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In defense of all things pharmaceutical
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(AP Photo/Nati Harnik)
In honor of the health care reform bill being debated in Congress, a defense of the almighty medicine that keeps us sane:
Oh where would the lonely letters x, y, and z be without the pharmaceutical companies? Sure, they could be combined to notify an inattentive wearer of jeans that his or her zipper is on the descent, but otherwise, the letters get the shaft in the English language.
Until along comes Xanax. Zoloft. Zyprexa. Lexapro. Lorazepam. Zyvox. Now, the lonely letters have purpose! They have found their place to belong and all is calm. A good parallel for the drugs themselves which, despite the recent backlash against modern medicinal aids (especially of the mental health variety), can be a godsend for a patient in need.
My boyfriend is a huge fan of Bill Maher, so every Friday night we watch his Real Time with Bill Maher on HBO, um... religulously. (Okay, I couldn’t help myself with the bad movie pun, but admit it. You enjoyed it just a little. There was a smirk. Maybe even a chuckle, although perhaps there was no outright guffaw so as not to attract the attention of Leering Larry in the next cubicle.) While the two of us enjoy Maher’s political analysis, whenever he goes off on a tangential rant against pharmaceutical drugs, we look at each other and sigh. In one of his New Rules segments, Maher states: “If you believe you need to take all the pills the pharmaceutical industry says you do, then you’re already on drugs.” The audience laughs and claps although, statistically speaking, more than a few of them take the prescriptions he so despises.
I know it is publicly popular to believe we are overmedicating in our society. I submit the opposite is true: we are undermedicating. My friend teaches 5th grade in a Title I school, and her most frequent complaint is the erratic or nonexistent mental health treatment for her students. “He’s great when he’s on his meds,” she’ll say, “but you can really tell when he’s not. And the whole class suffers.” Parents complain that doctors hand out Ritalin “like candy,” but perhaps their outrage stems more from the perception that their precious angel could be anything but perfection personified.
Particularly scorned are antidepressants, with the assumption that everyone will be running out and getting “happy pills,” which is somehow cheating. First, the more happy people in this world, the better, no matter how they come. (I’m looking at you, Leering Larry.) Second, with possible side effects such as weight gain, decreased sex drive, fatigue, insomnia, tremors, headaches, and nausea, antidepressants aren’t a good option for a recreational drug. The only people willing to put up with such side effects are people whose pervasive sadness has pushed them to seek prescription options.
But therein lies the problem. Maher may rant and rave about the evil pharmaceutical companies peddling their products, but if he broke his leg, I’m pretty sure he would get a cast. Physical injuries don’t carry such a stigma: diabetics should take insulin, broken bones should be set, and wounds should be treated. Yet you say you’re depressed? You should recite your daily affirmations. Anxious? You should try breathing slowly. We would never treat a patient with a gushing head wound by giving him a self-help book, but all too often that’s the only publicly-approved mental health treatment.
So give me an X! Y! Z! Yay for the scientists developing new treatments to rewire frayed brain circuitry! Yippee for the pharmacists dispensing brain band-aids! Props to the politicians who will hopefully pass a bill so we can pay for our prescriptions! Rah for the drugs which will hopefully keep Leering Larry from going postal on me one of these days...
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