medicine

Sylvie

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I have a rare autoimmune disease which, albeit slow to develop (years), leads to a specific vitamin deficiency. Other than that one, which is manageable knowing how to, I thankfully have relatively few symptoms. When I first turned vitamin deficient symptomatic at age 16, doctors brushed me off a lot: it was stress, it was this, it was that, I was exaggerating. Having a gut feeling something was wrong, I ended up literally begging one Dr to do my bloodwork. He found the vitamin deficiency (it’s hard to miss in bloodwork), blamed my diet, then stress, then my periods, then again my diet which was not the problem. After this went on for a while, I consulted a female doctor instead, who rooted out the autoimmune disease in a matter of half a week from her first seeing me. By then I’d been symptomatic for four years and probably had the disease itself for some 7-10 years, and I’m thankful the vitamin deficiency symptoms are reversible for otherwise I’d still have numb feet/legs and hands. The thing is I don’t even blame the first doctors for not realising, but I’d have been thankful for a short “I can’t figure this out, maybe consult a colleague/specialist” instead of stubbornly sticking to the narrative that I was creating my own problems.

Meg

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I went to a doctor who was a friend of my then-boyfriend because I was hoping he could help me get a referral to get my tubes tied. I’ve been committed to being child-free for basically all my life; I can’t take hormonal birth control because I’m at increased risk of stroke; my partner and I used condoms, but they frequently came off inside me; I was terrified of getting pregnant because I have a spinal injury that causes me chronic pain even when I’m not carrying an extra person around. Anyway, I explained all this to the doctor, and he examined the site where the spinal injury was, and poked at the scar from the spinal fusion surgery. I flinched because it hurt, and he said, “You know that’s just in your head, right?” And like an idiot, because I trusted him, and trusted my boyfriend’s opinion of him, I kinda laughed awkwardly and was like, “Yeah, I guess.” And then he told me there was no way anyone would give me the tube-tying surgery because I hadn’t had any kids. I repeated that I was scared because of the back injury, and couldn’t he help me by recommending that it was medically necessary for me? And all he said, in this fucking smug way, was “Oh, don’t worry, you’d be amazed what a woman’s body can do during pregnancy.” I was so hurt and angry, and to compound it all, when I went home later and told my boyfriend what his asshole friend had said, and how much it bothered me, he just brushed it off and refused to confront the guy about it, because I guess having a doctor friend who let him stay at his summer house sometimes was working out for HIM just fine. Anyway, I’m not dating that guy anymore, don’t worry– but I’m pretty sure that asshole doc is still practicing! It still makes me mad, because it’s not even recognizing all the negative health repercussions that can happen to completely able-bodied women because of pregnancy! I knew someone whose fucking pelvis cracked halfway thru the pregnancy, and 15 years later, it still had never healed back quite right! Auuugh, that stupid fucking man!

Isla

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I’ve worked as a doctor in the NHS for almost 2 years now. I’ve experienced a range of sexist attitudes from patients and fellow staff. A lot of male patients call me nurse despite us wearing different uniforms or having already introduced myself as Doctor, some ask when I get to become a real doctor (about 2 years ago when I graduated medical school I tell them). Other patients are more inappropriate, when kneeling to take blood an older male patient said ‘It’s been a while since I had a woman on her knees for me’, a younger male patient asked if I was into BDSM while I was performing a procedure for him. One man told me outright that men are better at taking blood samples than women (I then got the sample first time with no issues and asked if he would like to retract his statement). A male patient masturbated while I place an IV line – I was horrified and realised I was extremely vulnerable being alone in a room with him. Thankfully my (female) senior was supportive, the male head of department said ‘it must feel awful, it’s not like you’ve been dragged into a bush and raped or anything but it must feel really bad’. A male surgeon told my colleague she shouldn’t pursue surgery because who would look after her children while her husband was at work.

