Healthcare

Anon

I work in the NHS and what I do is important for patients. In a work conversation a male colleague who is highly respected and educated commented about how he had been thinking about and really appreciated my cleavage from a private social event that had happened. Not that I should have to justify myself, but I wasn’t even wearing anything that revealing, it was just a dress that was more fitted than my usual workwear. Then I feel cross with myself because even if I had been wearing something more revealing, nothing would give him the right to comment on that. These are some of the emotions I am feeling tonight. I can’t sleep thinking about it but I really need sleep because I am exhausted and have work deadlines. Angry Pissed off Guilt/shame/self blame Anxious Fed up Scared Responsibility and weight of future women to stand up and say not ok Responsibility to honour the courage of previous women who have stood up and said it’s not ok Shocked he would think this is ok, that they have the right to do this Burden/ I have a lot of stress and going through some significant life events right now and honestly don’t need this extra shit to think about, to think about how to uphold the responsibilities, stand up for myself but also protect myself from potential future consequences of doing it. Internal arguments about whether I should do something, bargaining -maybe they didn’t mean it, maybe they don’t realise (although how someone who is very highly educated doesn’t realise) Honestly this is the tip of the iceburg. It is a surprisingly direct l comment that I am able to explicitly label as sexist. A lot of the behaviour at work is difficult to label sexist because it is insidious and individually you probably can’t label each item as sexist but when you think about it together, you think it is. It is a common feeling amongst the women at work. Senior leadership know it is and yet have not done anything meaningful to tackle it. I’m not sure they know how. How do you tackle something that is so entrenched in people’s behaviours? There is a lot of male power by middle and older me , there are maybe 5-10 men in non-senior positions in a staff of a few hundred. Although I have large experience in an area, I was ignored, undermined and publicly criticised by senior male colleagues on a project team. I have been given excellent appraisals so this leads me to think it must be not be to do with my skill set but bias against my gender and age. Just tired of dealing with this extra emotional burden on top of trying to do a good job. .

Erin

When I was waiting in the office to get my Covid vaccination, one of the workers made me very uncomfortable, standing far too close to me (even when I moved away) and talking to my male friend about my vaccination, not me. He made a comment along the lines of ‘ah, women these days’. When I was clearly offended, and told him never to speak to me like that, he said ‘calm down, it’s just a joke’ So upsetting that I can’t even get a vaccine without worrying about sexist jokes or men not respecting my personal space.

Emily

No menopause clinic in Bristol and no GP with training

Roisin

I was sent links by my nhs provided (outsourced to private) physio after a call diagnosing a frozen shoulder. On the PhysiApp I was told to download Pure Physiotherapy had a variety of exercises all by the same woman in short shorts and a tiny crop top. I have no problem with women and do not want what they wear to be policed, but it made me uncomfortable that someone had told this person to wear this outfit and my first thought was that they wanted it to encourage injured men to do their exercises regularly by exploiting a woman and objectifying her.

Sealskin

My (male) doctor told me that his favorite part of doing my yearly physical was the pelvic exam. (The female nurse and I looked at each other with horror.) It was ten years before I went another pelvic exam.

yun

About half a year ago I had a very strong migraine attack that lasted throughout the night, so I hardly slept. In the morning I called my usual clinic, but they were fully booked and I badly needed a painkiller shot, so I had to visit a local practitioner I’ve never been to before. The moment I entered his office, he asked whether I had children, and immediately declared that my migraines were surely caused by a hormonal disfunction caused by not having any yet at 33 (he’s not seen any of my medical documentation). After I told him I’ve been having them for years and I’m not on birth control, he gave me the painkiller, but when I asked for a doctor’s leave for the day, which is something he should have advised himself (we don’t have sick days in my country, you need to get doctor’s recommendation), he faked being surprised that I work and started a mini-lecture on how I should quit my job right away, and use my womanly charms to have my husband work harder and make more money, because working is for men, and women are meant to be loved, stay at home and make the world prettier. I was too weak, tired and dumbfounded to respond, so I just smiled and left when he was done. I’ll never go to him again.

med student

Things healthcare professionals asked me after I was raped at age 16: – If I had been drinking – If he “jumped from the bushes” (direct quote) – What I was wearing – If I said no – If I physically fought back Not that any of this matters, because victim-blaming is never okay, my story doesn’t include most of the usual stereotypes. I was stone-cold sober, in a jumper and jeans, and he was someone I knew very well. It happened at a private space behind closed doors, so I wasn’t “out too late”. But the real problem is when professionals in our healthcare system, the very people who are supposed to take care of you, perpetuate these stereotypes. 90% of people are raped by someone they know, often a family member or a friend. Healthcare professionals meet vulnerable people as a part of their job. Communicating with someone in the right way about such a difficult topic is important, as the way you are made feel by someone you trust can shape your perception of what happened, your responsibility and worth. In my case, a doctor made a teenager feel ashamed and responsible for what happened.

