Seeds for Change Wellness
Pinning Hopes on Alternative Therapies (Autism)
Pinning Hopes on Alternative Therapies (Autism)
Author: Bob Ivry
Staff Writer: The Record, New Jersey
9/25/06
Parents desperate to rescue their children from the fog of autism -- and frustrated by mainstream
medicine's bafflement over the disorder -- are increasingly turning to alternative treatments.
Armed with Internet research and word of mouth, parents are trying unconventional therapies
based on the belief that autism is caused by the accumulation of toxins in their children's bodies.
They inject their kids with special vitamins, put them in high-pressure oxygen chambers and have
doctors give them intravenous infusions of chemical concoctions that flush poisons like mercury
out of their bodies.
Some parents are determined to try anything. There's a difference, however, between results
that are backed by research and the anecdotal evidence of success stories traded by parents,
says Paul A. Potito, executive director of The New Jersey Center for Outreach and Services for
the Autism Community.
"We look for substantial research and backing to show that something is, first, safe, and, second,
effective," Potito says. "As long as parents know the evidence is anecdotal and as long as it's not
a danger, people will try it. But the proof is in the longer-term, scientifically based research."
Liz Lynch didn't care what the research said. When a doctor injected her son Jack with a
generally harmless vitamin preparation called methylcobalamin, or methyl B-12, all that mattered
was whether or not it worked.
It worked.
"What we witnessed was a complete miracle," Lynch says.
The Colt's Neck mom began injecting 4-year-old Jack daily with methyl B-12 a year ago on the
recommendation of Dr. James Neubrander of Edison. Neubrander is what's known as a DAN
doctor, meaning he's part of a movement -- Defeat Autism Now! -- that embraces alternative
therapies.
Jack was 2 when he was diagnosed with autism. He didn't speak. But Lynch says that one week
after his first shot, Jack spoke the word "dog." A little while later, he said, "Dog bark." Soon after,
he said, "Dog bark over there."
Lynch plans to send Jack to kindergarten next year. He's sociable. He's active. Though he's still
behind other children his age when it comes to language, she has her boy back.
"We don't tell anyone his diagnosis, and no one seems to notice," Lynch says.
Neubrander says 94 percent of the children he treats with methyl B-12 show improvement. But
there is no widely accepted study that explains Jack's transformation. Researchers at the
University of California at Davis began a two-year study this summer.
Neubrander believes it works because most bodies are able to clean out toxic substances on a
cellular level, but the bodies of people with autism, for unknown reasons, cannot. In order to
detoxify, they need methyl B-12.
"It's always been stated this is an untreatable disease," Neubrander says. "Trust me, it's
untreatable until you find a treatment that works. This works."
Jack will most likely need injections -- which cost about $2.70 per dose -- for the rest of his life,
Neubrander says.
A much more expensive proposition is hyperbaric oxygen therapy. Jacki French brings her
9-year-old son, Patrick, for a $160 "dive" -- the slang term for a 90-minute stay in a pressurized,
high-oxygen environment -- five days a week, 10 months a year. She believes in it that much.
Patrick was diagnosed with autism as an infant after he contracted encephalitis, says French,
who lives in Cranford.
"Patrick couldn't hold his head up and he had no feeling in his body," she says. "He weighed 20
pounds at the age of 3½. He was like a dead child whose only sensation was pain. It was
unbearable. Our lives were hell."
French volunteered Patrick for a study of hyperbaric therapy at New York Weill Cornell Medical
Center. After 40 treatments, French says, "He was reaching for his bottle. He was able to eat. He
gained weight. Now he rides about eight miles a day on his bike, he's getting social. His progress
is unbelievable."
Two weeks ago, Patrick came to the New Jersey Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy office in Parsippany
dressed in cotton pajamas, ready for his treatment. A technician helped him onto a gurney and
slid the gurney into a glass cylinder. Inside, he watched "Blue's Clues" on a television outside the
chamber.
The pressurized oxygen of a hyperbaric chamber is a natural antibiotic and anti-inflammatory,
says Dr. Julia Bramwell, the pediatrician who runs the Parsippany office.
"One of the many theories is that autism is an autoimmune problem that causes inflammation in
the nervous system or the gut, so this is one way to decrease the inflammation," Bramwell says.
Still, she adds: "Nobody knows exactly how hyperbaric works."
A 2005 study said possible side effects to hyperbaric therapy were inner-ear damage and a rise
in blood-sugar level.
Bramwell counsels parents that hyperbaric is "entirely experimental."
But French is a believer.
"Patrick hugs and kisses the [hyperbaric] chamber," French says. "He knows it makes him feel
better."
Chelation may be the most controversial of the alternative treatments for autism. It involves
injecting chemicals that bind with harmful heavy metals such as mercury and lead and flush them
out of the body via stool or urine. Dr. Giuseppina Feingold, a Hawthorne pediatrician who has
chelated close to 100 autistic children, says the therapy's success is measured by behavior
changes.
"I would not say you'd wake up with a child who's not autistic one day," Feingold says. "I've never
seen that. The changes are gradual and incremental."
Chelation is something of a balancing act, Feingold says, because a patient's "good" minerals --
including zinc and potassium -- can be depleted along with the bad.
Ken Reeve, chairman of the psychology department at Caldwell College, teaches a course on
evaluating autism treatments. He says he's seen evidence that chelation is ineffective.
"The problem is, we're guessing at the cause [of autism] and treating that guess with potentially
hazardous chemicals," Reeve says.
Source: NorthJersey.com