brummie biker

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Some random examples of hurtful things that have happened because I am female. – the countless times presumptuous correspondence arrives addressed incorrectly to Dr and Mrs, instead of Dr and Mr. – being flashed by naked men as I commute by bicycle. Being very regularly heckled by male cyclists, pedestrians and car/van drivers as I cycle. Having a man fire a shotgun at me while cycling (poor aim, luckily). Being chased by a screaming man wielding a chef’s blowtorch while I am bicycle commuting. Having a firework thrown at me while I am cycling to work. – yesterday: at a trades show, encountering 4 men who all referred to town Mayors as exclusively male; one commenting that I was victimising HIM when I pointed out that mayors could also be female. At the same show, while discussing technical details of a product, the salesman changes topic to tell me how pretty I am….even with my husband standing next to me. – after years of fund-raising and organising as a teenager, finally getting the chance and privilege to join a conservation expedition to a rainforest, and in the middle of the very first night, waking up to realise one of the men has lain down beside me in our tent and is holding my hand. So then spending the rest of the 2 month expedition having to worry about whether I am going to be assaulted. – cycling across France along a popular cycle route that is advertised worldwide, but never finding any public toilets en route that has provision for disposal of female sanitary products. – consoling my 16 year old sister, who, at her first careers fair, is warned that training as an architect is probably going to be too demanding because she is likely to want to get married and have children before the end of the course. – the time at secondary school when we were told to wear leotards for sports class, and a male teacher took the class as a substitute. He spent most of the time making us perform ‘exercises’ that involved spreading our legs wide apart, while he stared at our crotches. – the disappointment in discovering that your employer has not complied with the government’s requirements for reporting the gender pay gap (is receiving a fine the lesser of two evils?). And the disappointment being compounded when the local union rep (male) fails to show any interest in chasing this up. – the countless times in my career that my ideas are only seriously considered as good or valid after they have been ‘appropriated’ by a male colleague. – the way at university open days I am still often assumed to be a student because I am female and look young for my age, even when I am wearing a name badge that indicates I have a PhD and am a senior lecturer. – the hotel proprietor who used creepy ‘flattery’ tactics (you’re so pretty….how old are you….how do you stay so fit….etc) in an attempt to distract me from the fact he was over-charging for our meal. – taking literally years to build up the confidence to wear shorts in public, the sudden feeling of healthful freedom, and then the man – a complete stranger – who destroyed all that within half an hour by loudly criticising the spider veins on my ankle. – the constant frustration of only pink colour schemes being available in women’s cycle wear and motorcycle wear, which singles us out for special, unwanted attention. The designs / cuts that do not acknowledge a muscular female’s anatomy – we actually do develop muscles doing sport, you know. Apparently we shouldn’t be taking exercise that seriously? – at the reception desk in CostCo, my husband is asked what is his profession. I am not asked. – our neighbours, though lovely people, only ever ask me about my husband, or if we are together, only ask us things about him. What I do or think is never important enough even for chit-chat. – if a man had been bleeding heavily and continuously for 50 days, I suspect his GP might be motivated to do more than simply prescribe him some iron tablets.

Mickey

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When visiting my gynecologist, I complained of some minor, brief sharp cramps I had been experiencing in the days before my appointment. The PA (a woman) who performed my pap smear before the doctor saw me said it’s likely from cysts, which are very common but I should call the office if it continued. This was comforting and I felt that I had an idea of how to handle the situation. A bit later, the doctor, a man, came in and immediately asked 2 or 3 questions about the cramps. From those quick answers, he announced, “it’s just gas. If it were serious it would last longer. You’ll be fine.” I immediately felt relieved – it was nothing, I’ll be fine. Upon reflecting on the situation, however, I realized that he had been dismissive and patronizing. I’ve been in my body for 30+ years – I think I know the difference between gas pain and cramps. But my internalized sense of “male doctor knows all” allowed me to be lulled by his immediate dismissal.

Medical school

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One of my best friends is studying medicine and is currently doing a placement with a doctor. The (male) doctor asked her and her male fellow student a question about a pregnant patient they had just seen. The male student said he didn’t know the answer, and my friend said she didn’t know either. The doctor said to my friend, “You should know, you’re the one here who is going to go through it.”

