Post-Op Thoughts on Mental Health

This article is going to be a tangent from the self discovery journey I have been going on… do not worry though, I have other articles coming. In the meantime, I have been resting and recuperating because in my life there have been few experiences more humbling than being one handed and in pain, living at my parents house. As a lot of you may know, I recently had shoulder surgery, specifically, an Arthroscopic Shoulder Capsulorrhaphy. The procedure went really well, and I am super grateful for my surgeon and the nurses who were just amazing.

Anyways, the surgery itself is not the point of this article… My first few days of recovery are what inspired this. This picture (below) is what I looked like less than 24 hours post op: tired, but pretty happy. The thing about shoulder surgery though is that post op, you can only sleep on your back for at least the first two weeks. In addition, surgeons recommend sleeping sitting up… therefore, this brown recliner was my bed for five days. Overall I had a sweet setup: I was hooked up to an ice machine, had a journal documenting what pain meds I was taking, and my amazing co-workers sent me a huge box of cookies that my parents and I thoroughly enjoyed. (Shoutout to Megan, Amanda, and Kyle!)

My parents have been absolutely amazing throughout my entire recovery, especially that first week post-op. My dad slept on the couch next to me for four days, making sure that when I woke up at 3am, he was in the prime position to plug my ice machine in or to get me more pain meds. My mom made sure that I always had everything that I needed, and continues to be the best hairdresser and chauffeur while I remain one handed. (FYI: Did you know driving in a sling is illegal??). When my parents went to LA to visit my little sister my twin flew in from Washington to spend the weekend and take care of me. My friends Emily and Alexa pick me up and take me everyday to the gym without ever complaining. Again I find myself ranting about how incredibly blessed I am to have such an amazing support system.

Why am I explaining all of this? Well, for one thing with my amazing black sling as a fashion statement, it is quite obvious that I need help with certain things: driving, doing my hair, cutting my food, opening jars, etc., and people are more than happy and willing to pitch in. Strangers even go out of their way to help me in a grocery store with getting items I cannot reach. It’s even easy for people to anticipate what I need, and most of the time, especially with my family, I do not even need to ask. I was making dinner with my mom the other day, and we fell into a comfortable rhythm where it was just known I would stir the risotto for the entire 20ish min while she did all of the other work. (She’s the best). The very obvious nature of my current injury has prompted some reflection on a time in my life where my injury/sickness was not physically obvious.

This picture to the left, (I am in the red hat) was me at the height of my major depressive episode and starting the beginning of my mental health journey. Looking at this picture, you would never know how truly alone, isolated and low I felt. To be honest, my family did not either. They knew I was sleeping more and very irritable with my siblings, but other than that I was still getting straight A’s, I still went to soccer practice, and I still helped out around the house.

Let me be clear: I am not blaming my parents at all for not recognizing the signs of my depression earlier. I knew I was depressed, long before I asked my mom to help set me up with a therapist and a psychiatrist. That being said, my situation is just a small example of a far larger problem and the worst part is, I am also FAR from unique. How many physical signs does someone have to show for their mental struggles to be realized and validated?

If I had to explain the way I felt metaphorically during this time it would be that I was in the darkest tunnel imaginable and I did not see a light at the end. Without a sling, or a set of crutches, without failing grades or an absence of routine though, I appeared just fine and my family continued believing that I was, until I had a miniature breakdown that does not need to be described online. That was 7 years ago.

Today, suicide is the 12th leading cause of death in the US, and the trouble with this issue is that many suffers do not show physical symptoms; therefore, many people do not know they need help.

Just this early February, Cheslie Kryst, the former Miss USA died by suicide, after hiding her battle with depression for the majority of her struggle. Depression and Mental health might currently be talked about a lot more than in the past, but it is quite evident that the stigma around mental health has not been reduced enough. In addition to many sufferers being unable or unwilling to ask for help, the issue with High Functioning Depression as well as mental health in general, is that the signs of suffering are not always clear. Just because someone is not physically showing signs of injury or illness does NOT mean that they are not hurting. Many of the current things that I cannot do because of my shoulder: jump out of bed and brush my hair in the morning, make myself dinner, and play soccer are the exact things that I struggled with when I was depressed. 7 years ago, I did not have a physical limitation of being unable to complete these things but a mental one.

How can you help reduce the stigma around mental health?

1. Be open about talking about your own mental health

• Anxiety and Depression can be very isolating experiences, purely knowing that you are not the only one suffering through this experience is a liberating and very helpful realization.

2. Acknowledge that Mental Illness can be just as limiting as Physical Injuries or Illnesses

• This does not just apply to families and friends. This means that if you are boss, taking a sick day for a mental health reason should be encouraged, not frowned upon. If you are a coach and your player is exhausted and in need of support, encourage a break or allow them to talk to you about how they are feeling. In my experience, I needed more help and love when I was depressed than I do post shoulder surgery.

3. Validate the feelings of those who choose to confide in you, do NOT shut them down.

• It takes a lot of courage to open up to someone when you are struggling with your mental health. Historically, and many of the times presently, we live in a “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” kind of world. It is so incredibly harmful for a depressed individual to hear phrases such as “snap out of it”... “I am sure this will just pass”... and “well, nothing is wrong with your life, I do not understand why you are so upset”. Instead, focus on listening to your loved one and thank them for taking the step of confiding in you. Ask questions about what you can do to support them, and if they are open to, encourage them to speak to a professional.

To anyone currently suffering with depression or any kind of mental illness:

If you were in a cast, or a sling, or a boot, or a brace, would you ask for help in the tasks that you needed someone for? Just because your struggle is mental does not make it any less valid or any less difficult than a physical injury. Tell a loved one or someone you trust how you are really doing. You are not, and are never alone.

In society, if we learned to help someone who is mentally ill just as well as we help out someone with a sling or someone on crutches, I believe we would be a much healthier world.