I'm reading Bitter Pills: Inside the Hazardous World of Legal Drugs by Stephen Fried. Fried turned to this subject because his wife, Diane, was prescribed and took one pill of a new [at that time] quinolone called Floxin. I repeat, one pill. Quinolones can get past the blood brain barrier, and it did. Diane's response included the development of bipolar disorder. Her brain was biologically primed through genetics. Others who took this drug experienced terrible side effects, as well. Those who were affected created the expression that they had been "floxed."
Fried went on to investigate just how the FDA worked (and still does) to screen drugs coming to market. He also delves into the workings of the drug industry and its relationship with the medical professionals who prescribe the drugs as well as the process by which the drug makers do an end run to potential patients and therefore users (something that has continued at much higher levels these days, especially with medications for brain disorders) using, for example, advertisements in newspapers and magazines.
I bring this up because Stephen walked the walk (lived the walk) that so many of us do who care for loved ones with an eating disorder. I know this following passage will sound familiar and perhaps it will help loved ones understand the process in which they've become entwined. More importantly, I think this passage illustrates why it's critically important for a family to work with a therapist not only to learn how to deal with the illness but also to learn how to get out of the way of their loved one's efforts to get and stay on the path to recovery as fully functioning as possible.
From page 106:
"I realized it was very easy for me to shift into "emergency mode," but terribly difficult to shift out. How did you treat a chronic illness if not by declaring a permanent emergency? I didn't know. In my family [many of his family members were struggling with illnesses or death of a family member at this time] we just left the siren running and adjusted to the noise. We're basically loud people: we never really liked the quiet much anyway....
"It seemed that Diane and I were experiencing what my friend Barry Jacobs - a clinical psychologist specializing in medical family therapy with people dealing with traumatic or chronic illnesses - has called the 'locked embrace.' He describes it as 'a rigid pattern of interaction in which the patient is stuck in an underfunctioning role as other family members overfunction in an effort to protect [her]. It allows the family as a whole to avoid difficult feelings such as anger or overwhelming sadness, but can prevent the patient from recovering to the maximum extent possible.' I understood that Barry was describing a sort of loving dysfunction, born more of fear than hope, that should be treated with psychotherapy...."
This is a shocking, not easy to read book that is well written and chock full of information. I am hoping to find a more recent book that will continue this conversation. The book includes a chapter titled "Psychopharm" because of the brain disorder his wife developed and what he learned about this aspect of pharmacology while working with folks from NAMI, for example.
As I said in my last post, I am finding myself inadvertently drawn into literature I never dreamed I'd be reading six years ago. I've always been interested in the medical field and now more so in the workings of the brain and medications. Fascinating.