How DeMar DeRozan changed the conversation around mental health in basketball

DeMar DeRozan tells his life story in his new book, Above the Noise. (Philip Drost/CBC)

DeMar DeRozan never expected he would spark a discussion about depression. But with a single tweet, he created a ripple effect that would change the conversation around mental health in pro sports. 

After the former Toronto Raptors player posted on social media about depression in 2018, his phone was flooded with people checking on him.

Then, other players began speaking out about the challenges they faced. Two months later, the NBA launched Mind Health, a program meant to raise awareness about mental illness in sports and making mental health a part of players' wellness both on and off the court. 

"When I hear those things, it means a lot to me because it lets you know that it worked," DeRozan said of his post.  

"I didn't know it would lead into all this, to this present day. But it was something that was obviously needed, not just for myself, but for the world, in a sense."

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What do we know about how female bodies deal with heat?

Britnee Miazek, left, speaks with Brock University researcher Stephen Cheung during an experiment to test how Miazek's body responds to extreme heat. (Stephanie Dubois/CBC)

Britnee Miazek didn't immediately make the connection between her periods stopping and her job as a second-year ironworker apprentice in Sault Ste. Marie, Ont. 

It was only after a three-month stint working on top of the coke ovens used in the steel-making process that the 35-year-old began to notice a pattern. 

"As soon as I switched jobs … my body started producing my menstruation cycle once again," said Miazek.

She describes the outdoor coke ovens "as hot as humanly possible" and believes the extreme heat they produce might have caused her periods to stop.

As our planet heats up, people like Miazek who work in extremely hot temperatures outside will be further exposed to heat, which increases their risk of heat-related health issues.

Yet, endocrinologists and researchers say there's still a lot to learn about how female bodies deal with extreme heat, especially in life-changing times like perimenopause and pregnancy. 

In new memoir, Bob McDonald reveals he was sexually abused as a child

In his new memoir, Just Say Yes, Bob McDonald charts his path from an unhappy and sometimes abusive home to Canada's foremost explainer of all things scientific. (Jennifer Hartley)

In a new memoir, CBC host Bob McDonald reveals that he was sexually abused as a child.

In the book, Just Say Yes, the host of Quirks & Quarks describes his father, Clifford McDonald, as a "monster" whose alcoholism "cast a pall over our entire family." He said the abuse happened once when he was seven years old, describing it as "the actions of a selfish, intoxicated parent."

"I was violated in the very place where I'm supposed to be safe, in my home, in my bedroom, in my bed, by the very person who was supposed to protect me," he said.

McDonald, 73, writes that he has tried therapy to deal with the negative impact on his life, and he's come to believe that the incident doesn't have to define him as an adult. That's a message he says he wants to share with other survivors of childhood abuse, and a big part of his decision to go public about it now.

At this food bank, you can get produce, test your blood sugar and get a specialist referral

Potatoes, peppers, milk and more are all available for residents at Adanac Apartments free of charge at this bi-weekly food program in Scarborough. And they can also see a nurse while they're there. (Brian Goldman/CBC)

Every second Tuesday, residents at the Toronto Community Housing apartment complex on Adanac Drive in Scarborough queue down a brightly lit hall to line up for a food bank.

But that's not all on offer here — the apartments' four-person health team is there, too, doling out groceries alongside primary health care. And their work has routinely kept residents out of the emergency room.

The team members — a concurrent disorders specialist, a nurse and two case managers — say they're trying to make care something that feels safe for residents to accept. They offer everything from blood sugar tests to chats about mental health and addictions or referrals to a specialist.  

"There's a lot of people that are just not linked to anything. So this is our way of linking people to health care," said Mark Dwyer, the program manager for Canadian Mental Health Association, who runs the food bank with Toronto Community Housing.