That Time That People Pretended That Women Are Not the Primary Caretakers of People with Disabilities and Complicated Medical Conditions

I stand with women who are outraged at the people pretending that women are unfamiliar with rare and unique medical conditions that may make som

I stand with women who are outraged at the people pretending that women are unfamiliar with rare and unique medical conditions that may make someone’s life more difficult than others. When the International Olympic Committee chose to ignore safety and fairness in competition there was outrage.

What occurred was dangerous unfair, and telegraphed the longstanding disdain for women in competitive boxing. The expectation that women will “be kind” in the face of unfairness wasn’t met and that drove some people irate.

As usual, people tried to explain to women with concerns that we “don’t understand”.

Not only can nearly every woman relate to this at some point in our lifetime, but women are THE primary and sole caretakers of people who find themselves in this category. This has been since the beginning of time by the way.

(Insert unamused smirk face)

How dare you!?

Women in Waiting Rooms

Just like many women of a certain age, I have a lot of logged hours sitting in waiting rooms. Not just for myself, but because I accompanied someone there.

I have more than one waiting room go bag with reading material, snacks, change of clothes, deo, little toys from the fast food kids meals for the kids who look bored out of their minds, writing pad, pen, pencil, and an mp3 player because I could use my phone but I hate to use it for that (GenX till I die). I am not new to this.

By the time we reach about 30+, women are the ones who carry medicine cabinets & first aid kits in our purses. Just in case.

As I was I writing this, the casual conversations with fellow women in waiting rooms came flooding back.

The time I met a nurse and was amused that she wrote down the condition my relative had because she had never heard of it before. She pulled out a pad and pen and asked me to spell it. She was going to look it up and research it. It was funny to me because I come from a family of nurses, teachers, and social workers. (Starting to add up those doctors now too.)

Watched them struggle through school, graduate, and become great.

So when she did that it felt like home. I smiled because it was such a “nurse” thing to do. And such a woman thing too. To take that kind of interest in a condition that may be rare but impacts lives so she had to know about it.

Yeah. That’s what I’m used to. A true blessing.

You can be talking about anyone and here they come with all these facts about a condition you don’t even know how to pronounce.

Once I was in the living room having a casual conversation with family about a woman that I had met. It was a great encounter but her background story was unique.

Suddenly, one of my cousins who is a top registered nurse says….

“Thalidomide. Yeah, those babies are from the Thalidomide scandal. That whole thing was just terrible.”

Home.

Thalidomide survivors still struggle 60 years on

Authentic Self Care

What we are talking about, some of us anyway, is fact gathering and then taking those set of facts and deciding what is fair; a core element of feminism and womanism by the way.

As for me…

Lessons were learned.

Going forward, I will no longer be entertaining conversations with people in the heat of disagreements around sporting events. We already know that these have the potential to turn barbaric-inside the home, on the street, in neighborhoods, and online.

I’m going to make every attempt to wait until we all get several more hours of sleep, food, showers, and oxygen to our brains. Give the other toxins that may have been added to the body for added “entertainment” time to expel. Let everything air out.

I’m going to show myself love and kindness by avoiding going back into that den of hell with folks because it is unhealthy, damaging, irrational, and an exercise in futility.

That show will go on without me in attendance. I’ll be re-organizing my beads…or something.

Meanwhile, reasonable disagreements and vigorous debates-also a core element of feminism and womanism-will proceed.

Dear Men, be kind.