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Pills or Prayer?

smgianotti@me.com  —  April 12, 2018

This post first ran at Fathom Magazine on February 12, 2018. 


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She slumped in her chair as I again suggested that she might be depressed. She teared up, but declined a prescription. Her husband, a leader in the church, believed depression came from spiritual issues, not medical ones. She couldn’t risk people finding out she took pills for depression.   

 

This is often the case when I see patients for mental health issues. I find that they want to condense their problem into something bite-sized. As a health care provider, I’m tempted to do the same. A diagnosis feels more manageable if we can isolate and label the problem. So we zero in on biochemistry. “Just give me a pill, doc.” Or we focus exclusively on spirituality. “If I had more faith, I could get past my anxiety.” Or we allow our social history to consume us. “I’m damaged goods—life will never get any better.” 


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Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

 

Other times, we do the opposite, ignoring or smothering dimensions of our lives that contribute to our diagnoses. We ignore the impact of relationships. “I can’t deal with those memories—they hurts too much.” Or we neglect the physical, recreational, or emotional aspects of our lives. “I’m too busy to exercise . . . find a hobby . . . spend time making friends.” But wherever we neglect part of our humanity in our struggle with mental health, we curtail God’s healing in our lives Continue Reading…

“So, you’re here today about your blood pressure,” I said, my words trotting out. The key to a successful morning at a doctor’s office is to keep up the tempo. Fall behind schedule before 9 a.m. and you’ll have a morning full of grumpy patients waiting for you. I dropped onto the swivel chair and opened my laptop.

 

“Blood pressure looks great. How long have you been off the pills?” A couple weeks. She’d waited till after surgery like we’d discussed.

 

“Any new problems?” No, she felt great. Surgery had gone well. No other concerns. 

 

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Photo courtesy of Megan Au via flickr.com (CC BY-ND-NC 2.0)

 

I closed my laptop and slid the stethoscope into my ears. I couldn’t believe my luck, this was going to be the quickest first-appointment-of-the-day ever.

 

“Sounds good. Hope you have a great week!” I stuffed the stethoscope into my pocket and headed for the door.

 

“One more thing…” she said Continue Reading…

A giant, purple muumuu cascaded over her large, mocha body as she sat in my exam room. I still suspect that catching cold delighted Mrs. Rodriguez*, since it gave her a reason to see everyone at the office. 

 

A retired kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Rodriguez carried around bucketfuls of pent-up love. Each time I saw her, I got a little dousing–a blue tote that reminded her of her beloved bluebonnets that I must see one day, a heart-shaped necklace at Valentine’s, or gas station burritos. 

 

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Photo courtesy of Phillip Howard via flickr.com 

 

“Best burritos in Rochester,” she said. “You’ve got to know where the real Mexicans cook.”  

 

That day, she proffered this gem: “Enjoy singleness, Shannon. Once you get married, you can’t just walk around the house tooting.” 

Continue Reading…