Editor’s Note: This account reminds us of the bell-shaped curve of human integrity and how staying true to one’s values has its own rewards.
As a junior faculty member at a prestigious institution, I had a rude awakening. As one of the authors of a multicenter group study evaluating methods used to perform a standard operation, I was charged with submitting our institution’s data set. Our results showed that one complication occurred with a certain approach more often than it did using other methods. A senior colleague who was powerful and well known did not like our findings. He did not want patients to become aware of the information, as he worried they would no longer request a certain method of performing the operation. He, therefore, told me to retract the data. Of course, to me as a researcher, data integrity meant everything.
I thought about this a great deal and discussed it with a number of people. In the end, I chose not to retract the data and the study was published with our findings. Based on my senior colleague’s reaction, I thought this would be the end of my career. It wasn’t, but my professional life became a lot harder. I sometimes describe it as “living Hell.” I had difficulty securing OR time and was kept on “a short leash.”
Sadly, my colleagues who understood what happened remained silent. There was no backlash for the retaliation against me, probably because the senior department member was persuasive and powerful. I was distraught and began to question my surgical ability and even my research abilities. When I was recruited to join an academic institution elsewhere, the decision was easy.
Ironically, I am now obliged to work with the senior colleague at times on panels and projects within our national subspecialty group. The unjust punishment I received will never be forgotten. The positive side of the experience is that it taught me two things. I learned to be stronger and developed my “professional backbone” early in my career. I also learned that women must still work harder than men to prove themselves but the product of the extra work can be success.
I mentioned that I discussed my dilemma with others who were mentors from various stages of my career. These people, who I greatly admire, are very precious to me. From the private practice orthopaedist who allowed me to sign on to a research project with him while I was a medical student, to the chairman of orthopaedic surgery during my residency program (“a force of nature”), to my present chairman who recruited me away after my hellish experience, and to the women I have met who share my “atypical subspecialty for women” in orthopaedics.
In fact, these special women have formed an organization with an international presence and involve themselves with orthopaedic service work. The organization is a source of support, empowerment, and inspiration. We believe in “Lift as we climb”. We bring others along as we rise by providing opportunities, mentorship, professional support and friendship. This is a win for society and the profession.
What did I learn from my experience described above? That I am strong and confident enough to move forward and become accepted into a professional society where women have not previously been admitted. Now, I can now help open the door for others. This is not about “me”; it is about advancing our field. I was once told by a student “When I saw you on the podium, I realized that I, too, could do this work.”
The advice I would give to my younger self is as follows:
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Don’t worry as much about other peoples’ opinions of me. Stop trying to be a people pleaser.
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When you have a dilemma, share it with others to get their take and wisdom about the situation. Remember, orthopaedic surgeons accounted for 28.2% of surgeon suicides between 2003 and 2017. This was the highest prevalence among all the surgical subspecialties. The rates of orthopaedic surgeon burn out has been reported as high as 40-60%. Don’t isolate yourself and talk to colleagues-chances are that others have experienced similar situations and can provide valuable advice or lend an empathetic ear.
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If you are in a pool of candidates running for a leadership position and there is another woman also in the pool, don’t feel as though one of you must withdraw from the competition. Men run against each other all the time. Women have earned their places and are no longer “tokens” in the profession of orthopaedic surgery. The more the better!
Finally, a humorous anecdote. Nearing the end of my internship year, I had not yet inserted a tibial traction pin. The necessity to do so arose one night at a level I trauma center where I was on call. No other orthopaedic residents were in-house. I called my chief resident and asked if he would teach me how to do it? He said yes and directed me to a YouTube site. “See one, do one, teach one” had been one-upped by “view one” on YouTube. Unfortunately for the 16-year-old patient, YouTube forgot to mention to anesthetize the opposite side before driving the pin out of the bone. There are limitations to technology!