Electric shock therapy
The phrase "electric shock therapy" may evoke images of patients in straitjackets and sterile mental hospitals, but for my friend it was a lifesaving treatment. In a time of unrelenting despair, the procedure was her saving grace, a last resort that she willingly underwent. She credits this controversial therapy with pulling her back from the brink of life and is eternally grateful for it. As she shared her experience with me, I could see the genuine gratitude in her eyes and hear the conviction in her voice. There was no doubt in her mind that this therapy was exactly what she needed at that precise moment in her life.
Jane is a loving mother of four children and has a supportive partner and a small, close-knit group of friends. She has lived her entire adult life with mental health issues. She has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, chronic depression, and ADHD. She was happy to share her story in the hope it would help others who may have gone through a similar experience to hers.
There are many reasons why some people struggle over the Christmas period. For Jane, Christmas created a lot of pressure and expectations to act happy, festive, and social. She felt like she had to pretend or hide her true feelings, which led to her feeling not worthy enough to celebrate. A week before Christmas, Jane sat in her small, dimly lit room at the mental health hospital, her heart heavy with despair. The clinical depression had gripped her for far too long, filling every crevice of her soul with darkness. Thoughts of ending her life consumed her every waking moment, like an incessant storm that refused to end. She looked up to see her doctor standing at the doorway.
“Can I come in and have a chat?” he said.
She nodded without uttering a sound.
“I want to talk to you about electric shock therapy.”
A small knot developed in her throat; she didn’t have the energy to turn and look at him while he spoke and continued staring out the window.
“I will tell you about it, and you can have a think and let me know. If you decide you want to do it, I will need your full consent. Electric shock therapy, or electroconvulsive therapy (ECT), is a psychiatric treatment where a small electric current is passed through the brain to induce a controlled seizure. It is used to treat serious mental health conditions, such as severe depression, bipolar disorder, and schizophrenia, especially when other treatments have not worked or are not suitable. ECT can help reduce the symptoms of these conditions and improve the quality of life for many people.”
“However, ECT also has some disadvantages and risks, such as memory loss, confusion, headaches, nausea, and possible relapse. Therefore, ECT can only be given after you give your informed consent. Do you have any questions?”
She didn’t respond.
He continued to explain.
“The procedure will be conducted under the supervision of a qualified and experienced psychiatrist and anesthesiologist. He went on to explain that before the procedure you are given anesthesia that makes you unconscious and unaware of what is happening. You are also given a muscle relaxant to prevent you from moving or feeling pain during the seizure. You will then wake up a few minutes later in the recovery area where you are monitored by the nurse. You will be required to have five sessions over a week. They will be conducted in the morning, and you won’t be able to eat breakfast on those days. You will have the remainder of the day to rest. You will have short-term memory loss but hopefully, that will only be minimal.”
He finished explaining the procedure and once again, asked, “Do you have any questions?”
Jane remained silent once again.
The mere thought was overwhelming, even paralysing. She thought of the other patients whom she had spoken with or greeted in passing, now resembling zombies as they walked through the halls during their week of treatment. It was common knowledge among the other patients that those absent from breakfast and withdrawn during the week were receiving ECT. Despite her hesitation, Jane reluctantly agreed to try it; she had no other options and desperately wanted to be home for Christmas with her children. She wanted to experience the joy and magic of the holiday season with them; she deserved that, and her children deserved that too.
The morning of the procedure arrived, and to Jane's surprise, the nurse came to her room to collect her, along with five other patients. They all shuffled down the hall in silence, one by one, willingly following the nurse to have their brains shocked with electricity. The clinical depression Jane was suffering from at the time was too heavy for her to feel fear; in fact, she didn’t feel anything. She sat in the waiting room, as if this was no different to any procedure she had undergone in the past at a public hospital. Her name was called, and she slowly made her way into the room and lay on the hospital bed. She was then wheeled into an adjoining room where she was anesthetized with an injection into her arm. She woke in the recovery room with no recollection of where she was and what had happened.
One of Jane’s friends, Sally, came to visit her every day throughout that week. On the first day, she brought in a little Christmas tree. The following day when Sally came to visit, Jane pointed to the Christmas tree, telling her how lovely it was, but she didn’t know where it came from. As Sally sat painting Jane’s nails a colourful shade of pink, she gently reminded her that she had brought it in the previous day when she visited. The following day Sally once again visited after the procedure; Jane noticed that she had beautifully painted nails but had no memory of having her nails painted. She again caringly said,
“I painted them for you yesterday.” Jane looked over and said,
“And someone has given me a beautiful little Christmas tree.” Sally burst out laughing at this point and said, Yes, Jane, I brought that in for you the other day. The conversation about the nails and Christmas tree continued for the remainder of the week.
Jane felt overwhelmingly lethargic after the week of electric shock therapy and spent most of her time in her room resting. Day by day her mood began to lift, and little by little she began to feel like a completely new person. By the end of the week, she ventured out for a walk. As she made her way through the familiar hallways, she noticed for the first time the colourful artwork adorning the walls. Each stroke seemed to whisper stories of resilience and hope, reminding her that there was beauty even in the darkest of times. She paused for a moment to admire another painting with a vibrant sunrise, its golden hues filling her heart with warmth. It was at that moment that she knew she was going to be ok. And that she had been given another chance to enjoy life's little wonders.
Jane reflected on her time in the private mental health hospital.
“It wasn’t a place where people were having psychotic episodes; it was mainly for people who experienced severe anxiety or depression. People in the midst of their own private battles, amongst kindred spirits. The patients she met were not just victims of their circumstances but brave souls fighting their own demons. Many of them, during their time in the mental health hospital, formed a strong support system, lifting each other up during the darkest moments. Together, they found solace in sharing stories with the knowledge that these people understood.”