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I remember walking into the counseling center over three decades ago at the University Of Southern Ms. I told them I was feeling "down" a lot and was certain I had depression. So were they. Hence I did. I entered therapy and went to a number of sessions. Things were getting worse, not better. I decided I may have made a wrong diagnosis, that maybe I was overracting to the regular stresses of life. I was very very wrong. I moved to a big city and got a good high paying job. That is what my other peers did to "beat the blues". Work hard, forget about one's troubles. The trouble was, it didn't work. I was back in therapy. This time with a myriad of pills, more frequent therapy, etc. Nothing was helping, but I kept being applauded for "such improvement". I told them I was not improving but getting worse, not something they seemed to want to hear. But it was the truth. I was barely able to get out of bed, and some days could not. By 1994, I had moved to the west coast to pursue screen writing as I theorized that if I could just land one box office hit, happiness would land upon me and my (by then) severe depression and anxiety would be conquered. Anyone with any sense knows the outcome of that loser's game. And I lost. After taking a number of seminars and workshops on screen writing, and even writing several full- length motion pictures, I fell yet into a deeper depression. I went back into therapy and continued on the newer SSRI drugs, which the medical community told me were "nearly foolproof". I am glad they mentioned the keyword "nearly" as they were anything but. I remained a fool, thinking I would find an answer in a pill. It had not worked in the past, why would it now? But they assured me this new Prozac and family of similar meds worked when nothing else did. Later that year, the Norhtridge Earthquake occured and wiped me out. On top of that, a week later my mother called to tell me she had cancer. She was living in my home town of Hattiesburg, MS. I went home to care for her. Though I rarely had time to read magazines, one afternoon whil etaking mom to the doctor, I picked up a New Yorker in the waiting room. There was an article about a new experimental treatment called VNS (Vagus Nerve Stimulation) for something called TRD (treatment resistent depression). It was more common than once thought. The symptoms were explained and they were identical to mine. Though it had been available on the market for TRE (treatment resistent epilepsy) it was not yet available for TRD. But a small manufacturer, Cyberonics in Houston, the manufacturer of it, was in battle with the FDA and other powers that be. I started getting more and more curious and spent a great many hours on the Internet following the studies. It came close to FDA approval several times, but the powerful AMA and pharmaceutical lobbyists continued to "find fault" in the studies and kept it off. The battle of Cybernoics vs. the pharmaceutical ane medical establishment was fierce. Cybernonics and patients had everything to gain, the medical community everything to lose (patients). Cybernonics eventually, thank God, won. Since I continued to "be punished" in my hometown (was very disenfranchised by then), I started to research. My search was focused on towns with low cost of living, high quality of life, and an advanced medical community. I was not finding any of that at home. Surprisingly Hot Springs, Ar became a top choice. The major medical community was in Little Rock, less than an hour away and UALR Medical Campus was considered one of the most advanced in the country (to my surprise). It's name was and is up there with many more familiar names like Sloan-Kettering, M.D. Anderson, and Johns Hopkins. In September of 2005, I finally heard that VNS therapy had been approved by the FDA for treatment of TRD. To my knowledge, it was the only medical modicum that had been approved for such. Now the problem was how to "get my name on the list". So I called Cyberonics and they turned me over to a nurse/caseworker, who got right on the case. She found the (very few) surgeons who performed this one hour procedure, and she had to talk my insurance into covering it based on my medical history of years of no results. On January 25, 2006, almost nine years after I first started following the news of the VNS implant, I received the procedure in Little Rock, Ar. at St. Vincent's Hospital. I remember waking up and feeling very light. Something had happened, but I was not sure what. I knew almost immediately that I'd gotten the procedure. I asked a nurse if "it was in" and she assured me it was. For the first time since I was about twelve years old, I felt no depression? I still had some anxiety but it was based on thinking "my mood is about to swing any minute and there is not a damned thing I can do about it". Minutes passed by and then hours. No mood swing. I felt like a child playing in the sandbox in kindergarten My worries and stresses were minimal. Every month, I continued to go to Little Rock for a computerized non-invasive "tune up"; the doctor merely turns up the frequency another notch. It is at a point now where it is every three months and by the end of the year, the depression will be in total remission. How is my progress? Amazing. I can remember like yesterday that I could not get out of bed, it was a huge chore to clean my home, studying was a brutal task as was work, and all that changed. I love what I do, I do it well, and do it joyfully. Today I am a cartoonist and etailer and full time student, have a wonderful girlfriend, and all kinds of doors opening that were closed, due to my having a undiagnosed disease, and at that, one that was not only socially-unnacceptable but one that a lot of people do not believe exists. I am amazed at my renewed faith in God and my fellow humans. Many do not accept me and that is fine. The one's who do accept me are the quality beings I've always wanted to be with in community. Is the depression cured? Heaven's no. But today, I can easily call it "temporary blues", the type any person could get. Many friends and associates suggested I not reveal this story, that people might use it against me. My reply is "So what? Let them use it. If one person reads this with TRD and learns about it, and is fortunate enough to receive the implant, people can use it against me all they want. Doesn't matter in the least. Let one person get well from this most dreadful disease and it's all worth telling the story. Really. Well, back to work. If you really want to, you can enjoy the rest of your life. Please do so!
Article Source: http://www.writedot.com
Rick London was told for 35 years he had garden-variety depression but the doctors were mistaken. Waiting for VNS to be approved London focused on his Londons Times Cartoons comic art gifts, and cartoon tees
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