It was the craving to keep my head in a correct position that induced the habit of leaning my chin on something, and I found it essential to feel the contact; familiarity, however, soon ended in my failing to perceive it, and a new movement was made that I might experience the sensation once more. And so on the ball rolled, till augmentation of the force I exerted, under a constant incitement to feel something more or something else, resulted in the formation of callosities on nose and chin.
It was the craving to keep my head in a correct position that induced the habit of leaning my chin on something, and I found it essential to feel the contact; familiarity, however, soon ended in my failing to perceive it, and a new movement was made that I might experience the sensation once more. And so on the ball rolled, till augmentation of the force I exerted, under a constant incitement to feel something more or something else, resulted in the formation of callosities on nose and chin.
In this way factitious wants come into being, which may be described as a sort ofparasitic functionof which the patient is alike the creator and the dupe.
O.'s therapeutic ingenuity, however, could not rest satisfied except when some fresh contrivance was being put to the test. Needless to say, at one time he experimented with the stiff collars affected by some sufferers from mental torticollis.
At the commencement I used to wear collars of medium height, though not wide enough to admit my chin. An attempt to obviatethe difficulty by unbuttoning my shirt and bending my head down so as to keep my chin in the opening proved abortive, owing to the weakness of the resistance, so I purchased much higher and suffer ones, in which I buried my lower jaw and prevented its moving at all. The success of this method was transitory, nevertheless, for however stiffly they were starched, the collars invariably yielded in the end and presented a lamentable aspect. I next happened on the fatuous plan of attaching a string to my brace buttons, and passing it up under my waistcoat to connect it with a little ivory plate that I held between my teeth, its length being so arranged that in order to seize the plate I had to lower my head. Admirable idea! I soon was forced to abandon it, however, for my trousers were pulled up on the right in a way that was as grotesque as it was uncomfortable. I have always had a weakness for the principle of the thing, nevertheless, and even to-day as I go down the street I sometimes catch hold of the collar of my jacket or vest with my teeth and stroll along in this way. At home it is the collar of my shirt that acts as my tether.
At the commencement I used to wear collars of medium height, though not wide enough to admit my chin. An attempt to obviatethe difficulty by unbuttoning my shirt and bending my head down so as to keep my chin in the opening proved abortive, owing to the weakness of the resistance, so I purchased much higher and suffer ones, in which I buried my lower jaw and prevented its moving at all. The success of this method was transitory, nevertheless, for however stiffly they were starched, the collars invariably yielded in the end and presented a lamentable aspect. I next happened on the fatuous plan of attaching a string to my brace buttons, and passing it up under my waistcoat to connect it with a little ivory plate that I held between my teeth, its length being so arranged that in order to seize the plate I had to lower my head. Admirable idea! I soon was forced to abandon it, however, for my trousers were pulled up on the right in a way that was as grotesque as it was uncomfortable. I have always had a weakness for the principle of the thing, nevertheless, and even to-day as I go down the street I sometimes catch hold of the collar of my jacket or vest with my teeth and stroll along in this way. At home it is the collar of my shirt that acts as my tether.
The retrocollic attitude that O. favours seems to have had the further effect of making him forget how to look down. There is no impairment of any of the eye movements, but he has considerable trouble in directing his gaze downwards, and if with his head in the normal position he holds a book below the level of the plane of his eyes, reading is more arduous, and after a little time impossible. Yet there is no indication whatever of ocular paresis; it is rather a sort of apprehension from which he suffers. On several occasions we have remarked a synergy of function, head and eyes moving upward in unison.
Our patient's category of tics is not yet exhausted, however. He has been afflicted with a shoulder tic, consisting of simultaneous or alternate elevation, sometimes of other movements, and always with some abduction of the arms. Frequent execution of these actions has culminated in the acquisition of the faculty of voluntarily producing a rather loud "crack" in the shoulder articulations, which thus not merely originatedin a tic, but supplies an ever-active stimulus for its reproduction; in its occurrence satisfaction and dissatisfaction are blended as before. At the present moment the impulse to this particular tic is in abeyance, and he has ceased to take any interest in the "crack," considering it a trivial society accomplishment of no significance or danger, analogous to voluntary subluxation of the thumb, or to the curious sounds that some people are fond of making by way of diversion.
Again, O. has been a martyr to a leg tic of several months' duration. When he was on his feet, he learned to strike his right heel against his left ankle, wearing his trouser through in no time, and ceasing only with the development of a painful wound over the bone. Once it was healed, however, came the deliberate search for the sensation again, and the pleasurable feeling in its rediscovery.
In O.'s case the inhibitory influence of the will on his tics is abundantly manifest. Should he find himself in the company of one from whom he would fain conceal his tics, he is able to repress them completely for an hour or two, and similarly if he is deep in an interesting or serious conversation. Nevertheless, the desire to let himself go obtrudes itself again, and if he can refrain no longer he will invent any pretext for leaving the room, abandoning himself in his moment of solitude to a veritable debauch of absurd gesticulations, a wild muscular carnival, from which he returns comforted, to resume sedately the thread of the interrupted dialogue.
O. is fond of cycling, and while at first the attention that the necessary co-ordination of hands and feet demanded proved an effective barrier in the way of his tics, now that he can maintain his equilibrium automatically his head assumes its favourite attitude of posterior displacement. His devotion to a game ofbilliards, or to such exercises as fencing or rowing, is never interfered with by an unruly tic. He is a great fisher, and when he "has a bite," or is expecting one, he will remain motionless indefinitely; his tics do not hinder him from preparing his bait with the minutest care. But let his interest in his prospective catch fade, let the fish be disinclined to "take," and there will be a renewal of the movements.
In his sleep they one and all disappear. The mere assumption of a horizontal position, however, no longer suffices to bridle them, and before dropping off to sleep he passes many a minute in seeking comfort. The rubbing of his head on the pillow, the rustling of the clothes, disturb and exasperate him, and he turns in this direction and that for relief; yet should he hear or feel nothing, he will change about once more in the search for a sensation or a sound. Thus has it come about that to procure slumber he has adopted the extraordinary plan of lying at the very edge of the bed and letting his head hang over.
The series is not yet at an end.
