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Mental Health Gets My Vote!

August 18th, 2010

Election Day Countdown: ‘Mental Health Gets My Vote’; Voting Rights of People with Mental Illness are Protected

“Election Day is less than three months away,” said NAMI Executive Director Michael J. Fitzpatrick. “Elections this year at every level are critical ones for mental health. Strong, non-partisan dialogue is urgent.

“State budget crises across the country have led to massive cuts in mental health services that have put lives at risk. At the national level, congressional actions also affect hopes for recovery.

“Everything from Medicaid to the nation’s economic crisis to recovery from the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico involves mental health concerns,” Fitzpatrick said.

“Americans concerned with unemployment, for example, need to recognize that unemployed persons are four times as likely to report symptoms of mental illness. This is no time to cut mental health.”

Check out the entire post here from PR Newswire and remember to vote!

An Open Letter to Miriam

October 14th, 2009

Dear Miriam-

You are really starting to slack.  You seem to have completely forgotten that to get anything done you have to do anything.  Even though that is almost exactly the advice you gave your dear friend not more than a week or two ago.  Saying you are slacking is too harsh because you are more like a headless chicken.  That makes you blind, deaf, and aimless if not running directly into walls.  You are neglecting things that need tending.  You are tunnel-visioning into, well, tunnels.

Miriam- you have some serious relationships that have been affected by your mental and physical illnesses for years and the cracks are showing.  You better start an account at Home Depot because you have to do something to mend those zig-zagging, criss-crossing cracks and laughing and putting off conversations isn’t going to work forever.  You need to remember that you do have a few friends that you adore and can count on more than you let yourself think.  Start seeking them out instead of hiding from them.  You would give them the (always stained but moving towards more fashionable) shirt off your back so let yourself see what they are wearing.  A little stretching and they might have some shirts you can borrow too.

Stop pretending that the world comes to a standstill while the housework or kiddo craft waits to get finished.  There will never be enough time- you know that.  Miriam, be honest with yourself- if you keep waiting to really dive back into your work until you have the perfect tranquil but energizing space transformed out of your little sun room turned storage locker and all the corners of the house swept it might wait forever.  Do you want to wait forever?  As the song goes: “That’s a mighty long time.”  I have forgotten which song.  Sorry about that but be realistic- can your inner self be expected to do all the work?  Try looking things up or maybe ditching the old music for something they play on radios without ads like “we play all the music you love from all the years you remember most!”

So get cracking, devote a bit of time to making a room of your own and a little time to grocery lists and tub scrubbing but then move on.  Focus and then focus on DOING.  Seriously.  You need to try it.  You need to try harder.  Focus on your work, focus on the kids, focus on the best way to treat your pain.  For god’s sake, focus on the people you love who love you back.  But Miriam, you are 32 and can not just wish that life would straighten itself out because you made a really good list that day.  You get credit for kicking ass in the whole “working on getting better” thing, but you are quickly losing ground outside the health care realm.  You do not live in a doctor’s office.  You are not a professional patient.  When people say they are taking a “mental health day” it is so they can take a break and get away from their troubles.  Your version of a mental health day seems to be to head straight into the depths of crazy and sick and hope there isn’t a storm.

Miriam, if this were a letter to the editor I would probably offer a proposal for a change in zoning regulations or an explanation of why we shouldn’t trust “those” people.  But it isn’t.  Although… zoning regulations and reevaluations of relationships is kind of spot on. This is an open letter that I am hoping will show you and the readers who are out there (right?) that sometimes you need to step back and take a different perspective on things.  Give yourself a good talking to.  Every therapist I have ever seen has said at some point “what would you tell your best friend if they were in this situation?” or something similar.  I am not my best friend but I do need to tell myself what to do from a more disciplined place more often.  Easy right?  Hence the “open” part of the letter.  Accountability.

So in closing please remember that you do not have to be super-writer, super-mommy, super-wife, super-homemaker, super-business-re-starter, super-finance-manager or super-crazy-sick-person all the time.  Pick a hat (although I hate that expression) and wear it for 20 minutes, an hour, a week- whatever you can take and feels reasonable.  Focus on it as best you can and then move the hell on.  Give yourself permission to break away, give-up for a spell and let go to give yourself space.  In the simplest of words: Miriam- you must do this to keep functioning because we all know what happens when “super” becomes the norm.  It doesn’t work and you fall fast and hard.  So read this letter, hope that it makes sense and hope that you can make some sense of the world.  Not figuring out the whole world right now on demand, just make some sense as best you can.

