renaissance poisson

expanded comment to this post at the geekfeminism blog:

to me a hardcore gamer is somebody who is intensely into gaming — not just into one game, but into games, plural, and into the mechanics of them, into conquering them, playing and knowing them through-and-through, and when not playing them, then discussing them with other hardcore gamers. also, games are usually a hardcore gamer’s life; their free time, their social interactions revolve around gaming. with every single one i know i cannot imagine them not gaming; it’s an intrinsic part of their existence -- at least at the time.

i see no reason why this should be limited to men, and i know a few female hardcore gamers, but very few, really. women in general don’t seem to be quite as monomaniacally into gaming, though they might be hardcore into something else, like anime, or SF, or fanfiction. or they grow out of it. so do many male gamers, but i know some who’re nearing their forties and are still at it. for the women i know it's more likely a phase.

but i've got a small sample size, and i've lost track of a lot of gamers i knew 20 years ago, and have no idea whether they are still as hardcore as ever. i certainly am not anymore, and i knew at the time that it wasn't what i was gonna do for the rest of my life.

i was really glad the doctor and gary the scot were bantering with each other and with me. i love banter, especially when i feel crappy. it distracts me. it lightens the load a little. it gives the impression that things aren't that bad, that i can laugh problems in the face. it makes me feel like i am an equal to those who're treating me; we're all people and while i can't fix an unstable heart, they can't fix an unstable debian system.

during this episode, just like in situations before when i have been a patient, it's always some men who banter, and hardly ever any women. not a single woman bantered with me this time; one bantered with gary the scot. the women were either quiet and detached / very businesslike, or solicitous. neither works really well for me, though the former works better than the latter. some detached mannerisms make me feel like i am just a thing to them that they push and pull around according to what they need, regardless of my feelings about the matter. since they're trying to help me that's acceptable, but it leaves me feeling a bit inhuman. especially when they're also careless about restoring my comfort when they leave me -- not putting the blanket back over my exposed skin, for example, not returning my glasses to me.

solicitousness is much worse; it puts me into the role of an inferior, a helpless person, childlike; it stresses that things are bad, that i am to be pitied. it focusses the attention on the problem, doesn't let me escape a little. and i feel that if i laugh, they'll feel insulted that i am not appreciative of their efforts (and they are efforts; they are wrong for me, but i always appreciate people trying to help).

i am quite certain that the detached manner makes a lot of people feel bad, but i understand why health care practitioners do it; the job can eat you alive unless you keep some degree of detachment, and it's not easy to find the right degree. i'm also quite certain the solicitous manner works very well for vast numbers of people who come to hospital scared and anxious and feeling bad for themselves. and women in health care roles do that one generally better than men. but i almost always gravitate towards men in such situations, and the ones i stick with have a hearty sense of humour. it has nothing whatsoever to do with my assessment of their competence, just with comfort.