Admittedly, the title for this piece is inspired by the For Dummies series. Now, I’m not saying doctors are dummies – I’d never say anything of the sort, being a doctor myself and having married one – but a few of us may be somewhat lacking in the, erm, emotional smarts department. While it’s possible to sail through childhood, early adulthood, med school, post-graduation, super-specialisation, and similar milestones with the emotional quotient of a stiff-backed wooden chair, marriage (fortunately or unfortunately) poses a different kind of challenge.
You see, marriage is a lot like the field of medicine itself – it’s complicated, demands time and energy, and without proper attention can quickly spiral into a crisis. Naturally, the skills required to survive both are similar: one must endure long hours (tedious day-night matches, for example), unpredictable emergencies (yes, chipped nails qualify), capricious colleagues (or in-laws); all while maintaining an outward demeanour of equanimity and competence – and resisting the urge to communicate in barely legible scrawls or barked orders (even though those are often easier to understand than long, emotionally loaded diatribes).
So, dear readers, based on my personal and professional experience, here are some prescription-strength tips for surviving marriage, especially if you and your partner married your stethoscopes long before contemplating human companionship.
- Any procedure, however small, begins with informed consent. The same goes for marriage. Apart from consent for the obvious (I trust I don’t need to spell that out), it’s important to seek consent for life-altering decisions—whether it’s buying a new sofa, adopting a pet, or inviting/imposing your parents for long visits.
- History taking is not a good skill to use in arguments. Don’t clarify onset, duration, and aggravating factors when your spouse is upset. Your questioning will itself become an aggravating factor.
- Don’t overthink the differential diagnosis to statements like “I’m fine.” Don’t offer a diagnosis. Don’t offer anything at all. In fact, don’t even…speak. Or breathe. Accept that treatment is futile, and beat a hasty retreat.
- Rounds at home aren’t the same as hospital rounds. A breakfast tray delivered with a smile may be more appreciated than a serious delivery of follow-up questions first thing in the morning.
- Love and time are best prescribed in small, daily doses, not in massive once-a-year loading doses.
- Tracking vitals is crucial in the ICU, but don’t chart your spouse’s habits. Especially don’t bring up past history (whether relevant or not). Doing so may land your marriage itself in the ICU.
- Sometimes, the best therapy is discharge. Step away from the humdrum of hospital life and escape together for some quality ‘we time.’ Bonus points if it feels like discharge against medical advice.
- Treat your marriage like your on-call shift. Expect the unexpected. Give it your full attention. And keep strong coffee (or a stiff drink. Or three) at hand to survive.
That’s my two cents’ worth, as someone with experience in treating marital issues. As I sign off, I must contemplate how best to conclude my ongoing cold war with my dearest husband. I already have my child, my sister, my pet, two neighbours, and three aunts firmly on my side. I think the odds might just be in my favour.
