6 posts tagged “II”

Getting to know our 2014 Team of Advisors – Dana

Posted October 3rd, 2014 by

Just last month, we announced the coming together of our first-ever, patient-only Team of Advisors – a group of 14 PatientsLikeMe members that will give feedback on research initiatives and create new standards that will help all researchers understand how to better engage with patients like them. They’ve already met one another in person, and over the next 12 months, will give feedback to our own PatientsLikeMe Research Team. They’ll also be working together to develop and publish a guide that outlines standards for how researchers can meaningfully engage with patients throughout the entire research process.

So where did we find our 2014 team? We posted an open call for applications in the forums, and were blown away by the response! The team includes veterans, nurses, social workers, academics and advocates; all living with different conditions. Over the coming months, we’d like to introduce you to each and every one of them in a new blog series: Getting to know our 2014 Team of Advisors. First up, Dana.

About Dana (aka roulette67)

Dana is a poet and screenplay writer living in New Jersey. She is very active in the Mental Health and Behavior forum. She is open to discussing the ups and downs of living with bipolar II and helping others through their journey. She has been through weight loss surgery three times and is very interested in the connectivity of diet to mental health—she believes that psychiatrist’s need to be aware of the whole person, and have an understanding about diet, physical health and mental health, not just focus on medication.

Dana is passionate about fighting the stigma of mental illness, which causes people to self-medicate. She believes there needs to be more positive examples on television. Here’s a fun fact about Dana: she won the people’s choice (top voted by peers) award in the PatientsLikeMe video contest for her video, I am not alone.

Dana on being part of the Team of Advisors 

It’s really quite an honor, considering the amount of people on the site. I’ve discovered what a wonderful group the advisor’s are and have had some meaningful conversations with a few of them online. I appreciate the opportunity in helping others in anyway I can to understand what we go thru on a daily basis. By getting a glimpse into the life of someone with an illness, I feel that I am educating them and helping them understand a person they might love or know or have dealings with in their own lives. And hopefully open their eyes a bit. 

Dana’s view on patient centeredness

Like those commercials for the Cancer Institute, where there are more than one doctor or professional to treat the whole patient instead of just the symptoms of one illness. Many times when you are mentally ill, it seems your body also suffers in physical ways, your diet also becomes poor. Patient-centered to me means that the doctor should look at your diet, your physical and your mental health. Just asking if you are taking your meds is not enough. Psychiatrist seem like pill dispensers and then dismiss you from their office and therapists talk, but really have no interest in the meds. More of a team effort is needed.

Dana’s contribution to researchers at the University of Maryland

PatientsLikeMe recently invited the University of Maryland (UMD) to our Cambridge office for a three day consortium that kicked off a partnership funded by their PATIENTS program, which aims to collect patient input and feedback on all phases of research, from ideas to published results. As one of the working sessions we invited Dana to join us remotely, to discuss her journey with bipolar II and share her perspective and expertise as a patient. Here’s what she experienced:

I was a little nervous at first, hoping I was able to answer their questions and provide them with what they needed to know. The questions were pretty specific at times and I found that to be interesting. Because it showed me that they really wanted to know and understand my views. I enjoyed the experience and hope that my interview helped them in some way.

I was very honest. Explained what it is like to suddenly become bipolar when you had no reference point in your life to prepare you for the physical and mental storm it brings. I stressed how it’s a 24/7 – 365 a day battle, even when the meds are working. At least in my experience it has been. I feel this was an important point to make and that they should consider this when dealing with participants in their research.

I would tell researchers moving forward to always remember the patient is more than a test subject. That what you are researching addresses them on a daily basis and some days, the best they can do is just get out of bed. That some type of break should be considered and might even work to their advantage.

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“In my own words” – PatientsLikeMe member Eleanor writes about her journey with bipolar II: Part 3

Posted July 7th, 2014 by

Eleanor (right), her daughter Kalea (left) and granddaughter Malia.

Over the past few months, Eleanor (redblack) has been sharing about her bipolar II on the blog, and today, we’re posting the final part of her series (thank you Eleanor for being so open and taking the time to share with everyone)!

Eleanor talks about her relationship with her psychiatrist Jon and how they recently sealed “nearly four decades of struggle, pain and healing.” Read on for the final chapter, and if you missed Eleanor’s two previous entries, check them out here.

