The men that care…

It’s a women’s ward so a man stands out like a sore thumb here and is to be closely watched...
She is forty-something, a mother of five... She’s a sorry picture... She just lies there, a mere shadow of a human being…all skin and bones... almost not there!! Except for her abdomen which is grossly distended by the cancer growing in there, flourishing at her expense. Her eyes follow our every move. That , and the slow rise and fall of her chest are the only indicators that she is still with us. Those sunken hollows plead with us to help, to release her from her suffering one way or another...
He’s always there... He feeds her, dresses her… We talk to the patient through him, for we don’t speak her language. We ask our questions and he only occasionally has to consult her; he knows most things about her and her illness off head. We explain that we cannot operate just yet; she is very unwell, we must be sure of where the cancer is coming from and how far it has spread. He nods his understanding, tells her what we’ve said, airs her concerns and queries...
We ask, “You are her husband?”
He replies, “She is my sister.”

THEY SUFFER IN SILENCE

She’s in pain, it’s obvious. So what keeps her from asking for help? Uncertainty? Lack of familiarity with her surroundings and the systems and protocols governing it? Maybe so, but the urgency of her condition should override the wish to do the right thing here; she ought to demand for attention.
She knows this, but is still held back. Why? Because, in a society where women are not expected to be bold and aggressive, she cannot assert herself even though it would be the natural course of action. She must sit and suffer until the powers that be deem her worthy of their attention.
Or, another may speak for her-her husband. He might as well, because her current plight is his fault! Besides, he is a man; they’ll listen to him.
You think? On a ward for women, not much attention is paid to the other half of the species.
He approaches someone for help, aggressively begging, politely demanding that his wife be seen. The listener tells him something, maybe politely, maybe not. Whichever it is, the thoughtline is the same…”He is a man. What does he know about the pains of women? He’s just hysterical, as happens to most untrained men faced with a woman in this state…”
It isn't fair, is it? That a woman should sit silently till noticed at all times, whether she feels like this little life she has carried at the very core of her has suddenly turned against her and wishes to tear its way to the surface? That she should wait for her case to be pleaded by a man, one who will never experience the pain that she must endure to bring him honor?

THIS WAS BEFORE......

I wish you knew how I feel about you
I wish you even cared
Sometimes I think I should let you know
But honestly, am SCARED!!