Why Breast Cancer Is Better than
Depression
The day, after my first chemotherapy
treatment, I had an epiphany and was overcome with relief. I was going to be sick and not feel ashamed. Tears filled
my eyes as I realized how different this was going to be from what happened
eight years earlier when I developed a major clinical depression. Then I was
very sick and deeply ashamed.
The awareness that having breast cancer
is a better experience than having depression occurred to me before all my
treatments were even completed. I thought to myself, could I possibly be
rushing to a conclusion. I wondered, what would people think about my
preference for cancer over depression? It
sounded a little bizarre even to me.
Regardless of how it sounds, there
actually are a few truths about the two experiences that are undeniable.
There are truly 7 quite simple truths:
I will not suffer in silence and alone with breast cancer. People have been eager to help me at every turn. I have
many offers for cooking meals, driving, management of home affairs etc…There
are dozens of others who have been down this road and are willing to help me
again and again. It has been wonderful to have their guidance and support. When
I suffered from depression, I felt more alone and confused than I ever had
before. My boyfriend at the time knew I was suffering and he himself was in
therapy for low mood and depression, but could not offer me support and
guidance as he was very functional and could not relate to my situation. When I
was sick with depression, I spent every day hoping that the next morning I
would wake up and be myself again. I had
no idea what I needed to do to get well. I had been to my family doctor but he
never suggested a specialist and only could offer me medication. I was lost. I could not function. I got behind in paying my bills because I
couldn’t think straight enough to organize my papers and write checks. Every
day routine things were a hardship. There was little understanding from others
until I got desperate and was on the verge of quitting. I was involved with a
weight loss support group and they could see that I was going down, but could
only offer encouraging words. There was
no clear guidance available to my friends, my family and me as to exactly how
to help me.
I will not feel ashamed about having breast cancer. Being so sick with
anxiety and depression was a foreign experience for me because I was, in general, a happy person. Most people viewed me as strong and quite capable, which I was.
But still, I just happen to have worried myself sick when there were concerns
about my daughter’s behavior in high school.
At first when I was depressed and later when I survived a suicide
attempt, I believed that I had let down my loved ones. Well-meaning friends
told me never to do that to them again, as if my sickness was an option for me.
No one understood what had happened to me and I felt judged. While I was sick, I feared that I might never
be myself again. I had become trapped
inside a very sick body as I experienced “leaden paralyzes”, insomnia,
difficulty swallowing and wanted to free myself from the body that had come to
imprison me. There was no tangible relief in sight. I no longer could recognize myself. I was flat in my speech and presentation. I had become so small inside, I could barely
find me anymore, and every day I was stuck dragging around this already dead weight
called my body. What made my shame feel even worse; I was forced to appear in
court because I had tried to end my life.
I had misused prescription medication for other than it was intended and
I was being prosecuted. With Breast Cancer, I will never be
given a summons because I am sick.
My cancer will not threaten my professional occupation as my ability to perform my duties will not be
questioned. Depression lives in the
brain. It is only natural to wonder if I
would be well enough to perform my duties adequately. However, given that I
attempted suicide, I was advised not to tell my employer as it would reflect
poorly on my record and leave me vulnerable to potentially losing my job. I had
to keep it a secret. I returned to work and did not talk about the cause for my
sudden absence until many years later. With a cancer diagnosis, there is no
need to keep my health status private or a secret. It has already been
established at work that this is a non-issue. I have been reassured that I can
take off as much time as I need to deal with the cancer treatments and the
process of healing. My fellow colleagues and co-workers have been very
understanding and have provided me with flexibility and ongoing concern in
supporting my continuing to work while receiving the variety of cancer
treatments required.
Many reputable and nationally known health care providers and
institutions are eagerly seeking me as a breast cancer customer. There are many highly respected care centers and physicians
eager to secure my business and encouraging me to come to them for help. Also,
there are routine screenings annually for breast cancer. When I had depression, once my family learned
how sick I was, finding resources and hospitals to help me were nearly impossible.
My family had to do some extensive research to learn where to take me for help
and still did not get the right guidance.
After receiving medical clearance and was well enough to go to a
psychiatric facility, my family could not figure out which one was best. There
were no commercials on television or radio spots announcing that they were the
best place for helping patients after a suicide attempt. The first institution once had a good
reputation. However, it turned out to be horrible as it had declined in recent
years. And the better one was poorly managed and ill equipped to truly help me.
