Not my story

Last week I spoke to someone who was telling me about some problems a relative was having. This relative was dealing with a cancer diagnosis, and then was hit by the death of a close friend. This threw them into a deep depression. I’ve been trying to put myself into that dark place and wondering if I was in that position what my family and friends would be able to do to help me.

So I picture myself in such a sad and depressed state that I can’t get out of bed. I lay in my bed all day just sleeping and crying, not eating, not reading, not playing with my kitten. I think the only acceptable thing that I would be able to tolerate is if my family took turns curling up in bed with me. Not trying to cheer me up, not trying to push me through it, just being there. I also think this would be a great time to be pushing some heavy duty meds on me. I think you need that when you are in a pit that deep and dark. Maybe it’s not enough to bring you completely back but it will be a little bit of light for you to see the ladder out. I think I would also appreciate light and smells. Fresh flowers in my room, and foods that I love cooking so I can smell them.

Can you picture yourself in the spot?

Not much going on.  I’m feeling very very cold and sleepy. My hands are always like ice now. I think it’s going to be a long winter. I have a space heater on my desk at work. I think I’ll just start carrying on with me room to room at home.

My last scheduled chemo round is this week. Then the big CT to see what we do next. No pressure chemo drugs – but now’s your chance to show what you can do.

Tomorrow is Veterans Day and I will be going at lunch to a Veterans Day ceremony and passing out flags on behalf of the National Exchange club. Looking forward to that!



4 thoughts on “Not my story

  1. Do you find these thoughts helpful or necessary to get where you need to be? I hope that question makes sense? I agree with having family “people” just being with you…not fixing anything…just being. When my friend Brett was in his last stages of Lymphoma several years ago, I hold dear the night he was packed in ice to bring down his high fever…he was sitting in a wheel chair – it was the end of basketball season in late March – I sat on the sofa in the room and we just were. If he needed something, I knew and would help adjust him but we just were. I didn’t care about the bb game and he was so out of it he didn’t pay a lot of attention…but I hold that memory very close to my heart. We were there for each other and we both knew it!

  2. I read this early this morning and I have been mulling it over in my mind ever since. Having been in the blackness, my advice to a family member is basically you have a medical emergency on your hands. I would recommend that a loved one see a shrink almost immediately. The blackness is a black hole and it wants to suck you in deeper and deeper and never let you out and if you are not actively fighting it, you are actively surrendering to it. The longer you stay in – the harder it is to emerge and each episode makes the next episode more likely and more difficult. There is a difference between grieving and the blackness and sometimes it is hard for the person it is happening to and even harder for the family to recognize.

    If it takes six weeks for the medicine to work and you allow yourself a week before any calls to a doctor and then it takes a couple of weeks to get in to see someone, then you have lost almost two months at this point.

    Just my opinion.

    1. And it is an opinion I share. It was the first thing I said to them. Doctor did not put the sad person on meds but they are going back and trying again.
      What level of interference from your family were you able to tolerate?

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