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ECT, or electroconvulsive therapy (formerly known as electroshock therapy) is the treatment that saved my life from about 2000 to 2005. My memory is a little incomplete on the subject. Memory loss is a side effect of the treatment. My doctors explained it would only be my short-term memory, but some of my older memories have not come back to this day. In fact, I had to drop out of my senior year in chemical engineering school because my studies were wiped clean from my brain.
I do not mean to paint a gloom and doom picture here. In fact, my experience with ECT was literally lifesaving. I went through a series of about 55 treatments over about five years. During that time, I was extremely depressed and suicidal, and even made plans each day how to end my life. I was in the depressed phase of my bipolar disorder illness. ECT jump-started my brain into functioning again.
I never thought I would be on this earth years later. In fact, I celebrated my thirtieth birthday as a milestone of life because I did not think I would make it that far. Here it is 2017, and I am about to celebrate my thirty-ninth birthday. Pretty cool accomplishment, in my opinion. It goes to show the efficacy of ECT treatment.
Electroconvulsive therapy is nowhere near as barbaric as it is portrayed in mainstream media and the movies. It is completely humane and, at least for me, a far better experience than even going to the dentist.
What an ECT Treatment Is Like
Forgive me for my scattered memories from around the time. I will try to piece them together as I explain the process of an actual ECT treatment.
I remember arriving at the hospital early in the morning. A small group of us waited to be called back. One by one, the strangers around me were escorted away.
A nice nurse called my name. She brought me back to another room that was full of waiting bays for each individual patient. Each bay had a movable bed and an oxygen port at the head.
I changed into my gown and climbed up onto the hospital bed, waiting for my turn. A nurse had me fill out some paperwork testing my memory.
When it was my turn, the nurse pushed my bed into an adjacent room. Upon entry, big band music was playing. My doctor enjoyed the music and it brought a sense of calm to my nerves.
My bed was pushed into the right position by all kinds of instruments and medical equipment.
One of the doctors started an IV in my arm. He was always extremely nice, gentle, and soft spoken.
My other doctor put some gel on my temples. During the first treatment, he began to put the electrodes on each of my temples. I explained how uneasy that made me feel, so he simply said he’d wait until I was asleep. I had this unrealistic fear that the electricity would go off while I was awake.
Next, anesthetic was injected into my IV and I drifted off to sleep. So the rest of the description of the procedure is based on what my doctors described to me.
While out, I was given a muscle relaxer. Once the doctors administered all their medications, the electricity was turned on at the electrodes attached to each of my temples. This electricity passed through my brain and caused a grand mal seizure, which the doctors monitored on an instrument reading the length and intensity. Since my body had a muscle relaxant, it did not shutter and thrash like patients did in the old days. My one pinky toe twitched. That was the extent of my body moving.
They pushed me out on the hospital bed and hooked me up to oxygen. A nurse monitored me in recovery.
After I came to, I was given the same memory paperwork as before the procedure. I am not sure how they determined when I was ready to leave the hospital, but they would walk me back up to lobby. A responsible adult had to drive me home.
When people explain how horrible ECT treatment is, I remember back to years ago when it saved my life. I may have lost some of my memory, but I am alive and breathing today. That is priceless.
