By Linda Halperin, Ed.S.

Reprinted from ADDendum Fall 1992 issue, with permission from Paul Jaffee, Editor

(Ed. Note: Prior to the 60's wave of amphetamine abuse, stimulants were readily prescribed to control appetite. In that period, some striking results were observed, if rarely recorded. What follows is part of a hidden chapter in the history of the treatment of what we now call ADD. But the author does more than simply reminisce; she challenges two of the more sophisticated criticism of the use of stimulants (or any medications) to treat ADD. First, that a successful medication response proves little, since "anyone can concentrate better on stimulant". Second, that the very success of the Dexedrine or Ritalin, or whatever will short-circuit the process by which those given the drugs will -- on their own -- develop habits of self-organization or self-control; and that when the medication is stopped (or stops working), they'll be worse off than before, with neither the drug nor any self-developed skills. The author suggests another possible outcome.)

As an adult female who has lived with ADD for more years than I'm willing to admit, I feel compelled to share a few thoughts with ADDendum's readers. I am currently also the mother of an ADD adult, and, professionally, a school psychologist. Experience as a former ADD student, regular and special education teacher, LD consultant and parent allows me to remember and understand ADD on many levels.

My years of public school were replete with confusing messages. As a child, I seemed to be bright, yet I could not focus long enough to get above-average grades. I was able to use my verbal skills in social settings, but to my teachers, I was a "ditz," a scatterbrain who distracted others and could not sit still or concentrate. Fortunately, I had a supportive mother who believed in me despite the problems I was experiencing.

English class was difficult because I couldn't organize my thoughts to write essays; Spanish, impossible to memorize. Social Studies was a rough ride because I couldn't shift gears each time the curriculum took me from one century to the next. Geometry? Forget it. Subject matter that had relevance and material that involved global thinking was better, but I couldn't perform in the sequential format required by the school. I did, however, become an authority on hair, boys, friends and good times.

During my senior year, I believed that college was not an option -- until a dramatic event changed my life. Friends told me about a local dermatologist who could clear my skin and give me pills -- to lose weight. This was a teenager's dream! Promising (if I followed her program for a few months) a svelte body to go along with my newly gorgeous skin, she prescribed Dexedrine.

I did lose weight, temporarily. Yet, out of the blue, something else happened as well: My work habits changed. I could focus and organize my thoughts. I started to underline, make lists, and rewrite materials that had to be learned. I was able to prioritize: work that had to be completed, was completed, and on time. My grades went from C's to A's in one semester; my teachers all noted the remarkable change. I even applied to college, and was accepted!

I felt the difference and enjoyed my success -- a unique one, in fact. "Unique" is an overused word, but it genuinely applies here. I wasn't the only girl to visit the doctor, wasn't the only one prescribed Dexedrine, and wasn't the only one to lose weight. But no one else I knew would claim anything like my academic turnaround.

Yes, there were side effects. I felt "wired" and driven to keep working harder for the three months I took the medication. Sleep was difficult, and of course I had little appetite. As a result, I lost enough weight to become the size five I desired, but of course I gained it back within the next several months. In retrospect, I believe the dose was too high for my sensitive nervous system.

Although I regained the weight, all was not lost. The strategies I developed during the three months on Dexedrine were enough to change my work habits. I was bright; I could achieve. I realized it was in my power to become a good student. Yes, it took more effort when not taking medication. I had to plan more, organize better, and work much harder, yet I knew it could be done. All this changed my life, and I'm grateful to the doctor who unwittingly set the process in motion.

With each accomplishment that I achieved in my later life, my mother shook her head and smiled. On her death bed, I thanked her for her encouragement and she said, "I'm amazed, you were such a brat."

In conclusion, I'd like to make three points:

1. Girls are grossly under diagnosed. They may not be acting-out students who overtly demand attention; yet they may appear disorganized, unfocused, under motivated and chatty. Watch for the girl or woman who appears to be verbally bright, but can't "get it together" -- she may have ADD.

2. Medication may help older students on a short-term or long-term basis by increasing their ability to organize and focus. Even if used temporarily,, medication may enable the student to learn techniques which will make it easier to meet future academic demands.

3. For those who claim that stimulant drugs make everyone more focused and organized, I submit the following. Some indeed may become more focused, but not all will require this central nervous system change to become effective learners. I believe only the ADD person will be affected positively. The more "normal" learner could become overfocused and overorganized, while the ADD learned might feel normal -- for the first time ever.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Linda Halperin, Ed.S. is a school psychologist and learning disabilities consultant. She also performs psychological assessments for Suburban Learning Center, South Orange, New Jersey. She presents workshops and lectures on ADD for parents and teachers, and has written articles for Challenge, Communique, and CHADDer Box. Linda serves as Secretary on the National A.D.D.A. board of directors.