Here is a new term I learnt, and it shocked me. Not just the term but the phenomenon: medical misogyny. It is slowly garnering attention in the West, and perhaps deservedly so.
What is Medical Misogyny?
Online sources define medical misogyny as the systematic negligence towards and downplaying of women’s health issues. Several articles cite illnesses such as endometriosis and polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), highly painful and common gynaecological issues, as ones receiving the least medical attention and care.
If this is the condition in the West, it frightens me to think what goes on, unnoticed and unquestioned, in the East.
Medical Misogyny at Home
True, doctors and medical personnel, whose ethical code of conduct involves patient care, must be unbiased in this care, be it for men or women. But if you ask me, medical misogyny, like charity, is something that begins at home.
After all, I do wonder how often we pay attention to the health of our wives, daughters, and sisters. It may be that they rarely complain about them, having been taught early not to create a fuss and draw attention to themselves. But what about when they do speak up about their suffering? Are we concerned? Do we listen? And most importantly, do we act?
My Experience
When I first came across this phenomenon, I thought it certainly didn’t apply to me. After all, when a stroke left my own wife paralysed, I took care of her. It was only when my daughter experienced something similar that I began to view it differently. In that sense, these are their experiences, not mine.
One day, my daughter returned to her marital home, complaining about a strange tingling sensation on a part of her face. Her husband, my son-in-law, laughed it off. The next day, my girl returned to her workplace with the same tingling sensation. She had barely taken one sip of her morning tea when she realised it was running off her face. She was unable to swallow it. Her co-workers had the sense to send her home immediately.
Once again, the husband laughed and called it ‘the nerves of her face tangling up’. She was later diagnosed with Bell’s palsy.
Am I Guilty Too?
A while back, I would have been tempted to say no. After all, under my roof, no one’s illnesses were ignored, and everyone received the care they needed. Or did they?
Perhaps my wife’s stroke and subsequent paralysis weren’t accidents. She had high blood pressure for several years until the condition struck her. If only I had done a few things differently, perhaps that would not have been the case. Even as I cared for them, I had a tendency to yell at the members of my family: a lot. It was considered common for men of my time and circumstances, but that hardly justifies it. And it would have undeniably taken a toll on my wife’s health, especially her blood pressure.
So while it may seem like a stretch to say I paralysed my wife myself, I cannot let go of the feeling that I could have been more caring with her to begin with. Especially after my daughter’s experience.
So I end this essay on this note: when our loved ones show signs of stress or discomfort, perhaps we should pay attention. When they complain of pain or problems, if they do, we should lend them not just our ears but our immediate action. Because the costs of medical misogyny are high. And they aren’t just monetary.