B. B.

When interviewing a potential new (*male*) surgeon for my Stage IV endometriosis/adenomyosis, he responded to my questions about hysterectomy by telling me I needed to go home and have a serious conversation with my husband before we could discuss it.

Caro

Earlier this month I went to the Nairobi Women’s Hospital. I was looking forward to accessing healthcare at a clinic that tailors to women’s health concerns. I felt safe. The doctor I saw was a man, and I didn’t think anything of it. I figured he was well-versed in treating his patients with respect. I was bloated. I wanted him to address the issue. He asked if he could feel my stomach. I had a brief moment where I worried he would take advantage of me – it happens, after all. But I told myself I was being paranoid. “Let it go, Caro.” It was fine. He sent me to the lab to do some tests. I felt vulnerable. Scared. When I returned to his office with the test results – as instructed – he simply looked at them and laughed. Laughing at someone’s test results is not exactly the path to rapport-building. Finally, he looked up at me with a sardonic smile. “Everything’s fine.” Now, how much longer are you in Kenya for?” 2 months. “Does that mean I won’t be able to take you out for dinner or a coffee?” I wanted to spit in his face. To tell him he was being unprofessional. To storm out. But I froze. He was about to fill out a prescription for me and I worried that if I told him to fuck off, he would prescribe me something else – something completely useless, or harmful. Paranoid, perhaps. But you never know. Finally, I spoke. “I’m in a relationship.” “That doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re a very beautiful women. It only makes sense that I would ask you.” I felt like puking. Just an hour earlier I had gone to this women’s clinic, excited to be in a place that purportedly caters to its patients needs, that respects them. This was clearly not the case. Had I known that he was so unprofessional, I wouldn’t have let him touch my stomach. I wouldn’t have even shaken his hand. I told the only woman staff member I saw on the way out. She said “I’m sorry.” I’m looking into who I can report this to.

Ms S

Since becoming a mother I have experienced so much sexism that it would take me an essay to write it all down fully! I really wish that everyone talked more openly and honestly to girls, and boys, about the reality of parenthood particularly for women. I think that parents are pretty good at doing that amongst themselves, but I wish so much that I had been told about the realities before I took the decision to have a child. I love my son and wouldn’t change him for the world, but I just wasn’t properly informed or prepared. And the change to a woman’s life is so massive. The biology of parenthood is not fair on women, but neither is the way that mothers are treated and the things expected of them. I believe that we are not told the truth because if we were, it would put us off becoming mothers. To start at the start of the process, I now find the term ‘morning sickness’ hugely problematic. It should be called ‘pregnancy sickness’ because it lasts all day. It is like having norovirus for weeks without a break – I am not exaggerating at all as I have experienced both. It is horrible and utterly exhausting. And yet we minimize it, don’t treat it (I know that there are good reasons for not trying new medications here, but there really is no help available). And it’s not generally considered something you can take time off work for. Labour is obviously massively painful and physically destructive to the mother, that is just how it is. But I’ve come to notice now how women in labour are often a subject for humour in television and film, and our wider culture. It makes me think, when is it ok to laugh at somebody in agony and distress? And the answer is, when it’s a woman. Postnatal care is below the standard needed for new mothers to maintain decent mental health. This was my experience and there are many articles online documenting this. After 40+hrs of labour, during which I had been physically unable to sleep or eat, I was left in sole care of a newborn baby (who wakes up at least every 3 hrs for a feed) for the first time. This is also when I was expected to learn to breastfeed, which despite being a very natural thing does take some practice to get right. This is the norm, but how is that sensible, for the best care of the baby or the mother? Women, including myself, are put on wards where people come and go, babies and women cry all day and night. I ended up going home with a newborn having lost two nights’ sleep. When this is the way that new motherhood begins – and there is no break from that crying, waking baby once you get home, 24/7 – I feel it is no wonder that postnatal depression rates are so high. I believe that things could be done differently too, it is just a question of money and resources. My grandmother spent a week in hospital after the births of her children, my mother several nights, and for both, the baby was cared for by midwives who woke the mothers only for feeds so that they could rest and recover. That was the norm then. But providing that care costs money, I guess, and women’s mental health is no longer a priority here. I could go on, about postnatal discrimination in the workplace, unequal burdens of childcare and housecare, the different standards expected of parents’ bodies (‘dad bod’ made me so mad – fathers’ bodies have done no work in the process of childbearing yet are allowed to stop caring for their bodies, while mothers are expected to ‘get their body back’ after pregnancy and labour). But I don’t have all night!