In a historic medical plot twist, health guidance now says men should be treated when a vaginal condition is in the room, as opposed to standing in the hallway pretending to browse gum. After decades of arriving at biology like uninvited glitter, male partners have been formally asked to meet the moment and, yes, the pharmacist.

For years, the policy was BYO antibiotics for the person with symptoms and BYO podcast for the guy. It was medicine as a potluck where half the guests brought a fork and called it ‘contributing.’

Vaginas, which have been quietly running a 24/7 microbiological startup since birth, responded with a press release: ‘Finally.’ Their union, Yeast I/Yeast All, added, ‘If you share the ecosystem, you share the responsibility—wipe your feet and your flora.’

The evidence came from a trial that did the wild, avant‑garde thing of treating people who share fluids like they also share outcomes. Recurrences dropped faster than a wellness influencer drops the words ‘toxins’ and ‘moonwater’ into a smoothie. The control group received the traditional male regimen of optimism and a shrug.

Pharmacies are adjusting end‑caps accordingly, sliding the condoms over and installing a gentle sign that reads, ‘It’s not about blame; it’s about team projects that count for grades.’ Somewhere between pregnancy tests and discreet partner treatment kit for BV, a man named Kyle realized he, too, was on the syllabus.

Initial male reactions have ranged from ‘Me? But I feel fine,’ to ‘Is this because of my four‑in‑one shampoo?’ Gentle reminder: symptoms are not a vibe check, and the immune system is not a podcast you can skip to the ad read.

Congress immediately held a hearing titled, ‘What Even Is a Microbiome, And Can It Vote?’ After several hours of mispronouncing Lactobacillus like a Roman centurion, lawmakers bravely recommended thoughts, prayers, and one nationwide pamphlet stapled to a bar napkin.

The wellness industry pivoted faster than a Pilates reformer, unveiling the ‘Couples Cleanse,’ a 10‑day plan where you both hydrate, take your meds, and pretend kombucha is a personality. For those keeping score at home, please ignore the crystal suppository and consider a boring, effective option like an at-home vaginal microbiome test kit if you insist on turning health into a scavenger hunt.

Tech bros launched an app called Bro‑Biome, which gamifies adherence by awarding badges for not being a petri dish. Push notifications include, ‘Your partner took her dose; your turn, hero,’ and, ‘No, rinsing is not treatment, it’s weather.’

Gyms reported an uptick in men asking if deadlifts count as antibiotics, which is adorable in the way raccoons washing cotton candy are adorable before consequences intervene. Scientists confirm you cannot bench‑press bacteria into enlightenment, but you can bench‑press while following directions like a civilized organism.

As ever, the rule is simple: treat the team, not just the MVP, unless your sport is ‘Recurring Infection,’ in which case congratulations on your dynasty. Evidence is the least sexy word in the language, and yet it keeps getting us invited back to health.

So yes, gentlemen, the RSVP box now reads ‘Will attend and will be treated.’ Bring nothing but yourself, your prescriptions, and the humility of a man who finally read the group project email—because the BYO antibiotics era is over, and the glitter is tired.