O. exhibits a tic of the inferior maxilla. He protrudes and retracts his jaw alternately in his endeavour to elicit cracking noises from his temporo-maxillary articulations. At one time his hands used to join in the fray, the goal being to overcome the masseters and effect a sort of dislocation. A biting tic ensued. One day O. was alarmed to discover two dark patches on the internal aspect of the cheeks, but was reassured on learning from his sister—whose proclivities lay in a similar direction—that she had noticed the same in her own case, and that it was the result of constant nibbling at the buccal mucous membrane.
Nor was this the solitary biting tic. Formerlya pencil or a pen-holder used to be unrecognisable at the end of twenty-four hours, and the handles of canes and umbrellas suffered as well. To obviate the nuisance he entertained the unfortunate idea of using metal pen-holders and carrying silver-mounted walking-sticks; but his teeth failed to make any impression on the objects, and began to break in consequence. The irritation produced by a small dental abscess proved an additional source of mischief, for he developed the habit of trying, with finger, cane, or pen-holder, to shake the teeth in their sockets, and was finally compelled to have the incisors, canines, and first molars drawn. Then he ordered a set of false teeth—a move that afforded a new excuse for a tic. Every moment the set was in imminent risk of being swallowed, so vigorously did his tongue and lips assail it. Fortunately such an accident has never occurred, although he has already broken several sets. Sometimes he would be seized with an insane impulse to take his teeth out, and would invent the flimsiest pretext for retiring; the set would then be extracted and immediately reinserted, to his complete satisfaction and peace of mind.
An infinite variety of scratching tics must be added to the number. He has also a tic of phonation dating back to his fifteenth year. His custom was, when learning his lessons at school, to punctuate his recital of them with little soft expiratory noises that may still be distinguished to-day among a host of other tics. The following is his proffered explanation of the pathogeny of this "clucking" tic:
We who tic are consumed with a desire for the forbidden fruit. It is when we are required to keep quiet that we are tempted to restlessness; it is when silence is compulsory that we feel we must talk. Now, when one is learning his lessons, conversation is prohibited, the natural consequence being that he seeks to evade the galling interdict by giving vent to some inarticulate sound. In this fashion did my "cluck" comeinto being. Moreover, we abhor a vacuum, and fill it as we may. Various are the artifices we might employ—such, for instance, as speaking aloud; but that is much too obvious, and does not satisfy: to make a little grunt or cluck, on the other hand—what a comfort in a tic like that!
We who tic are consumed with a desire for the forbidden fruit. It is when we are required to keep quiet that we are tempted to restlessness; it is when silence is compulsory that we feel we must talk. Now, when one is learning his lessons, conversation is prohibited, the natural consequence being that he seeks to evade the galling interdict by giving vent to some inarticulate sound. In this fashion did my "cluck" comeinto being. Moreover, we abhor a vacuum, and fill it as we may. Various are the artifices we might employ—such, for instance, as speaking aloud; but that is much too obvious, and does not satisfy: to make a little grunt or cluck, on the other hand—what a comfort in a tic like that!
We need not smile at these explanations, for they are corroborated by the facts of clinical observation. Fear of silence is nothing else than a form of phobia, comparable to the fear of open spaces.
O.'s account of the origin of his tics supplies further evidence of the mental infantilism of those with whom we are at present concerned. It is the prerogative of "spoilt children" to wish to do exactly what they are forbidden to do. They seem to be animated by a spirit of contrariness and of resistance; and if in normal individuals reason and reflection prevail with the approach of maturity, in these "big babies" many traces of childhood persist, in spite of the march of years.
In the strict sense of the words there never has been any echolalia or coprolalia in O.'s case, though it has happened that expressions lacking in refinement have escaped him; but he never has been consciously yet irresistibly urged to utter a gross word. The sole vestige of anything of the kind is a sort offrustecoprolalia that consists in an impulse to use slang—an impulse which he cannot withstand and which he finds consolation in obeying.
Some additional details may be submitted to illustrate the intimate analogies between tics and obsessions.
O. is a great cigarette smoker, and with him the call to smoke is inexorable. It is not so much, however, the effects of the narcotic for which he seeks as the sum of the sensations derived from the act—the rustling of the tobacco in the paper, the crackleof the match, the sight of the cloud of smoke, the fragrance of it, the tickling of nose and throat, the touch of the cigarette in the fingers, or between the lips—in a word, a whole series of stimuli, visual, auditory, olfactory, and tactile, whose habitual repetition gradually introduces into the act of smoking an automatic element that brings it into line with the tics. The suppression of this parasitic function commonly produces a feeling of the utmost discomfort; inability to indulge in it causes the keenest anguish. More agonising than the actual impossibility of smoking is the idea of its being impossible. Hence it is that O. lights cigarette after cigarette, taking a few whiffs at each and throwing them aside scarce touched, or leaving them here, there, and everywhere. The dose is immaterial; it is the rehearsal of the act he finds so soothing.
In regard to his taste for liquor a similar description might be given. The intoxicating effect of any beverage had little attraction for him; it was the drinker's gesture and the numerous accompanying sensations that he sought to renew. Any form of drink, therefore, served to gratify his desire; in other words, his behaviour revealed a phase of dipsomania rather than a stage of alcoholism. For that matter, the development of symptoms of alcoholic poisoning proved a blessing in disguise, since they reinforced the inhibitory power of the will, and enabled it to abort a sensori-motor habit that had wellnigh become established.
No objective alteration in cutaneous sensibility in any of its forms is discoverable on examination of O., but he bewails a long array of subjective sensations, painful or disagreeable as the case may be. Certain abdominal pains in particular occupy his thoughts: after being in bed about an hour he begins to suffer from pain in the abdomen and across the kidneys, so acute that he is forced to rise and walkabout his room, or sit on one chair after another; at length it moderates enough to allow return to bed and permit of sleep. During these crises there is no sign of any local pathological condition, no distention or tenderness or evacuation of the bowel. They usually last for some days at a time and disappear suddenly, as when, after several nights' and days' uninterrupted suffering, his pains vanished as by an enchanter's wand once he set foot on the boat that was to take him to England.
