The sun rises on a new day even after a relentless series of bad events and reversals of fortune. I spent most of the last three days going back and forth to the hospital. I can’t tell you who is in the hospital, or even what kind of hospital. It is not me this time. And there is a stigma that goes with this kind of hospital stay that can darken the rest of your life. People generally accept that cancer and heart attacks are not a punishment for bad behavior. They seem to think, however, that depression is somehow a matter of poor choices and immoral practices.
Treating depression is not voodoo or a matter of opinion. It is science. Swiftly improving and ever-more-complex science. And nobody is dead or dying. So I am going to get my family through this awful thing.
Besides, I am Mickey. How do you permanently bring down a purple-furred mouse-man with a goofy grin? Of course, the relentless pounding of multiple misfortunes is a start. Still, there has to be a joke I can tell or a song I can sing that will solve it all.