A young woman who suffered a serious brain injury and was in a coma for months after she fell from her horse is treated in a gyrating chair similar to one used at the Carrick Brain Centers' Irving clinic to treat veterans for post-traumatic stress disorder. Courtesy from KXAS (NBC5)

Hope, Hype or Shaky Science? Texas taxpayers pay to spin vets in chair Experts say $2.2 million paid for shoddy PTSD research NBC5 video The gyrating chair, cocooned inside a gleaming oval capsule, looks like an astronaut’s training device. Patients spin upside down and sideways after they buckle in. White-coated healers sitting at a computer control the angle and speed. Aging Dallas Cowboys like Tony Dorsett and Randy White, their brains and bodies battered, said it made them feel better. A retired general said it improved his vision. And a Texas governor with presidential aspirations wanted to use it to treat post-traumatic stress disorder and brain injuries in war heroes. So the state of Texas said yes, sure, and poured 2 million taxpayer dollars into a study to see whether a spinning chair — described as an “Off Vertical Axis Rotational Device” — could help. Experts say there was no medical reason to think that spinning traumatized combat veterans upside down could help them — and every reason to think it wouldn’t. Most of the researchers in the study were chiropractors, not medical doctors. They didn’t work at an established research lab, but at the Carrick Brain Centers, a chiropractic clinic in Irving that opened its doors about six months before the state funding began. Veterans suffering from PTSD who participated in a state-funded research project were treated in a gyrating chair at the Carrick Brain Centers’ clinic in an Irving office building. (David Woo/Staff Photographer) But the clinic still won a no-bid contract. There were virtually no checks and balances on the study. The number of patients grew from about 50 to about 140. The original cost was $800,000 but grew to $2.2 million. The clinic claimed “remarkable results.” Scientists say the research was a waste. The study was designed so poorly that the clinic’s claim of success is suspect, experts say. And they said that joining the study may have discouraged veterans from getting the mental health care that’s known to work. “This study is essentially useless,” said Dr. Paul Appelbaum, a professor of psychiatry at Columbia University in New York. “So if the taxpayers of Texas are out $2 million, I feel badly for them.” Not for the first time, sound science is at odds with an unproven treatment. But that’s not the only controversy surrounding the clinic and the centerpiece of many of its treatments — the chair. The man who sold the clinic its first chair now says the clinic is trying to steal his design. The man the clinic is named for says the owners stole his name. Its medical director, who declined to comment, once was reprimanded by the Texas Medical Board. The board concluded that Marlon Padilla failed to document follow-up care to patients referred to him by chiropractors, “especially after he expressed concern that the patients were not obtaining adequate care from the chiropractors who were treating them.” Still, the clinic has a fiercely loyal following. Facebook posts and YouTube testimonials proclaim miraculous results. What happened at the Carrick Brain Centers is not a simple tale. It’s about chiropractors who went far beyond manipulating the spine and joints. Veterans — fed up with government red tape and failed treatments — were anxious to get relief from the symptoms they brought back from war. A governor with dreams of moving into the White House was eager to help veterans. And they, in turn, supported his campaign. And a state agency supported research into the clinic’s treatment at the governor’s urging, earmarking millions but asking few questions. Here’s how it happened.


The chair Kevin Maher’s motive was simple. He wanted to help his daughter. Mackenzie, now a college student, was born prematurely and diagnosed with severe cerebral palsy. When she was 4, “the doctor suggested spinning her around on the floor,” said Maher, an engineer in Colorado. But Maher worried he was hurting her. There had to be a better way. His answer was a chair that could spin in several directions, like a gyroscope. He called it GyroStim. Colorado engineer Kevin Maher says he designed a high-tech gyrating chair to help his young daughter, who was born prematurely with severe cerebral palsy. The chair is at the center of a patent dispute. Maher sold two chairs to Life University, a chiropractic school near Atlanta. And that’s where Canadian-born Frederick “Ted” Carrick began investigating how the chair might be used to treat brain disorders. At the time, Carrick, who earned his degree at the oldest of Canada’s two chiropractic colleges, was on Life University’s faculty. The chiropractic profession, founded by a man who claimed in 1895 that he had cured a man’s deafness by popping his spine, mostly treats pain in the back, neck and other troublesome joints. But 35 years ago, Carrick began developing his own brand of chiropractic that went beyond traditional practice. His “functional neurology” focuses on brain problems such as concussions and dizziness and has evolved into one of chiropractic’s fastest-growing specialties. He runs the Carrick Institute for Graduate Studies, which promotes his ideas, out of a 