Beware of the "Are you crazy?" test question

This morning was a visit with a psychologist.  The same psychologist that I saw on the 7^th floor of the Ottawa General (my favourite place) a few weeks after my surgery.  At that time, she told me I had an anxiety disorder.  I really didn’t need another diagnosis then.  And I wanted to tell her that if she had just been diagnosed with cancer and had a tube sticking out of her, she might be a bit anxious herself.   She also told me to do some things like say the alphabet backwards and rock myself when I would feel anxious.  It didn’t really help, and I didn’t go back to see her.

 

At my last appointment with my specialist, though, a kindly nurse, talked to me afterwards and said, “Honey, I know how you feel. I had cancer 19 years ago, and I know what it’s like is to feel alone and not be able to think about anything else.”  She offered me an appointment with a psychologist.  I was hard pressed to say no.

 

Today, I reluctantly returned to the 7^th floor of the General to see the same psychologist. 

 

“What are you anxious about?” she asked me. 

 

“I am scared that my cancer will recur.”

 

“Do you believe that your cancer will recur?”  (This is the “Are you crazy?” question.  I recognized the tone from our last appointment.)

 

« No, I believe that my cancer could recur.” And I don’t hear voices talking to me, either.

 

I passed the test.  This time, she maintained that I don’t have an anxiety disorder and that I am, in fact, coping very well.  And it was nice to hear her say that it is normal for younger people (well, comparatively) with young children who have had cancer, even such an early stage one, to be more anxious.  And it was nice to be reminded that the probability of recurrence with such an early stage cancer is very low.  She said that the Ottawa General is liberal with the use of chemotherapy.  I would have been given it if my doctor hadn’t been confident.

 

“Would you buy a lottery ticket with 95 percent odds of winning?”

 

“Yes.”

 

So my odds are pretty good when I look at it that way. 

 

And she reminded me of the havoc that scar tissue has on your body, especially with such extensive surgery. 

 

So, in the end, it helped to have the visit, even though she went on 15 minutes longer than an hour, and I had to jump out of my seat when I realized the time since I had to get back to work and Jaime was waiting for me.

 

What kind of therapist goes on for longer than an hour?

 

Maybe one who cares.