The ‘Man Up’ teddybear, and why I don’t need him anymore.

I’m coming around to the view that the traditional tenets of manliness that I was raised on and have embraced my whole life are bit like a teddybear that I just can’t seem to put it aside with all the other things I’ve grown out of like Father Christmas, the tooth fairy and comic books.
From the first time my dad told me to be a brave soldier and not cry to holding back my tears at my mum’s funeral last year I’ve always thought that projecting outward strength, even when you have none left inside, will get you through, Like a teddy who keeps you safe from things that lurk in the darkness.
The trouble is telling yourself to man up, screw your balls on, dig deep and tough it out just isn’t enough. I can hear some of you giving me an ironic handclap right now but stay with me.
Back in February I had an accident a work which involved gashing my knee with a draw knife. It was in the middle of a session I was running and straight away I could see that it was a bad one. I got it stitched up later that day and went home feeling like a bit of a twit.
Over the weekend the cut was giving me a lot of pain and and there was swelling round my knee. I put this down to the fact it had been a bad cut and waited for it to get better but it didnt. By monday my leg was too swollen to get my jeans on and I felt feverish and weak. My appetite had dropped off completely and despite drinking copious amounts of water I was struggling to pass it.
I put it all down to an infection that was sure to pass and reluctantly made an appointment to see the Doctor that afternoon figuring I just needed some antibiotics and I’d be fine. He prescribed them and took a blood sample and offered to make me a hospital appointment. I declined. I’ve never been in hospital since the day I was born. I’m hardly ever ill, I push weights in my garage four times a week, I’m fit and I can carry a heavy rucksack twenty miles and still have the energy to fell and split wood for a campfire. More importantly I’m also a man.
On the tuesday night the hospital called. They’d seen my blood results and they were extremely bad. Blood toxicity is measured as CRP and for a healthy person this is usually between 5 and 7, mine was 560. ‘You need to come in now,’ the Doctor told me, ‘We can send an ambulance.’
In the end I asked my ex wife, who lives in the next village to take me because in my book ambulances are for people who are dying, not strong men with a swollen knee who are feeling a bit poorly.
It was sepsis, something I'm ashamed to say I had never heard of. I spent three weeks in hospital, the first ten days of which I don’t remember very well. I had a catheter inserted and drips in both arms I’d also been told in no uncertain terms that I was lucky to be alive. My right leg was enormous by now and an ugly shade of purple and as if to compensate I had lost a tremendous amount of weight. I looked terrible.
When my boys came to visit my tears came uncontrollably. They had never seen me cry and I felt weak and utterly pathetic. I had also nearly deprived them of their father owing to a longstanding misconception that my chromosome count is a superpower.
It took three months to get back to full health including a long spell on crutches, physio and boxes and boxes of tablets that made me feel nauseous and brain-dead. There was also much time to reflect.
It wasn't as simple as deciding to be more emotionally coherent, in fact it was a bit like discovering that common courtesy, something else I was raised on, was now no longer of any value, but I’m working on it.
Part of this involves showing up for other men. That hasn’t been easy either and for anyone who persists in the belief that men are uncomplicated creatures whose needs are few and simple you’ve only got to look at the number of us who kill ourselves each year, often without ever once reaching out for help to know that this is just another metaphorical teddybear that we cling to. Another way to rationalise not asking for help.
I'd love to hear some of your 'man up’ stories and if
you're interested in issues of traditional vs modern masculinity you might be interested in joining Beyond the Mancave. There is a Facebook Group Facebook group and more importantly a Meetup Meetup group. No rituals, no role play, no 'deep work' and no pressure. We're just going to light a fire, hang the kettle and talk.
Lastly, sepsis kills thousands of people each year, if you think you might have an infected cut be a man and get it checked out at the earliest opportunity.









