ReadFin Literary Journal (Winter 2018)

Lab Rat
Martin Markus
Every new medication which is introduced to the community
needs to pass a rigorous screening process that is supervised by the
Australian Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA). This is in
order to prevent medications with unacceptable side effects being
released. The most profound example of this is when Thalidomide
was released. It is considered the Titanic’ of all pharmaceutical drugs.
Thalidomide was designed to treat morning sickness in for pregnant
women but caused unfortunate side effects. These included: babies
with missing limbs, misshaped heads, and low IQs.
The process of screening a new drug involves initially injecting it
into a small group of mice or rats. If there are no obvious side effects
like exploding mice, then the drug is tested on a much larger group
of rodents. If the drug has been safely tolerated by smaller mammals,
that are 92% genetic match to humans, it enters the next phase of
human testing.
I was that human. For 16-days I would be testing a drug treatment for
Inflammatory Bowel Disease. Although, please note, there is nothing
wrong with my bowels! The drug testing centre was looking for
healthy young participants and paying close to $4000. It was a nice
little sum of money for essentially doing nothing.
The initial screening was a standard medical check-up. And, also
involved signing a waiver which stated in red uppercase: “I ACCEPT
THAT WHEN PARTICPATING IN A CLINICAL TRIAL THAT THERE
IS A RISK OF UNFORSEEN SIDE EFFECTS BOTH IMMEDIATE AND
IN THE FUTURE.” I took a deep breath and signed my life away.
On arrival for the study, I was given a bed in a long corridor that
resembled a public hospital. The hospital was shared with 40 other
paid lab rats like myself. The only privacy away from the other lab rats
was to draw a curtain around your hospital bed. The first day involved
an assault of medical tests which included: ECG, BMI, blood tests, and
many more which I didn’t fully understand. Once the results were in,
the supervising doctor said I could proceed with the trial. I was going
to be the second human who would be tested with the drug. The first,
would be the backpacker who was sleeping beside my bed.
The following day numerous staff members launched into action.
I was given a whirlwind of blood tests before it was finally time to
ingest the drug. I was asked to sit up in my bed. I was then given a
little glass bottle. Two staff members formally confirmed who I was
and the drug I was about to take. This process was repeated again by
two different staff members. Then the moment came.
I was surrounded by 4 nurses, 3 medical assistants, 2 junior doctors,
1 consultant doctor, and 1 representative from the pharmaceutical
company in his suit and tie. This single moment had the power
change the course of my life. All eleven staff members had their
eyes fixed on me. They appeared to hold their breath, in a mixture of
anticipation and dread, as I lifted the small glass bottle to my lips.
I emptied the magic potion into my mouth and then nothing. All
at once the staff gave a heavy sigh of relief. One Doctor incessantly
repeated: “Look Martin, it’s very important that if feel unwell at any
point, you need to notify staff immediately.” I lay back in the bed and
waited for my Zombie transformation to commence. But nothing
happened. Minutes passed, hours passed and still nothing. The days
flew by and before I knew it, I was discharged and $4000 richer. I
don’t know what the future holds, but I hope I don’t end up with
missing limbs as a result of being a lab rat.
ReadFin Literary Journal 57