Giving Patients – Including My Brother – a Voice and Healing With Words

My family pretty much assumes I am a reporter. No matter how many times I’ve tried to explain my job, they just can’t wrap their heads around “media specialist.” And to be honest, that doesn’t adequately capture what I do anyway. I joined the healthcare communications field because, to me, words are magic. You can change a life with a story. Mend a broken heart with the right phrase. Our roles, albeit behind the scenes, are storytellers who heal with words.

It wasn't until recently that my family finally understood my job better when my brother became a storyteller for people with severe depression.

About three years ago, my “little” brother (three years younger than I) hit a wall with depression. He had been secretly battling depression for years, and, like many others, the forced isolation of the pandemic was the final straw for him.

If you had met him in pre-COVID-19 times, you would not have known anything was wrong. Ben was the essential rhythm to any party. Part DJ. Part comedian. He brought the vibe you didn’t know you needed but couldn't do without once you witnessed it. Ben was not one to talk about his feelings. At least not the dark ones. The pain he carried was probably there for much longer than even I knew about. He had become so accustomed to being that effervescence that he didn’t know what to do when the bubbles fell flat. People saw the version of himself he chose to show, and he kept the rest buried – until he couldn’t bear the weight of it anymore.

In the summer of 2020, when nothing made sense to anyone, Ben shut it all down. He closed his laptop and walked away. He took a leave of absence from work, moved in with me, and, together, we began an exhausting trial and error process to figure out how to get through it.

Those were dark days for both of us. It was difficult for him to find the words to talk about what he was going through. I became deeply attuned to the particular sound his foot made on the hardwood floor of his bedroom that might mean he would be venturing out after days of staying inside. My heart would leap. I would prepare trays of meats and cheeses, fresh baked cookies and loaves of bread for him – therapeutic intervention learned at the medical school of my Italian nonna.

Ben did eventually start talking but gone were the days of my little brother as a bright light. As we navigated a maze of doctors and medications, we had no time for laughter. He had brain zaps. Stomach issues. He traded one problem for another. I had piles of red tape to untangle to ensure health insurance coverage.

It was in those moments that the work we do every day at Real Chemistry was magnified. The “patient journey” we talk about was my brother’s life. The “caregiver” was me. I knew the lingo and the best paths to travel because of my work. It was heavy, but I knew we would find our way. I helped educate him about a totally new approach to treatment-resistant depression I had followed over the years. Working together, we were able to find the shortcuts through the healthcare maze based on my knowledge from in the industry and knowing the right questions to ask and healthcare providers to see. Together, we established an integrated care team – psychiatrist, therapist, siblings, even his nephew – all working together to tackle his depression. We were hitting that monster from all sides.

And I could see Ben’s future so clearly – that he would come through this and then help others because of his journey and the incredible human he had always been. Sitting next to him, filling out paperwork for his first treatment, I said, “I promise you that someday you will feel better, and then you will help so many others with your voice.” I knew that Ben could someday save someone else’s life.

Today, Ben is working as a patient advocate. He is a storyteller and educator, bringing his humor and light to others who are struggling, casting his words as lifelines, helping others realize it’s ok to show their pain. I listened to a recent presentation he did for the company, and he said something that will stick with me forever. Explaining the importance of the company’s work, he said, “The work you do is going to help confused and lost people like me who don’t have a big sister to help them.”

I am so proud of my little bro. Many of my colleagues have shared a beer with Ben and heard his story. If you are lucky enough to meet him, I promise you that you’ll leave feeling better about life, probably with some new bands to follow and some funny stories you’ll never be able to get just “Ben” right in the retelling. But, more than that, you will hear his war stories, because gone are the days of Ben only sharing the good. He sees each resharing as an opportunity to touch someone impacted by depression or anxiety, and to help destigmatize mental illness through his willingness to show what is really happening under the surface. It’s incredible to hear how many people he has already helped. Almost every day, he shares another story with me of someone who found hope because of him.

Beyond that, it reminds me why I joined the healthcare communications field. And why our work at Real Chemistry matters so deeply. Not everyone has the help they need. And even if they have the best support network, the healthcare system is dizzying. When Ben and I were on the case together, we found it exhausting and confusing to find our way through it. And we are expert problem solvers. In the end, it took a full team, including experts and resources, family and friends. 

At Real Chemistry, through the work we do with healthcare clients, we are helping someone’s little baby brother. Their mother. Their sister. Their friend. While we are not doctors, we have a unique power to impact lives through the stories we tell – breaking down equity barriers, destigmatizing mental health conditions and other health issues, encouraging early cancer testing, empowering patients to talk to their doctors, educating doctors about complex rare diseases. We are transforming healthcare, one story at a time. As storytellers, we can pull people back from the edge, show them the path, give them hope and empower them with the tools and resources they need. We can be their guide and help them find their way to a healthier version of themselves.

While the rest of my family may not understand exactly what I do at work every day, they know my north star is to change lives for the better through stories. Now that Ben understands the lingo we use, he will ask me about “media opportunities,” and I delight in providing him with advice on “media targets.” He has officially joined my storytelling family.

In honor of Mental Health Awareness Month, I would like to share some words from Ben on mental health. I asked him that classic interview question – what is the one thing you want readers to remember – and he shared the following:

“For me it's about normalizing depression and anxiety – making them part of our normal conversations. People shouldn't feel scared if they need help. They should feel safe reaching out and opening up when they feel lost so they can take that difficult first step to getting better – whether that means taking a mental health day or doing something more significant, like I did. Remember that employees are humans. Put aside the corporate speak and titles and connect with each other authentically.”

Make a point to reach down that long hallway and ask your colleagues how they’re doing – not just as the filler before you get to the work agenda – but ask and truly listen. Look beyond the title and realize this is a person made up of countless stories. We have incredible resources (see below) that range from free therapy sessions to personalized care and even therapy for your family members. Sometimes it just takes asking the right question to start someone on the right path. You never know who could use a simple lifeline of just a few words.

Resources for RCers

If you’re looking for resources and support, check out the internal offerings that Real Chemistry provides to employees:

• Modern Health (Global) – A confidential and complimentary program that provides counseling, support and resources delivered in a personalized card plan, including coaching and therapy sessions, to ensure we’re all taking care of our mental health.

• Mental Health First Aiders (UK) – A set of colleagues in the UK who have completed mental health training to equip them in managing their own mental health and that of their colleagues.

• AVID – This Business Resource Group (BRG) provides community, resources, education and awareness to support people with disabilities, including mental health conditions, and is open to all Real Chemistry employees.

• Additionally, Real Chemistry provides a variety of resources through our medical insurance, health savings and respective regional Employee Assistance Programs (EAP) in support of mental health.