When something traumatic occurs in my life, traditionally, I
have been taught to allow my feelings to surface – not to shove them down,
avoid them or to medicate myself. This will only compound the problem. When the physical body needs attention, so do
the mental, emotional and spiritual bodies.
We work with them – we do not numb them.
As someone trained in areas of traditional and non-traditional
health care, I am educated in techniques that help support this process. I also
have access to health professionals who live by similar ethics and I am
comfortable asking for their help when I need it. They believe, as I do, providing
support that is culturally safe for patients is an important component within
any treatment. Bringing traditional and
non-traditional modalities together can be quite complimentary if applied
responsibly and with respect to all parties involved.
On this journey I have had to deal with a number of surprises. Most recently, the news on the extensive damage
caused to my liver due to HCV. To me it makes perfect sense to look at this in
a pro-active manner and ask some pertinent questions:
What is the probable
prognosis for someone with my lab results, medical history and has been in stage
4 - cirrhosis for as many years as I have?
Over the past 5 years,
what stresses have I allowed to influence my life and what am I willing to do
in order to remove the damaging stresses?
What do I need to do
to keep my body clean of impurities and support my liver and spleen in the best
way possible?
What behavioral
changes am I willing to make?
What do I want to do
with the rest of my life that will bring me joy, purpose, and fulfillment?
I realize no one can give any of us a guaranteed time - line. After all, it is only written in stone after
the fact. But for this patient I would
like to know roughly what my prognosis
is. The answer to this question will
influence the outcome to some of the other questions I have. I do not consider this
to be unreasonable or a sign that I am in a state of depression. Simply put -
it is information that I am ready to hear.
So folks, due to the new diagnosis - I went out on a limb
and asked the big question…what is my prognosis? Along with a conversation that I found to
be patronizing - I was offered anti-depressants for the duration of the treatment
so I can sleep through some of the symptoms I am experiencing. I turned this offer down. The question I asked was not addressed.
I believe we look at the world through our own unique lenses. We maneuver our way over, around and through life’s hurdles
differently for a number of reasons – one being we are a culturally diverse
people. This is a good thing. Creation
loves variety. The teachings, values and principals of those who have influenced
us have helped shape us and because of this, we do not all fit into the same
mold.
What I experienced this week in the health-care professional’s
office was not culturally supportive. It was as if we were two people looking into the same
room through completely different lenses. I realize it isn’t a matter of right
or wrong…it was an opportunity missed for both of us to learn something of importance. Instead, communication
failed.
There are medical conditions that require anti-depressants
to be prescribed in order for patients to be able to live a functional life. I also understand the published data on trials
related to this treatment list depression and suicidal thoughts and tendencies as
possible symptoms while on this treatment – not probable.
I say this with the utmost respect to the health-care
professionals out there – please, do not assume someone is depressed or in need
of anti-depressants because it appears their methods are unconventional to your
academic and practical training.
If there comes a time when a patient trusts you enough to ask
a question that appears to have some significance to them, I hope you will listen equally with your heart as you do with your intellectual expertise. One never knows what opportunities can come when we look at something with an open heart and an open mind.
Until next time,
Deborah