Covering Up Our
Spiritual Tumors
by Mike Litrel, M.D.

chemistry of the brain, he argues, can be irreversible, and may lead to a life-long dependence on the medication.

Billion dollar pharmaceutical companies help fund research which supports the use of these medications, and with careful marketing to patients and physicians alike, have condoned the labeling of many painful emotions and behaviors as "disorders" or "syndromes" - each with a drug to match.

I object to this.

God designed us to feel pain for a reason. Experiencing pain is not enjoyable. But it may be necessary. I don't think that Jesus, battling human temptations and Satan in the wilderness, would have started an anti-depressant regimen to "take the edge" off the experience.

Yesterday, I saw a patient who had been in pain for a month. An ultrasound revealed a large tumor on her ovary. She will need surgery, and the tumor might be malignant. But if I wanted to take care of the symptoms only and make her comfortable, I could just give her narcotics. She would become addicted to the medication, and the tumor would keep growing. But she would be out of pain.

Sometimes the treatment of depression with medication is doing the exact same thing.

As a college student inundated with academic work and surrounded by fellow students who were different from me, I was very unhappy. But as the months passed, I came to realize that the source of my problems was of my own doing. I was not a disciplined student and I was not a loving person. My "depression" was a spiritual struggle, not a chemical imbalance in my brain that required medication because it didn't feel good. As a Christian, I became more accepting of people I did not agree with, and I applied myself diligently to my studies. I didn't feel better right away like I would have if I had popped a pill. But as the years passed I became a more mature human being.

God has designed us to feel pain. Usually it contains a message, a purpose unique to each of us. Feelings of depression and being unfulfilled may signal a time to reach beyond our home life to grow our careers. The deep frustration of middle age may call us to deepen our commitment to family. And legitimate suffering and loss may ask us simply to endure, that the experience may strengthen our compassion and service for others.

Sometimes I still recommend the short term use of antidepressants for my patients. Pain can indeed overwhelm. But I make certain we have a strategy to stop the medication. And for every patient I start on the medication, I help a half dozen wean themselves off.

In designing us for pain, God didn't make a mistake.

Dr. Litrel is an obstetrician/gynecologist in private practice with Cherokee Women's Health Specialists in Canton and Towne Lake, and is a Clinical Professor at Emory Medical School. His book on faith and health, "The Eyes Don't See What the Mind Don't Know," is available at www.doctor-mike.net. Dr. Litrel lives in Towne Lake with his wife Ann and their two sons, Tyler and Joseph. You can e-mail him at mikelitrel@comcast.net.

My journey to becoming a doctor had its low points. One of those was my college career. I went to Wesleyan University in Connecticut. Wesleyan attracted premedical students for two things - its reputation for superior academics, and a "diverse" student body. "Diversity," to my immature male eighteen year old mind, sounded great. Blondes, brunettes, redheads - I considered myself extremely open-minded.

I was shocked to discover what diversity actually meant. The campus was populated with large, thriving student groups with names like "New Age Communists," "Find the Homosexual In You," and an unnamed contingent of women who didn't shave in the customary places.

Nothing in my middle class upbringing had prepared me for this.

Feeling isolated, and soon overwhelmed by premedical classes, I felt my unhappiness blossom into full blown depression. The doctor at the University Health Center diagnosed me with typical freshman angst. I was instructed to eat right, get more exercise, and to apply myself more diligently to my studies. I can see, twenty years later, that this was good advice. It didn't work, because I didn't follow it. But still, it was good advice.

The other day, I evaluated a newlywed who wanted to become pregnant. Her health and history were unremarkable except for one thing - ever since a heartrending college breakup ten years earlier, she had been on Prozac. The psychiatrist who had put her on this medication had told her she would need it the rest of her life. My patient didn't want to be on medication, but each time she stopped the drug, she felt anxious.

In The Anti-Depressant Fact Book, Dr. Peter R. Breggin outlines the dangers of taking anti-depressant medication. Changes to the