The real reason men don’t go to the doctor...

Women of Britain, your men need you. It is, quite literally, a matter of life and death. This rallying cry was sent out by the veteran broadcaster Bill Turnbull in an emotional TV interview last week about his incurable prostate cancer, which has now spread to his spine, hips, ribs, pelvis and legs.

He explained that he had ignored warning signs in the months before his diagnosis, saying: ‘I didn’t get checked, which is why I’m in the situation I’m in now.

‘men don’t want to go to the doctor, as simple as that. I didn’t want to go to the doctor. now I’m going to the doctor all the time.’

He then went on to urge women to encourage men to go to their GP if they have symptoms.

‘If you’re worried about your dad, or your husband or your uncle … for heaven’s sake, tell them to go and get checked. It doesn’t hurt anybody and it can save you so much grief later.’

It’s true that men are notoriously bad at getting their health checked. While much is made of gender inequality in medicine — research suggests that women are diagnosed with Alzheimer’s later, they are less likely to be prescribed painkillers and are also less likely to participate in clinical trials, for example.

YeTthe brutal reality is that men die, on average, four years younger than women — and this is, at least in part, down to the fact that they tend to present with cancers later.

Indeed, with all the common cancers that affect both sexes, men are the more likely to die from it.

With prostate cancer, men simply do not want to get checked: they prefer to put their head in the sand.

Partly, men’s refusal to get help is down to a misplaced sense of stoicism that they should just ‘soldier on’.

others ignore their symptoms and simply hope the problem will magically vanish.

I’ve seen it time and time again, especially when I worked in cancer care.

In f act, what i t meant, of course, was that their cancer had progressed and was now at a later stage and required more invasive and intense treatment.

This psychological phenomenon of avoiding what could be bad news — t urning a blind eye to those niggling health concerns rather than confronting them — has been dubbed Fear of Finding out (FOFO). So many people do t his — even me.

A few years back, I noticed a strange mark on my cheek. It was no bigger than a grain of rice and very faint, but I worried about it as I have a family history of skin cancer.

I knew I s hould get it checked out.

Reader, it took me six months before I saw a GP about it and they immediately referred to a dermatologist.

Thankfully, it turned out to be nothing, but why on earth did

RESEARCH reveals that for 71 per cent of women over 40, the lockdown has increased anxiety symptoms. The known psychological aspects of menopause, such as anxiety and low mood, are the reason I’m an advocate of HRT. Overblown health scares have put many women and GPs off HRT, when it may now help.

I wait? In hindsight, it was an unbelievably stupid thing to do.

Research has shown that FOFO is a major barrier preventing people from seeking medical help — and particularly men. And I also think there’s something very specific about prostate cancer that makes men shrink away from getting things checked out. First, there’s the fact they f eel squeamish about the examination. Then, there’s the fear that if they are diagnosed with prostate cancer, they may be shunted into treatment t hat c o ul d l eave t hem impotent. They are also f earful of the emotional fall-out of treatment. The sense of l oss that some women f eel when they are diagnosed with breast cancer and have a mastectomy is well-known, with women offered psychotherapy to help them cope with this.

It is accepted that it can have a profound i mpact on how women perceive themselves and their sense of womanhood and femininity. Yet men aren’t afforded the same sensitivity when i t comes to prostate treatment that might affect their potency and their sense of masculinity.

When things such as impotence are mentioned, it’s always j ust cold statistics and never the reality of what sex after treatment is like or what to expect.

For men, the psychological effects of surgery are downplayed or just ignored.

A friend of mine who had prostate surgery said that, while he was asked about function, he had never once been asked about how he actually felt.

It wasn’t until he fell into a depression and his wife insisted he went to his GP that he was referred for psychotherapy.

I think part of tackling men’s reluctance to come forward earlier l i es i n talking more honestly about their fears for treatment and providing proper emotional support for them.

But, in the meantime, they need encouragement from those closest to them not to put their head in the sand.

Sure, they might roll their eyes and be irritable for a while, but by insisting they go to the doctor, you might save their life.

So don’t put it off. If a man you love is worried about their health, bite the bullet and demand that they see their GP.