A Physician's Place in the #MeToo Movement

I have waited to write my story of being a woman who has been harassed until I knew the ending or at least had some sense of a solution. I am a bit different from the others who have come forward in the #MeToo movement because, as a physician, I am legally unable to name the patient who harassed me. It happened many years ago in an examination room where I'd been asked to see a VIP patient early in the morning before regular business hours. I remember the early-morning light filtering through the blinds. I was alone with him in the room. We sat across a small table. I did my usual initial interview, and then we stood to move to the examination table. He grabbed me as I stepped forward. He pulled himself against me and tried to force himself on me. He did this twice; when I rebuffed him, he stood beside the examination table and satisfied himself.

After he finished, he reassembled himself and left. The staff was just coming into clinic. I had no idea what to do. I felt ashamed, I hadn't screamed—I was supposed to be offering “extra-special” service to this man because he was rich and powerful and good for my institution (a place I no longer work). I don't quite remember how I figured out who to call to report this incident. However, I did call, largely because I wanted a note placed in his chart warning other women never to be alone with him. What if the patient did the same thing to another woman? I needed to protect people more vulnerable than I was as an attending. The person who took my call explained my rights but said that the patient had “more money for lawyers” than my institution did and advised me to refrain from reporting this incident formally to the police because I would lose in court.

The next day, the patient called and apologized. He said that he had a terrible problem and that he had done the same thing with many other women. That he basically couldn't control himself when alone with a woman. I told him that he needed to get counseling immediately and to never allow himself to be alone with a woman in a room. I never directly heard from him again. However, he has become ever more powerful and venerated in his professional world.

The recent media coverage of allegations against men has caused me to remember these events almost obsessively. I have had many sleepless nights fretting about what to do. I sought legal counsel and carefully considered my role as physician and public health advocate. My purpose, as I see it, is not to be the focus of a media storm by reporting my incident but rather to help find a way forward.

To this end, I tried to become involved in harassment training at my current institution, thinking that someone with my perspective could be helpful. I wanted to teach young female doctors how to find their voice in difficult situations and work with men to recognize when their behaviors cross the line. However, my somewhat halfhearted efforts to become involved did not go far, and I felt it would be hard for me to truly make a difference. So I tried to sleep more, fret less, and be a more compassionate physician, now adding a question about harassment to my assessment of all vulnerable patients.

Then came an incident that changed everything.

As a professional woman, I often travel alone to meetings. Although I have many wonderful male friends and colleagues, years ago I adopted the strategy of arriving late, avoiding social functions, and enjoying solitude. This eliminated any uncomfortable situations, and what I lost in networking and informal exchange of information I gained in peace.

I recently had to violate my rules because—although I arrived late—I had to find a colleague, Jim, in a reception to discuss the next day's presentation. On my way to the reception, I ran into Seth. I knew him distantly, not well enough for more than a casual hello. But he stood too close to me, talked too intimately, and seemed a bit drunk. I shook him off, met Jim, and went to sit in the bar to plan our talk. As it grew later, the bar filled with various people from our group having interesting conversations and I had a moment of regret at having missed so many collegial social events. Then there was an arm around me, a body pressed to mine. An even more drunk Seth had come to find me. I tried to shift on my stool, to shake him off and push him away. I hurriedly announced that I was leaving to go to bed and Seth stumbled after me.

I reached my room, alone, disgusted that I couldn't even go to one social event without being harassed but also disgusted with myself for not having been forthright and saying, “Stop it. Your behavior isn't appropriate.” However, Seth is a corporate vice president who has power, money, and influence; not to make a scene seemed to be ingrained into my DNA. Why must I always please men? I would have defended a female friend or student from a man like Seth, but I couldn't defend myself.

The next day, waiting to go on stage to speak, Jim asked me if I had felt uncomfortable with Seth's behavior the night before. Startled by the concern, I explained that I had, in fact, felt harassed and distressed and had left because of it. Surprisingly (to me), Jim took immediate action and called over the woman in charge of their programs. She and I had a conversation about what steps to take going forward, and Seth was barred from participating in future events. For the first time in these settings, I felt safe, acknowledged, cared about. Ironically, it took a man to show me what to do and how to do it. Jim had been willing to see behavior as unwanted, discuss it with me, and help me find a solution.

For me, the way forward is to realize how much we can help each other, men and women alike. Jim helped me get my voice back. However, we need to protect and support each other. We should not see patients in clinic when others aren't nearby, and staff should check in with each other at intervals. Asking for someone else to be present during a visit if it doesn't seem comfortable otherwise is acceptable. And institutions have much better reporting policies about sexual harassment now than what I encountered long ago, although reporting is never easy. If a colleague looks a bit uncomfortable in social settings in the presence of another, it is fine to pull him or her aside and ask whether everything is okay. There is, of course, consensual hugging, friendliness, and flirting, but that is a world apart from unsolicited advances and sexual acts. As for me, it will take a while before the draw of a noisy bar wins over the peaceful allure of a room-service chicken caesar salad and a glass of wine.