On Thursday, I met with N. The experience was powerful and confounding. I commenced jotting notes to myself in an attempt to unpack what had taken place. This series of posts reflects the trajectory of that day, and my associated analysis.
 

I am unsure how we arrived at this topic. I believe we were discussing pharmaceuticals prescribed by our physicians. N was aware that I have refused medication. I was unable to offer her an immediate explanation for this refusal. When writing this series of posts, our conversation came to mind. It triggered a set of recollections. This is the explanation I was unable to give to N.

Immediately after Colin was born, my wife began to display some form of psychological distress. She commenced to see a Doctor for her problems and was prescribed medication to treat her condition.

I remember a meeting we had in our dining room. She was obviously “out of it” in some way, with an evident slowed response. She asked me if I noticed any change in her behaviour. I lied and told her no, she appeared normal.

I have a small list of events that, if I could go back in time and alter, I would do so. This lie sits near the top of that list.

The lie was one of those white lies that we tell each other while assuring ourselves we speak the truth. I had great confidence in the medical profession. I believed the Doctor had performed an accurate diagnosis. I believed the medication was important to my wife’s recovery. I wanted her to be well. The best means to achieve this goal was to ensure her continued confidence in her physician and the therapeutic value of her presecribed medication. Saying anything which created mistrust of her doctor, or caused her to refuse her medication, seemed wrong. So, with the best of intentions, I lied. And have regretted it ever since.

The regret has less to do with any concern over the pharmaceutical industry and the quality of its products (though those concerns do exist). It has less to do with the quality of medical care and the professional competence of my wife’s physician (I also have these concerns. These are not due to my wife’s condition. They derive from my recent experience of the health-care system, and Dr X).

What rankles me about my behaviour is that I was with someone who had placed their trust in me. I had betrayed that trust. It is one thing to lie about Santa Claus and how the tricycle got squeezed down the chimney. It is acceptable to tell a nosey neighbour an incomplete narrative; there was no requirement to make full disclosure of the internal workings of our household.

But, at the time of this incident, I was with someone I loved. Someone I cared deeply about. Someone who had placed their trust in me. And I betrayed that trust.

I don’t want to ever make the same mistake.