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		NIH cuts spotlight a hidden crisis facing patients with experimental 
		brain implants
		[July 28, 2025] 
		By LAURA UNGAR 
		Carol Seeger finally escaped her debilitating depression with an 
		experimental treatment that placed electrodes in her brain and a 
		pacemaker-like device in her chest. But when its batteries stopped 
		working, insurance wouldn’t pay to fix the problem and she sank back 
		into a dangerous darkness.
 She worried for her life, asking herself: “Why am I putting myself 
		through this?”
 
 Seeger’s predicament highlights a growing problem for hundreds of people 
		with experimental neural implants, including those for depression, 
		quadriplegia and other conditions. Although these patients take big 
		risks to advance science, there's no guarantee that their devices will 
		be maintained — particularly after they finish participating in clinical 
		trials — and no mechanism requiring companies or insurers to do so.
 
 A research project led by Gabriel Lázaro-Muñoz, a Harvard University 
		scientist, aimed to change that by creating partnerships between players 
		in the burgeoning implant field to overcome barriers to device access 
		and follow-up care.
 
 But the cancellation of hundreds of National Institutes of Health grants 
		by the Trump administration this year left the project in limbo, dimming 
		hope for Seeger and others like her who wonder what will happen to their 
		health and progress.
 
		 
		An ethical quagmire
 Unlike medications, implanted devices often require parts, maintenance, 
		batteries and surgeries when changes are needed. Insurance typically 
		covers such expenses for federally approved devices considered medically 
		necessary, but not experimental ones.
 
 A procedure to replace a battery alone can cost more than $15,000 
		without insurance, Lázaro-Muñoz said.
 
 While companies stand to profit from research, “there’s really nothing 
		that helps ensure that device manufacturers have to provide any of these 
		parts or cover any kind of maintenance,” said Lázaro-Muñoz.
 
 Some companies also move on to newer versions of devices or abandon the 
		research altogether, which can leave patients in an uncertain place.
 
 Medtronic, the company that made the deep brain stimulation, or DBS, 
		technology Seeger used, said in a statement that every study is 
		different and that the company puts patient safety first when 
		considering care after studies end.
 
 People consider various possibilities when they join a clinical trial.
 
 The Food and Drug Administration requires the informed consent process 
		to include a description of “reasonably foreseeable risks and 
		discomforts to the participant,” a spokesperson said. However, the FDA 
		doesn’t require trial plans to include procedures for long-term device 
		follow-up and maintenance, although the spokesperson stated that the 
		agency has requested those in the past.
 
		
		 
		While some informed consent forms say devices will be removed at a 
		study’s end, Lázaro-Muñoz said removal is ethically problematic when a 
		device is helping a patient. Plus, he said, some trial participants told 
		him and his colleagues that they didn’t remember everything discussed 
		during the consent process, partly because they were so focused on 
		getting better.
 Brandy Ellis, a 49-year-old in Boynton Beach, Florida, said she was 
		desperate for healing when she joined a trial testing the same treatment 
		Seeger got, which delivers an electrical current into the brain to treat 
		severe depression. She was willing to sign whatever forms were necessary 
		to get help after nothing else had worked.
 
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            Carol Seegar, who has a deep brain stimulator, powered by an Abbott 
			Brio IPG, implanted in her body, poses for a photo on Thursday, July 
			24, 2025, in Atlanta. (AP Photo/Mike Stewart) 
            
			
			
			 “I was facing death,” she said. “So 
			it was most definitely consent at the barrel of a gun, which is true 
			for a lot of people who are in a terminal condition.”
 Patients risk losing a treatment of last resort
 
 Ellis and Seeger, 64, both turned to DBS as a last resort after 
			trying many approved medications and treatments.
 
 “I got in the trial fully expecting it not to work because nothing 
			else had. So I was kind of surprised when it did,” said Ellis, whose 
			device was implanted in 2011 at Emory University in Atlanta. “I am 
			celebrating every single milestone because I’m like: This is all 
			bonus life for me.”
 
 She’s now on her third battery. She needed surgery to replace two 
			single-use ones, and the one she has now is rechargeable. She’s 
			lucky her insurance has covered the procedures, she said, but she 
			worries it may not in the future.
 
 “I can’t count on any coverage because there’s nothing that says 
			even though I’ve had this and it works, that it has to be covered 
			under my commercial or any other insurance,” said Ellis, who 
			advocates for other former trial participants.
 
 Even if companies still make replacement parts for older devices, 
			she added, “availability and accessibility are entirely different 
			things,” given most people can’t afford continued care without 
			insurance coverage.
 
 Seeger, whose device was implanted in 2012 at Emory, said she went 
			without a working device for around four months when the insurance 
			coverage her wife’s job at Emory provided wouldn’t pay for battery 
			replacement surgery. Neither would Medicare, which generally only 
			covers DBS for FDA-approved uses.
 
			
			 With her research team at Emory advocating for her, Seeger 
			ultimately got financial help from the hospital's indigent care 
			program and paid a few thousand dollars out of pocket.
 She now has a rechargeable battery, and the device has been working 
			well. But at any point, she said, that could change.
 
 Federal cuts stall solutions
 
 Lázaro-Muñoz hoped his work would protect people like Seeger and 
			Ellis.
 
 “We should do whatever we can as a society to be able to help them 
			maintain their health,” he said.
 
 Lázaro-Muñoz's project received about $987,800 from the National 
			Institute of Mental Health in the 2023 and 2024 fiscal years and was 
			already underway when he was notified of the NIH funding cut in May. 
			He declined to answer questions about it.
 
 Ellis said any delay in addressing the thorny issues around 
			experimental brain devices hurts patients.
 
 Planning at the beginning of a clinical trial about how to continue 
			treatment and maintain devices, she said, would be much better than 
			depending on the kindness of researchers and the whims of insurers.
 
 “If this turns off, I get sick again. Like, I’m not cured,” she 
			said. “This is a treatment that absolutely works, but only as long 
			as I’ve got a working device.”
 
			
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