We have had the opportunity of observing our patient in the throes of one of these attacks, and while we did not doubt the genuineness of his sufferings, we could not but be struck with the dramatic exuberance of his gestures. He wriggled on his chair, unbuttoned his clothes, undid his necktie and his collar, pressed his abdomen with his hands, sobbed and sighed and pretended to swoon away. Such excessive reaction to pain is characteristic of a nervous and badly trained child, not of a man of his years. Notwithstanding his humiliation at these exhibitions of weakness, he can no more control them than he can his ordinary tics; in fact, the tics run riot during the crises of pain.
On several occasions the reflexes have been the object of examination. The pupillary reactions are normal, as are the tendon reflexes of the upper extremity; but the knee jerks are much diminished, and one day we failed to elicit them at all, though we noted their return a week later. A careful search for further signs of possible cerebro-spinal mischief proved negative, if we except a slight flexion of the knees when walking and a tendency to a shuffling gait.
Notwithstanding this absence, in O.'s case, of any definite indication of organic disease, we cannot afford,in our examination of patients, to overlook any symptom, however fleeting or trivial it may appear, since it is only by painstaking investigation both on the physical and the mental side that we can ever hope to determine the characters and fathom the nature of the affection, apart from the value of such an investigation as an aid to diagnosis, prognosis, and treatment.
With charming spontaneity and frankness, but critically withal, O. has furnished us with a picture of his mental state. Nothing could be truer or more instructive than this piece of self-observation, even though his obvious pleasure in hearing himself talk is a little weakness of which, to tell the truth, he is the first to accuse himself:
In childhood and at school my accomplishments were ever on the same dead level of mediocrity. I was neither brilliant nor backward; in the drawing-room or in the playground, I was good at everything without excelling in anything; the astonishing facility with which I learned to sing, play, draw, and paint, was linked with inability to distinguish myself at these pursuits.Each new study, each new game, attract and captivate me at first, but I soon tire of them, and once a fresh enterprise has taken their place, indifference to them changes to disgust. If I am amused with a thing, I do it well; if bored, I throw it aside. I suppose it is characteristic of people who tic to be fickle and vacillating.
In childhood and at school my accomplishments were ever on the same dead level of mediocrity. I was neither brilliant nor backward; in the drawing-room or in the playground, I was good at everything without excelling in anything; the astonishing facility with which I learned to sing, play, draw, and paint, was linked with inability to distinguish myself at these pursuits.
Each new study, each new game, attract and captivate me at first, but I soon tire of them, and once a fresh enterprise has taken their place, indifference to them changes to disgust. If I am amused with a thing, I do it well; if bored, I throw it aside. I suppose it is characteristic of people who tic to be fickle and vacillating.
The versatility which is so fundamental an element in O.'s nature has not been prejudicial to his business career. He has managed and still manages important commercial undertakings, demanding initiative and decision, and, so far from sparing himself in any way, he has exhibited a combination of caution and audacity that has stood him in good stead. It is more especially in the conduct of urgent operations that his alertness is displayed. His comprehensive grasp of the situation enables him to put his machinery at once into action,with eminently satisfactory results, if we judge by his prosperous and assured position.
His mobile and impulsive temperament is revealed in his every deed, but he shows at the same time a curious disposition to alternate between the pros and the cons of a question. It is the outcome of his extremely analytical and introspective mind.
I find myself seeking a knot in every bulrush. I experience a sensation of pleasure only to tax my ingenuity in discovering some danger or blame therein. If a person produces an agreeable impression on me, I cudgel my brains in the attempt to detect faults in him. I take it into my head to ascertain how anything from which I derive enjoyment might become an aversion instead. The absurdity of these inconsistencies is perfectly patent to me, and my reflections occasion me pain; but the attainment of my ends is accompanied with a feeling of pleasure.In regard to my tics, what I find most insupportable is the thought that I am making myself ridiculous and that every one is laughing at me. I seem to notice in each person I pass in the street a curious look of scorn or of pity that is either humiliating or irritating. No doubt my statement is a little exaggerated, but my fellows and I have an overweening self-conceit. We wish to be ignored, and yet we wish to be considered; it is annoying to be the object of sympathy, but we cannot bear to become a laughing-stock. Accordingly our goal is the dissimulation of our failing by any means feasible; yet nine times out of ten our efforts are abortive simply because we invent a tic to hide a tic, and so add both to the ridicule and the disease.
I find myself seeking a knot in every bulrush. I experience a sensation of pleasure only to tax my ingenuity in discovering some danger or blame therein. If a person produces an agreeable impression on me, I cudgel my brains in the attempt to detect faults in him. I take it into my head to ascertain how anything from which I derive enjoyment might become an aversion instead. The absurdity of these inconsistencies is perfectly patent to me, and my reflections occasion me pain; but the attainment of my ends is accompanied with a feeling of pleasure.
In regard to my tics, what I find most insupportable is the thought that I am making myself ridiculous and that every one is laughing at me. I seem to notice in each person I pass in the street a curious look of scorn or of pity that is either humiliating or irritating. No doubt my statement is a little exaggerated, but my fellows and I have an overweening self-conceit. We wish to be ignored, and yet we wish to be considered; it is annoying to be the object of sympathy, but we cannot bear to become a laughing-stock. Accordingly our goal is the dissimulation of our failing by any means feasible; yet nine times out of ten our efforts are abortive simply because we invent a tic to hide a tic, and so add both to the ridicule and the disease.
Alike in speaking and in writing O. betrays an advanced degree of mental instability. His conversation is a tissue of disconnected thoughts and uncompleted sentences; he interrupts himself to diverge at a tangent on a new train of ideas—a method of procedure not without its charm, as it frequently results in picturesque and amusing associations. No sooner has he expressed one idea in words than another rises in his mind, a third, a fourth, each of which must be suitably clothed; but as time fails for this purpose, the consequence is a series of obscure ellipses which are often captivating by their very unexpectedness.
His writing presents an analogous characteristic.
It has often happened that I have commenced a business letter in the usual formal way, gradually to lose sight of its object in a crowd of superfluous details. Worse still, if the matter in hand be delicate or wearisome, my impatience is not slow to assert itself by remarks and reproaches so pointed and violent that my only course on reperusal of the letter is to tear it up.
