authenticity

Letters to a young doctor... a gift from the dying

Letters to a young doctor... a gift from the dying

I have been thinking of you lately, how hard. You work on the analytical, mechanical, decisive approach to medicine. How hard you work to get the diagnosis just right so you can prescribe the right cure. I remember how that felt, and I wanted to give you a little taste of how you change over the next 25 years.

Man enough?

Man enough?

My father cannot tell me how he feels.  It is something that does not appear to be part of his make-up.  This is not unusual, it is part and parcel of masculinity.  I hear it in the office every day, spoken and unspoken.  Men who struggle to express their feelings, struggle to even acknowledge they have feelings, feelings long suppressed that are killing them.  I see it in unmanageable blood pressure, in stomach problems that defy solutions, lousy sleep, boundaries that are never set, unrealistic expectations, deep profound depression that seems to lurk just at the edges of their lives.  These men hold one thing in common, though they do not know it, they cannot speak of their feelings… ever... to anyone.