 

 

 

My Psychiatrist of Thirty-Seven Years: Jon Betwee

What can I possibly say? Jon Betwee became my psychiatrist thirty-seven years ago, a month after we moved to Maui from western New York. He retired February 1st, but not before personally placing a few of his patients with one of the very limited number of therapists here. I was fortunate to be in that group. I am seeing a female nurse practitioner, licensed to write prescriptions and well-versed in bipolar disorder. As my PatientsLikeMe friend, Kitty, said to me last week, “She’s no Jon, but she just might turn out OK yet.”

Jon is very reserved outwardly, but extremely discerning and compassionate inside. He became the best friend I’ve ever had and the rock to which I clung whenever I was drowning. Jon was available 24/7, at home as well as the office. He treated me for years for severe clinical depression. Twice during the thirty-seven years I was bedridden because of severe weight loss and inability to eat in the depths of my despair. Both times, Jon came to our home for sessions until I was strong enough to go back to his office.

I was hospitalized once in Honolulu and given – it was discovered later – a series of medically incorrect electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) treatments. Jon later sent me to Western Psychiatric Institute and Clinic in Pittsburgh, where I received excellent therapy with my individual doctor, attended classes in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, Art Therapy, and received a thorough examination of my diagnosis, etc. I was also given ECT treatments, which I stopped. I consider ECT to be extremely inhumane.

About ten years ago Jon changed my diagnosis to bipolar II. He saw me through two suicide attempts. Frequently he communicated with experts on the mainland concerning my symptoms and medication. I was welcome to call him during the night when violent nightmares drove me to sit in the living room and ponder the value of ever leaving again, a darkness which had become my home. I seldom actually called. I would say to myself, “If it gets worse, I’ll call.” Then it would get worse and I’d say, “Well, if it gets worse than this, I’ll call.” Eventually the sun would begin to rise, and I’d breathe a sigh of relief. I had made it through another night. The important thing was not that I called, but that I knew I could call.

In my frequent cycling, it has taken years to accept his constant observations that when I am hypomanic, I think I am “cured” and ignore any and all red flags. When I am depressed, I cannot remember the healthy periods and feel it would be better for myself and my family to die. Having worked in a settlement house and been active in the Civil Rights Movement, I found a strong, liberal ally in Jon. Over the years we exchanged many books. He introduced me to Kay Redfield Jamison whose bipolar caused her to frequently change her hair color, re-arrange furniture and spend money she didn’t have on things, often for others, which seemed unbelievably desirable, rivaling “the rings of Saturn” in their beauty. Just – like – me. He gave me “Darkness Visible” by William Styron. It was like looking in a mirror. Jon studied my extended family and explained that I had come by bipolar disorder honestly through genetics. This relieved much of my guilt over an illness that frightened my children and challenged my husband.

Over the years, I have been on just about every medication that applies to depression and bipolar II. Some were ineffective; some had side effects severe enough to make me stop them. For two years my main medication has been Selegiline. Jon expressed caution about continuing it just before my therapy ended. Since then I have discontinued it with my therapist’s approval because of nightmares, weight gain and possibility of liver damage.

Two years ago, Jon gave me a detailed printed sheet for recording daily my mood levels, hours slept, and my place on a scale that went from deep depression to extreme mania. I also would write in any event that caused cycling. At each session he checked it, asking questions and pointing out how items I recorded affected my bipolar.

When he changed offices a few years ago, he gave me a painting of a depressed woman which had hung in his former office that I’d admired for years. It dominates my living room. I mention this to show how tuned in Jon was to his patients and how he looked for ways to be kind. There was a time when I couldn’t pay, but he assured me it could be made up whenever we could afford it. All this is vital to treating bipolar. Our lives are spent on a rollercoaster. Our loved ones are pained and don’t understand. A therapist who respects you, isn’t puzzled by your rapidly changing behavior, is never judgemental or impatient makes us feel we do have value and maybe continuing the struggle to live with bipolar is worthwhile. That’s why I am here, able to answer this survey.

Last August Jon told me he was retiring. I cried. For forty-five minutes. He said it would take some time, but he would help me make the transition. During the ensuing months we decided to meet twice a week, sifted through possible therapists until zeroing in on one, and tidied up a major issue that had plagued me on and off for years. I wished my last visit would be cheerful, showing my gratitude for all he had done, but that seemed impossible since every session now ended in tears. Before the last session I spent time preparing for it. I gained the realization that 1) my husband had become my main support 2) my friend, Kitty, on PatientsLikeMe – and other members – would continue to give me help and strength and 3) I reviewed what I’d learned from Jon over the years.

I was able to come to the last session in peace with a smile. We laughed about things that happened over the years. He said he would always be available by phone and we parted with a warm hug, sealing nearly four decades of struggle, pain and healing. I will always have what he’s given me. It is enough.

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