It has often happened that I have commenced a business letter in the usual formal way, gradually to lose sight of its object in a crowd of superfluous details. Worse still, if the matter in hand be delicate or wearisome, my impatience is not slow to assert itself by remarks and reproaches so pointed and violent that my only course on reperusal of the letter is to tear it up.
By way of precaution, therefore, O. has adopted the plan of having all his correspondence re-read by his colleague. Strangely enough, to his actual caligraphy no exception can be taken. The firmness of the characters, the accuracy of the punctuation and accentuation, the straightness of the lines, are as good as in any commercial handwriting.
With the aggravation of his head tics writing has become a serious affair. Every conceivable attitude has been essayed in turn, and at present the device he favours is to sit across a chair and rest his chin or his nose on the back; in this fashion he can write all that is required.
O.'s every act is characterised by extreme impatience. In his hurry he comes into collision with surrounding objects or breaks what he is carrying in his hand, not because of defective vision or inco-ordination of movement, but because of his eagerness to be done.
In spite of the fact that I know my recklessness to be absurd, that I see well enough the obstacles around and the danger of an encounter, I am conscious of a paradoxical impulse to do exactly what I should not do. In the same instant of time I want what I do not want. As I pass through a door I knock against the door-post without fail, for the sole reason that I would avoid it.
In spite of the fact that I know my recklessness to be absurd, that I see well enough the obstacles around and the danger of an encounter, I am conscious of a paradoxical impulse to do exactly what I should not do. In the same instant of time I want what I do not want. As I pass through a door I knock against the door-post without fail, for the sole reason that I would avoid it.
There is impatience in his speech. His volubility makes him out short his own phrases or break in upon the conversation of others. If an idea suggestsitself, he must give it expression. Perhaps the word wedded to the idea is not at once forthcoming, yet he does not hesitate to invent a neologism, which is often amusing in spite of or because of its oddness, and if it please him he will enter it in his vocabulary and use it in preference to the other.
To wait is foreign to his nature. The least delay at table exasperates him; any order he gives must be executed instanter; no sooner has he set out than he would be at his journey's end. An obstruction or difficulty in the way is the signal for a fresh outburst; his irritation soon exceeds all bounds; his language degenerates into brutality, his gestures become increasingly violent and menacing.
It is not with any surprise, then, that we learn in O.'s case of incipient homicidal and suicidal ideas.
At times when my tics were in full force evil thoughts have often surged over me, and on two or three occasions I have picked up a revolver, but reason fortunately has come to the rescue.
At times when my tics were in full force evil thoughts have often surged over me, and on two or three occasions I have picked up a revolver, but reason fortunately has come to the rescue.
As a matter of fact, the suicidal tendencies of some sufferers from tic are seldom full-blown. The will is too unstable to effect their realisation. Hence the patient's hints at doing away with himself are nothing more than empty verbiage. Similarly with the inclination to commit homicide, it vanishes as soon as it arises.
The term "vertigos" is used by O. to designate a long series of little "manias" or obsessional fears from which he suffers, among which may be enumerated dread of passing along certain streets and a consequent impulse to walk through others; dread of breaking any fragile object he holds in his hands, coupled with the temptation to let it fall; fear of heights, and at the same time a desire to throw himself into space.
I have often stood on the edge of the pavement waiting for a vehicle to pass, and at the moment of its approach darted across just under the horse's nose. On each occasion I have been conscious equally of the absurdity and yet of the irresistibility of the idea; each time the attempt to withstand it has been labour lost.
I have often stood on the edge of the pavement waiting for a vehicle to pass, and at the moment of its approach darted across just under the horse's nose. On each occasion I have been conscious equally of the absurdity and yet of the irresistibility of the idea; each time the attempt to withstand it has been labour lost.
O. is a great nosophobe. At one time he was immoderately apprehensive of contracting hydrophobia, and used to flee from the first dog he saw. To his sincere regret he had several of his pet dogs killed, because of his conviction that they would become infected, although he felt such harsh measures to be quite unjustifiable. At a subsequent stage he turned syphilophobe for no adequate reason. He was alarmed lest a minute pimple on his chin should develop into a chancre. Recently his chief misgiving has been that he may become ataxic or demented.
Among his various afflictions mention must be made of an umbilical hernia, supposed to have originated in the chafing of his umbilicus by a belt he was wearing during a long spell in a canoe. As a matter of fact, the hernia is purely imaginary—at any rate, there is no trace of it to-day. Yet at the first it bulked very largely in his mind, and he is still fully persuaded of its reality, though no longer of its gravity.
O. further complains of all sorts of noises in his ears, but these are simply the ordinary sounds that one can produce in the middle ear by clenching the jaws together. He will not accept so obvious an explanation, however, preferring to regard them as indubitable evidence of the "lesion" with which he is preoccupied. The tinnitus, therefore, is rather of the nature of an illusion than of a hallucination.
He is distinctly emotional, and lives at the mercy of his emotions, but from their very bitterness he contrives to derive some pleasure. His passion forhorse-racing is not due to the fascination of the sport, but to a bitter-sweet sensation which the excitement of the scene calls into being. He is indifferent to arrest or aggravation of his tics; all that he seeks is the association of a certain sense of anguish with certain "tremolos in the limbs," wherewith he is greatly delighted.
In the domain of his affections there does not appear to be any abnormality. O. is an excellent paterfamilias, adoring his children, but spoiling them badly at the same time. In this part of our examination we did not press for details, but as far as we have gathered he is capable of sympathies keenly felt though rarely sustained.
Thus, whatever be the circumstances, changeableness, versatility, want of balance, are manifested clearly in all his mental operations; and when he remarks himself on the youthfulness of his disposition, he is simply stating a truism as far as those who tic are concerned, for, in spite of the advance of years, their mental condition is one of infantilism.
Under our direction O. has devoted several months to the eradication of his tics, and he has not been slow to appreciate the aim of the method or to acquire its technique. One of the first results was the repudiation of various procedures more harmful than otherwise, and the successful endeavour to maintain absolute immobility for an increasing space of time. The outcome of it all has been a gradual diminution of the tics in number, frequency, and violence, and a corresponding physical and mental amelioration.
