Man Flu: Misery, Myth or Merely Moaning?
Do guys “flu harder”, or just cry longer? Why can’t we have both?
The BMJ has published a fascinating review about “man flu”, the allegedly exaggerated symptoms displayed by influenza patients of the male persuasion.
(Yes, I’m aware that “the BMJ” sounds like a sex act involving adult diapers, a handstand and a likely trip to the emergency room.
But it’s actually the rebranded name of the British Medical Journal, which — for those not in the healthcare field — is a journal, with medical articles, published in British. There. I’m glad that’s sorted.)
Evidently, there’s a perception that when men catch a virus like influenza, we tend to moan louder, sigh heavier and complain longer about our shtupped-up nodses than women do.
(Sadly, there’s little research on whether flu-infected men collectively kvetch more than the women stuck putting up with us while we recuperate. I’m guessing the numbers are closer on that one.)
The BMJ review — written by a man, yes, but presumably one in excellent current health! — found there’s a good reason for mens’ voluminous viral vexations: we’re delicate.
Specifically, it’s our immune systems. Which we can’t exactly buff up at the gym or flex on a crowded beach, or we totally would. But we can’t, so they wind up puny and underdeveloped. And then mean old bully influenza comes along and kicks sand in our immune systems’ faces and gives them swirlies in our bodies’ locker room toilets.
(Which are probably in the gall bladder somewhere. Or maybe the pancreas. I’m not a doctor; my anatomy is a little rusty.)
Our slap-fighting immune responses show in the data, too. Two years-long studies found that men catching the flu were more likely than women to need a hospital stay or even die from the infection. Anecdotal data from my own home also suggest that sick men will hoarsely beg for “soooooooouuup”, even when there’s no one around. And a kitchen stocked with soup twelve feet away.
None of this explains why women should be able to tolerate the sickies any better than men — but the BMJ has a likely answer. If you’re a guy, you might want to lie down and start moaning now, because it’s not good. Even worse, it’s hormonal.
Studies have been done on immune cells sucked — gently, with science straws — out of men and women, then exposed to influenza virus. The researchers found that womens’ cells fought the flu harder, if the cells were sprinkled with the hormone estrogen.
The mens’ cells, not so much. They didn’t respond to estrogen in the slightest, and the researchers tried everything. Made the cells watch Steel Magnolias. The Notebook. That scene from Ghost where they’re making ashtrays. No response. Nada. Bupkis. Not that mens’ immune cells should respond to estrogen, particularly — there’s very little of it floating around in mens’ bodies to work with.
(Plus, we’re mostly full of puppy dog tails, as I understand it. And reportedly escargot. Again, I’m not a doctor. I can’t stress that enough.)
But women squeeze out estrogen like it’s soft serve rocky road. They’re practically swimming in the stuff, and it seems to make their immune cells stronger at fighting off viruses. While perhaps also more sensitive to the virus’ emotional needs, and somewhat upset if the viruses don’t notice their kicky new hairdos.
Meanwhile, we men pump out testosterone — also a hormone, but different from estrogen. It’s grimier. Smells like engine grease and feet. Probably pees in the body’s shower when nobody’s looking. And based on other lab studies, probably not helpful to the immune system. In fact, there’s evidence that higher testosterone leads to weaker immune responses, including the beneficial response to getting a flu shot.
That’s not so bad if you’re short-ish on testosterone. But it’s terrible for, say, the Hulk. It must take him months to get over a cold. Maybe that’s why he looks so green all the time.
So it seems to be true: viral infections like the flu tend to hit men harder, for longer, because we have soft, squishy, testosterone-soaked, not-at-all-girly immune systems that struggle to fight them off. But if “man flu” is real — and the manlier you are, the fluier you get — the question is why? If testosterone makes us more susceptible to illness (and way more insufferable when we have one), then why don’t our bodies cut it out, and ooze something else? Chicken noodle soup, for instance. That would be useful.
The answer seems to be that over the millennia, testosterone has proven to be helpful enough to men in other areas — like fighting sabretooth mammoths, or opening sticky pickle jars — that it’s stuck around. For most of human existence, younger men were more likely to be killed by something toothy, huge or poisonous (or all three) than by a simple cold. Fighting off pesky viruses took a backseat to scrounging for food and propagating the species. And once you’re past childbearing age, evolution really doesn’t care much what happens to you.
(In fact, post-menopausal women, who produce less estrogen, have viral immune responses more similar to men. Evolution is a fickle bitch, yo.)
Some scientists have even theorized that men melting into blubbering puddles of fluish funk is a feature, not a bug. By completely shutting down (but never shutting up, natch) during an illness, they speculate, men might be ensuring they hide away from predators and other dangers while they’re sick. Let those mammoths open their own pickle jars for a while.
The implication, of course, is that women don’t need that sort of mechanism, because they’re smart enough to stay away from danger, whether they’re stuffed full of flu bugs or not. Also, if those scientists think “man flu” symptoms keep us out of “danger”, they’ve never seen my wife when I’ve asked eighteen times in a day for “mooooooore sooooooouup”.
So ladies, please have a heart the next time you find one of us suffering from “man flu”. It’s a real thing, and it’s really not our fault. Without testosterone flowing through us, dampening our flu-flighting fu, where would humanity be? There’d be fewer wars, less violence and football wouldn’t look anything like it does today. How would we know to mock the Cleveland Browns? It’d be all higgledy-piggledy.
So please be understanding. Be aware of our immune deficiency and our frailty, and be kind while we writhe and moan and snurfle away.
And please — please, for the love of all that is holy: bring us some sooooouuup. We‘re pretty sure we’re dying here.
