Showing posts with label reader poll. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reader poll. Show all posts

Monday, July 6, 2009

No Hope - Where Hope Truly Starts


"How hopeful are you?" I asked you - my readers - over the month of July. Of the 168 who responded, one in four of you (25%, 42) told me that you "see little or no hope in the way my life is going." By contrast, a mere one in ten (10%, 17) felt "very optimistic about my prospects."

Fortunately, another one in four of you (27%, 47) owned up to being "cautiously optimistic about my future." Still, that adds up to less than 4 in ten who are upbeat about the way your lives are going.

Over at the other end, more than one in ten of you (14%, 25) are fearful about tomorrow. Combine this with the "no hope" group, and we're pretty evenly balanced between the "upbeats" (37%) and the "downbeats" (39%).

Occupying the middle are one in five of you (22%, 25) who are "living day to day."

What are we to make of all this? Without hope, we can pretty well kiss recovery goodbye. But we also know that hope is a non-starter in the midst of a raging depression or similar mental illness state. Perhaps I simply caught some of you at a bad time.

But for many of you, the current state of your illness may have little or nothing to do with it. Your episode may have resolved, but the personal fall-out hasn't. Plugging your life back in is simply not going to happen with no job to go back to, no friends, no loving relationship, no money in the bank.

On top of everything, we are in the midst of the worst economic/financial crisis in memory.

Well meaning people, including therapists, are bound to point out the error in your thinking, but I would rather congratulate you for acknowledging the truth, for owning up to how you feel right now. Yes, we all want hope in our lives, but false hope is a mirage. Once we accept reality, we can work our way to understanding, and - eventually - true wellness. Hold that thought - this is where hope begins ...

Monday, June 1, 2009

New Poll Results: Meds in Our Treatment - How Does "Smart" Factor In?


"How well have your meds worked for you?" I asked you in a poll I ran here through the month of May. Of the 168 who responded, only 14 percent of you answered, "very well." In other words, only a small percentage of you thought your meds worked like gang-busters. The overwhelming rest of you had reservations.

Thirty-six percent of you - about one-third - responded, "conditionally well." In other words, your meds may not be perfect but they were meeting your expectations. When you add in the "very well" group, fully half you reported satisfactory results with your meds.

So, can we put a positive spin on the results? Hold that thought.

One in five of you (19 percent) told me that your meds were "rather problematic." In other words, you're not happy with your meds, but you are experiencing some benefit.

Nearly one in five (17 percent) responded that your meds were "very problematic" and 11 percent told me your meds were "a complete disaster." Added together, nearly one-third of you have given an unambiguous thumbs down to your meds.

So, how do we interpret the results? Keep in mind this is hardly a scientific survey. Let's go negative, first:

The fact that more than eight in ten of you reported that your meds are not working "very well" - for whatever reasons - speaks volumes. Add to that the fact that the "complete disaster" group is running in a virtual dead heat with the "very well" group and we are talking very low levels of customer satisfaction.

In other words, if meds were automobiles, car makers like General Motors would be in bankruptcy. Wait, let me rephrase that. Uh, never mind ...

Now let's go positive. This means first seeing possibilities in the "rather problematic" grouping. Suppose, for instance, half of you in this group were to graduate to "conditionally well." Then 60 percent of you - nearly two thirds - would at least be reasonably satisfied with your meds. Suppose we could get similar conversion rates from the "very problematic" and "complete disaster" groups. Then three-quarters of you would be happy customers.

How is that possible?

The meds are constant in this equation. The two variables are you and your psychiatrist. First imagine a smart patient working with a smart psychiatrist. Now picture a naive patient placing his or her trust in a lazy psychiatrist. Are we likely to see dramatically different outcomes? I rest my case.

Okay, one example: You come to your psychiatrist depressed. He diagnoses you with clinical depression. The antidepressant doesn't work. In fact, it makes you feel worse. The psychiatrist tries you on another antidepressant, then another. You are starting to feel like you are crawling out of your skin.