We do not intend in this place to enlarge on the details of our treatment: suffice it to say that it consisted in a combination of Brissaud's "movements of immobilisation" and "immobilisation of movements"with Pitres's respiratory exercises and the mirror drill advocated by one of us. To-day the utility of these measures is an accepted fact; but at the same time we rely on an inseparable adjunct in the shape of mental therapeusis, seeking to make the patient understand the rationale of the discipline imposed.
Our task has been lightened to an unusual degree through O.'s intimate acquaintance with the beginnings of his tics and his striking faculty of assimilation. On many occasions he has anticipated our intentions and of his own accord outlined a programme in harmony with the indications we were about to give him. Thanks to this happy combination of circumstances, the improvement effected by our treatment has been quickly manifested.
I am conscious of very material gain. I do not tic so often or with such force. I know how to keep still. Above all, I have learned the secret of inhibition. Absurd gestures that I once thought irrepressible have succumbed to the power of application; I have dispensed with my para-tic cane; the callosities on my chin and nose have vanished; and I can walk without carrying my head in the air. This advance has not been made without a struggle, without moments of discouragement; but I have emerged victorious, strong in my knowledge of the resources of my will.... To tell the truth, at my age I can scarcely hope for an absolute cure. Were I only fifteen, such would be my ambition; but as I am, so shall I remain. I very much doubt whether I shall ever have the necessary perseverance to master all my tics, and I am too prone to imagine fresh ones; yet the thought no longer alarms me. Experience has shown the possibilities of control, and my tics have lost their terror. Thus have disappeared half my troubles.
I am conscious of very material gain. I do not tic so often or with such force. I know how to keep still. Above all, I have learned the secret of inhibition. Absurd gestures that I once thought irrepressible have succumbed to the power of application; I have dispensed with my para-tic cane; the callosities on my chin and nose have vanished; and I can walk without carrying my head in the air. This advance has not been made without a struggle, without moments of discouragement; but I have emerged victorious, strong in my knowledge of the resources of my will.... To tell the truth, at my age I can scarcely hope for an absolute cure. Were I only fifteen, such would be my ambition; but as I am, so shall I remain. I very much doubt whether I shall ever have the necessary perseverance to master all my tics, and I am too prone to imagine fresh ones; yet the thought no longer alarms me. Experience has shown the possibilities of control, and my tics have lost their terror. Thus have disappeared half my troubles.
The same sagacity that O. displayed in analysis of his tics has enabled him to grasp the principles of their subjugation. Notwithstanding that his guarded prognosis is evidence for his appreciation of the hindrance his peculiar mental constitution is to a complete cure, he has impartially put onrecord his definite progress towards health of body and mind.
Such, then, is the faithfully reported story of our model, such are his confessions.
During ten years' intercourse with sufferers from tic it has been our interest to analyse and reconstruct the pathogenic mechanism of their symptoms, and in the vast majority of cases it has been possible to determine the origin of the tics and to confirm the association with them of a peculiar mental state. We have thus been able to supplement earlier and weighty contributions to the subject by numerous suggestive instances, prominent among which is the case of O., whose spontaneous and impartial self-examination forms an invaluable clinical document. Its importance is enhanced by the fact that its observations are corroborated by a survey of other examples of the disease.
With commendable good-humour, keenness, and sincerity, O. has of his own accord plunged into the minutiæ of his malady, and exhibited a rare appreciation and precision in the scrutiny of his symptoms. The mere enumeration of them stamps the record as one of outstanding clinical importance, but it is the study of their pathogeny that is so fascinating. For a moment the doubt crossed our mind that O.'s explanations might be merely a reflex of information culled from scientific journals or of conversations with medical friends, but this is not so. He has been prevented by his profession both from cultivating a taste for and from devoting any leisure to psychological and physiological questions, while he evinces an actual antipathy to medical literature, fearful as he is of contracting disease. The point we are desirous of emphasising, therefore, is simply this: that the resultsof O.'s voluntary and unprejudiced self-examination are in perfect harmony with the declarations of our older patients and with the statements of the majority of those that have made a special study of the tics. For these reasons we have taken O. as the prototype of thetiqueur.
WEhave just become acquainted with an individual who may, we believe, be considered the type of a species, and have described all his tics. What is a tic, then?
Its etymology has not much information to furnish. The probability is that the word was originally onomatopœic, and conveyed the idea of repetition, as in tick-tack.Zucken,ziehen,zugen,tucken,ticken,tick, in the dialects of German,tug,tick, in English,ticchioin Italian,ticoin Spanish, are all derivatives of the same root. It matters little, in fact, since the term is in general use and acceptable for its shortness and convenience. In popular language every one knows what is meant by a tic: it is a meaningless movement of face or limbs, "an habitual and unpleasant gesture," as the Encyclopædias used to say. But the definition lacks precision.
A glance at the history of the word will reveal through what vicissitudes it has passed. We need but remind the reader of its exhaustive treatment in the Dictionaries, and refer him for an elaborate bibliography to a recent work by R. Cruchet,[1]to which we shall have occasion to return.
There is no justification for regarding the risussardonicusof the ancients as a tic. All that we can say is that the phrase apparently stood for a complex of facial "nervous movements," whether accompanied by pains and paralyses or not. Nor can therictus caninusor thetortura orishave been other than spasms or oontractures of the face.
Previous to its introduction as a technical term, the wordtique,ticq,tic, was in current use in France, and applied in the first place to animals. In 1655 Jean Jourdin described thetiqueof horses. In eighteenth-century literature tic appears in the sense of a "recurring, distasteful act"—as expressed by theEncyclopædia—especially in individuals revealing certain eccentricities of mind or character. This old-time opinion is worth remembering, particularly in view of latter-day theories.
Once adopted by the eighteenth-century physicians, the application of the word was extended in various directions. André (1756) was the first to mentiontic douloureuxof the face, an affection excluded to-day by common consent from the category of true tics. Simple, painless convulsive tic, spreading from face to arms, and to the body as a whole, was differentiated by Pujol in 1785-7. During the earlier half of the nineteenth century no solid progress was achieved by the work of Graves, François (of Louvain), Romberg, Niemeyer, Valleix, or Axenfeld. It is to the clinical genius of Trousseau that we owe the rediscovery of tic, the careful observation of its objective manifestations, and the recognition of accompanying mental peculiarities.