I later learned that inpatient psychiatric care is really only designed to keep
someone under surveillance long enough to keep them from hurting themselves or
harming someone else and not a place for “true” therapy and treatment. Before
my attempt, my sister made many phone calls before she found a competent
psychiatrist who had availability to see me.
None would take insurance and the first visit was $225 back in
2007. The psychiatrist turned out to be
mediocre in my opinion because she did not fully screen for suicide risk. I did
not complete any questionnaire for that purpose nor did she ask me if I had
considered it as an option. I did tell her I was trying not to harm myself
but even that statement did not trigger further investigation as to my risk for
an attempt.
My family physician truly did not know
how to help me either. He did start me on an antidepressant but I never could
stay on it long enough to make me feel any better. Maybe if he was better trained, he would have
recognized that I was struggling more with anxiety than depression since I
came in there saying I was not sleeping through the night anymore and I was
worried. I believe if I had
known to ask for anxiety medication or if he had used screening
tools for depression and anxiety, I would not have gotten
so horribly sick. As a family doctor, he did not know enough to refer me to a
specialist or a crisis unit for a more thorough evaluation. None
of these experiences could ever happen with cancer. Cancer
screenings and referrals are routine, not so with mental health.
There is solid science and good public information about
breast cancer. There are public
service announcements, newspaper articles, and television programs, all warning
people about various cancer threats. Not
so with mood disorders. Family doctors
often do not have clear guidance for diagnosing and treating mood disorders. They
get most of their information from drug representatives. The science behind
many of the medications is not well understood. There are not enough highly
skilled psychiatrists and therapists aggressively
treating depression and other mental illnesses. For example, most doctors don’t
understand that there are serious consequences for worrying. No one ever told
me I could worry myself sick. I knew I
was having trouble sleeping because I was worried. In my lifetime, I
received no warnings letting me know I was engaging in dangerous and risky
behavior that could make me disabled. I never suspected that compulsively
thinking about something which we commonly call worry, could lead me to a
breakdown. I had been warned not to go with a stranger, not to smoke, never to
drink and drive, not to walk alone at night- all these activities could result
in danger to me. I did not know that
worry could result in danger to me in that stress hormones and chemicals would
be released, flood my body and render me dysfunctional.
My pain and suffering with breast cancer is intermittent. My pain, immobility, agony and suffering with clinical
depression were constant. There was no real reprieve from the disability
from my depression. Never once did I get to feel like myself the entire time I
was sick. When I was depressed, I was
much more helpless and impaired and could not manage day to day tasks very well
at all, than this type and stage of cancer is for me. My physical discomfort
and even my emotional suffering with knowing my health is at risk, comes and
goes. My sadness fluctuates appropriately. With depression, every moment awake
took an effort to be alive. I was stuck in the heaviness and could not break free.
The survival rate is better for cancer than clinical
depression
About 40,450 women
in the U.S died in 2015 from breast cancer*, though death rates have been
decreasing since 1989. Women under 50 have experienced larger decreases. These
decreases are thought to be the result of treatment advances, earlier detection
through screening, and increased awareness. Contrast these survival rates with
those for mental illness. 90% of all people who die by suicide have a
diagnosable mental illness prior to their death. In 2014, there were 42,773
suicide deaths.
After 4 courses of chemotherapy, (the first concoction I was
allergic to and the 2nd one made me extremely sick requiring a
course of antibiotics) and 35 radiation treatments with the last 10 directed
only at the surgical site, which is called a ‘boost”, I am concluding that my
cancer experience was less disturbing to me than my depression experience.
Although I was physically weary quite often; some pain at times, almost daily
had an upset stomach and frequently struggled to do everyday tasks, I never lost
my sense of humor or my ability to spend good-natured time with my family or
friends. I was capable of making decisions regarding my health care because I
could absorb the information provided and often was motivated to research more.
I was never physically immobile or unable to sleep. Everyone who knew me
understood what was going on and what to expect. My co-workers were respectful and considerate
of my needs. With cancer, I knew I was going to be well again. Yes. Breast Cancer
is a better experience than Major Clinical Depression.
