Ask Virginia Ironside
My daughter is depressed
QMy middle daughter of 35 suffers from depression and often comes round in tears, saying she doesn’t want to live. She’s never tried to commit suicide, and, having spoken to her friends, it seems as if she’s not quite as unhappy as she seems; at least not all the time. I always try to cheer her up and, when I ring her, I try to avoid the subject because I don’t think it’s good for her to dwell on it. But I am so sad that she isn’t happy. Nothing I suggest seems to make any difference. John R, by email A The saying goes that ‘You are only as happy as your least happy child.’ So you must feel very distressed a lot of the time. But I wonder what it is exactly that your daughter wants from you? Whatever it is, I don’t think you’re giving her the right answer. The first thing you’re doing wrong is trying to cheer her up. What your daughter wants is compassion and sympathy, not jokes or an exhortation to be happy. She is longing for you to ring her up, saying how worried you are about the state of her mind and offering comfort – not optimism. It would show you care and are thinking about her. What your daughter wants to know is that her distress has some effect on you. She wants to know that you love her. And not just to tell her, but to show her. As you clearly do love her, this shouldn’t be too difficult – yet it seems that for you it is.
QAt the beginning of our long and happy marriage, my wife and I chose two gold wedding rings that we wore ever after. When she died recently, hers was removed before her cremation and returned to me. I am still wearing mine but, now I’m a widower, I don’t know whether to remove my ring and place it with hers. I hasten to add I have no desire to replace my dear wife with anyone else. What do other bereaved halves do with their wedding rings?
AWilliam, by email There’s no laid-down rule. You could give it to your daughter or daughter-in-law if you have either of these; you could put it in a drawer; or you could wear it yourself. That’s what I’d do. Who cares that you might look like a Medici prince? You’ll be able to feel your wife’s presence near to you all through every day and night.
The low road to sex
QI read about the man (January issue) who didn’t want to use Viagra because of the side effects. But the problem is that Viagra is usually prescribed in big doses – 25mg, 50mg, even 100mg. From my experience, this is a hell of a shock to one’s system and can make one unwell – and celibacy is not a viable option. I had some success by cutting the pills into quarters and trying that; on many occasions, 6-10mg was enough. But recently I changed to Cialis, and a low dose works wonders – and now there are other brands one can try. Tell him not to give up, experiment, and I’m sure he’ll be successful.
AAlistair, by email I’ve had other letters from men who’ve found that other pills succeed where Viagra doesn’t suit them. And doctors simply don’t realise that one strength of pill doesn’t suit all. For instance, a quarter of a 2mg Valium knocks me for six. Other people can chuck back 10mg like chocolates and still feel like running marathons.
Can we trust carers?
QIn her nineties my mother lived in sheltered accommodation with a twice-weekly home help. She started to say the carer was stealing from her but we had no evidence and she was too frail to discuss the specifics – so we did nothing. It’s a serious matter to accuse a home help of stealing. However, when my mother died, we found that two gold rings with family significance were missing, and some smaller things, too. The only answer I can think of is to remove all valuables when a parent starts needing care, perhaps with a reminder in the drawer that the items are safe with the family. Celia, by email
AGood idea. And remember, as well, as another reader mentioned, that if the accusations are groundless, it’s possible the patient may be suffering from dementia. Derrick wrote, ‘My father insisted that I still had his front-door key from 20 years before and was stealing my mother’s cardigans and rummaging through her tights drawer. Unscrupulous relatives took advantage of his confusion and helped themselves to precious items from the house, presumably lest I appeared with the key and made off with stuff I fancied. During this stressful time, my father was admitted to a care home for dementia sufferers after being diagnosed by care workers. I wish I’d recognised those early signs.’