1,800-square-foot condominium near a Florida beach. In one study, he claimed that listening to French pop singer Nolwenn Leroy could help the elderly avoid falls, what was christened the “Nolwenn Effect.” Carrick also took steps to boost his academic credentials. He designed his own doctoral degree in education at Walden University, a distance-learning school. And after completing a $10,900 Harvard University course on how to conduct medical studies, he replaced his Gmail address with an eye-catching harvard.edu on research papers. Joining forces Others would trek to Life University to examine the chair and meet Carrick. One of them was Ken Beam, a Texas businessman who eventually would head the company that created the clinics bearing Carrick’s name. Beam, who operates a Coppell shipping business, said in a 2014 magazine article that he had been impressed by how a Carrick-inspired treatment helped his daughter’s learning disabilities. By 2012, Beam had teamed with a local chiropractor in hopes of creating a clinic that showcased the Carrick way, along with another businessman who has since left the company they formed. They’d met with Carrick and bought one of Maher’s chairs. But they didn’t have a clinic yet. So the new chair ended up at Beam’s shipping company, in a warehouse flanked by parking spaces for 18-wheelers near Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport. Ride it, Cowboys The location screamed industrial park. And that’s where Carrick’s new partners began offering treatment. Carrick shared his name and treatment practices, but he seldom came to the Dallas area. Gary “Cagan” Randall, a local chiropractor and one of the founding partners, often treated patients locally. Some of the first patients were Dallas Cowboys superstars. In March 2013, WFAA-TV reported that Dorsett and White received free treatments in the chair. Concussions over the years had affected their mental clarity, they said. Both said they felt better after the treatments. “I’m not as quick-tempered as I was,” Dorsett told a WFAA reporter. “And this fog that I tell you about ... that is almost completely gone.” Dorsett said he’d go back. “I’d go there every day if I could,” he said in a recent interview. When recently asked about the Cowboys’ visit to the shipping company, the clinic’s present owners balked at saying it was treatment. “During this time, testing was conducted and no patients were treated,” they wrote. But a March 2013 blog post on a Carrick Brain Centers website stated that the WFAA reporter “visited with some former Dallas Cowboys football players who were seeking treatment” and were “undergoing brain therapy.”


The military connection A retired Texas State Guard lieutenant general with high-powered connections also gave the chair a vote of confidence. Leroy Sisco, who lives in the old German community of Boerne near San Antonio, is founder of the nonprofit Military Warriors Support Foundation. It helps vets, many with PTSD or brain injuries, adjust to life back home. Sisco heard about the treatment from a friend. He wanted to see if it could help his heroes. As they walked into the shipping company, Sisco mentioned to his wife that he couldn’t see well and needed to get his contact lenses changed. Randall, the chiropractor, tested Sisco and his wife and spun them in the chair. Afterward, the couple left to go to a restaurant. “I walked out and I could just see like an eagle,” Sisco said. “I thought ‘What on earth did they do?’” He was told at the clinic that his eyes were not lined up to each other or coordinating with his inner ear — and the chair had restored him. Former Navy SEAL Marcus Luttrell has supported the Carrick Brain Centers' treatment for veterans at its Irving clinic. “I didn’t have to change my contacts,” he said. “Everything was peaches and cream.” Sisco said he told two people. One was Marcus Luttrell, the former Navy SEAL portrayed in the movie Lone Survivor. The other was an old friend, then-Gov. Rick Perry. Perry’s first visit Not long after Sisco’s visit, the Carrick Brain Centers’ Irving facility opened. Perry visited in early June 2013. Operations were just getting underway. Perry came on a Monday. The chair had been moved from Beam’s shipping office the previous Friday, Maher said. Perry was accompanied by Suzanna Hupp, a survivor of the 1991 Luby’s restaurant massacre in Killeen. Hupp, a former state representative and a chiropractor, recently had accepted a veteran services post with Texas’ Health and Human Services Commission. Within six months, her agency would be funding research at the clinic. Hupp declined to be interviewed. But she said in a prepared statement to The News and KXAS-TV (NBC5) that she and Perry took a tour. Employees “fielded questions” and Hupp “witnessed a partial evaluation and examples of their treatment protocol.” If the clinic looked good to visitors, behind the scenes there was turmoil and a simmering legal battle over the chair. Its inventor, Maher, said the clinic owners at the time wanted to sell franchises, hoping to create what was described as “a brain center McDonald’s.” Maher said they wanted him to sell his chair to them and no one else. When he resisted, he said, they tracked down and bought a patent related to another chair that was marketed as a treatment for vertigo — then claimed Maher was infringing on the patent. The clinic owners at the time sued Maher four days after Perry’s visit. Treating