I want to be happy
A controversial new device for hard-to-treat depression is stirring up hope and debate
O, The Oprah Magazine, November 2005
ALISON MOTLUK
ABOUT
20 PERCENT OF PEOPLE with severe depression find no relief from
conventional therapies, which means that nearly four million Americans
suffer from a disabling condition that can't be eased with cognitive
therapy, medication, or even electroconvulsive (shock) treatments.
Nothing novel has come onto the scene in more than a decade, leaving
both patients and doctors feeling helpless and exhausted. But earlier
this year, the FDA provided a glimmer of hope: It approved the use of a
permanent, pacemaker-like device called a vagus nerve stimulator (VNS)
for people with treatment-resistant depression. While the VNS offers
potential help for millions, some experts are calling the FDA approval
premature. Here's what you need to know:
HOW IT WORKS
The
VNS--first approved for epilepsy in 1997--is a large disc implanted
under the skin in the upper chest (about where you put your hand when
saying the Pledge of Allegiance). Thin wires carry electrical pulses
from the device to the vagus nerve in the neck, which leads to areas of
the brain thought to play a role in mood regulation. Side effects are
relatively minor, such as a hoarse voice and throat tickle.
CON
Most
experts agree that in order for a therapy to be approved, especially
for an illness as complicated as depression, it should show a clear
benefit through research in which neither researchers nor their
subjects know who's getting the real treatment (a double-blind,
placebo-controlled trial). The only such study to date showed no
significant difference between people with a working implant and those
with a deactivated one. "I don't think we have evidence of efficacy,"
says Richard P. Malone, MD, a psychiatrist at Drexel University College
of Medicine in Philadelphia and a member of the FDA panel that reviewed
the VNS. Of the seven voting members on the panel, Malone was one of
two dissenting votes.
PRO
Some people have clearly been
helped by VNS treatment, says Sarah Lisanby, MD, a psychiatrist at
Columbia University Medical Center in New York City and chairperson of
the American Psychiatric Association's committee on electroconvulsive
therapy. Lisanby enrolled some of her patients in early VNS trials, in
which 40 percent of the participants found relief. Six years later,
some are still benefiting. She notes that the VNS is not a cure and
will probably never be a stand-alone treatment. But, she asks, "what
are the alternatives?"
WHAT THIS MEANS
It's a difficult
decision: outpatient surgery, an iffy outcome, and implanted wires that
are difficult to remove, weighed against the possibility--however
weak--of real relief. Advocacy groups, such as the National Mental
Health Association, are not taking an official position. But even the
FDA panel's chairwoman, Kyra Becker, MD, a neurologist at the
University of Washington in Seattle, says that she and other committee
members would like to see results from another trial before the VNS is
adopted for widespread use. So while you or someone you know might be
helped by the implant, approach it with caution and the knowledge that
the VNS is still an experiment in progress.