If you're a good Catholic like me (or, simply a fan of science fiction, as sometimes 
the two overlap-- sorry, Grama, but it's true), then you're probably familiar with the concept of "Stigmata". They are the bodily marks and sores that can miraculously (sometimes fraudulently) appear on a person's body, on the palms of their hands, their feet, and their sides-- much like the mark that Jesus bore after his crucifixion.
Of course, the word "Stigmata" comes from the root word of "Stigma" (I promise, this post is not an entomology lesson, nor is it an attempt to convert to you Catholicism); and this week (ahhh, now she gets to her point!), I came across a man who bore the "Stigmata".
No, not literally.
What I mean is, this man was marked. Set apart. Different. On the verge of being ostracized.
Why, you ask? What marks did he bare that made him a pariah?
Well, my friends he was a male... nurse.
All right, quit hurling barbs at me. I know that to say that a male nurse carries a certain stigma is incredibly politically incorrect. I get that. But whether you think that yourself or not, the fact of the matter is, many people do. Case in point? My father.
You see, my dad absolutely hates going to the doctor. He's old school like that; he thinks seeking medical advice from a licensed professional is akin to admitting personal weakness. While I'm off researching top online nursing programs (because, quite honestly, I've always been drawn to the medical field, even though I can't stand the sight of bodily fluids and would never, ever be able to pursue a career in the industry), my dad is finding 10,000 excuses to avoid his regular prostate exam.
Finally, though, the excuses ran out and he had to go.
As my mom tells it (because my dad will not retell the exact events of that traumatic day), my dad walked into the doctor's office with the same expression one might wear to his own funeral. He hesitantly gave his name to the waiting room attendant, then sat down in a doctors-office-issue-only-partially-comfortable chair to await his fate. After a few minutes, he heard his name called... by a male voice.
At that point, so the story goes, my dad looked up to see a man about my age (yes, 
I'll still openly admit my age in public-- I'm 28) wearing scrubs waiting for him at the door. When my dad spotted this gentleman, he looked at my mother with an expression of shock and apprehension; surely, that boy cannot be the gatekeeper to the doctor's lair.
You see, my dad is a relic (ahhhh, another Judeo-Christian word!); he thinks that all businessMEN are MEN, all teachers are WOMEN, all doctors are MALE, and all nurses are FEMALE. It's how the world works to a man who was conservatively raised during the 1950s. He doesn't care that a growing number of applicants to nursing schools and online nursing programs are male. He doesn't care that women (including a dear friend of mine who routinely reads this blog) comprise the majority of med school students these days. He still has very old-fashioned, pre-defined ideas about gender in the workplace.
Ultimately, Todd (my father's male nurse) was able to get my dad's blood pressure (high, like always), check his weight (again, high), and ascertain other vital medical stats necessary to begin the appointment. He then handed my dad over to the doctor (a man; ahhh, all was right in my father's world) for his prostate exam (here is where I'm very happy that my father is not a detail-oriented story teller, as I am blessed to say that he did not share the nitty-gritty of this part of his appointment with my mom).
It's ironic that my dad has such rigid rules for what men and women can do on the job, because growing up, he never-- not once-- made me feel like I couldn't do something because I was a girl. Heck, this is the man who basically mandated that I take karate so I could stand up for myself when push came to shove. Yet, there are times when his reactionary opinions on the battle of the sexes absolutely shocks me. I guess I should chalk it up to the era into which he was born... you know, before another E.R.A. (the Equal Rights Amendment, for you non-history majors out there) changed everything.
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I'm cracking up over here... Like you, I was raised to be very open-minded in regards to many things - from race relations to career choice.
However, I will never forget the day that I learned my parents did not believe all they taught. I was a freshmen in college & totally dumbstruck.
It was a primetime for my mom to say "This is where we say - do as we say, not as we do"
And I LOVED how you described your father's appointment... :)
ok, you sucked me into leaving a comment :) i actually LOVE male nurses. i wish there were more of them and i hope that the economic recession encourages more men to let go of the cultural bias against male nurses. most of the men who would be nurses right now tend to be paramedics or PAs. i worked with almost only male nurses at the Navy hospital and they were fantastic!
having worked with both- i generally find male nurses to be much more patient and often more compassionate than female nurses. maybe because only men that really love nursing choose the field. its also really helpful to have their strength around in a lot of situations- moving a patient from bed to bed, etc. i don't know, i am a little biased and just prefer to work with men :) way less drama!
as for male doctors- even though i will be a female doctor, there are situations where i kind of prefer a man and then others where i like a female doctor. i have thought a lot about why. i think when you are really vulnerable position (surgery etc.) it can be very comforting to imagine your life being managed by this big strong doctor who will solve all of your problems. they look.. heroic (just check out your local ortho department :) ahh... love looking at them.. ). i have noticed a lot of women in those fields are in really good shape and give off a similar vibe. that being said- sometimes the more personal and talky approach of a female doctor is exactly what a situation needs. i think that they take better histories as a generalization and project that they "Care" about you a little better. there are plenty of men that do this very well too.
if you are thinking about the medical field though- i would NOT choose nursing personally. the hours aren't great and the working situation can be difficult. i think they told us something like 50% of nurses quit their first job after the first year. i don't know much about the culture, but the saying is that they "eat their own". i would choose PA school or a nurse anesthetist degree. both great jobs with little training and some independence.
I'm chuckling at this post, girl. I JUST had a conversation with Chris about how our parents did such a great job of faking things growing up. Like Ali, college is when it hit me that what my parents taught me was not exactly how they actually lived out life in some instances.
P.S. Can't wait to see you (in person) next weekend! We can celebrate our new employment statuses. ;)
LMAO!!!!
I wish I had been there to see your dad's face!!!
priceless!
There are many similarities between your Dad and my Dad in this respect it sounds like. And similarly, somehow my Dad was able to conceal all these "nasties" when I was growing up, but they have definitely come to light in my adulthood. Like, I never heard him say anything racial growing up. But that's really come to light in recent years, and I HATE it, it embarasses me. But he did a great job not "teaching" that to me growing up. I do think a lot of it can be blamed on their upbringing. But it still isn't a good enough excuse to forgive it, if you ask me. So I get on him about it a lot, and remind him how he was so careful not to raise me to be like him...and that he should try to change his own ways too.
Ahhhh, I loved this post and at some level this is my everyday. Although my profession (high school teacher) is about 60/50 male and female, my subect area is not. I am one of two female teachers in the history department (the other 13 are "the boys"). Even in college I was always one of the few girls sitting in the upper level history classes, and one of the only girls in the history ed program. I remember going on interviews and people telling me I was the only female candidate considered. Yet there is something to say for that. I love "my boys', I like that on my floor (we are broken up by subject areas in my school) that the door is always held for me, I like being different!n It is just tough when people question my content knowledge as though I might not know about history or war because I am a chic...well that is until I show them just how capable a little ole girl can be!