HAM LAKE, Minnesota (LifeSiteNews) — There is a medical procedure taking place in nearly every hospital in this country and around the world. This procedure is called Electric Convulsive Therapy, or ECT for short. It is supposed to be a last resort as a treatment for depression when medication doesn’t “work.” Some people request this done on their own, but it is forced on other people against their will.
My name is Judy, and the latter is just what happened to me in January through February of 1998. That was over 26 years ago. I do not remember details as to what led up to my shock treatments because I do not consciously “remember” any of my life as it was lived.
What I do know is that a woman from my church, living in a nearby city, called my mom and told her, “If Judy has this ECT done, she will feel better.” According to this lady, her sister had this done and it “helped” her.
The woman set up an appointment with a psychiatrist trained in ECT, at a hospital in Minneapolis. I vaguely recall sitting in his office and his voice though I do not remember what was said. I also know that my parents, a social worker, a nurse, these two psychiatrists, and myself, were sitting a room around a long table one day, discussing if I should have this procedure or not. I also know that I argued with a woman that, if they deemed me competent and sane enough to sign papers to perform the shock treatments, then why do I need to have them? I lost my argument, and the psychiatrists won.
My parents had no say, and I was an adult aged 39. Later, I discovered that if two psychiatrists in the state of MN say that you are not able to make the decision yourself to have ECT, they can sign the papers and have it forced on a person. That is what happened to me, and this is becoming quite commonplace.
In January, I was then admitted to this Minneapolis hospital for three inpatient treatments of electric convulsive therapy.
What they do is strap you down, over the upper arms, onto a table, put a guard in your mouth so you don’t bite your tongue, and then attach these round electrodes to either side of your temples. The doctors make the decision if you should have unilateral or bilateral ECT. Bilateral is done on both sides of the brain, and unilateral is only one side. I had bilateral ECT done.
These round electrodes are each connected each to a wire that leads to a machine that zaps the electric current in through the wires and shocks the brain. I sent for my medical records years later since I wanted to know what they did to me. They read: ECT #1 – 200 volts – ECT #2 198 volts – ECT #3 – 200 volts while in the hospital, then there were 14 more outpatient ECT treatments, with 200 volts each—equalling a total of 3400 volts of electric current zapped to my brain.
Think about this: only 120 volts runs through a normal wall in home, and mothers warn, “Don’t stick your finger in a light socket.”
I lived with that woman for, I think, 3 weeks after my first 3 inpatient and after during my outpatient visits. My father drove me to many of my outpatient treatments, and my poor 17-year-old daughter had to drive me to a couple of them also. In the medical records, the doctor and nurses recorded everything, such as visitors and what the conversations were, too. What was heartbreaking for me was reading my daughter’s response to the psychiatrist after one of my zaps:
“But she’s not my mom. She’s still not my mom.”
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Another thing is that after every outpatient electric shock, they put me in a wheelchair, and I have a dim remembrance of my dad wheeling me from the ECT room into another smaller room. I was slouched over, lethargic and weak, but the nurses give out crackers and orange juice after every treatment. The treatments are given most often twice a week for the following weeks. I had only 17, but it is not uncommon for people to have as many as 40 to 60 and to return for what they call “maintenance” ECT once every other week, I think. I felt very catatonic-like after each treatment.
ECT does not cause just short-term memory problems. I remember neither my life nor my daughter. The idea that people have healthy happy relationships, as we once did, likes and dislikes is not only foreign to me but non-existent.
For over 26 years it has felt like sledgehammers are whacking me on the back of my head, neck, and shoulders. There is no relief during waking hours and, no, not even aspirin helps. I contacted two other women many years ago in Canada who had forced ECT, and they said the same thing: that the sledgehammer effect is right there during all waking hours. This causes me to bury my head in my pillow to cry and scream from the constant pain. For many victims, like myself, it effects the whole upper torso, and the normal night and day sleep/wake cycle varies greatly. One night I might lie awake, and the next day awake or sleep a good part of the afternoon. There is no rhyme or reason to this. It is only something I just have to live with. I have contacted a number of victims of ECT of people this was forced on, and what I write here is not at all uncommon with shock survivors.
