The "Down" Side of Cancer
I had a bad weekend last week. I've been undergoing the process of partial invalidity retirement through work because of the fall out of my breast cancer diagnosis last year. I ended up with a thyroid that doesn't work, high blood pressure that is hard to control, underwent sudden menopause, osteoporosis due the hormone treatment, and on top of all that - depression.
I had post natal depression with my first son 18 years ago but back then no one recognised it for what it was. It took me six months to get diagnosed and until then, I'd wander into a store and forget why I was there. I'd be talking to a stranger at the bank and I'd start crying for no reason. I would be driving in the car and forget where I was. And then I wasn't sleeping either - so one day I locked myself in the bathroom and refused to come out. My husband was beside himself and with our crying baby, called our GP who made a house call, gave me a sedative and I was shipped off to a hospital for mums and babies. I spent 2 weeks there and I came out a new person, feeling better, more confident and not so tired.
When the 'blackness' descended again 18 years later, I knew what it was and took myself off to the doctor straight away. It was different though this time. I would get panic attacks (one happened while I was driving and someone cut me off - I was so distraught I had to pull over on the side of the road and it took me 30 minutes to calm down and keep going). Another time I was walking along the balcony of a second story building outside. I glimpsed over the side (I've never been scared of heights before this day) and felt I was going to throw up. I plastered myself to the side of the building and quickly made my way down via some stairs.
My GP referred me to the most wonderful psychiatrist in the Oncology clinic of our city's main hospital and she put me on Efexor straight away. It took a few weeks but I started feeling better (and myself) again. BUT this experience has coloured my medical assessment. Instead of the assessing doctor taking my physical issues into consideration he has latched onto the depression and has told the superannuation fund that depression is no reason to make someone partially invalid.
So this week I've been fighting. Fighting to get people to understand that the medical condition came first and then the depression. Fighting to try to ensure my doctors evaluations aren't lost in the myriad of red tape that is the Commonwealth Government. Fighting to try to understand why I have to fight so hard to get what should be something I'm entitled to (because I've paid for years and years into this super fund) because my health does not allow me to work full time anymore. I have my treating doctors on my side (all of them amazingly enough), my family and my close friends. But it's not enough. I've fought the ultimate fight for my life - beating cancer but now I must continue to fight for my future financial security. Seems so ridiculous to me really......