January/February 2001 NETWORKER
Reprinted with kind permission of the author
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BOBBY SITS IN A leather chair, his feet propped on a footstool, his eyes on the screen, of a computer monitor. He is playing a game called Space Race and at the moment, his spaceship is leading the pack. Seated across the room, I monitor his progress on my own computer.

NEUROFEEDBACK
OPENS NEW
FRONTIERS IN
SELF-HEALING

It may sound as though we are testing the next iteration of PlayStation, but Bobby's got no joystick to maneuver and no but- tons to press. He is driving the ship with his brain. Wires run from dime-sized gold sensors on his scalp to a cigar-box-sized device known as a brain- wave amplifier. The amplifier converts the electric currents generated by Bobby's brain into an oscil- lating pattern that I can monitor on my screen. Bobby's computer has been programmed to reward him for producing fast-frequency “beta” waves. When he does so, his spaceship zooms ahead. But when he produces slower frequency “theta” waves, his ship slows down.

Though it has taken him several sessions, Bobby Delvecchio is beginning to be able to produce beta waves at will. Through trial and error he has discovered that if he imagines himself zoomi ing through space at warp speed, his ship pulls away from its pursuers. When he allows himself to be distracted by self-critical thoughts, the ship falls behind. When I met Bobby a month earlier, he was suffering from depression. Tired, bored, and spacey, he hid his face beneath the brim of his baseball cap. The veteran of many failed therapies, he had come to my office only because his mother had forced him to. But today, as he watches his craft cruising through the galaxy, pride and excitement light up his face.

When the session is over he allows, grudgingly, that he feels, “a little better.” Bobby, who is 12, is undergoing neurofeedback training—a therapy based on the concept that the brain can be taught to adjust its operating speed. Though this technique is little known, and underused, it may be the most powerful tool we have to help patients control neurological imbalances that compound the difficulties of daily life. In recent years, some clinicians have concluded that it is the best treatment available for chronic pain and migraines. It is extremely effective against depression, anxiety, attention deficit and sleep problems.

Neurofeedback can also be helpful in treating stroke victims, head injuries, autism and addictions. Each of these neurological conditions is caused by aberrant brain function. Neurofeedback training teaches the brain to restore its own equilibrium. Through a system of bestowing and withholding rewards, the training can teach a manic brain to slow itself down, and an underaroused brain to speed itself up. As a result, these patients can think more clearly, feel calmer and happier and cope better with stressful situations. In individuals who have undegone sufficient training, the brain incorporates these responses, which become automatic.

I had first heard about neurofeedback training in the early 1990s from a friend who was affiliated with the Menninger Foundation in Topeka, Kansas. He had used this therapy on a number of clients whom he had been seeing for years. He was so pleased with the results that his enthusiasm was contagious. So, I registered for a week of intensive clinical training through EEG Spectrum International in Encino, California.

Upon returning from training, I jumped right in and was surprised by the promising results neurofeedback was producing. It stopped a client’s migraine headache in 15 minutes. Another client, whose anxiety prevented her from driving over bridges on her way to work, was able to navigate bridges without fear after two sessions. A client with clinical depression reported newfound energy and motivation.

And dozens of AD/HD kids were doing better a home and school. And what particularly struck me about the neurofeedback training was that clients who were certain that it wouldn't work for them still got better The memory of those patients who improved almost in spite of themselves buoyed me up while I worked with Bobby Delvecchio.

Bobby and his brothers. Timmy, 8 and Jake, 10, had stormed into my office one day with their mother Ann for an initial consultation. They arrived with all the intensity of a hurricane seeking land, leaving toys and magazines strewn all over my waiting room. “My boys have a lot of energy,” Ann Delvecchio explained, as she herded her boys into my room. She was a wide-eyed woman with chaotic black curls, whose words poured out in a rush. While attempting to get her sons seated, she launched into an extensive history that sounded as though it had been repeated a thousand times. As she spoke, Mrs. Delvecchio yanked Bobby’s feet off the couch, stopped Timmy from repeatedly opening and closing my blinds and generally tried to restore order. I marveled at her endurance.

TIMMY, SHE REPORTED, WAS EXTREMELY hyperactive, impulsive and very anxious. He was a chronic bed-wetter, complained of numerous aches and pain and took the blue ribbon in whining. He took Ritalin, but regardless of the dosage, still couldn’t concentrate well enough to do his schoolwork. He was forever getting out of his seat, and talking.

Jake presented an even greater challenge. He was extremely smart and remarkably streetwise, but it was as if he had no brake fluid in his brain; he could n’t control his impulses. He also had a high threshold for pain, which made it difficult to comprehend that he inflicted pain on others. More worrisome were his intermittent rages, during which, he said, it felt as though his head was about to explode. Not surprisingly, Jake couldn’t stay out of fights. After suspending him several times, school officials had placed him in a special education pro- gram for severely emotionally handicapped children. Eventually, he was expelled from that program, too—something I hadn't thought possible. Now he was being tutored at home. He was on Clonidine to control his rages.

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January/February 2001 NETWORKER