Delores McQueen of Lincoln, Calif., received shock treatment in 1993 at CPC Heritage Oaks Hospital in Sacramento. Her bill: $18,000. "I wouldn't have minded so much if it had done any good," says McQueen, who still suffers from deep depression.

McQueen, who has fought depression much of her life, suffered a relapse after her sister died. She was hospitalized and even slashed her wrists in a suicide attempt. Her psychiatrist recommended shock therapy. She received more than 20 shocks.

McQueen says shock destroyed large parts of her memory:

-- She couldn't remember the names of her children.

-- She got lost driving once-familiar hometown streets.

-- She forgot how to ride horses, which she'd once trained and showed.

-- She couldn't remember family hunting and fishing trips.

-- She didn't know who her old friends were, even when they greeted her at the mall.

-- She couldn't remember information she'd just read.

"I was assured the problem was short-term, but my memory hasn't come back. I'm convinced now that it's gone for good," she says. Doctors told her that depression was responsible for the memory loss. "But I've had depression for a long time and hadn't had memory problems," McQueen says.

After leaving the hospital, McQueen kept getting shock treatment. The treatment was leaving her confused. She also doubted it was helping her depression. But she was reluctant to go against her doctor's recommendation. With her church group, she prayed for God to tell her whether to keep getting shocks. In November 1993, the hospital called to postpone a treatment. "I took that as a sign from God," she says. "When they called to reschedule, I said, `No more.' "

Gene Decker, 52

But he's had to live with the side effects.

He believes shock slowed his ability to recall things. When students come to his office, he often can't remember their names, even though he knows them well.

"Right now," he says, "I want to tell you the name of the anti-depressant drug that I took every day for 10 or 12 years but I can't remember it. It's frustrating." But the trade-off was worth it, Decker says. "I'd rather risk ECT than do nothing."

Jeanne Benston, 70

The video, sold by shock machine manufacturer MECTA Corp. of Lake Oswego, Ore., does not mention death rates or the views of critics who believe that shock causes brain damage. Instead, the video ends with a patient declaring: "It was a good experience. If I do feel myself slipping, I'd like to come back for a tune-up. It works!"

For Bengston, the reality was more complicated. She became severely depressed last fall after having knee surgery; for some reason, every hospital visit in her life - whether to give birth or have an operation - has triggered depression. "Something about being in the hospital - either the environment or a reaction to anesthesia - triggers her depression," says her husband, Dean, a retired Air Force pilot.

She received nine shocks in November 1994. Her depression lifted temporarily but quickly returned. She had 12 more shocks in March and April. The doctors wanted to give more shocks, but the Bengstons stopped because she was experiencing serious memory loss.

Jeanne Bengston isn't depressed anymore, and much of her memory has come back, but not all of it. She can't remember family trips taken two years earlier. She doesn't play bridge as well. And she has to use recipes to make food she once knew how to make by heart. Dean Bengston isn't sure whether the shock therapy or the passage of time was responsible for ending his wife's depression.

"The doctors wanted us to go on, but I'm convinced now it was right to stop when we did. It's a hard decision to make. There are so many factors, and we probably don't know them all."

Article Published by USA Today -- December 6, 1995
Copyright 1995 Gannett Co., Inc.