Editor’s Note: A shocking and saddening account of events which should never happen.
I was recently in the operating room with a second-year medical student who was interested in a career in orthopaedic surgery. She mentioned that she was surprised to learn that there are so few female orthopaedic surgeons and wondered how that had affected my career. She asked me if her future experience in orthopaedic surgery would be different than mine? I truly hope so. This question compelled me to tell my story.
When I was a first-year orthopaedic resident, I took the in-training examination for the first time, along with all the other residents. After the exhausting multi-hour examination, my chief resident invited all of us to a celebration at his home. I had been rotating on his service and he had been supportive-I trusted him.
At the end of the evening, the host recommended that I not drive home. I did not feel intoxicated and thought I was capable of driving, but he was insistent, and I acquiesced. He offered to drive me himself but was preempted by a fourth-year resident who said he would take me. The chief said I would “be fine with him” and we left in his car. Just prior to reaching my apartment, he turned off into a convenience store and stopped the car in the parking lot away from the building.
He got out of the car and came over to my side, got on top of me and raped me. After he finished, he got back in the driver’s seat and drove me home.
I was physically traumatized, mortified and humiliated. I told no one. Only a few months into my first year of residency, I was new to the city and had no one with whom I could share this story. At the time, I was one of only two women in the program.
Since the perpetrator was a fellow resident, I had to see him at work. In fact, as a more senior resident, he was in a position of power over me, and I could not avoid him on a daily basis. A few months later, as it turned out, I required orthopaedic surgery following an injury. Unfortunately, he was rotating on the operative service scheduled to do my surgery. Knowing this would be the case, I asked for spinal anesthesia so I could be awake during the procedure, hoping to minimize my vulnerability. The spinal compromised my respiratory function and it became necessary to put me under general anesthesia to protect my ventilation.
When I awoke, I was stained with Betadine from my toes all the way up to my neck. In other words, this resident stripped and scrubbed me while I was under anesthesia in the middle of the operating room-a second humiliating assault. Again, I made no report. Surely, OR staff was witness to this inappropriate surgical prep and had failed to stop it.
What did these events teach me? They confirmed that the world is a dangerous place, especially for a woman making her way in a “man’s world.” I believe that contempt for women, for our daring to be in their world, often underlies the danger that some men pose. It seemed that this second assault, in the operating room, was committed “to teach me the lesson that he was in control.” It is astounding that these lessons have been doled out to women in the noble profession of medicine.
What can this teach others? It is a cautionary tale of what can happen and a warning not to let one’s guard down. Hopefully, the danger has lessened as time has passed. Yet, during these troubling times in our country, I worry that the risks will grow again. I don’t want young women seeking a career in orthopaedic surgery to be targeted. They should not be diminished by threats and fear.
An orthopaedic colleague recently shared with me that she also had been raped during her training. We must help create a culture where these crimes are not acceptable and where they can be discussed and reported if they do occur. Punishment must follow to change what can be, if unchecked, a predatory culture.