In spite of the fact that he considered it a sort of incomplete chorea, and classed it[2]nosologically with saltatory and rotatory choreas and with occupationneuroses, Trousseau's original account remains a model of clinical accuracy:
Non-dolorous tic consists of abrupt momentary muscular contractions more or less limited as a general rule, involving preferably the face, but affecting also neck, trunk, and limbs. Their exhibition is a matter of everyday experience. In one case it may be a blinking of the eyelids, a spasmodic twitch of cheek, nose, or lip; in another, it is a toss of the head, a sudden, transient, yet ever-recurring contortion of the neck; in a third, it is a shrug of the shoulder, a convulsive movement of diaphragm or abdominal muscles,—in fine, the term embodies an infinite variety of bizarre actions that defy analysis.These tics are not infrequently associated with a highly characteristic cry or ejaculation—a sort of laryngeal or diaphragmatic chorea—which may of itself constitute the condition; or there may be a more elaborate symptom in the form of a curious impulse to repeat the same word or the same exclamation. Sometimes the patient is driven to utter aloud what he would fain conceal.
Non-dolorous tic consists of abrupt momentary muscular contractions more or less limited as a general rule, involving preferably the face, but affecting also neck, trunk, and limbs. Their exhibition is a matter of everyday experience. In one case it may be a blinking of the eyelids, a spasmodic twitch of cheek, nose, or lip; in another, it is a toss of the head, a sudden, transient, yet ever-recurring contortion of the neck; in a third, it is a shrug of the shoulder, a convulsive movement of diaphragm or abdominal muscles,—in fine, the term embodies an infinite variety of bizarre actions that defy analysis.
These tics are not infrequently associated with a highly characteristic cry or ejaculation—a sort of laryngeal or diaphragmatic chorea—which may of itself constitute the condition; or there may be a more elaborate symptom in the form of a curious impulse to repeat the same word or the same exclamation. Sometimes the patient is driven to utter aloud what he would fain conceal.
The advantage of this description is its applicability to every type of tic, trifling or serious, local or general, from the simplest ocular tic to the disease of Gilles de la Tourette. Polymorphism is one of the tic's distinguishing features.
Apart from his studies in objective localisation, Trousseau, as we have seen, recognised that the tic subject was mentally abnormal, but the credit of demonstrating the pathogenic significance of the psychical factor is Charcot's. Tic, he declared,[3]was physical only in appearance; under another aspect it was a mental disease, a sort of hereditary aberration.
Advance along the lines thus laid down has been the work more especially of Magnan and his pupils, of Gilles de la Tourette, Letulle, and Guinon. A meritorious contribution to the elucidation of the question is the thesis of Julien Noir, written under the inspiration of Bourneville and published in 1893. The still more recent labours of Brissaud, Pitres, and Grassetin France, and of others elsewhere, have added materially to our knowledge.
Confining ourselves for the present to the discussion of the latest interpretations put on the word tic, we may be allowed the remark that if the influence of Magnan's teaching has been instrumental in making our idea of tic conform more to the results of observation, nevertheless his view is not without its dangers.
In the opinion of Magnan and his pupils, Saury and Legrain[4]in particular, the tics do not form a morbid entity; they are nought else than episodic syndromes of what Morel called "hereditary insanity," that is to say, of what is usually designated nowadays "mental degeneration."
Now, if by degeneration be meant a more or less pronounced hereditary psychopathic or neuropathic tendency which betrays itself by actual physical or psychical stigmata, then tic patients are unquestionably degenerates. If degeneration unveils itself in multifarious psychical or physical anomalies, the subjects of the tic are undoubtedly degenerates. If a degenerate may suffer from one or other variety of aboulia, or phobia, or obsession, the man with tic is a degenerate too.
Thus understood, the epithet may be applied to all individuals affected with tic. In fact, theymustbe degenerates, if the word is to be employed in its most comprehensive sense. But the explanation is insufficient, inasmuch as the converse does not hold good; all degenerates do not tic.
We may be safe in maintaining, then, that tic is only one of the manifold expressions of mental degeneration, but we are not much enlightened thereby. Obsessions and manias similarly are indications of mental deterioration, yet the fact conveys very scanty informationas to their real nature. Physical anomalies—ectrodactyly, for instance—betoken physical degeneration, no doubt; but are inquiries to cease with this categorical assertion? Such certainly was not the idea of those observers whose is the praise for having demonstrated the common parentage of the heterogeneous manifestations of degeneration. Synthesis cannot exclude the work of analysis, and in practice there is scarcely a case to which this doctrine is not pertinent.
Every physical and every mental anomaly is the fruit of degeneration; every individual who is a departure from the normal is a degenerate, superior or inferior as the case may be. As instances of the latter we may specify the dwarf and the weak-willed; of the former, the giant and the exuberant. This sane and comprehensive conception of the subject must command universal acceptance as a synthetic dogma, but it cannot supplant the description and interpretation of individual facts. However legitimate be our representation of tic as a sign of degeneration, it is obviously inadequate if we rest content with styling its subject a degenerate.
Unfortunately the inclination too often is to be satisfied with the term, and to imagine that therewith discussion terminates. Still more unfortunately, in concentrating their attention on the mental aspect of the disease, some have altogether lost sight of one of its fundamental elements, viz. the motor reaction, and have conceived the possibility of its occurrence without anyticat all. Cruchet actually postulates the existence of an exclusively psychical tic, with no external manifestation.
To these questions, however, we shall return. The present introductory sketch is intended merely to demonstrate the ease with which ambiguity arises, and the desirability of its removal. We are fullyconscious of the value of the work of Magnan and his school in emphasising a phase of the subject the exposition of which can only result in gain.
The investigation of the motor phenomena of tic is no less encircled with perplexities. Not only are the troubles of motility boundless in their diversity and correspondingly difficult to classify, but they also bear so close a resemblance to a whole series of muscular affections that one is tempted to describe a special symptomatology for each individual case.
