Electroconvulsive Therapy
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In honor of May being Mental Health Awareness Month, I’m writing about my experiences with electroconvulsive therapy as a means to lessen the regularity and severity of suicidal thoughts in my mind.
I was transferred to the Emory Wesley Woods in-patient psychiatric facility this past November. On the second day of my two-week stay, I was introduced to my treatment team of three doctors and two nurses. After speaking with me and getting to better understand my depressive symptoms the head doctor asked if I would be interested in electroconvulsive therapy, or ECT. I vividly recall telling everyone in that room to go “F-” themselves.
No part of me believed that ECT would help treat my suicidal thoughts, and I was more than comfortable with staying in the hospital for a few days until the treatment team felt I was stable enough to be released. On my third day though, I had a change of heart. Not for any grand reasons, but because I was exhausted. I’ve battled suicidal thinking since I was in the tenth grade, and at thirty-one, I was in the grip of suicidal fantasies once again. What I really wanted was to be unconscious, and ECT is done with anesthesia. I figured, if it works — great. If not, then at least I get to spend some quality time with my mind turned off.
On the fourth day, I met with my treatment team again and agreed to go ahead with ECT. While they handled the logistics, I was shown a video that detailed the basics of the procedure. The film was at pains to stress that this was not what was shown in the movie, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”. I would not be conscious for the electroshock, but my body would experience a seizure for approximately one minute. I’d wake up about half an hour later, and be able to resume normal function.
A significant possible side effect of ECT is memory loss. I wasn’t at risk to forget my family or how to tie my shoes, but recent memories might get a bit foggy or disappear all-together. To track this, I went through a battery of memory tests that established a baseline for recent memories and more long-term ones. By the seventh day, it was time for my first treatment. I was warned that I probably would not feel any major changes in my mood or thinking, but that if I stuck with all the procedures; I would feel a difference after treatment six or seven.
Really, I was just excited for the anesthesia, but the possibility of not having so many suicidal thoughts was appealing.
There’s no difference between treatment #1 and treatment #12, so here’s what goes down:
I put on a diaper - hey, no laughing, I’m about to have a full-body seizure. Stuff could happen.
My memory is tested against my baseline.
A nurse inserts and IV into my arm, and I take some time to read while awaiting my turn in the ECT room.
I’m wheeled into the room with another nurse, the doctor, and an anesthesiologist.
While we talk, a nurse sets the shocking equipment to my temple, and the anesthesia is readied to get pumped into me.
“Ready for the meds?” I’m asked, and with a quick nod, I feel a cool sensation go through my body and then I’m quickly unconscious.
Once I’m out, someone presses a button and electricity flows through my brain until I have a seizure. The seizure is monitored with the array of sensors strapped onto my head, and, once the doctor is satisfied, I’m wheeled out of the room.
I wake up the same way you fall asleep — slowly, and then all at once.
A little groggy and unsure of my body, a kind nurse greets me and gives me some orange juice.
I take the diaper off, put on my shoes, and walk out.
All together, I had ten treatments of ECT. I started to feel lighter after the sixth, and before the eighth treatment my doctor asked how I was doing — “I’m astonished at how good I feel,” I replied.
It was true because I wasn’t thinking about suicide, which was odd for me because I had accepted the fact that suicidal thinking was going to be a part of my daily existence several years before. Suddenly, I wasn’t spending time out of my day to battle random suicidal thoughts. They simply weren’t there. I had become a convert for this treatment due to my experiences, but it is important to remember that not everyone will experience the same results.
I’m fortunate to be in the 80% of people who find this treatment effective, and I feel for the 20% who go through all twelve treatments without success. What bothers me most though, is that I did not know that ECT, transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS), or ketamine were all possible treatments for my severe suicidal thinking until I was thirty one.
I thought medication and therapy were the only effective means at battling my illnesses, and I hope that this post encourages those that are suffering, and those caring for loved ones, to research these different treatments. You may find the same level of success that I did.
