Whenever I think of men’s health, I reflect on my dad’s attitude towards his health. Growing up in rural Moruga in an agrarian community with my parents working as small farmers to sustain us, health and medical interventions were not high priorities. If we had an emergency, we would take care of it. We were vaccinated and got seasonal shots as recommended, but beyond that, I do not remember much issue being taken with health.
Daddy seemed to have very little interest in visiting a doctor. He was generally in good health, in my estimation, but within our home, we knew he had an ongoing condition that no one spoke about. On many occasions, I wanted to ask my mother about the issue, but that was a wall that seemed impenetrable, a discussion unwelcome in our household.
My dad was vocal about doctors’ visits and hospitalisation, too. There is no memory of him visiting a doctor for any reason, and he would always say if he were ever hospitalised, he would return home in a coffin. And so he did.
November 1990, having been alive for two World Wars, one attempted coup d’état, and many other world events, my dad spent two nights at the San Fernando General Hospital and returned home, as he predicted, for his funeral service.
I always reflect on how very little involvement we had with him and his health issues, even as he worked with my mother to provide for our family. When I went to the garden with them, I always observed my mother as the one who seemed more resilient working in the sun but never thought of the fact that daddy’s health may have affected our living circumstances.
I was clothed, sheltered, and fed and really did not have much to compare my life to until I got to secondary school in the 1970s and saw standards of living above that of a small farming village. Even so, it took a while before I considered that many of those families were doing better because the father was gainfully employed.
As I began advocating for men’s health some years ago, the financial impact was not uppermost in my mind. I had not at first considered a man’s employment, employability, or lack of earning as the main impact on a family’s well-being and the foremost reason why men’s health is deemed family health in literature.
I probably do not have this reference too, having lived as a single woman raising a child singly and not having the reference of a man’s earnings impacting my living situation.
When I think of men’s health, I mostly begin at the place where men, in a societal expectation of being strong and not showing emotion and a socialisation that says they cannot appear weak, are afforded less opportunity and space to care openly for their emotional needs.
I get that a man’s well-being can determine a family’s stability. That as providers, their overall physical health impacts on the financial, emotional, social and spiritual conditions of their partners and their children, and their stability and security. But mostly when I think of the family situation, I think of the negative effects families experience because the mental and emotional well-being of men is ignored.
Often too, that socialisation which acts against men addressing their physical and mental health issues creates significant stress for them, which in turn impacts relationships and also promotes other adverse situations in homes.
As I read of menopause and perimenopause issues becoming part of T&T’s mainstream health landscape and the need to have women feel “supported, informed, and empowered”, I wondered about the prevalence of the unmet needs of men’s reproductive health and hormonal issues and other preventive healthcare interventions.
As a public health practitioner, I am always thinking and observing how women’s health issues garner so much more investment and emphasis. It is similar to how medical science has skewed our interest in our physical health to the detriment of our mental health, and how the latter is forever playing catch-up.
This is November, or in the world of men’s health, “Movember”, inspired by the 2003 campaign in Australia that brought back the moustache (“Mo”), using the fad to raise funds for men’s health. Now, this campaign has evolved into a global event. As well, November also marks International Men’s Day (November 19), a global celebration highlighting the issues of boys and men.
Movember was inspired by a friend’s mother, who was fundraising for breast cancer, which in turn prompted a few men to campaign for men’s health, specifically prostate cancer and depression.
Today, the campaign has been expanded to support men’s health in four key areas: prostate cancer, testicular cancer, mental health, and physical inactivity. November opens a space for us to both celebrate men and highlight issues that impact their well-being.
I consider it family health, given the role women must play in encouraging men to seek care, supporting them without judgement, and breaking the cycle that does not “permit” a man to be sufficiently vulnerable to seek help.