For several years there has been, more especially outside of France, a manifest tendency to aggregate all convulsions of ill-determined type into one great class, under the name "myoclonus"; and into this chaotic farrago, it is to be feared, will tumble a crowd of conditions which should be studiously differentiated: the tics, electric and fibrillary choreas, paramyoclonus multiplex, etc., etc.
In the present state of our knowledge, according to Raymond,[5]we must be guided by the lessons of clinical experience, which teach us, first, that the varying modalities of myoclonus develop from the parent stock of hereditary or acquired degeneration; and, secondly, that transitional forms which do not fall into any of the received categories are of common occurrence.
From a general point of view, the deductions are entirely reasonable. There is a suggestive analogy between these conditions and the muscular dystrophies in the persistence with which their multiplicity seems to defy the efforts of classification. The analytic stage witnessed the rapid evolution of such clinical types as the facial, the facio-scapulo-humeral, the juvenile, thepseudo-hypertrophic, not to mention others that bear the name of their observer; but it has been succeeded by the synthetic stage, whose function it is to incorporate all the former myopathies in the comprehensive group of "muscular dystrophy."
Yet here, again, peril lurks in too hasty a generalisation. To give the disease a name is not equivalent to pronouncing a diagnosis. The denominations "myoclonus," "muscular dystrophy," "degenerate," are alike inconvenient. Their scope is at once too inclusive and too exclusive. They may be indispensable; they are assuredly not sufficient.
The possibilities of misapprehension do not end here.
The manifestation of each and every tic—be it a flicker of the eyelid, a turn of the head, a cry, a cough—is through the medium of a muscular contraction. On the very nature of this contraction opinion is divided.
To its distinctive features of abruptness and momentariness is due the epithet "convulsive" habitually assigned it, but the qualification is not secure. Since the time of Willis the word convulsion has been employed in a double sense, to signifyclonicmuscular contractions (the "convulsion" of popular parlance) andtonicmuscular contractions (a meaning attached to the term only by the scientist).
For our part, we can raise no valid objection to the specification of tics as convulsive, provided always that the existence of clonic convulsive tics and of tonic convulsive tics be recognised. As a matter of fact, clinical observation supplies instances of both sorts.
Nevertheless, attention has been confined by a majority of authors to the consideration of the former variety only, so much so that a whole order of facts which in derivation, essence, and external characteristics ought to be identified with the tics has been passed over in silence. Even on the assumption that theproposal to recognise the two classes cannot be entertained, at the least it is advisable to predetermine the import of the word convulsion, and to speak ofclonicconvulsive tics. This is the formula of Ferrand and Widal in their article "Convulsion" in theEncyclopædic Dictionary of the Medical Sciences. Similarly, Troisier[6]says that the convulsive tic properly so called is characterised by clonic movements, in which opinion Erb and most German observers concur. Tonic tic appears to have been forgotten, and we have thought it our duty to resuscitate it.
Cruchet has quite recently approached the subject in a critical fashion:
To extend the term tic to tonic spasms such as mental torticollis, mental trismus, or permanent blepharospasm, is singularly to outstep the limits of its significance. We believe Erb, Troisier, and Oppenheim are warranted in restricting convulsive tic to clonic convulsions, and the consequent simplification and elucidation of the question lead us to adopt the same view.
To extend the term tic to tonic spasms such as mental torticollis, mental trismus, or permanent blepharospasm, is singularly to outstep the limits of its significance. We believe Erb, Troisier, and Oppenheim are warranted in restricting convulsive tic to clonic convulsions, and the consequent simplification and elucidation of the question lead us to adopt the same view.
If it be solely a matter of terminology, and if universal consent reserve tic for convulsions whose expression is clonic, we shall be the first to withdraw the phrase "tonic tic," making the single proviso that some other designation be found for a condition which differs from the clonic tic only in its external features, and not in origin, pathogeny, or treatment.
What is this other name to be? Are these tonic muscular contractions to be regarded as synonymous with contractures? If so, do we mean myotetanic contracture—to utilise the excellent division imagined by Pitres—as in hysteria, or myotonic contracture, as in Parkinson's disease? The state of muscular contraction in tonic tic does not correspond accuratelyto either, though it is certainly more akin to the myotonic form; but myotonia is a sort ofcaput mortuumfor the too facile classification of cases in reality difficult to place, and we are afraid the term is not calculated to ensure precision of ideas.
Should we be reproached with straining the primary meaning of the word tic by applying it to a contraction of a certain duration, we find ample justification ready at hand in the pages of Cruchet himself. "It was probably in 1656," he says, "thattiqueappeared in the French language, in the works of Jean Jourdin." Now, in the quaint description of the horse'stiquegiven by that writer, the signs of the disease are said to be cocking of the ears, rolling of the eyes, clenching and gnashing of the jaws, stiffening of the tail, nibbling at the bit, etc. What else are these than persistent contractions or tonic tics, alternating or co-existing with jerking movements or clonic tics?
We have no desire, of course, to over-estimate the argumentative value of this passage, the interest of which is mainly historical; but we find ourselves wholly in accord with Cruchet when he remarks of the scientific distinction formulated by Willis, and again by Michael Etmüller, between continuous, permanent tonic convulsions, and intermittent, momentary clonic convulsions, that it is uninvolved, practical, and of universal applicability.
In 1768 certain tics were classified among the tonic convulsions by Boissier de Sauvages. Marshal Hall[7]gave an account of various tonic facial convulsions to which Valleix refers as non-dolorous tics or idiopathic convulsions of the face. Coming nearer to our own times, we find the distinction of which we have beenspeaking again elaborated by Jaccoud,[8]in 1870, and accepted also by Rosenthal.
Doubtless physiologists and pathologists are not invariably at one as regards the proper characters of the two, and subdivisions into continuous tonic contractions as opposed to intermittent tonic contractions have been deemed necessary; but without burdening the subject with a plethora of detail, we think it simple, suggestive, and clinically satisfactory to uphold Willis's generalisations and to enlist their help in the exposition of the tics. Hence, unless under special circumstances, we consider recourse to the epithet "convulsive" superfluous, and we shall employ the word tic by itself, except when there may be occasion to indicate the form of muscular contraction. The gain in conciseness is not likely to be neutralised by any loss of precision.
