By: Dr. Tomos Land, Trainee Father-o-trician
When growing up, it’s pretty common to think of your dad as the strongest man in the universe. If your dad is anything like mine, his viking beard, shiny bald head, and gigantic frame are enough to convince you pretty quickly that if anyone gets a pass on their yearly physical (and a tab opened automatically at Home Depot), it’s probably this guy. As you get older, and start to notice how he groans every time he sits down, or wakes the entire house up with his signature morning cough — his mortality slowly dawns on you. Still, he puts off every doctor’s visit, until finally, one day, you find out why — he’s never had anyone tell him it’s OK to look after his health!
Now, realizing that he is not in fact invincible and that I’m actually dealing with a sensitive soul hiding inside the body of a bricklayer, things feel different. Getting my dad and the millions of other health-phobic fathers out of the bathroom and into a health clinic is now my life’s work. Getting the old boy into a doctor’s office is akin to pulling teeth, and please don’t even get me started on scheduling dental visits. As a result, I have compiled a short overview of my tried and tested techniques for tricking (some may call it manipulating), the most stubborn man you know into seeing the doctor.
The first tactic is to lull him into a false sense of security. Find out what his favourite pastime is and go from there. For instance, subtly mention that you are just heading out to do some a bit of yardwork for an elderly neighbour. After piquing his interest, put your phone on do not disturb, find the most hideously botched lawnmowing job you can get from Google, then send it to him an hour later with the simple message, “Does this look good to you?”
Then sit back and let the chaos ensue. When he arrives at the location you have shared, unable to resist an opportunity to fix your mistakes, he conveniently finds himself walking through the back door of the family doctor’s office, unwittingly and unconsciously resigning himself to a fate he has for so long been trying to avoid.
If unsuccessful in tactic number one, turn instead to a foolproof second option — bribery. The blood bank had it right when they started offering biscuits to donors, and this is the type of energy you have to tap into. Find his weakness, and exploit it. He likes sports? Tell him an ex-pro is now training to be a family doctor at your clinic. Does he like model train sets? Then he better know Francis Bourgeois is now training to be a family doctor at your clinic. Is he a sucker for a drink? Tell him that your local walk-in clinic is also a sports bar. You get the point. Lie, lie, and lie again. Anything to get him to realize that going to the doctor is a HEALTHY thing to do as a man!!
Finally, my third and favourite method is the secret barbecue. I tell my dad I’m coming home for the weekend, that the weather is nice, and that all my friends have heard what a magician he is on the grill. Simultaneously, I plaster flyers around SFU offering free food to the new med students willing to diagnose Big Papa. Inevitably, the weekend ends with my dad chilling in a loose robe, just not the kind he originally had in mind.
All this is say that — to all the fathers out there — going to the doctor is OK.