Feel free to address any comments to both the author and the addressee.

Sincerely, The Inside of Miriam’s Brain

On Mental Illness and Stigma in Medicine

April 18th, 2009

From mysadalterego

Today I saw a patient for a pre-operative evaluation. This is a consultation for a patient that needs surgery, but who has other medical problems that make the surgeon nervous, and the surgeon basically wants someone like me to sign that I evaluated the person so that I can be blamed if something goes wrong. At least that’s my semi-cynical version of it. My fully-cynical version of it is that surgeons make relatively little money seeing a patient in clinic (though a lot more than a family doc or internist does), and they don’t want to waste time evaluating a patient when they could be operating and billing for the real benjamins.

Of course, I’m messing with the details of the story, but it went something like this: this woman was elderly, but under 80, and had the usual medical problems that go with that age, but not more – mild diabetes, mild high blood pressure, a few other things like that, but no history of smoking, no lung disease and no significant heart disease.

I think that over time I’ve collected a few doctor readers, so I’ll add this list of meds, more or less: some vitamins, a beta blocker, metformin, maybe there was an ACE inhibitor in there, can’t remember, a statin, a laxative, a bisphosphonate and some ranitidine, and a few other drugs, which I will get to in a minute.

She also had a recently discovered cancer, which was the occasion for the operation. The operation is a large one, but not “heroic” or the kind of thing they call people to come sit in the balcony to observe. It’s not a Whipple or anything close, but it’s not a lumpectomy either. It probably will not lead to a cure, but will almost certainly lengthen her life considerably, and will definitely prevent at least some of the uglier complications in the future. It is the standard of care.

Now, the rub: one of her diagnoses was “Depression.” No further explanation. In addition to the above, she also receives lithium at a healthy dose as well as paroxetine. This was the first time I saw her and she is an immigrant who does not speak any language I speak, so we had to speak through her son translating. But she was perfectly pleasant, totally coherent (able to give full medical and surgical history since childhood) as far as I could tell without speaking her language. To my shame, I didn’t ask what her profession had been. (I just didn’t think to while trying to sort out a complicated medical history.) I had never seen her before, and she came with almost no written medical information other than the recent imaging and investigations that were directly related to this cancer. I have no idea how her depression presented, why lithium was added, how long she had been stable or ill, or anything about that particular illness other than what I saw. To be fair, I also had no information about the history and control of her diabetes or blood pressure, though all three issues were controlled during my examination – blood pressure was good, sugars fine as well as HBA1C.

And then this: among all of her documents, I come across a paper that is a statement by a consultant psychiatrist that she is competent and able to both consent to and undergo the operation.

The surgeon and anesthesiologist had both refused to treat her without this evaluation. The surgeon’s referral put the demand for a full psychiatric evaluation (at the family’s expense) above cardiac, geriatric, oncologic, or functional evaluation, and refused to proceed or even make a tentative statement on her suitability for operation without this.

The surgeon, for that matter, does not speak her language either. But I assume he saw a similar patient to the one I did, as he had seen her less than 3 weeks before.

Just the fact that she came in taking certain medications, with a psychiatric diagnosis, one that, for that matter, has no bearing on her ability to decide how to live her life or to comprehend information, could have caused life-prolonging, standard-of-care treatment for cancer to have been withheld, to have been considered “inappropriate” or “unnecessary” or “unsuitable.”

In her case, fortunately, the psychiatrist did not write a full three page summary of her personal flaws (as I have seen sometimes in these types of evaluations), but rather summed it up with a line something like, “Patient understands implications of illness and treatment options and is competent to make any and all judgments blah blah blah.” But how many of these cases never make it that far? How many times, when surgery is an option, do surgeons see a diagnosis like that, or a drug like lithium and decide that the patient simply isn’t a candidate for surgery, or decide not to present all of the options?

I also wonder, if it had been an older man with “depression,” whether he would have been put through this humiliating evaluation, or whether only hysterical women need to be qualified as competent. Or if it had only been the paroxetine and not the lithium? What was it that pushed her into questionable incompetence? Does the referring doctor understand the implications of demanding an evaluation like that – that they are essentially calling into question a person’s sovereignty over their own body? I am hard-pressed to think of any kind of mental disability, including those conditions that include intellectual disability, in which a person cannot be presented with options in a manner fitting their understanding.

I don’t know whether to be angry, or to want to cry, or what. But I think mostly I’m afraid that someday I will be that little old lady with an ugly diagnosis on my chart, whose life is seen as only questionably worth saving.

Previously published here.