From our rapid survey of the vicissitudes through which the tic has passed, we may profitably gather one or two lessons.
In so far as is compatible with its nature, the schematisation of tic is indispensable. The inevitable variability of the personal factor and the absence of a real breach of continuity between any two essentially differing morbid affections ought not to deter us from the attempt to project a line of demarcation between them. Natural science is pledged to the labour of differentiation. It is the glory of Charcot's alternately synthetic and analytic work to have demonstrated the value of this method in the sphere of neuropathology. At the same time, the wisdom of attaching only a provisional importance to any scheme and of welcoming possible modification is of course self-evident. Inexact and undiscriminating inference may be a stumbling-block in the path of progress and inimical to thecultivation of the faculty of observation. Further, inaccuracy of definition not only exaggerates the liability to misunderstanding, but has sometimes also the disadvantage of promoting an illusory belief in the possession of the truth.
Our study of tic can be approached only after a preliminary understanding as to the meaning of two words too frequently confounded even in scientific literature—ticandspasm. Let us explain, then, once for all, exactly what we intend by the latter.
Etymologically (σπασμὁς, σπἁω, I draw) the word signifies a twitch, but as it is unfortunately considered a synonym for convulsion, the two expressions are used indifferently in medical parlance, though the desirability of restricting the application of the former has more than once been indicated. Littré's definition—"an involuntary contraction of muscles, more particularly of those not under voluntary control"—may appear somewhat idle, as the contraction of muscles not under the influence of the will can scarcely be other than involuntary. His intention was, no doubt, to reserve spasm for convulsive phenomena in non-striped muscle fibres; but in this limited sense the term has not met with acceptance, and it remains equivalent to "involuntary muscular contraction," whatever that may mean. Thus interpreted, it is applicable to any and every involuntary muscular movement, physiological and pathological, to the inco-ordination of tabes, to chorea, athetosis, tremor, etc.
Rather than imagine a new substantive to characterisecertain of these muscle contractions, we may retain the word in a somewhat wider though equally precise sense, and follow the distinction drawn by Brissaud[9]in 1893: "a spasm is the result of sudden transitory irritation of any point in a reflex arc; ... it is a reflex act of purely spinal or bulbo-spinal origin."
By definition, then,a spasm is the motor reaction consequent on stimulation of some point in a reflex spinal or bulbo-spinal arc. To differentiate between the reflex, which is physiological, and the spasm, which is pathological, we may add as a corollary:the irritation provocative of the spasm is itself of pathological origin, and no spasm can occur without it. The anatomo-pathological substratum of a spasm is, then, some focus of irritation on a spinal or bulbo-spinal reflex arc, which may be situated in peripheral end organ, in centripetal path, in medullary centre, or in centrifugal fibre. Whatever be its localisation, it will determine a spasm in our sense of the word.
Cortical or subcortical excitation, however, as well as peripheral stimuli, may provoke these bulbar and spinal centres to activity. Irritation of a point on the rolandic cortex, or on the cortico-spinal centripetal paths, is followed by a motor reaction exactly as with afferent impulses; the sole change is in the route taken by the centripetal stimulus; the reflex centre remains bulbo-spinal, and the efferent limb of the arc is as before.
The application of the word spasm to these motor responses to cortical or subcortical stimulation is quite justifiable. Developmentally the grey matter of the cerebral convolutions is ectodermic, as is the skin, and capable of functioning as a sensory surface; it may be considered the end organ of an afferent path thatconducts to medullary reflex centres. According to our definition, then, provided the centre of the reflex arc be bulbo-spinal and the irritation pathological, the consequent motor phenomenon is a spasm.
A distinction most nevertheless be drawn between the two cases, inasmuch as in the one the afferent path is peripheral, in the other it is cortico-spinal, and there is a corresponding difference in the clinical picture. Jacksonian convulsions, consecutive to cortical stimulation, do not seem to bear much resemblance to spasmodic movements indicative of peripheral—i.e.sensory nerve—irritation. As a matter of fact, it is not always easy to differentiate the two, except by the aid of concomitant phenomena. The characteristic evolution of the Jacksonian convulsion is of course readily recognisable. We can similarly diagnose an irritative lesion of the internal capsule not so much from the objective features of the convulsive movements as from accompanying indications. In short, there need never be any occasion for confusion. Convulsive conditions attributable to irritation of cortico-spinal centripetal paths have long been described and analysed: they constitute well-recognised morbid entities, among which may be enumerated Jacksonian epilepsy, hemichorea, hemiathetosis, pre-and post-hemiplegic hemitremor, etc.
These clinical denominations for the affections under consideration it is at present desirable to retain. We shall not call them spasms; above all, we must not call them tics, else we shall end by confounding conditions absolutely distinct. The case recorded by Lewin,[10]under the title of "convulsive tic," of a three-year-old infant still unable to walk, who has daily attacks in which "all the muscles" twitch for about a minute at a time, is indeed a most singular tic. We wereunder the impression that such an attack is usually known as an epileptiform convulsion. Is the term "convulsive tic" quite a happy synonym?
Again, in the recent thesis of Cruchet the attempt has been made to base the pathological physiology of tic on researches of von Monakow and Muratow apropos of the occurrence of choreic, epileptoid, or athetotic movements after certain lesions of the cerebro-spinal axis, and to find an analogy in the action of various convulsion-producing substances (Richet and Langlois). Cruchet's conclusion is that convulsive tic is as often cortical or subcortical as spinal in origin; that it is, in short, a mere symptom, common to many cerebro-spinal conditions.
The same regrettable confusion is discernible in various treatises on neuropathology the work of German and other foreign authors.
As far as we are concerned, the outcome of the whole matter is simply this: if tic is doomed to be used indifferently for convulsion, its retention in scientific terminology is unjustifiable. Rather, then, than widen its application, we prefer to restrict it; we shall employ the term convulsion in its most general sense of "any anomaly due to excess of muscular contraction," of whatever variety or origin; and we shall limit the use of the word spasm to phenomena the result of irritation at any point on afferent or efferent reflex paths, or in reflex bulbo-spinal centres.
In thus indicating our position, we find ourselves once more in accord with generally received opinion since the days of Charcot. These views have been excellently expressed by Guinon: