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Happily Ever After |
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| It was the perfect delivery. The baby’s heartbeat had continued rapid and strong throughout labor. Outside the windows of Northside Hospital-Cherokee, the rising sun was glinting off the copper roof of the gazebo, and birds were chirping in the trees. With one push, the baby’s head emerged. And a new voice was heard in the world. But these things weren’t what made the delivery perfect. It was a perfect delivery because I didn’t make a mess. It sounds trivial, but it’s not. Whatever you do as a doctor, don’t make a mess for the nurses. This was one concept they just didn’t teach in medical school. You see, someone has to clean up your mess when you are through, and I have discovered from personal experience that that person or persons will harbor ill feelings towards you if you violate this rule. And it doesn’t help if in every other way you do a good job as a physician. If you make a mess, you are a loser. For years I’ve delivered the placenta into the large basin prominently featured on the delivery set. One day, a scrub technician chastised me for using the “wrong basin.” “Why do you always use the wash basin to catch the placenta?” Lynn asked me with disgust. “Why don’t you use the placenta basin?” Wash basin? Placenta basin? I had no idea what she was talking about. But the three nurses at the delivery immediately chimed in with Lynn. Finally, someone had put me in my place. It turns out I had been doing it wrong for years. Resentment had reached its boiling point. Not only was I inconsiderate, it seems, but I was inconsiderate on purpose. My protests didn’t help matters. I was messy. I was wrong. And I was a jerk. Through the years, I have occasionally run into the same types of problems in my marriage. Ann has a certain way she wants things done. A lot of times these things fly below my radar. Far below. One example is the cloth napkins our family uses at mealtime. There are four green napkins. Apparently, they each have a different texture and pattern that offers a clue about which belongs to whom, so no one uses the wrong one. In retrospect, over the years I remember hearing questions from Ann regarding the napkins: “Why are you using my napkin?” “Why don’t you use your own napkin?” I assumed she was just kidding around. But apparently she has not been. My napkin, I have recently ascertained, is the solid dark green napkin with the “basket weave” texture. Now, the truth is I don’t want to use the wrong basin and have the nurses mad at me. And I don’t want to use the wrong napkin and have my wife mad at me. I want the women in my life to understand something: it’s not that I’m inconsiderate. It’s not even that I’m stupid. It’s that I’m a guy. And guys see things and hear things and say things and do things different than women do. I know I’m not the only guy with this problem, because I hear complaints from my female patients about their husbands or boyfriends all the time. Yesterday, for instance, a patient told me that her husband comes home and just wants to watch TV. She resents this because she feels that he doesn’t want to spend time with her. It hurts her feelings. He watches television and ignores her, no matter what she says. We spoke about this for a while. What exactly do you say to him? What does he say in return? She - Don’t you want to spend time with me? He (confused) – We are spending time together. She – You care more about watching TV than you do about me! He (very confused and becoming annoyed) – I had a hard day and I just want to relax. Guys need a little more guidance from women. Good control of a man requires direct communication, not abstract complaints. Let me illustrate. She – Honey, I have missed you today. I would like to spend fifteen minutes with you hearing about your day and telling you about my day without the distractions of the television on or the newspaper. And please give me some eye contact. Then you can watch as much television as you want. And I will sit with you in silence. He – OK. And they lived happily ever after. Or at the very least they had a nicer evening than usual. |
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