My thoughts on Robin Williams and suicide

The world has become so politically correct now that we can't even say the truth about suicide.  It used to be that the "default" thing to say when someone committed suicide was that he "took the cowardly way out."  Sheppard Smith said that on Fox a couple days ago, and he had to apologize and retract his statement.

Now political correctness has consumed our culture. Before this heightened sensitivity to not offending anyone consumed our society, we used to be able to speak the truth.  When we turned on the TV we would get the truth  Now the only way to be sure we are getting the truth is to read a column, blog, or watch or listen to the many political commentaries.

The reason people said "it was the cowardly way out" was because most people commit suicide rather than face the challenges of life.  We said it because there are people that you leave behind when you kill yourself, and you are leaving them with the grief, agony and pain that you are gone.  Maybe you are also leaving them with all the burdens you didn't want to face anymore, be they financial or other.

When people wrote about suicide they talked about the torturous effect it had on the spouse, children, parents, and friends.  There was talk about "what did I do that might have caused that person to commit kill himself.  There is the regret that they should have noticed the signs and done something to prevent it.

As a Catholic, we believed that suicide was a mortal sin.  If you got to the point in your life that you had to kill yourself, you were doomed to hell.  This was the disincentive to do it.

Today suicide is glorified, and mainly due to social media.  Instead of walking around that Robin Williams killed himself, they seem to glorify it.  They talk about all the accomplishments in his life, and how the world around him was so bad that it forced him to do it.

The truth is, the world around us has never, is not, and will never be easy.  There will always be challenges that we have to face.  Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, but those who are sick with severe depression do not see that.

I had a friend commit suicide once.  He told me the day before he was going to do it that he was going to do it.  We were at hunting camp where we all joke around and have fun, and here he spawns this on us.  One of the campers was a counselor, and he talked with Jim.

I remember everyone taking pictures of Jim, just in case.  I remember Jim saying to me that his wife had her children living in the house, and he was so depressed about it."

I said, "Why don't you tell them?  Why don't you just leave?"

He said, "Because I can't.  They count on me.  I'm trapped."

I completely understand how he feels.  As a parent I often feel trapped.  Here my kids get all the attention, and all our money is spent on them, and what is left for my wife and I.  Sometimes I feel trapped.  Sometimes we all feel this way.  It's normal.

I think that one of the greatest challenges to our society is depression, mainly because you can't just look at someone and know they are depressed.  And when you are the person who is depressed, you feel embarrassed to say anything about it. So it goes untreated.  So I can see how it can spin out of control.

What if the fact that we have glorified the suicide of Robin Williams -- the world around him caused it, some reports claimed -- other people whose worlds are falling apart, people seeking attention, people who want to be the center of attention, take the same route and kill themselves.  They will be talked about as heroes among their community.

The solution, however, is not to get all politically correct about it.  The solution is to call it what it is: a horrible act of desperation due to a medical condition that did not get treated.

Further reading:

1. Depression alone rarely causes suicide
2. Mrs. Doubtfire did it?

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A thought about life

As Scott and I were working out this evening trying to make our bodies stronger and healthier so we can be around when our kids are old, we couldn't help thinking of the two people in the critical care unit we worked on last night who tried to take their own lives.

"It's hard to believe someone would do that," he said.

'nough said.

The conundrum of overdose patients

I was going to write about why it's been so slow lately, but considering I set up three ventilators within the first two hours of my shift tonight I'll delay that discussion for another night.

Then again, all the ventilators were set up on patients who overdosed on one medication or another, so all of these patients should be home sleeping comfortably in their own beds instead of couped up with a tube in every orifice.

But there are certain things that are beyond our control.

Overdose (OD) pts are often a conundrum. It's not like they suffer from a disease we can cure with our tubes. However they can receive help via social workers and psychologists. Still, the ultimate determination of how they will do in the future may reside in themselves. Although the brain and how people use it is not my expertise.

