It used to be that men were these remote, disinterested figures who paid little mind to the affairs of women and children. Fathers provided; doctors cured; dentists drilled; teachers taught and that was that. That no longer seems to be the case anymore — not in my generation, at least.
Last week, my 10-year-old daughter went through a tear duct procedure under general anesthesia and she was anxious in the hours leading up to it, repeatedly asking how a metal probe can possibly go through the soft and narrow tear duct without harming anything along the way. I was way beyond the anxious state, hovering between emotional catatonia and coma, digging deep to put up a brave front so she wouldn’t panic.
As she was wheeled into the operating room, Dr. Alfonso Bengzon, her surgeon, and anesthesiologist Dr. Jose Banzon gave me permission to suit up and hold my daughter’s hand into the operating room until the anesthesia took effect. After she had settled onto the operating table, she couldn’t fight the tears any longer; neither could I.
But here’s the remarkable part: while busy prepping the anesthesia, Dr. Banzon dropped what he was doing, pulled up a stool directly above my daughter’s head, cupped both her cheeks, and said, “I have a daughter too, and when she is afraid, she prays.” He stroked her cheeks repeatedly, whispering, “Everything will be okay.” He stayed in this position — holding her — until she fell asleep.
Before she fell asleep, Dr. Bengzon, who was waiting to perform the procedure asked about her school, her hobbies and her friends. Finally finding common ground — a classmate of hers who had been his patient too — the doctor said, “I had to treat Amanu after his playground swing accident; that was a complicated surgery. Yours is not at all. This will be very fast and I will see you in a while.” My daughter woke up with a fully functioning tear duct and two brand new, professional adult male BFFs.
The evolution of the strong, silent male from a generation ago is a revolution of sorts. I grew up with friends who rarely saw their fathers at mealtimes; with doctors who asked what was wrong, checked your insides and cured you; with dentists who had masks as convenient excuses to not talk to you while numbing your gums and extracting your rotten tooth; with teachers who gave you a truckload of homework assignments and scoffed at questions. And this is all that was expected of men: that they do their jobs and do them well.
But men are now more hands-on, in the home and on the job. Recently, an unexplained virus downed me for a week. A young doctor at the emergency room put me through a thorough physical exam and a detailed Q&A to trace the origin and possibly identify the strain of the virus. He explained every possible medical condition I might have contracted, every possible implication, and every possible protocol. He then assured me that all would be well and that he would extend his duty hours until I felt relieved of the symptoms. He supervised the blood extraction and waited on a stool by my bedside minding his BlackBerry until the lab results came through.
The following day, I was sent to an elderly cardiac specialist to rule out a heart condition. He must have been 70, which thrilled me because I enjoy having conversations with people in this wisdom-filled, advanced age. But this doctor wasn’t talking. He picked up his stethoscope, listened to my heart, and tapped my upper back first with his fingers then with his palm before prescribing some potent painkillers and sending me on my way — not an extra word spoken, not even a smile. It was such a ‘70s moment. (Not that I didn’t appreciate the painkillers.)
I think the health care industries have been somewhat revolutionized by this “nurturing man” movement. It has only been in the past two decades that male nurses bloomed in number. The “male nurse” disconnect no longer exists. Nursing, by nature, is all about nurture — whether it’s a man or woman doing the nurturing.
It’s remarkable, too, that in the last decade, pregnancy has ceased to be a woman-only phenomenon. It has become a collective job for woman and her partner. Couples mutually claim the experience: “We are pregnant,” or “We are expecting.” The implications of this are comforting, especially for the once-solitary and often trying nine-month journey of mothers-to-be. It didn’t stop there, though. Dads have never been as hands-on as they are today. Everywhere, it seems —PTA meetings, dress fittings, soccer games, doctors’ appointments, at the park, in the mall, in theaters — odds are great that the person next to you will be a father.
In service industries, men have adopted a more caring, attentive tone. Men along with women now handle customer service booths and hotlines. Who would have thought back in the ‘70s that men would ever be willing to sit and listen to others rant and complain?
Last week a Fox TV news report on the Aurora, Colorado shooting showed that three men had died shielding their girlfriends from gunfire. One supposedly jumped into the line of fire to spare his girlfriend. Another pushed his fiancée to the ground and got hit at that split second. Another threw himself on top of his date as a human shield.
Are we entering a new era of male gallantry? Or are men finally learning to be as caring and giving as women?
* * *
Thank you for your letters. You may reach me at cecilelilles@yahoo.com.