XX chromosome – an existential crime?
Written By Dr. Geeta Sundar
Kolkata is in hell and fire. Lots of takeaway messages and millions more offer opinions and reforms. “Nothing changes, till nothing changes.”
There are so many instances where we, I, and every woman has to deal with versions of so-called backlash for being a ‘woman’. Maybe intentional, maybe not, but there is an element comprising – suppression, authority and sadism in each encounter.
He sits next to me, a dirty gleam in his eyes, and after working with him for over a year, I know the whiplash going to arrive. I brace myself for it. Is it going to be like the time he called me ‘anti-social’ to my friends behind my back, or the time where he invited the whole department to a party for his birthday, but didn’t send me the address? Honestly, neither affected me, but I’d rather not have been in that situation at all…it causes unnecessary drifts and weird thoughts. Or maybe it’s just a taunt. I’ve grown accustomed to such comments. My bull-like skin is tougher than I give it credit for, despite what it might look on the inside. “He is transferring to the other unit. Are you going to be glad? You don’t have to shout anymore about how slow he is. Lol.” I recoil. He is ready to push me down as the bad guy for getting work done from a junior but not at all ready to get the junior to buck up and do things faster. Typical male mentality. Can’t tolerate women in higher positions giving orders. (The inneundo is not lost on me, trust me.) I share my piece of mind and retort like the attitude he thinks, flows from me – “Maybe you ought to tell him to buck up, that would be better for everyone. It’s sad that slowed work in the ward is not priority for you as a senior. “
#icouldntgivehimabiggerdamn
My gentleman of a professor, has somehow identified that maybe there is more to it than meets the eye in the ‘discrimination’ at the department and decides to ask me, for an opinion. I just want to sigh. Let bygones, be bygones, sir. Why go breaking something that apparently seems to be working fine for years? His reasoning, they have recently started having women residents in the department so he isn’t sure how to go about ensuring some fairness. I am of 2 minds – share and open a can of worms, or keep quiet and suffer in silence. Either is not ideal. I want solutions. But I have none. It’s between the hard place and the rock. Neither works. But I’m not one to back down. I’ll climb that rock, if that’s what it takes. I open up, albeit slowly but I try to share the most important superficial aspects of the matter – more chances to scrub in, more chances to make mistakes, more chances to be absolved of mistakes, more chances to not be caught red-handed and punished, bit more leeway, accommodation to learn at a slower pace – the same if done by me, the impact is far more forceful and harsh. For his caliber and stance, he listens and then asks me for a solution. Haha, sir! What? I know the answer, but surely my answer won’t work now, will it? “Things just have to change sir, in time, society, mannerisms, all that…”, I trail away and he nods, and we look at each other and then it’s time to pack up this conversation, hanging between the four walls on his cabin, lost into space.
#iprobablytriedmybest
A senior comes into the OT as we are operating a crucial case, and yells at me in front of my professor. The yelling was very very open and absolute for a few minutes. He missed a crucial information I had put on a common WhatsApp group and somehow he was mad that I hadn’t explained that separately to him over phone before I scrubbed in. The professor told him to stop shouting and leave. That’s all. Nothing else. But it didn’t sit well with me. I went to the professor and asked him how he could let it go. His reply? “He is just loud mouthed. Don’t take it personally.” J.O.K.E. Yeah, apparently it’s my fault for taking it personally. Trust me, had this been in an IT company, that man would have surely lost his job thanks to HR. I had over 6 witnesses. And this wasn’t the first time he was behaving like this – it was the millionth time. There were many people who were miffed with his behaviour. But the sad truth, there is no bloody HR in our hospitals and no supports except my professor and ‘so-called’ head of department. I had no choice but to let the matter go away. But imagine, if I had done that to him, shouted, and the tables were reversed, he might have become violent and I would have been taken to task. Now each time he scrubs for a case, he knows his impatience and virtue and the first warning he gives is – “I will shout, don’t feel bad, don’t complain, but hand me the instruments fast and we will work well.” And, if he loses his cool – then it’s apology “sorry, sister, sorry blah blah, don’t complain, don’t take it personally, this is who I am”. And depsite my highlingting the same to my staff, the end result is the same. Makes me mad, you know, such people getting away, and continuing to do it, and like I said despite the Delhi and Kolkata incident, “nothing changes, if nothing changes!”
#ifhisdaughterwastreatedsohowwouldhereact
And there are thousands more, each day, each minute.
Trust and rapport with a patient are easier for a man. The nurses tend to incline and believe the junior male resident over the senior female resident orders. The male residents can take days off for wives, family, car troubles, children issues, airport drops, but I won’t be allowed half a day to sustain my cramps. The male residents can take multiple breaks for infiltrating their lungs with smoke, but I’m not even allowed two minutes to use the restroom. The male residents can refuse to do duties because of ‘personal’ concerns and I would be forced to do their duty at the last minute because I am single and ..wait for it, if I refuse, verbally abused for the same. The male residents don’t have duties on days when we have department workshops, cultural gatherings and conferences, because they need to attend it, but I’m the dumped roster receiver. The male residents can take off for days because of a sprained shoulder and not write orders but I can’t be allowed rest even if I’m running a high fever. The male residents can use all kinds of languages and words, because it’s ‘in-vogue’, but God forbid me if I swore, girls should not be frustrated and expose it. I have to work ten times as hard, put fifty times more effort and do a detailed read for a case presentation or a seminar, just because otherwise I’ll be looked down upon – “women can’t be good neurosurgeons”, “that’s why we don’t encourage women to be neurosurgeons” and my male counterparts will be let off with excuses – “read and be better prepeared next time”, “he had a bad duty night”, “he is tired, the mother-in-law and wife are in town”, “his wife is pregnant, he needs to help her”, and so on and on and on. Is it a crime to be a woman? Is it a crime to act like one? Is it a crime to be given a chance?
Each time, some excuse. Each time, some reason. Silly maybe, but withholding , and lasting. And me? Brandished, branded, broken down, exhausted and so thrown, I’m ready to give up.
Almost.
But you know what? That useless ever-lasting streak and spirit in me refuses to back down. This is my passion. This is who I am. I will see this through. Each piece, every item, will be placed correctly, with the right knowledge and right teaching, I will build my foundation and excel at what I do. No wolf can break my foundation down by blowing uselessly at my walls. Days are tough, yes, very much so. But somehow I persist on. In more ways than one, I hope in my own way by standing up in whatever extent to these tyrannies, I can create a way for a better existence for XX chromosome. Maybe. Sure as hell gonna try though! #neverbackdown