PTSD It’s unclear when the clinic began offering treatment for PTSD. The clinic’s current owners wouldn’t say. In May 2013, Internet archives show, the clinic’s website didn’t include PTSD in a list of disorders treated. By the end of July, after Perry’s visit, the website featured an image of a soldier in combat fatigues and a caption that read: “PTSD Treatment at a Place of Hope.” By August 2013, Luttrell had thrown his support behind the clinic. Who's who Frederick “Ted” Carrick Canadian-born chiropractor. Credited with inventing a type of chiropractic called “functional neurology” that is supposed to help patients with brain disorders. Revered by many patients; criticized by medical doctors. Namesake of Irving-based Carrick Brain Centers. Until June, worked at the centers’ Atlanta office. Kenneth Beam Chief executive officer of the Carrick Brain Centers. Runs a shipping company in Coppell. A Carrick-inspired treatment for his daughter spurred him into opening the business. Fired Ted Carrick in June. Gary “Cagan” Randall A chiropractor who is a founder of and head clinician for Carrick Brain Centers. Appears in many of the company's videos and frequently promotes its signature treatment, a gyrating chair. Dr. Kyle Janek Appointed by Rick Perry to head the Texas Health and Human Services Commission. Stepped down in July following a contracting scandal unrelated to the Carrick research. At Perry’s urging, authorized $2.2 million in state funds to test a new treatment for PTSD at the centers’ Irving clinic. Gov. Rick Perry Learned of Carrick Brain Centers through a friend. Urged HHSC to fund research at the Irving clinic. Visited the Irving clinic at least three times. Supporters for his most recent presidential bid include veterans who’ve been treated there. So had Taya Kyle, the widow of Chris Kyle, the SEAL portrayed in Clint Eastwood’s movie American Sniper. Both Luttrell and Kyle took to the Internet to help raise money so a disabled vet — a mutual friend — could get treatment at the clinic. Luttrell would eventually announce on social media that an $80,000 check had been sent to the clinic for his friend’s treatment. Luttrell did not respond to interview requests. But his twin brother, Morgan, a fellow Navy SEAL, and Sisco said Marcus has been a patient at the clinic. A clinic YouTube video and a post on its website say he was treated there. Support for the clinic was building at the state Capitol as well. At the center was Dr. Kyle Janek, then executive commissioner of the Texas Health and Human Services Commission and a Perry appointee. “PTSD in American veterans is a public health crisis,” Janek recently wrote in an email to The Dallas Morning News and NBC5 after declining to be interviewed. “Governor Perry made it clear: The State of Texas needed to do something about it.” A top Perry aide, Mike Morrissey, helped arrange a visit in late August 2013. State officials, including Janek, showed up in force. “As a physician trained in traditional medicine, I am naturally skeptical of any new treatment,” Janek wrote in his email. “But to a small segment of veterans at the end of their rope — it appeared it could be a lifesaver.” In the money Perry personally received updates about the clinic’s work, some to a private email address. “Governor … I’m looking forward to starting the treatment protocol at Carrick tomorrow morning,” vet Jeff Broaddus wrote in a September 2013 email that he copied to HHSC’s Hupp. “I promise you an honest assessment of what I find up here.” Broaddus didn’t respond to an interview request. Perry received an invitation to a celebration at the clinic in October, records from his office show. The clinic said he didn’t attend. Beam, Carrick’s CEO, also contacted Perry’s office in November 2013. He emailed a video testimonial from a veteran treated at the clinic. At the end of December, Janek made his first award to Carrick, for $800,000. There had been no statewide competition for the best ideas, and no evaluation of the research plans by scientists who specialize in PTSD. Beam and his wife, Darla, would later give as much as the law allows to Perry’s presidential campaign: $2,700 each. Beam wrote to The News and NBC5 that the donation was a personal decision that is an option “for anyone.” Questionable oversight? Critics say a state agency funded flawed research intended to help ailing vets. ‘Pseudoscientific babble’ Veterans with PTSD came from all over the country to the Irving clinic — from California to Maine and many states in between. The first contract paid for about 50 veterans. Two weeks of treatment, travel and a hotel stay cost about $16,000 for each. Veteran Nicholas Koumalatsos said he was part of the study. In a blog about his treatment, he said veterans could spend time at Carrick in a “relaxation room” equipped with easy chairs, a couch and a TV. At a nearby gym, former professional baseball and football players devised personalized fitness plans. A nonprofit that provides adventure weekends for veterans came by to sign them up for fishing or hunting. A climbing gym was also on the itinerary. As part of the research plan, vets were tested, treated and tested again to see whether their PTSD symptoms had lessened. The treatment included time in the chair. The clinic saw a slight decrease in PTSD symptoms and claimed success. Beam and Randall explain the connection between PTSD and the brain’s balance system like