After the 6 rough rounds of TCHP and my surgeries I was quite low. I couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to see people, cried a lot. I had all the characteristics of depression and possibly PTSD, things my doctors assured me were normal after experiencing my life crumble to dust without notice. I believed them when they said things would start looking up but I also wasn’t too proud to admit I could use some help.
Strangely, my cancer team did not feel that my mental health should be included in their treatment plan. They recommended I see my regular doctor. But, I didn’t have a primary care doctor. Remember, before cancer I was the image of health and fitness. It was quite devastating. It took quite a stern demand but I was finally able to get help.
My oncology nurse practitioner prescribed me 10mg of Lexapro daily, an anti-depressant and anti-anxiety pill. Almost immediately, glory hallelujah, I slept. It was just what I needed. However, after about a week of deep, restorative sleep, I began to notice that I was emotionally flat. Nothing mattered. I couldn’t enjoy sex. Information was just absorbed. I basically felt numb. While this was not a pleasant feeling, I decided that it was better than how I had felt before. For the first time in my life, I wanted to feel nothing instead of something. That’s how low I was.
After a month of nothingness, I reduced my dose to 5mg a day. Things started feeling more normal. This is important because this dosage is half of the lowest dose recommended by the drug maker. You can do that, you know. With my nurse practitioner’s blessing, I took less and it worked. Take that, pharmaceutical companies!
For 4 months, I allowed my brain to feel artificially happy and I’m so glad I did. This also coincided with beginning Tamoxifen, which I believe lessened my side-effects significantly. I’ll post more about Tamoxifen next.
Get the help you need by any means possible. Demand it. Negotiate. Bribe. Scream. Yell. Cry. Do whatever you have to do to get the help you need. You don’t have to suffer.