People will do dumb shit for money. I should know, I’m one of them.
Turns out, it wasn’t as fun as I’d expected.
First, a disclaimer: I have to admit my intentions were not purely focused on the advancement of medical science. I was totally sucked in by the lure of cash.
A uni friend who had done clinical trials before was always banging on about how it was such easy money. So, young and desperately saving for a European summer adventure, I agreed to join my friend on a particularly well-paid trial, the concept of ‘danger money’ not even entering my distracted little mind.
As I worked through the mounds of paperwork, making my mark on disclaimer after disclaimer, I quickly lost interest in the particulars and began skipping over pertinent details – like the fact I would be required to give 44 blood samples during my two three-day stays at the clinic.
The new delivery method being trialled involved low intensity electrical currents moving the drug through the skin into the bloodstream from a device attached to the upper arm. (Looking at this description now, I possibly also skipped over the whole electrical current thing.)
Side effects not all known, but may include discoloured skin at the site the currents enter. Wonderful.
So we geared up to get our guinea pig on and underwent a barrage of screening tests to make sure we weren’t pregnant (they probably didn’t want to be responsible for a nine-limbed child) or on drugs. Unfortunately, my friend was excluded from the trial after testing positive for opiates due to an ill-timed poppy seed roll (an implausible-sounding claim she maintains until this day).