Depressed? No. Coping. Yes. | Video

My hospital stay lasted 17 days.  I didn't even
realize, given the state I was in, that it was as
many as that.

It was a difficult time for many reasons, and
for several days I was significantly drugged
by something.  I don't even know what.

I tell you this because of the experience I had
in the hospital.  At some point one of the staff
told me that there was conversation around
the water cooler (not really, but it sounded
good) that I was depressed.

The group of staff that were working on my
"case" would meet every morning to discuss
me.  Apparently they were coming to the
conclusion that I was a depressed patient.

When I spoke with this person I suggested
that how I was being had much to do with
my circumstances.  Within a relatively short
period of time I was diagnosed, had surgery,
and was now left to heal mentally, physically,
and emotionally in a hospital bed.

I also suggested that how I was often is quiet
and introspective.  It was also a quasi conscious
choice on my part at some point to be quiet.  I
thought it would be too easy to get distracted
by other things.  Maybe this was a time to
focus on ME.

We spoke at length, and then later that day
someone else from the "group" came by and
said something about the depression as well.
Another long conversation followed.  A part
of me wasn't happy to go over it again, but
since it was in the same day, I decided I
couldn't be that upset.

At some point a day, or a few days, later,
I get word that on on-call doctor from the
night shift that I only met one time to discuss
some medication he wanted to give me (that
resulted in me getting an incredible rash
needlessly, btw, since I didn't need it) decided
to ask for a psych consult for me.

Needless to say, I wasn't a happy camper.
Dang it!  I wasn't depressed.  I was coping.
I was also hospital "doping."  I didn't really
think about the drug part to later.  But I realized
at some point when I came out of the fog and
started to be myself more, my body didn't
feel the same and I probably even had less
"depressed" body language.

It also didn't help that I didn't have the blinds
open most days.  The fact is, though, that I
love the dark.  There is something about it
that works for me.  Often I will work with
a bare minimum of light.  Come to where I
live, and you would see/know that.

I also was discombobulated in that two of
my coping mechanisms weren't available
to me:  sleeping and eating.  I could barely
eat at one point, and sleeping was often
interrupted by bells, whistles, needle stickings,
blood pressure readings, pokes, and mental
pries.

Just how happy would anyone be in a
situation like that alone, without having
had major, life altering surgery with a
diagnosis of cancer???

Apparently in the scheme of things this
didn't seem to occur to those who were
so ready to put me in the "depressed" box.

A doctor at one point discussed this entire
situation with me, and didn't quite understand
how I felt/why I felt that way.  I explained to
him that part of it was the labeling, and part
of it was that somehow the conversations
I was having, and the insight I was offering
wasn't seeming to get through.

Plus...it was a "psych" consult.  What if s/he
wanted to give me a medicine for my
"depression?"  Would I have had a choice?
It also all was in my hospital records, as
well.  What implications were there in that?

I share this with you in part because I have
been wanting to write this entry for a while,
and in part because I saw the video below
today.  There were things that Jon said I
think speak to my experience.  It also
speaks, I think, to the difficulty professionals
may have in their assessments.  What if I
was depressed, after all?

My suggestion to them was to LISTEN and
ASK ME what I think.  Part of my problem
was that they didn't seem to do either.

If you have the time, check out Jon's talk,
and have a great night.