A SHOCKING INTERVIEW

The summer of 1970 was after my sophomore year at a small college in the Oklahoma Panhandle. At the time, journalism was my career path. Writing stories about the happenings of our small college, located in the middle of nowhere, was very challenging for a small-town girl bereft of meaningful life experiences. It would be soon that I changed majors.

Needing cash for my junior year, I answered an ad for a mental health tech at the Psychiatric Pavilion in Amarillo. Shortly after arriving for the interview, I met the administrator. She was middle-aged, tall, thin, severely dressed, and had a perpetual scowl. She looked like one of those hard-nosed nurses from the 1920s horror movies. When satisfied with our brief interview, she escorted me to the hospital's second floor, where patient rooms and other multi-purpose rooms were located.

She quickly led me into a treatment room to prepare a patient for electroshock treatment (EST). The patient was strapped to the table with large electrodes on both sides of the head. A rubber tongue depressor was inserted between the teeth, then electricity surged through their bodies and caused seizures. The patient, without the benefit of general anesthesia, was rendered unconscious.

Although I was clueless about what would happen, the administrator wordlessly and closely watched my reaction to the scene. I instinctively knew to stay calm. In my head, I looked like the character in Edvard Munch's painting, The Scream. It felt like I had been drop-kicked into the movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

I landed the job, making $1.50 an hour for 40 hours per week on the 3-11 pm shift, which allowed me to attend morning classes at the local college. And, oh boy, I learned more than I ever thought possible during those two years of employment! I changed my major to psychology because of my experience working in a mental hospital.

Most of the patients received EST three times a week for several weeks. On the eve of the shock treatment, we had engaging conversations. The following evening, they had no idea who I was, who they were, or where they were. Some of the depressed patients improved, but their short-term memories were shot. The theory was they'd forget whatever was bothering them, but it came at a long-term cost as their personalities and affect would change overnight.

Another patient was admitted because of an unnatural affinity for animals on his ranch. He appeared to be of the landed gentry sort. After 12 EST treatments, the rancher didn't know a pig from a fence post. His wife told us the cows were one thing, but when her husband started after the chickens, she realized he needed help.

One man, admitted for syphilitic dementia, was highly combative. His treatment was the standard course of EST treatments. It didn't reverse dementia, but it did leave him in a vegetative state.

A gentle young man with an IQ of around 60 had stolen his parents' car and crashed it into a tree on the family's farm. Seeing such a sweet young man transformed into an empty shell was heartbreaking. He, like everyone else, was prescribed EST.

We have a history of cruel treatment toward individuals like this young man and millions of others with developmental disabilities that were institutionalized, often shortly after birth. In the 80s, Many years ago, I was part of a team of professionals forcing state institutions across the country to adhere to rigorous standards to improve the lives of those living in institutions to discharge the patients to group homes in the community eventually.

Now called ECT (Electroconvulsive Therapy), EST was first used in Italy in the 1930s. By the mid-70s, it was rarely used but has seen a resurgence in the last 15 years. The current treatment utilizes general anesthesia and electrodes on only one side of the head. Annually, approximately 130,000 people with severe depression, bipolar disorder, or hallucinations associated with schizophrenia are experiencing success when conventional treatment fails.

Eliminating mental illness might be a pipe dream, but finding effective and long-lasting treatment is within our reach. Improved pharmaceuticals and various forms of individualized therapy have vastly improved for those with mental illness. When we deinstitutionalized hundreds of thousands of the mentally ill in the 70s and 80s, we did not create adequate community support. Many have been doomed to live out their lives on the street.

Most cities, including Marble Falls and Austin, are grappling with homelessness caused by mental illness, drug, and alcohol addiction, along with some who lost their jobs and homes or are the working poor caused by the increase in housing costs. Addressing these issues is complicated and costly, and there are no easy answers.