Both the ODs we have this night are intentional. One is a repeat offender, and thus frustrating. Does she try to take her life because she perceives it as miserable, or is she seeking attention again and again, considering she has failed yet again. Many times when someone fails, I can't help but think they are simply seeking help.

The saying goes that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. I think of life as a special privilege -- an honor per se. Life is rare. And to simply waste it, to me, seems frivolous. And even if I had a suicide thought, I'd have too much empathy for my wife and kids and brothers and parents and grandparents who'd be distraught over my death. I could never go through with it.

But, as I've read, some people get so depressed they lose the ability to reason. But, as I said, the mind is not my forte.

Either way, here sit late Sunday evening, rather busy. The RT Bosses and those who pay the checks are happy. And, to be honest, it's really nice to have some real challenging patients for a change.

That said, minus the slight rush in the ER tonight, I should be as slow as I was the past three nights. Yet I'll take what comes my way and be happy about it.

What's a humble RT to say to a suicide attempt?

When I get called to ER to do an EKG, it's rare that I know anything about the patient before I go into the room. But it doesn't take long to figure things out.

All I knew from the point of entering the room was that she was a nice looking 23 YO female who had been crying lying on the ER bed of room three.

I pushed my machine to the back of the bed and provided my humble presentation. "Hi, I'm Rick from cardiopulmonary, I'm here to do an EKG. It's quick and painless"

"Why do I need that?" She asked without looking up at me.

"It's just to check out your heart?"

"I can tell you my heart is fine."

"Are you having chest pain?"

"No. My heart is fine."

Grasping at straws here, I said, "The doctor wants me to check out your heart. It's routine for what you came here for." I had no idea what she was here for, but I knew she did. To be honest, by this point I didn't' want to know.

"There's nothing wrong with my heart."

"I have to put stickers here, here and here," I said, pointing to areas on her chest where I would need to lift her shirt. "I can keep you covered." At this point I thought she might refuse at any moment.

"Yeah, I don't care if you see me. I don't care about anything anymore." I stared placing my stickers where I needed them, never exposing her out of respect for the young lady.

"You don't have to tell me. I don't care about anything!" She paused, then added, "I don't want to be here."

"I know what you mean." I said.

"You don't know what I mean."

Ah, how stupid. This is why I usually keep my mouth shut.

"My only regret," she continued, "was that I didn't take more. I knew I should have taken more."

What do you say to someone who tried to kill themselves. Knowing what to say is something beyond my scope of expertise, and is usually why I keep my mouth shut, do the job I'm ordered to do, and leave the room.

She's going to be admitted, I decided. And by law she was going to be kept back in the psyche unit for at least three days. And I'm certain the doctors will talk to her about this. But what if they can't talk her out of doing it again.

"Do you have children" I said.

"Yes, I have three."

"Won't your children be sad if their mommy wasn't here no more?" While she was preocupied in thought, I pushed the button on my machine.

"They live with their dad."

"Still, won't they miss you. Don't they love their mommy?"

"I don't care about anything anymore."

The nurse came back in as I was pealing my stickers off the patient. "As soon as Rick is done with you the police are going to come in and talk with you."

"I don't want to talk with them. I don't like police."

"They are really nice guys," the nurse said. "Remember, you promised me you would cooperate with all the good people who want to come in and help you."

"I don't want help," the patient said. When I go home I'm just going to do this again, and I will succeed this time."

On that note, I wheeled my machine out the door. This was another reminder to myself how well off I have it.

I always thought that if I was ever having suicide thoughts I wouldn't do it because I'd always be thinking about how much I would hurt the people who do love me, most particularly my kids. Man, could you imagine what that would do to kids.

But that's just me. However, as I am reminded from time to time, when you are really depressed, you don't think straight. And you do stupid things. You don't think that killing yourself is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.

However, my initial impression about this young lady is she was seeking attention. I will never know for sure. Either way, and even though she said otherwise, I hope that she thinks about what I said to her. I hope she doesn't do it again for her kids sakes if nothing else.

But what do I know.