“Consult a psychologist urgently”

08–12.04.2013

The New Times continues to follow the story of a man who received a terminal diagnosis*

* Continuation. Beginning at Nos. , 38 , 39 , 40 , 41 , 42 , 43-44 for 2012, Nos. 1 , 2 , 3, 4 , 5, 6 , 7 , 8 , 9 , 10 , 11 , 12 37 2013 for G.

I rarely see oncopsychologists, but every time I always cheer them up. The first time we met was during the second line of chemotherapy: the doctor was collecting material for her dissertation, so she interviewed all the inpatients in a row, increasing the sample. I honestly answered all her questions, noting that in general I have no complaints about my lymphoma. This made the doctor completely delighted - as it turned out, in her sample there were very few people who know how to have a positive attitude towards cancer. So I turned out to be such a valuable person for science that they even showed me to an old academician. This is where it ended.

And then she called me again! It turned out that she was writing some kind of scientific article, and so she again needed a cheerful dying of cancer. I immediately pleased her right away, right on the phone: I said that I was married, that I was being treated in New York, that I was writing a column in a magazine. We immediately agreed that I would fill out a lot of tests for her, and then we would talk about the results on Skype.

It's nice to be useful for science.

Meanwhile, for several weeks now I have been suffering greatly: at first I ruined another article in a magazine, I practically stopped sleeping, it became difficult to concentrate on the topic, to conduct a normal, ordinary discussion. And then I thought about a very simple, but for some reason unobvious thing for a Russian person: “Maybe I should see a doctor?” All my experience in the field of psychology came down to hearing stories about the punitive psychiatry of the Soviet era and the oncopsychologists of the Russian Oncological Research Center studying me as an exhibit of the Kunstkamera. Nature resisted.

So I first found and passed the tests. It turned out that I had developed the classic “clinical depression.” It is characterized precisely by its invisibility. But the test insistently advised: "See a doctor immediately!" And I did something that until recently I could not expect from myself: at the next appointment, I told the oncologist: “You know, I have some new symptoms here ...”

“This is not surprising, because you have cancer, you are alone here! I’ll write a prescription, it will help, but if there are any problems, be sure to tell me!” For two years of cancer treatment in Russia, I have never had a desire to seek help. Not because it wasn't needed. It was just that psychologists rarely met and were busy only with their dissertations.

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