefmetazole diphenylmethyl ester |
| Pronunciation | /ˈsɛvənˈbɛtə əˈmiːnoʊ ˈsɛvənˈælfə məˈθɒksi θriː wʌnˈmɛθəl wʌn eɪtʃ tɛˈtræzəʊl faɪv θaɪˈɒksiˌmɛθəl ˈeɪt ˈɒksəʊ faɪv ˈθaɪoʊ wʌn hɛkˈsæzə baɪˈsaɪkloʊ fɔr pɔɪnt tuː pɔɪnt əʊ ˈɒkt tuː iːn tuː kɑːrˈbɒksɪlɪk ˈæsɪd daɪˈfɛnɪl ˈmɛθəl ˈɛstər/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | 132536-24-4 |
| 3D model (JSmol) | `3DModel:JSmol("C26H26N8O5S2")` |
| Beilstein Reference | **4344347** |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:131719 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL3328781 |
| ChemSpider | 21905554 |
| DrugBank | DB01332 |
| ECHA InfoCard | echa.infocard.100.265.591 |
| Gmelin Reference | 87179 |
| KEGG | C14635 |
| MeSH | D000076282 |
| PubChem CID | 124374 |
| RTECS number | UY7707000 |
| UNII | D2JAX6VL6H |
| UN number | UN2811 |
| CompTox Dashboard (EPA) | DTXSID90913180 |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | C25H25N7O5S2 |
| Molar mass | 642.76 g/mol |
| Appearance | White or almost white crystalline powder |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 1.49 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | Insoluble in water |
| log P | -0.3 |
| Acidity (pKa) | 2.5 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 6.19 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | -1122.0 × 10⁻⁶ cm³/mol |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.680 |
| Dipole moment | 4.75 D |
| Thermochemistry | |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 576.8 J/mol·K |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -1617.8 kJ/mol |
| Pharmacology | |
| ATC code | J01DI55 |
| Hazards | |
| Main hazards | Causes skin irritation, causes serious eye irritation, may cause respiratory irritation |
| GHS labelling | GHS07, GHS08 |
| Pictograms | GHS05,GHS07 |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Hazard statements | H302, H315, H319, H335 |
| Precautionary statements | Precautionary statements: P261, P264, P271, P272, P273, P280, P302+P352, P304+P340, P305+P351+P338, P312, P333+P313, P337+P313, P362+P364, P403+P233, P405, P501 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 1-2-2-0 |
| LD50 (median dose) | LD50: 10550 mg/kg (rat, oral) |
| NIOSH | GB9621000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | Not Established |
| REL (Recommended) | 0.001 mg/m³ |
| Related compounds | |
| Related compounds |
Cephamycins Cefoxitin Cefotetan Cefmetazole Cefminox 7β-Amino-3-thiomethyl cephalosporins |
