Site Presented By
Thursday, Nov 26, 2009
The science behind Provigil remains cloudy. "We're not sure exactly where it's working in the brain, but it would seem to work in the histamine system, so it's very effective for keeping you awake," says Dr. Joyce Walsleben, director of the New York University Sleep Disorder Center. Unlike amphetamines, which take more of a wandering tour of the brain, including the motor areas (which is why people get all twitchy and have irregular heartbeats), modafinil's effect is subtle; many people report barely noticing it's there. That's huge, poising Provigil to be a Viagra-like blockbuster: a medicine that has an intended use for a real medical condition but that also sounds pretty good to the drug leisure class. And unlike Viagra, Provigil has resulted in no deaths, and few users report major side effects.
"Should people just use it because they'll feel better and stay awake?" ponders Walsleben. "That's a question for society to answer. Is Provigil better than drinking six cups of coffee and getting an ulcer? Is it better to fall asleep and drive into a tree?"
And is it better to take a pill than have your boss wonder every day why you're so tired and why you haven't edited the story that's been sitting on your desk for a month? Exactly. So I called my cousin, Dr. Brad Manin, a Philadelphia internist and the resident doc in the family, to see if he could hook me up with vitamin P. "Are you nuts?" he said, even more appalled than usual at my continual (fruitless) attempts to pry narcotics from his stingy hand. "That shit messes with your brain. Look at all the people who are sorry they took Vioxx. It will be years before we know what Provigil's real side effects are."
I don't have that kind of time. My own doctor, a much more reasonable man, understood my predicament and gave me a prescription for the standard dose of 200 mg. When my healthcare provider refused to approve it, I forked over $261.56 for 30 white pills the size of a large vitamin. "You really going to pay out of pocket for that?" asked an incredulous employee at my local Duane Reade drugstore. "I've paid a lot more for a lot less," I said. He seemed to understand. Off we go.
You can take Provigil morning or afternoon -- one of its greatest qualities is that it doesn't interfere with your ability to fall asleep at night -- and with or without food. It has a half-life -- the amount of time before half of the drug's peak plasma level is eliminated by the body -- of around 15 hours, so it's typically only taken once a day. My plan: Swallow the drug in the early afternoon, swapping better living through chemistry for my usual caffeine fix. I figured I'd give it a five-day trial but was prepared to love this drug for a lifetime.
I ingest my first pill on a Monday around 2 p.m. Within a half hour, I am, as advertised, totally alert. I am also happily hyper and I talk. A lot. When a chemical gets into your brain, boy, do you know it. This initial Provigil rush feels like the goody-two-shoes cousin of MDMA, a creamy icing of energy squashing my blahs away. OK, maybe knowing I was taking a wake-up pill automatically made me feel better, but I swear -- the rush was real. Luckily, rather than want to, say, stroke my co-workers' hair, I feel the need to share the smallest details of a story I'm editing on the new Mustang to anyone who has the misfortune of coming by my office. I've never been this excited about a muscle car.
An hour later, my eyes feel like they are popping out of my head. My hands want to move fast -- I'm pounding on my keyboard like I've just walked in on it sleeping with my girlfriend. I'm edgy and awake, but at the same time I feel sort of frozen, as if I were a big bee buzzing in a tiny, tense hive. I've never made the acquaintance of the drug ketamine, but I can't help but wonder: Is this what a K-hole feels like? And here comes downside No. 1: Like Ecstasy, Provigil causes me to clench my jaw and grind my teeth. Yuck.
Jaw aside, 24 hours into the five-day test drive, I'm feeling pretty good. At least I'm awake.
But I can't get my head around what this drug is doing to me. It's not exactly like ephedra (better for a physical, not mental, boost), and it's much more powerful than NoDoz and its "Let's stay up all night and write a comparative-lit paper" kin, Dexedrine. It's not like coffee -- a potion I've drunk so much of that I have started to hate everyone associated with it, with the possible exception of the nice lady at the bodega who's the only one open at 5 a.m. when I can't sleep. Like many other stimulants Provigil gives you an initial rush, but once you're up, you stay up and never come crashing down. Which is probably why people love it.
By the third day of feeling awake and full of plans to accomplish big things, the pile of unfinished work on my desk suggests that in reality I'm not getting much done. I'm more skittish than focused. All revved up with no place to go, I make this scary observation: Provigil reminds me of cocaine. Checking the Physicians' Desk Reference, I learn that when Provigil was given to monkeys who were already trained to self-administer coke, they happily inhaled Provigil, not realizing the difference, a behavior that is called "reinforcing." I can see how this could get addictive.