Then your psychiatrist gets a bright idea - or rather a thought implanted in him by a drug rep the day before. Based on his conversation with someone way too dumb to get into med school in the first place but attractive enough to take up a career in modeling (whether male or female), he now decides that the answer to your problem is an atypical antipsychotic to kickstart the antidepressant.

A smart psychiatrist will know exactly the right situation to make this call, but in your case would probably never have to make it. Instead, after not getting a good result with your second antidepressant, she - the smart psychiatrist, that is - would probably revisit the diagnosis. It could turn out - on further enquiry - that you have bipolar or something in the bipolar spectrum. So she takes you off the antidepressant and puts you on a mood stabilizer.

If the mood stabilizer works, your "complete disaster" scenario has been turned around. Maybe not all the way. In all likelihood, in fact, you still have a long way to go. But now, at least, you are in a position to learn more, to move up to from being a naive patient to a smart one.

What a difference "smart" makes in the equation.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Blueprint for Recovery - YOU Are the Authority


Last week, I spent three days at a schizophrenia conference listening to some of the smartest people in the world, and I have the autograph of a Nobel Laureate (Arvid Carlsson) to prove it.

But the people I learn from the most is you - patients and loved ones - and I have this month's latest survey to prove it.

"What is holding you back most in your recovery?" I asked you over the month of March. Readers were free to check off as many of the nine answers as they wished. (169 respondents accounted for 490 answers, averaging 2.9 answers per person.) You could have knocked me over with a feather with the results:

Only 35 percent of you checked off, "Unresolved illness symptoms." In other words, a full 65 percent of you felt that your illness no longer posed an obstacle to your recovery.

Does this mean psychiatry has a high success rate? Um ... not exactly. In my January survey, only 14 percent of you told me that you "were back to where [you] wanted to be or better than [you] ever could have imagined."

What is going on here? Could it be that we have other stuff we need to deal with? This is where it gets interesting:

Fifty percent of you (representing by far the largest total) responded that the thing holding you back the most is "fears/difficulties in dealing with people." Very closely related (at 35 percent) is "bad living/work/etc" situation.

Clearly, we have major interpersonal issues that need addressing. Without doubt, our respective illnesses play havoc with our ability to get along with people. But you are telling me that people problems have taken on a life of their own, and it's not hard to imagine why.

Often, we can't go back to our old relationships or work. As we become isolated and cut off, our social skills atrophy. We lose confidence. We are overwhelmed.

Half of you are telling me that you see the world as a threatening and hostile place, and this does not bode well for recovery. We tend to judge personal success by how well we get along with others. Unfortunately, there is no magic pill to help us. But there exists a lot of therapeutic and social help. You have identified this issue as your top priority. Please do not hesitate to act.

Also related to this (at 32 percent) is "inability to manage fears, impulses, etc apparently unrelated to your illness." Maybe you don't attribute, say, anger, to your illness. Maybe you talk too much or are afraid to speak up. Maybe going with an irrational thought makes you feel good. These are common problems that the general population also experiences, but you have added this twist - your sense of lack of control is holding as many of you back in your recovery as unresolved illness symptoms.

Your clinician may have overlooked all this, but clearly you haven't. You know what you need to do.

We all have "bad personal habits" (even those with good personal habits), but 36 percent of you felt they were impeding your progress. Likewise, 30 percent of you report that "making excuses" constitutes a major problem.

Congratulations at setting out a recovery agenda: You need to change; no excuses. But do keep in mind: Change does not come easy. Set modest goals, forgive yourself when you mess up, and make full use of peer and professional support.

Finally: Meds side effects (24 percent), addictions (21 percent), and physical ailments (21 percent).

Take home message: There is no such thing as "just depression," "just bipolar," "just anxiety," and so on. A lot of other stuff is going on. Whether wrapped in your illness or independent of it, it all needs to be addressed, because if it isn't - recovery is simply not going to happen

I can say this with great authority, because this is what you - my valued readers - have told me. Be smart. Live well ...

