Butch: Why Men Avoid The Doctor

  OK ladies, your husband has a health problem, or he has been ill for some time or perhaps he suffered an injury that should be treated . . . “Dear, I think you had better see a doctor.”

   Now you likely know his usual reply, “Well, I’m not going. I’ll be OK. Don’t worry about it.”

   Believe me, my wife and I have had this conversation many, many times. I am not the only man who is too stubborn to see a doctor when I know I should. According to surveys, three-fourths of all men would rather “tough it out” than head to the doctor’s office.

   Why do we act this way? My doctor is very personable and caring. Most doctors are like that, so that’s not the reason. I was brought up in a family that very seldom went to the doctor. Like most families back then, we had no health insurance. I’m not sure if health insurance even existed at that time. A doctor’s visit was $2, and that often included free prescriptions. It usually had to be an emergency situation that could not be treated at home. Men were also raised to be stoic . . . to suffer through a condition and not complain about any pain or illness . . . you know . . . the “men are not supposed to cry” belief.

   At one time I went to the doctor’s office every so often for a check-up. Same procedure . . . (1) Check in at the window, (2) Scan the waiting room, (3) Don’t sit too close to anyone because they might be contagious, (4) Grab a magazine, (5) Casually glance around at the other people and try to guess what’s wrong with them, (6) After a half hour or so the nurse finally calls your name, (7) She checks your weight and blood pressure, (8) Then you go to an examination room and wait another half hour, (9) You look around at the equipment, pick up a brochure, and stare out the window, (10) Finally the doctor comes through the door, greets you, and begins the questioning, “How’s the family?” . . . “Great!” . . . “Have you had any health problems since the last visit?” . . . “No” (I always answer No even if I have.) . . . “Your blood pressure is slightly elevated.” . . . “Well, I’m not worried about it.” . . .”Your weight is still 170, that’s good” . . . “I exercise a lot, Doc” . . . Do you want me to do a prostate exam?” . . . “No, I’ll pass on that.” . . . “At your age you should schedule a colonoscopy.” . . . “No, I’m good.” . . . “Have you had your flu shot?” . . . “No, I don’t get those anymore. The one time I received one, I got the flu.” . . . “Any other concerns?” . . . “Nope.” . . . “OK, see you in six months.”

   Like other stubborn men, I tend to believe I am invincible and naturally healthy without any medical intervention. If I do have a health problem, I would rather not know about it. If I injure myself, I have “homemade” first aid procedures, many of which I learned while growing up in a nutty family. New products since that time also come in handy. For instance, a few years ago, I suffered a large gash across my thumb joint. I poured rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide on it until the bleeding stopped. Instead of going to the doctor to receive stitches, I squeezed the cut together, put Superglue on it and wrapped it with gauze. Problem solved! A few years ago a fellow I know who lives in Glasgow, Kentucky sent me a bottle of “Kentucky Crystal Wonder,” labeled as a “persistent binary liquid antiseptic and analgesic.” He said it was a folk medicine that is effective for small cuts, skin irritations, etc. I have used it with great success many times. If I catch a cold, which is rare for me, I drink LOTS of water, get more rest, and suffer through it . . . gone in two days top.   

   If there would happen to be something terribly wrong that I could not treat on my own, then I would eventually make my way to an urgent care facility . . . no appointment needed. They usually have a doctor intern or a nurse practitioner. I do receive a weekly check-up . . . via the self-service kiosks located near the prescription department at Wal-Mart . . . no charge!

   I know that avoiding going to the doctor is irrational and foolish at times. Some people actually enjoy going to their doctor, especially the hypochondriacs who come up with all kinds of imaginary ailments. The epitaph on their tombstone will say, “See I told you I didn’t feel good.” At 77, I seem to be in excellent health, but who knows? I could keel over deader than a mackerel tomorrow. My epitaph will read, “Should have listened to his wife.”

John “Butch” Dale is a retired teacher and County Sheriff. He has also been the librarian at Darlington the past 37 years, and is a well-known artist and author of local history.