“One seventh,” I said. “Each member contributes.”
“Moon was always my concern,” Dani said. “Technically, our propanolol is not a competitor with Moon’s anti-anxiety medication. They are two completely different formulas, working on different parts of the brain for different yet similar outcomes.”
It had been a while since I’d been in the throes of the pharmacological world. “With Sinclair’s formula,” I said, trying to remember, “the patient loses the traumatic memories that instigate their fear or anxiety.”
“Exactly,” Damien said. “The traumatic memories are gone?—”
“They arecamouflaged,” Dani said. “Think of memories as files, such as in a computer. The tricky thing is that one memory, be it body or brain, can spark another. It’s not as simple as deleting the file. The propanolol is truly groundbreaking in the way it hides the trauma. Those memories are still there, but theformula redirects the brain. It’s as if the files are renamed with different pathways.”
Damien smiled. “Yeah, that’s why you have doctor in front of your name.”
“PhD,” Dani corrected. She looked at me. “Do you want to know more?”
“Yes,” I said, genuinely interested while admitting that this was above my general understanding. “If you can keep it simple.”
Wiping her lips with her napkin, Dani readjusted in her chair. “Moon Medical’s anti-anxiety formula is a benzodiazepine, a class of depressant drugs commonly prescribed for anxiety disorders, insomnia, and seizures. The benzodiazepines enhance or increase the action of a brain chemical, GABA, by stimulating serotonin and dopamine receptors.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, that’s not simple.”
“Their medication basically ups the body’s feel-good hormones. Serotonin acts like a hormone. It is also a neurotransmitter, meaning it carries messages between nerves in the brain. Think of it like taking a pill instead of having an orgasm. Yes, you can produce the hormones from physical stimulation. The pill takes out the middleman.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw my husband’s smirk. “Nice to know,” I said, turning to Damien. “Seems you can be easily replaced.”
Dani lifted her hand. “Stop. Please. Once I’m getting my share of orgasms, we can revisit this conversation.”
“Okay,” I replied. “Moon’s medication mimics the body’s feel-good response to calm a person.”
Dani nodded.
“Sinclair’s formula eliminates the memory, so anxiety isn’t triggered.”
“Camouflages it,” Dani said. “The memory is still present but hidden.” She pressed her lips together. “The propanolol interrupts the sequence of memories, causing a favorable pairing as opposed to a negative one. It’s quite remarkable because not everyone has the same trigger. When we were conducting trials, we had military veterans who had different triggers. I remember one man who couldn’t watch fireworks. During battle, fireworks are sent up before an offensive. The different colors tell the troops what’s going to happen. We had another volunteer who suffered serious injuries in a car accident. Simply getting into a car was torture.”
“The formula worked on both of them?” I asked.
“It did. Dosages varied, but that’s part of the delivery. We need physicians and psychiatrists to feel comfortable prescribing the propanolol. It’s new, and there is always hesitation with what’s new. That’s why we’re still conducting testing. The more data we have, the better.”
I nodded. “Moon’s product has been around longer.”
Damien spoke, “Yes. The physicians, psychiatrists, and facilities are more comfortable with prescribing it. The problem is that their medications flood the system with” —he looked at his sister— “the feel-good hormone. Eventually, it takes more and more to feel good.”
“More orgasms,” I said.
“Bigger ones,” Dani contributed. “What makes your body tingle today won’t work in a year or two. Basically, the one glass of wine that used to calm you takes an entire bottle. This leads to serious side effects.”
“What about with propanolol?”
Dani sighed. “There have been a few symptoms similar to those of early-onset dementia. Basically, the medication is camouflaging too many memories. Backing off on the dosage has returned the lost memories, but often with the recurrence ofthe traumatic ones. Currently, that has occurred in less than 3.2 percent of the cases.”
“Is that low?”
“It’s higher than we want, but compared to the rate of side effects in psychiatric drugs, it is low.”
Damien began to collect our dishes. “As much as I always enjoy my sister’s pharmacological lectures, the important thing is that Sinclair and Moon are not in direct competition. The competition occurs at the prescriber level. Do the patients want a treatment plan that includes flooding the body with fake happy juice that will need to continually be increased to maintain efficacy or would the patient benefit from simply masking the trauma and rearranging the memory synapses? At this time, once a therapeutic dosage is established, there isn’t need to increase the dose.”
I sat back. “Moon isn’t the only manufacturer of psychiatric medications.”
Damien shook his head. “Hell no. Moon is relatively small in that world. That’s why Dwain agreed to join the coalition, for the bargaining power.”