Gold Coast Bulletin reveals inside look at clinical trials for COVID-19 treatment

For many it’s a mysterious world - now a Gold Coast Bulletin reporter turned guinea pig can reveal just what it’s like inside clinical trials for COVID-19 treatment.

I’M not a doctor, health worker and certainly not an immunologist – so when the COVID-19 pandemic hit, I was at a loss of how to help.

That was until I saw a call out for clinical trial subjects for a COVID-19 treatment.

No skills or smarts required, just an average body – hell, I certainly had one of those.

One of dozens of trials underway to build up our medical munitions in the war against coronavirus, the test drug was a medication found to relieve the symptoms of those already infected with the virus.

Kirstin Payne AKA COVID-19 guinea pig.

Waiting for entry into the COVID-19 treatment clinical trial.

Already in use for parasitic infections, like tapeworm, the drug manufactured by a Korean Pharmaceutical company had been converted from a tablet into a new injectable form.

However, before use by the wider population the injectable needed to be approved for use by the Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA), as it had not yet been used on humans or approved anywhere in the world.

FULL DIGITAL ACCESS: JUST $1 A WEEK FOR FIRST 12 WEEKS

My job as a healthy guinea pig was to help researchers determine what a correct dose of the drug might be, and allow those studying it to measure the drugs levels in my blood over time. Easy.

Each round or cohort of testing involves eight participants, who stay as an inpatient under the observation of doctors for four nights and then return for seven follow-up visits.

For each cohort the level of the dosage is increased.

Inside the clinical trial ward.

The first day inside the COVID-19 clinical trial.

I was to be in the second cohort, a happy medium I figured. Not the first one to test the drug, but not the highest dosage either. What more could a girl want?

We would also be compensated for our time, $100 for the initial screening and each follow-up visit, and a daily rate of $360 for the in-clinic stay.

Once passing the initial screening phase, to rule out any drug use, smoking or medical complications, I packed my bags to stay at the study ward in Brisbane.

I’ve heard of selling your body, and donating your body, but for the next four days mine was a loaner.

Subjects are asked to eat in the recreation room, we were unable to return to our bed with food., Only two snacks were allowed a day.

They say behind every rule there is a story, well I am fairly certain there were a few behind the inpatient rules at the clinic.

For subjects like myself some of the stranger rules included:

● No providing urine samples for other participants.

● In bed by no later than 12.30pm.

● No ordering in food.

● No saving food for later.

● Eat the exact amount of food prepared for you.

● No sharing or swapping of beds and more.

● No porn.

Intimacy with other participants, staff members and visitors was prohibited.

Within the first hour of my arrival at the clinic I knew more about the bladders of my fellow guinea pigs than I did about them.

Each one of us asked to produce a cup full of fresh urine, only to return to the shared room to place it in front of our numbered bed for all to see.

Being the competitive individual I am, I admit I was pleased my hydration was in the top three of those present.

Our bags were also checked on arrival as per the consent form to ensure no vitamins, drugs or alcohol, including mouthwash, had been smuggled in, putting the test in jeopardy.

My Wrigley gum was confiscated.

Inside the clinical trail ward.

The dorms can be described as a combination of a hospital ward and backpacker hostel.

Everyone is young, friendly but you don’t want to be caught dead without thongs in the shower.

Ten beds were lined up facing one another with only hospital curtains separating us.

An office with a glass window made up the far wall so doctors and nurses could monitor the group at all times.

The 3x4 metre space was to be my home for the next few days.

Almost all participants were university students hoping to make extra cash while they studied, except for one teenager in bed six who decided to spend her schoolies in the trial. Kids these days.

The novelty of it all soon wore off. It was just Netflix and sitting propped up in bed looking at a stranger.

We would spend the next 12 hours waiting before the dose to ensure our blood work was correct and to rule out any variables in our diet.

The monotony was broken every so often as those in other clinical trials received doses, or had injection sites checked or blood taken.

As a female I was treated to at least three pregnancy tests during my time there – triple confirmed, all clear.

Dinner is served in the COVID-19 treatment clnical trial ward

The centre facilitates about 40 studies annually for anything from vaccines to skin studies.

Dinner was a beef roast with the option of a snack.

We could have a limit of two snacks per day, but only at meal times.

The choice was between a muffin, cheese and crackers or fruit of the day. I felt for those down the hall who had been part of a 12-day study.

After a restless night we were woken early by nurses to have a cannula inserted to ensure easy access to our blood in the coming days.

It was dosing day after all, and the injection of the trial drug came with more pomp and ceremony than expected.

Instead of the quick jab and repeat, each participant was swarmed by doctors one at a time as their consent was again sought.

The participant was talked through the process, had their vitals taken, again. Finally, a doctor adorned in a bright red sash that read “dosing do not disturb” would do the injection.

The whole process took about 30 minutes for each individual.

I was last on the list, waiting patiently as they did the rounds to each bed before my turn.

It was about 10am when my time finally came. I was more excited than nervous.

I’d given up chocolate for a whole 24-hour period by now. I was pretty much all in anyway.

It was at that point I was told I was free to go.

Dining room: Subjects were given food in the dining room by nurses, foor was given out through the small kitchen window.

Bathrooms in the clinical trial ward.

A surplus of the test I had inadvertently drawn the short straw as the last in the row and served as the alternate.

An extra participant only to be used if one of the first participants pulled out or was unable to be dosed that morning.

Those selected as alternates are given the option to be a participant in the next round and the trial is likely to finish in February this year.

Still recovering from my rejection I’m able to appreciate the time hundreds of others have given to get Australia to where it is today, as we get ready to begin our national vaccination rollout.

That was it. My attempted contribution to medical advancement was over, for this round at least.

I tried, I truly did. But it turns out my body can’t even be used for science.

Originally published as Gold Coast Bulletin reveals inside look at clinical trials for COVID-19 treatment