I ended up living with my parents these past 20 plus years, but I never knew them again, as far as personality and interaction is with healthy relationships. It is the same with my daughter. I have not known her since she was 8 years old in 1989 and made her First Communion that summer. Ongoing nightmares are also quite common.
I am now 65 years old, and my daughter is 43. Through the years, when this first started, I used to try and hide my googly eyes, and other physical after-effects of my shock treatments, with make-up and by wearing good clothes, so that I could go to Mass every week. One day I was walking up for Holy Communion when I heard a distinct voice say to me, “I will not heal your shock treatments, but I will heal your soul.” I do not remember when this was, maybe a year or so after my shock—I don’t know. It was a Saturday evening Mass, and I came back to my folks’, lay on the bed in the back bedroom, and cried for 3 days. It wasn’t fair, or right, or Jesus’ original plan for us back in 1989.
In the weeks, months, and years that followed, I frantically searched different hospitals and doctors to find some sort of “recovery,” but there is no recovery for victims of electric shock.
Through the years, I have been able to develop a daily prayer time and recite my rosary, too. I have strived very hard to give this to Jesus and the Blessed Mother for other shock victims, in hopes they will be healed, for those who do not know Jesus, and for His one true Church. Most recently, I have also been, in my daily prayer and long walks, offering this suffering for a number of priests, including Father Jim, my current parish priest. Also, I try to give this to Him for an end to abortion, the greatest holocaust of all. There is so much to offer suffering for, I have found out, including the souls in purgatory and the conversion of family members and non-believers.
Recently too, on one of my walks and while praying, I said to the Lord, “Lord, if it would not be too much trouble, please soften the judge’s heart with the DC – 9, so that she will either dismiss the charges all together or lighten their sentences to maybe just a year or two.” I hope my prayers helped.
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I belong to a very loving parish here in Ham Lake, MN, and as one woman on staff put it not many years ago, “Judy, you’re accepted here.” Often, I will fight going to Mass every Sunday, but there is one family who just won’t take no for an answer, and they get me to obligatory Mass every week!
At some point back in 2002, I joined a prayer group at another parish. They gave me false hope and prayed over me telling me Jesus would heal me. I wasted too much time going to their group every Tuesday night. I recall, however, saying to myself long ago one day, “Well, Judy, you got your choice. You can either suffer here or suffer at Mass.” I wasn’t going to church for many weeks or months. I don’t remember.
I am grateful for certain families who have truly “walked” with me in this. They don’t give up on me and keep extending Jesus’ love to me as do many people at church, including this priest, Fr. Jim, who is exceptional.
Another factor I want mention is that 10 years ago I went to a neurologist and took a 3 ½ hour MMPI test. When the test results came back 3 weeks later the neurologist showed my mother and me that a normal person’s brain waves go gently across a page graph, whereas my brain waves spike up and down dramatically like a lightning bolt across the pages.
With forced ECT, there is no recovery, and the victims I have either contacted or observed on video are never themselves again, just like me. Electric convulsive therapy is, in my opinion, one of the most life-long means of torture the medical profession can do to a person. I would also like to note that a psychiatrist trained to do ECT is paid 3 times more than a regular psychiatrist who simply prescribes medication to people. There is money to be made in this profession.
There is also a black hole on the left side of my gums where the guard hurt my mouth and my bottom teeth, and I can even feel permanent dents in my upper arms from the straps on the table. I asked a former nurse who used to belong to my parish about ECT, and when I asked her why there are permanent dents in my upper arms, she answered, “That’s where they strapped you down on the table.” She used to minister to shock victims in the 1970’s.
This is my experience with forced electric convulsive therapy, and it is my opinion that this procedure should be banned around the world, for good. Thank you for allowing me to share my story.
I have been praying for Life Site News in thanksgiving for this ministry and will continue to do so. God bless you.
Sincerely,
Judy Hentges