the hired help

"I am here for my annual pap smear and lab tests for any sexually transmitted diseases," the law student said to the doctor's receptionist. She had chosen a gynecologist out of the phone book, one near her father's home. She was spending time with her family over her Christmas break from school.  Still on her dad's insurance, it was easier to get the annual check up in Chicago.

She had been sexually active for a few years. And, like a good feminist and self-care-taker, she always had this annual check up.

There was a short wait to see the doctor. An assistant gave her one of those drapes of fabric to cover her up. She thought, as she took off her clothes and put on that open-in-the-back cover, which are all paper nowadays, that she did not think she needed to remove her top clothes but she did not voice that concern. She submitted to what she was ordered to do.  Of course she needed to have no pants on to get the pap. But making her sit, in a cold office in late December, in just that bit of robe was not necessary. It gave her a creepy vibe.t had still

The doctor came in. He greeted her. He said and did the routine, telling her to scooch down a bit more, explaining that he was going to put his hand insider her, then telling her that she might feel a pinch when he took the scrape he needed for the pap test.

So far, so good. 

When the doctor had done the pap, he could have, as was typically for this young law student when she got her annual gynecological check up, let her get dressed again before drawing her blood. Instead, the doctor had her remain, almost nude and freezing, on the exam table.

It was common for his assistant to draw blood for the annual blood test. In those days, doctors did not usually send her to a lab for a blood draw. Their offices just did the blood draws and sent it to a lab.

This time, the unfamiliar doctor announced he would draw her blood. As he put on the tourniquet, then tapped her arm to find a good vein, he said "Worried about sleeping with too many guys, are you?"

She was astonished. It took a couple moments for her to register that the doctor had just made an inappropriate comment about her private life.

"I always get an annual pap and an annual blood test for sexually transmitted diseases. I was told to do this for basic self care and I do it every year."  She ducked saying anything about her sex life. It had still not quite registered with her that the doctor was behaving abusively, batting his eyes as if he were flirting, making faces as he suggested she was, in his judgmental assessment, too sexually active.

As she lay on the exam table, trying to calm herself enough to say something, she thought "I have only had sex with one guy, my boyfriend, this past year. I am just getting this test out of self care habit."  And she thought "This clown is a doctor so he knows that even if I only had sex with one guy, I was sleeping with all that guy's past sex partners if he did not use condoms. This was just good, early feminist days, self care.  She had attended health clinics for female college students. She was doing the right thing and this doctor was behaving inappropriately.  He did not need to ask about her sex life and especially did not have any business making jokes about her promiscuity.  She could not quite get her thinking clear so she said little. She got dressed as soon as she could. And she left that office without saying anything to anyone.

On the short drive back to her father's, she calmed down and got clear on what thoughts she wanted to share with the doctor. When she got to her dad's, she phoned the doctor's office. First she blurted out to the receptionist that the doctor had no business asking her about the number of sex partners, no business leering at me as he speculated about my sex life. She announced, with rising angry tones, "The doctor violated me and I am going to report him to the Illinois Medical Board."

The receptinist asked her to wait on hold so she could put the doctor on the phone. By then, she had found her voice, found her anger and she all but shouted at the doctor, accusing him of harassment, then slamming down the phone.

A week or so later, she got the lab test results. The pap had been fine and her blood tests showed no sign of syphyllis.

And she never got a bill from the gynecologist.