Women have power that should be appreciated

January 2003

ARIZONA -- You would probably think that this article is a rave (or a rant) about girl bands, 20 year old divas and that the whole teen glam phenomenon we are going through. It may be about the emergence of power of corporate women leaders such as Fiorina and Whitman (CEOs of HP and ebay respectively).  But it is not. This is not about the Hilton sisters or the Spice Girls, Britney Spears or Stella McCartney. This is about the true power of a woman, the power that is innate in the form of a touch and voice. A force that is a sensibility and a haven in an otherwise mad world.

 Very recently, I had to get a simple surgical procedure done to my right eyelid. Needless to say, I was unsettled and anxious. The idea of anyone, certified or not, poking with needles, knives and scalpels so close to my right eye left me incredibly uncomfortable. But I had to take that cyst out no matter what because the idea of a growth in my eye was not an option I was exactly comfortable with either.

So I show up to the appointment. There, I was met by a nurse. She was, like most nurses at these clinics, understated in dress and hair do, full of smiles and after a short glance at her chart, she ushered me to the operating room.

 The second I saw the operating table, a million questions popped in my mind: how painful is this going to be? How long will it take? Has the doctor done this before? Will I wear a patch afterwards? Can I get a rhine-stoned one please? Is the anaesthesia needle like the one at the dentist? Is it longer? I obviously had my reservations and worries about this whole affair, and I wasn’t about to stand tall and take it like a man. I just let all of my worries go in the form of little questions. Anyway, nurses don’t roll their eyes at you when you ask too many questions.

The doctor walks in. After a few unsurprisingly impersonal remarks and small talks, he started working on my eye.

The anaesthesia shots, the pulling of my eye lid, and the intense glare of light shooting straight into my eye, was only the start of it. Then it was about cutting. Throughout 90 minutes, my body was frigid, clenched in fear and anticipation of what will come next.

The doctor and nurses were quick to catch onto my uneasiness. And shortly into the routine of poke, cringe, and hand spring, the nurse intervened. And that is when it happened: the epiphany that I am writing about. Probably a revelation I had already reached as a nursing baby but had long forgotten since. My eyes were open and I realized then the essence and power of a woman and what it was about them that subdued and relaxed me.

Softly she held my hands, caressing them in a steady motion, and speaking calmly to me.  I obviously knew all along that everything was going to be fine and that the doctor was credible, but it was different hearing it from my nurse.

It dawned on me at that point that I trusted that soft voice even more than I trusted my better judgment despite an especially helpless and suffocating situation – as you can imagine being strapped to a table, with eyes forced open, and being operated on can be- I felt safe and comfortable.

The same feeling I must have had coming home from school complaining about a bully, angry at the world for making me so short, but happy that I got a big fan and support group in a mother anyway.

 I walked out of the clinic that day a different person. Eyes covered but wide open. Open to the truth that there is reason why women are mothers and why we trust them so much, and why it is so important to respect them and how delicate their role in our lives is, albeit so intangible. Ironic that the power of woman could be so intangible and hard to put into words, when it is exactly that which makes them so prevailing; a touch and a word.

Hassan Makki is a Lebanese Computer and Communications Engineer based in Arizona, USA. He wrote this article for Alternative