I broke one of my rules. Rule #5 explicitly states: "If your insurance is kind enough to cover mental health, TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT! It is not because you are sick or damaged or need to "get better," but because the closest person in your life will not always be available to support you and listen to you, and a lot of the emotional work may fall on your shoulders. A good therapist can go a long way in making the residency experience easier to bear." Apparently your therapist's maternity leave is not a valid excuse to stop going to therapy, even temporarily, at a time when your world feels like it's falling apart. I wrote a few weeks ago about a major event that threw me off my axis and sent me spinning, trying desperately to grab hold of anything steady enough to keep me on the ground. Complicating matters was J's away rotation that left us unable to process the event together in any meaningful way. Thankfully, I had my therapist. I texted her as soon as I could, we scheduled a phone session for the following day, and I went from my regular bi-weekly therapy sessions to once-weekly. I was extremely thankful for having had nearly three years to build up a relationship with her so I didn't have to explain anything other than what I felt in that moment. I didn't have to explain all the complicating factors - residency, his schedule, my struggles with New York, my homesickness. When I said "This really sucks," she understood the statement had many layers going far deeper than our immediate predicament. But then life happened. She gave birth to her first child a few weeks earlier than planned, and suddenly my therapist was on maternity leave a mere three weeks after that emergency phone session. I didn't quite know what to do. She told me the office had another therapist who'd fill in her for her and see her patients while she was away, but somehow I convinced myself - against my own better judgement - that this would be a perfect opportunity to test whether or not the skills I'd developed over the last few years with her could carry me through a few months on my own. Besides, I was skeptical that seeing a different therapist was really the best idea. Was this really the best time to establish a brand new relationship with a stranger who didn't know where I was coming from without lots of back story? So I thought: Yes, let me try this. Let me prove to myself that I can go a few months without needing someone else to validate or question my thoughts in order to find the best possible solutions. I can do that on my own. . . right? Wrong. A week went by. Two. J finished up his rotation and finally came home, but not really because he wasn't getting out of the hospital until after 8:30 or 9:00 each night. And he was traveling for interviews and it was concert season at school and we had fancy dinners to attend because it's that time of year and I wasn't quite healing from everything that was going on and-- "I think you should go back to therapy," J said. He'd managed to call me briefly one evening while he was on call, while the chaos had temporarily subsided. Without judgement or frustration in his voice he told me exactly what I needed to hear and what I couldn't recognize myself: that consistent therapy sessions had been working really well for me especially in moments of crisis. "You need something I can't give you," J told me, and he was absolutely right. I needed someone who wasn't emotionally involved to listen and help me sort everything out. I needed a therapist in the same way I needed fresh vegetables, a steady routine, and a good night's sleep: because it was good for me, and without it my mind and body couldn't work quite as well. So, with great trepidation, some anxiety, and the absolute conviction that I was doing the right thing, I planned to meet a new therapist. Admittedly, I was scared it might not work out, or that she would say something blithe like "It's totally normal," or worse, "Can't your husband just take a personal day or ask someone else to cover for him?" I worried I would waste the entire first session explaining myself and wouldn't actually make any progress in a way that would help me right that instant. I also knew I was being unfair, but anxiety comes in many forms. As it happened, none of my fears were realized. In fact, she shared a lot of personality traits with my regular therapist and the conversation flowed with ease. She listened, validated my feelings, then helped me identify things I could do right away. We quickly scheduled another appointment for the following week. It was a copay well spent, and both J and I breathed a sigh of relief. So there we are! A happy ending! Except not quite, because therapy, counseling, and psychological support still have a long way to go in our society. Too many people still regard those who seek those services with concern that they're not well rather than praise their attention to self-care, and individuals who would so greatly benefit from it may shy away from seeking help because of its stigma. But as a friend once said after mentioning she sees a therapist, "I think everyone should have a therapist." I believe she's right. For residents' partners in particular, a therapist can ease the burdens of an extremely difficult lifestyle and provide support in ways that family, friends, and particularly the spouse cannot. In my case, my therapy sessions have gone beyond helping me and have strengthened my marriage. I am extremely grateful that J is so supportive of my therapy and asks about what advice I'm getting or what things I felt I needed to share. He understands, perhaps better than me, just how valuable it is for both of us. (Furthermore, I am grateful that our insurance covers unlimited sessions with a psychologist or therapist so I don't have to deprive myself of this extremely necessary care in my life.) As I'm often told, you need to take care of yourself before you can take care of others. To that I'll add: Seek care. Let yourself be cared for. You don't have to do it alone.
1 Comment
Amy
6/21/2018 02:39:32 am
Very nicely written. It is smart to take care of yourself and to seek help, and it's not easy to do. Good for you for making the effort to do all those key things -- eating, sleeping, getting therapy, getting exercise, being in community -- it takes time and dedication and courage. A friend of mine who was also my massage therapist for awhile always said "that's why you have to put your oxygen mask on first" to remind us that we can't care for others if we don't care for ourselves. Good for J, too, to have your best interests at heart and help you with getting what you need. Thanks for your excellent blog!
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AuthorNashira is a music teacher and proud Small-Town Jew who, after surthriving six years in Brooklyn for her husband's surgical residency, is finally back in Wisconsin where she belongs! At least until the end of the two-year surgical fellowship, that is. It's a wild ride, and she's ready to tell you all about it! Archives
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