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June 23, 2017
The Excalibur award was the highest honor one could receive in his field, and if someone had told him twenty years ago that the prize would be his in time, he would have laughed and dismissed the claim. It wasn’t that he didn’t deserve the award. He did everything right: his research, the time spent studying his subjects, the new breakthrough device, and his willingness to sacrifice whatever he held important in the name of science.
“Imagine a world where pills are not needed to correct a mental condition or chemical imbalance?”
He wasn’t employing the Socratic method in his acceptance speech as a means of presenting an argument, although he wanted to use it just to fuck with them all.
“Imagine a world where mental illness is resolved with the simplicity of inserting a tiny, microscopic device? Imagine mental diseases such as addictions, phobias, psychoses, schizophrenias, and four hundred others wiped completely from our glossary? Well, we do not need to imagine anymore. The time is now! We can entirely erase these diseases like they never existed. Let me introduce the device that will make this a possibility. My fellow colleagues, mental health workers, counselors, psychiatrists, and psychologists ... do not fear extinction. I would not have invented a device that would annihilate our noble profession.” He looked up at his audience. He couldn’t believe he had made it. He had arrived at his destination.
His colleagues applauded for a few minutes, and their laughter filled the air. The uncertainty or suspense he created was exhilarating. The few who knew of the project kept their silence and preserved the project that took twenty years to reach the public. He recalled the first installation of the device and the trepidation that had doused him with fear. If he had unsuccessfully installed the device, it could have easily jeopardized or even ended his career. Now, there were no limitations. He adjusted his bow tie while waiting for the fuss to subside. He touched the mother-of-pearl cufflinks and cleared his throat to articulate the rest of his speech.
“Thank you,” he smiled and waited. The applause now engulfed the room like a wildfire. Perhaps they were expressing their gratitude for him not wiping out their profession.
“The device will make our jobs easier,” he said a bit louder, attempting to compose them. His voice was pithy as the notes were higher, and he decided to wait until quiet claimed the room again.
“The device will make our jobs easier, and our patients will be cured from the severity of their symptoms with the funneling of the built-up energy and the guidance of a trained practitioner. As I promised, our jobs are secure. However, a new era has arrived, and a new approach must be adopted.” More laughter circulated in the air, like a tangible mass that traveled to the ceiling. The exuberance was established again.
“Let me not bore you any longer than is necessary,” he continued. “This is the device!” he gestured behind him to the screen that held the future.
The film was an hour long, covering in mere generalities the scope of a twenty-year study. The subjects weren’t revealed, in conjunction with protecting their privacy and their conditions, but expert testimonials were copious. The end of the documentary sealed his success. All the members were standing again, applauding, accepting him as the one who went beyond the logical to produce a solution like no other. In his mind, he regarded his device as a revolution to preexisting treatments. He looked for a cure but not through a microscope like the rest of his research team. He used a magnifying glass. He had studied electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) for years and spent more time in the lab than he cared to count. Nevertheless, he derived the same results: ECT treatment was temporary and damaging. The retrograde and anterograde memory effects were apparent and the cognitive changes unavoidable. His device wasn’t altering anything. It was establishing mental health with the only side effect being cephalalgia (cluster headaches) twice a month when the electric current discharged directly into the neurons. It was a brilliant approach. He had no regrets to speak of for spending his time measuring the current released in the brain, revising dosages, observing his subjects, and recording his findings. Perhaps the only regret was the minor modification he had made in the diagnostic file of Doctor Kaufman’s son. The alteration had been necessary to preserve the study by including a young and healthy mind into his program.
His mind was rushing, schismatic at times, darting from one thought to the other. He was ecstatic and rapturous at the turn of events. He was thankful for the Italian professors, Cerletti and Bini, who invented the ECT and used it in the second half of the twentieth century. Their first patient, who was unresponsive to any other cure and was in a comatose state after treatment, declared, “What the fuck are you assholes trying to do?” Or was it an anecdote? It didn’t matter. They gave him the idea to search deeper, and he was confident that he would go to the top as the dream of the Nobel prize captured his thoughts.
The US Food and Drug Administration approved the device after all the compliances were met, safety and testing were completed to their satisfaction, and the enforcement of Acts was fully finalized. All the leg work was done and now, it was up to the mental health professionals to endorse it and suggest it to their patients. He knew he had won half the battle. The months ahead would indicate the extent of his success. He was almost certain the sky was the limit. Dr. Taylor had made it at last.