Over the last week, I became increasingly tense about my impending treatment. Thanksgiving was an odd combination of family, anger, tears, and turkey. Did I mention I had to stop taking medications for the study? :) But, finally, the day has arrived.
I was on time for my 9am appointment at MUSC. As I am receiving rTMS as part of a study, I had to undergo more preliminary tests to build their research data. This included yet another drug screen (aced it), depression screening (which indicated that I’ve become even more depressed since my last screening two weeks ago), and a new test that was slightly evil. It tested my response times and cognitive ability. A few example questions:
Look at the following words and tell me the color of their print (try it, trickier than it looks):
Red
Green
Blue
Green
Red
Blue
Blue
Red
Repeat back these letters and numbers, saying the numbers first in numerical order and then the letters in alphabetical order (I didn’t get to see these on paper, they were just given orally):
DK4L8T (ANSWER: 48DKLT)
J97M2QX (ANSWER: 279JMQX)
Between tests, I had to wait in the lobby. There was an older man there waiting for his wife, who was undergoing a different treatment for a different condition. When I explained that I was there for magnetic therapy, he told me he knew someone who had had it done. I asked if it was successful, and he told me this story:
“This man was in his sixties, and had struggled with depression for most of his life. He had tried several medications and had even undergone a few rounds of electroshock therapy. Nothing worked. His mother, who was in her eighties, said her one wish was for her son to know happiness before she died. Because of magnetic therapy, her wish came true.”
Hope. That’s what it’s all about. Thank you, kind stranger. And thank you to all those who did trials before me that enabled me to be on this path now.
Finally, it was time for the treatment to begin. At least I could definitely say I was starting at a very low point, so any change should be noticeable. The screenings and tests had left me at my lowest.
First, the doctor had to determine placement of the device on my head by testing for a reflex response. When the device hit the right spot (on the front left side of my head), it caused an involuntary twitch in my right hand. This meant we hit jackpot. While looking for it, he apparently hit the wrong spot too, which caused my left hand to twitch so hard I could have knocked myself out with it. The body is creepy amazing.
I had to wear ear plugs for the procedure, though it wasn’t exceptionally loud. I would describe it as being about as loud as a washing machine is when it’s spinning off-balance. I couldn’t have any earrings or facial jewelry on. Otherwise, there was no prep required on my part.
I sat in a chair similar to those in dentists’ offices, leaned back to a reclining position. The device had two arms that came down from either side to form a teepee on my head (specific to the Cervel device, not all rTMS machines). They were padded and not uncomfortable.
Once the process begins, the device cycles between approximately five seconds of tapping and thirty seconds of inactivity, alternating between the two for thirty-seven minutes total. The tapping had two contact points on my head, with the stronger one at the spot on the left front of my head that caused my hand to twitch, and the second near the top center of my head, slightly to the back and right (again, specific to Cervel). They had warned me that the tapping may cause a headache, but I had no troubles. The pressure from the device was comparable to what I would experience from tapping on my head with my own finger, only much faster.
The doctor tried to make small talk with me as I went through the procedure, which was frustrating since I had in earplugs, had a mildly noisy device tapping on my head, and couldn’t move my head to try to at least read his lips or see his gestures. Still, the time went by reasonably quickly. He pushed the device arms aside, validated my parking, and sent me on my merry way. And “merry” it was…
I don’t know yet if it was the excitement of having finally started the procedure, at being done with the evil questions for the day, or if the procedure was already working. I just know that I felt giddy. Not just happy, I was actually on the verge of giggling. I’m not a giggling kind of girl, so this was exciting. The feeling lasted for an hour or so, and gradually faded, though I didn’t get as down as I had been before the procedure. It’s fairly typical for me to feel worse in the morning than the afternoon, though, so this left me with my usual afternoon feeling of not bad but not good.
rTMS works by activating neurons that aren’t firing. During the procedure, it gets them going, so it is actually possible that my great mood was from the neurons firing and, thus, the procedure working. Eventually, they went back to sleep until tomorrow's treatment. Ideally, the neurons will over time get used to being active and will start firing on their own, helping me to be more happy and less depressed.
I’m very excited about today’s events, but will remain skeptical until I see a more lasting effect. Stay tuned and follow the journey with me!
No comments:
Post a Comment