I was sitting with my new psychiatrist, driven by
desperation after yet another medication failure and the intrusive thoughts
that disturbed me. My daily goal for the
last few years were to: 1. Do my job, and 2. Keep it together. But it was getting more and more difficult to
function. This was a psychiatrist that I had traveled four hours to see –
making this appointment a literal “mental health day.” One of
the first things she said to me was, “You’re so lucky to be in the medical field,
it’s so easy for you to get help!”
Uh, no.
I had to block off a whole day of appointments. When my
colleague/supervisor/primary care provider asked me what my appointment was
for, I just flatly said, “psych.” I couldn’t lie because – being in the
military – we have an electronic medical record system that allows all physicians, physician assistants, and nurse practitioners
to see each other’s records.
I am a military medical provider, which complicates dealing
with Major Depressive Disorder. There are some stigmas that I have to get over.
Officer. Female. Medical provider. Combat arms. No one wants to think
that their depressed doc will “freak out” as they treat a shotgun wound or a
mass casualty in a war zone, (I actually have an unusual ability to stay calm
in extremely stressful situations).
I tried doing the casual request to my colleague of, “Hey,
can you put me in for a refill?” He would go on to talk about “burnout” and
would recall jokingly that during his residency that, “Yeah, I wondered what
would happen if I just ran into this tree…” Then everything became about “burnout.”
“Are you okay? Are
you burned out?”
It’s not burnout, I know the difference. I haven’t always
been like this. Even when I was going through my medical training, other than
the usual anxiety and bruised self-esteem, I never had to deal with this
parasitic brain mold and the gradual corrosion of my mind. A brain that has
been the source of intelligence, humor, and creativity was now my worst enemy
as it was seeking to destroy me from the inside out.
It’s not just one colleague.
Mental health stigma and misconceptions exist among medical providers. I
opened up to a couple of other colleagues why I could not pass a flight
physical – my antidepressant waiver was
denied. They jokingly talked about their stress coping mechanisms - usually a beer or two at the end of the day or
an occasional tirade of profanity to “let it all out.”
A prior psychiatrist suggested that I added counseling to my
treatment. This would lead to more records at risk of being seen by colleagues,
so I pay out of pocket for online therapy . Online therapy is actually a really good fit
for me and my schedule.
Then there are those forms for licensing renewal and
credentialing that ask the question, “Have you been under the care of a
physician for a mental illness?” Again, my records are open to the physicians
of the credentialing staff of the hospital. You could imagine my anxiety when
it seemed like my credentialing paperwork was taking longer than usual to
process.
Medical providers are still human. We are some of the most
resilient people on Earth but we are not invincible. “Physician, heal thyself,”
can only go so far. We need understanding and compassion not only
from our patients and families, but our colleagues and supervisors as well.
