mature-depressed-woman

Scar Tissue

Today I went to see my very much-loved doctor, Grace. My sister is in town this week, so she went with me. I invited her because it was a depression/medication appointment. I worry my sister all the time and thought it might help her know who is watching over me.

It was a good appointment, as always. They are usually running behind because Grace spends so much time with every person. I can’t get mad when I have to wait because I know why it happens. Today, though, there was no wait.

We went through the medication thing and we added another one to my regimen. It needs to be taken in the morning. I have to figure out how to make that happen. I know it sounds like a simple thing, but sometimes I don’t get to my pill-box until 4 in the afternoon. Actually, today it was 5 pm. I will come up with something to train myself.

Scott, my counselor, had suggested I do some research on Dr. Daniel Amen. Being the compliant client I am, I looked him up. I am going to spend time weekly reading/listening to some of his stuff. He is a psychiatrist that uses SPECT brain scans to treat his patients. He says we need to treat individual brains rather than clusters of symptoms. He made total sense to me and I was sold. Brain scan is not something I’ve tried.

I asked Grace, and of course she knew what I was talking about. She is always mentioning the latest research on such and such. Do we even have anything like that in Buffalo? There is ONE doctor. That was actually more than I thought. She said I will probably have to wait several months, but that he uses SPECT scans and then farms to his mid-level staff once you are seen and diagnosed. That’s fine with me. Grace was in favor of it because she knows I have tried just about everything known to humankind to beat my depression and haven’t been able to. (I still think meeting a man who is actually a decent partner would help tremendously, but we all know how THAT has worked out!)

I will call his office tomorrow. I don’t care if I have to wait a year; at least I will get the process started. Grace, my sister and I chatted about my symptoms. We all agreed: Somehow, even though I seem to “heal” and “move on” from loss, I carry the scar with me throughout my entire life. That is why I feel so exhausted and used up, like my soul has been chipped away at for decades and I’m finally calling “uncle.”

Then Grace said something that struck me. She said that when a bone/muscle is broken/injured, scar tissue forms over scar tissue. She said the fascinating part is that scar tissue can become stronger than the original bone ever was. I had never heard that. I just looked at her through my watery eyes and said, “Why do I feel anything but strong? I feel so spent.”

I don’t remember what her response was. I did walk away feeling like maybe I’m just not there yet. Like maybe my scar tissue is still just forming. The strength may be around the corner. Look out, because if this is true, I am going to be strong like bull with all the scar tissue I have accumulating.

Thanks, Grace, and thanks, Sissy. I am lucky to have people who care about me and weep when I weep. I promise I will keep trying to heal.