this: The system “activates the entire cortex and ascending reticular system ... increasing function of the orbitofrontal lobe (where PTSD lives) ... and increasing digestion of food that helps reduce inflammation.” Those words have no meaning, said Appelbaum, the Columbia University psychiatrist. “This is pseudoscientific babble that would be uninterpretable to any neuroscientist,” he said. One glaring problem with the research plan: no control group. Another: Each vet got a customized treatment instead of the same one. It’s impossible to draw conclusions from a study like that, said retired Army Col. Carl Castro, a University of Southern California psychologist who does research on PTSD. Even the accommodations may have skewed the results. “Putting them up two weeks in a hotel is like a vacation,” Castro said. “So in some sense they proved that sending someone on vacation makes them feel better.” Conflicting claims The “Off Vertical Axis Rotation Device” – a computer-controlled rotating chair – is a signature treatment at the Carrick Brain Centers’ Irving clinic. Patients buckle in and are rotated upside down and sideways at different angles. The centers’ website says the chair is used to treat a variety of conditions by stimulating the brain’s balance system. Experts say that such a device could be used to research how the brain works but question whether it can provide any medical benefit. Here’s a look at the clinic’s claims and what experts say: Select a condition Vertigo, dizziness, balance or vision problems What Carrick Brain Centers says The chair, described as a “breakthrough” therapy, targets the body’s vestibular system — parts of the brain and inner ear that control eye movement and balance. What experts say The only condition that might be helped by the chair is one type of vertigo. But that condition can be treated without special equipment. Doctors — using an established procedure — tilt a patient’s head in different directions to dislodge calcium crystals in the inner ear that interfere with balance. Concussion What Carrick Brain Centers says The chair provides “neurological rehabilitation” and “hope to everyday patients and professional athletes whose lives have been impacted by concussions.” What experts say There’s no medical evidence that motion can be used to treat concussions. Post-traumatic stress disorder in people who have suffered a traumatic brain injury What Carrick Brain Centers says TBI can affect the brain’s balance system. And TBI can increase the risk for PTSD. So stimulating the brain’s balance system could alleviate PTSD. After spending $2.2 million in taxpayer dollars to test this idea, the clinic concluded that treatment including the chair helps alleviate PTSD. What experts say The clinic’s reasoning is flawed. Problems in the brain’s balance system are not known to contribute to PTSD. And the state-funded study didn’t prove the chair helped because the study didn’t use a control group. ‘I know what works’ “People can say whatever they want to say. I know what works,” said Koumalatsos, who retired from Marine special operations in 2012. “When I went in, I was on the border of suicide. Within two weeks I came out with the most clear thought process and direction for my life that I’ve had being an adult.” Koumalatsos said he has tried psychotherapy and medication for PTSD. Neither worked. He thinks the clinic gets results. And he doesn’t have much use for scientists and doctors who question its methods. “You know what they’re not doing? Changing people’s lives for the positive,” he said of scientists and doctors. “They’re building up red tape. They’re making things more complicated — and they’re losing focus of actually helping people.” Castro, the USC psychologist, agrees that better treatment is needed and said he understands why vets are frustrated. But the spinning chair is not the answer, he said. “As a veteran, I would never get into that chair expecting it to do anything.” More visits, more money Perry’s interest in helping ailing vets contributed to a financial boon for the clinic, and some of the vets he admires became its passionate advocates. In May 2014, Janek approved an extension, and $800,000 was earmarked to treat about 50 more vets. Perry was back for a visit in August. Based on his calendar, it appears that Marcus Luttrell and two other Navy SEALS met Perry there. The clinic said it was to discuss “additional veterans’ programs and how Carrick Brain Centers can help.” Perry visited again in November 2014, this time, according to the clinic, “to discuss ways we could raise funds to help veterans in need of our services.” His son, Griffin, and several other business executives accompanied him. One of them, Rick Covert, said that Beam asked him to invest in the clinic but that he made a charitable donation instead. The day after the November visit, Janek extended Carrick’s contract again. The clinic ultimately got more than $600,000 to treat about 40 additional veterans. This time, the HHSC routed money from the Texas Workforce Commission to the clinic. The TWC was asked why it funded research for PTSD. A spokeswoman said it was to improve “job readiness.” PTSD and traumatic brain injuries, she said, can be “significant hurdles to maintaining employment.” Janek said the state entered into the original contract and the two extensions “at my discretion.”

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