Mental Depression preventing me cycling

[pardes]

I sat through a staff meeting today to resolve emotional issues between two employees, both clinically depressed, one on meds, the other unable to tolerate the meds side effects and who is toughing things out with behavior modification.

Both were actually dealing fairly well with their lives in their own ways and with their own "prescriptions," it's just that they couldn't work in the same room without wanting to strangle each other.

It's another example that no one system works for everyone. Some swear by drugs; others shrink form them. Both sides have their own good reasons.

What we've tried to do here, and I think we did it very compassionately, was to offer what worked for us. And what didn't.

I believe the point of this thread was an appeal for understanding and a listening ear that was echoed back with heartfelt offers of comfort and the recipe for their version of "chicken soup."

Let's no digress from Kajero, the focus of the thread, into a discussion of what's the right thing to say.

Which reminds me of an incident that happened only hours after I was given the diagnosis of having a brain tumor that required immediate emergency surgery. I had all of a few hours to get my life in order, figure out how to provide for my invalid mother if I died, and find someone to agree to be my power of attorney to pull the plug if I went into a coma that lasted longer than three days.

Astonishingly, I "owned" my brain tumor for only about an hour. After that it was hijacked and became the focus of everyone else as their property. "What will I do if my daughter dies...." "How can I ever pull the plug on my friend?" I was left in the dust while they sought comfort from others about the brain tumor crisis of their life.

I remember walking out the door of the house to get away from it all and just started walking down the street of the development. I kept thinking to myself, "I just wish that someone would be here with me now, really be here, with me and just walk with me."

I walked and walked. And then I thought I heard the jingle of a dog collar behind me. I turned around but nothing was there. I kept walking and then I thought I saw a flash of fur approaching from the left but again I looked and nothing was there. And then I felt a wet nose nuzzle my hand but again nothing was there. And then I started to smile. What I didn't even know was a prayer had been answered in a transcendental way designed specifically for me who loves dogs and wolves better than most humans.

I relaxed into the moment and began to see flashes of light that began to take on the form of a wolf/dog running beside me with that happy kind of expression a dog has when it runs for the joy of running beside someone they love. I can still see the image to this day that was like someone stepping into front of an old-fashioned home movie projector where you can see the transparent image illuminated on their face or body when they block the projection path.

I returned home feeling a great deal better and reported for surgery the next morning. Surgeons are not known for their people skills and I was treated not badly, but quite insensitively on the hospital grand rounds where I was considered a good teaching case. My recovery was fuzzy and I wasn't up to being able to match wits with the rude surgeon and on the verge of tears of humiliation, when I happened to notice a shadow, then two, then three enter the room.

The wolf-dog had brought reinforcements and they proceeded to circle the bed between me and the doctors and audience, a protective wall of fur, and I could relax.

I never saw the wolf-dogs again and many will claim that it was a hallucination caused by the brain tumor.

Perhaps. But who cares? It worked.

And that's my point. We are not trying to practice psychiatry here. We are merely offering what worked for us. Be it drug or dog or wolf.