Previous survey results:

Have Our Treatments and Therapies Failed Us?

Meds and Wellness: Like Rolling a Rock Uphill?

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Meds and Wellness: Like Rolling a Rock Uphill?


"How do you rate your meds in managing your illness?" I asked my readers here in survey that ran through the month of February. The results, quite frankly, astonished me.

Fifty percent responded that meds were their single most important tool and another 32 percent that their meds were "important, but no more so than their other tools." In other words, four in five patients put meds at the top of their list, either as a solo act or with a dance partner.

As for the one in five: A mere three percent said meds were less important than their other tools, just five percent said their other tools were way more important, and another five percent assigned no importance to meds (or were not on meds).

Why am I surprised? In the 10 years that I have immersed myself full-time in researching my illness and listening to patients and loved ones, never once have I come across an "end-user" who has told me of writing a letter of appreciation to Eli Lilly or some other manufacturer or talked about starting up, say, a Seroquel fan club.

To the contrary, all I hear is complaints. Meanwhile, over the same 10-year period, I have witnessed the rise of the recovery movement, which acknowledges the role of meds in our getting better but takes a dim view in their ability to get us well.

What gives? Has everything I've heard all these years been wrong? Have meds been given a bad rap? Are they really much better than patients have been letting on, way decidedly better?

Not exactly. No, in fact. Make that unequivocally no. The month before, I polled my readers on how well they are doing. One in four replied they were "in crisis or close to crisis." Four in ten reported they were "stable but not well." Just one in five said they were on the way to recovery, and only 14 percent responded that they were back to where they wanted to be or better than they ever could have imagined.

Granted, neither poll was scientific. My readership may not reflect the patient population at large. Moreover, those who answered my second poll may not be the same people who responded to my first. But even taking all that into account, we are looking at numbers that boggle the mind, namely:

82 percent who rate their meds as their number one management tool vs 14 percent who are actually well.

Holy crap!

Four years ago, I came across a far more scientific survey conducted by Melbourne researcher Sarah Russell PhD. Dr Russell recruited a hundred bipolar patients who were doing well (either symptom-free and behaving normally or having a sense of control over their illness) and asked them what they did to stay well. Meds figured in the equation, but they were way down low on their list of priorities.

Instead, the people Dr Russell talked to emphasized various mindfulness and stress reduction techniques, rigorous sleep management, smart life decisions, and so on.

Dr Russell's findings are more in accord with my own experiences and those of "well" patients I have encountered, namely:

When we're new to our diagnosis, or in crisis or heading into crisis, our meds loom large. "Snapping out of it" and "getting a grip" are simply not options. Our brains are overwhelmed. We don't know what hit us. We need our meds to do the heavy lifting.

That changes further into the game. Our brains start to boot up. Our thinking comes back on line. We start finding out everything we can. Over time, we acquire much greater wisdom and insight. We pick up a vast range of coping and management skills.

As we become more adept, our meds assume far less importance. We may still be taking them (generally in reduced doses or on an as-needed basis), but we're simply not thinking about them as much. We are thinking far more, instead, about the things that have an impact in the here and now, such as stress and sleep.

For instance, for many of us, missing a good night's sleep is far more likely to result in personal disaster than missing a meds dose. Paradoxically, the key to getting a good night's sleep may be taking a sleeping pill.

The "well" patient understands this. Unfortunately, if my two polls are anything to go by, way too many of us are not there yet.

Much more on Dr Russell's study and related issues in future blogs ...

From mcmanweb:

Staying Well

The patients informed Dr Russell that they were extremely mindful of their diagnosis and “how they were responding to their mental, emotional, social, and physical environment.” Rather than simply taking their meds and forgetting about their illness (an impression created by their doctors), patients would “move swiftly to intercept a mood swing.” Moving swiftly often meant a decent night’s sleep and other strategic stop and smell the roses moments.