Anon

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Around Christmastime last year I went to see the doctor with a rather *embarrassing* problem, which he diagnosed as a STI. I told him that was impossible, as I had never had unprotected sex in my life. He refused to believe me and asked if I often went out drinking. I told him that I went to the pub with my female friends normally twice a week. He then responded that the most logical explanation was that somebody had raped me when I was drunk. He gave me a script for some medication to treat the condition, and told me that it was my responsibility to make sure I didn’t have sex for the next five weeks, even though ‘boys can be insistent’. As I left the surgery, he told me ‘not to let this happen again.’ Two weeks later, a female doctor called me back and explained that he had misdiagnosed my condition. He hadn’t listened to my history, and had made assumptions about my youth and my gender, instead of my situation. Never been so angry in my entire life. Sharing because I felt very ashamed and angry- I hope that if someone else is going through the same thing, you’ll realise that it’s not your fault. Look after yourselves gals xx

Ellen

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I’m a medical student and today I went to sit in on a trauma meeting to learn more. I was helping myself to the free food when a male orthopaedic consultant asked me what I’m interested in. Was nice to be acknowledged and even asked a question as am often ignored and feel in the way as a student. Infectious diseases and tropical medicine I told him. The army will be after you he told me. They really want infectious diseases people. It isn’t much hard work too – you can work part time AND you get to travel the world. It’s not too hard and it’s part time! Fancy that! Because hard work wasn’t really on the agenda as I push myself through medical school – all women in medicine really want to go part time so they can have children. Thank you kind sir. How would I ever cope? He then proceeded to tell the other men he was speaking to all about his guns and how he took his friend shooting and he was such an amateur. I raised my eyebrows, smiled and say ‘oh?’ Today I was too tired to try to let a ‘helpful’ male doctor know exactly what my career goals are and ask him why he is patronising me. But I realised that’s ok. Some days I smile and laugh, other days I throw it back. Can’t let it drain me.

Anna

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It happens 9 out of 10 times I go into public wearing my scrubs. “Are you in nursing school?”, “Are you a nurse?” No, I’m going to be a doctor, I’m in medical school. I preface this with my appreciation of nurses, as I will depend on them heavily as a student and when I become a doctor. It also bothers me to hear people talk about nurses as “b-team” medical staff. They aren’t. I’ve been told numerous times I should “just” be a nurse, as though such a thing was possible. How can one “just” be a nurse? People choose careers for a myriad of reasons, but “just” being this or that doesn’t describe my journey, or that of any of the nurses I know. They are nurses because they are intelligent, hard-working, and caring people. Understand, it’s not that I mind being called a nurse; it’s that most people assume that as a woman, I’m probably not a doctor.

A.

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I am a first year female medical student in Germany. I had a very good experience talking to the two male professors during my interview. My best friend didn’t. When she was asked what she would do if she didn’t get into medicine this year she answered that she would look into doing an apprenticeship as a nurse (which is exactly what I told the professors interviewing me and what most people would say) and then reapply after the waiting semester (which is what german students need when they dont get into uni right away, for medicine you need approximatly 14 waiting semesters). He said that she should just do that and stay there since that would be the proper job for a girl. Not being a doctor but being a nurse. During our oral histology exam a fellow female student of mine was told by her male examiner to draw a square. ‘Now draw four circles into that square. You have drawn a stove and that is where you belong.’ She failed because she hadn’t studied enough but so have other male students, yet they were told to be better prepared for the reexamination. They weren’t publically insulted in front of their peers. She was. While working in a hospital during the winter break a female doctor told me that sexism will always be a part of our job. Women will always be the ones addressed by the patients as the nurse. When I go into my Practical Year (the year we have to work in the hospital before we take our final exam) I will always be the nurse while my male peer will be the doctor. Yet when I try to talk to my male peers about these issues the only responses I get are ‘Get over it.’ or ‘You can’t change it anyway.’ or ‘But there are more women studying medicine than men at the moment.’ Yes, because that certainly solves everything.