homecoming

i been starved of home
the goldenrod cobs under vast expanses of silence
cicadas and quiet air humming around sidewalk greetings

the rhythm of the predictable bounty of backyard tomatoes
and hungry rabbits

the honor system at the vegetable stand down the street
with an intact paint-peeled wooden money box
whose padlock would be long since desecrated in my new city

home hasn't aged the same way my skin, my soul, my eyes have this last decade away

the salt on my lip, that flavor from childhood
just ain't the same anywhere else

I'm your fucking doctor

I knew medicine was a sexist field going into medical school. But I wasn't prepared for the relentless onslaught of sexism I encounter on a daily basis as a doctor in training.

One of the common complaints female emergency physicians have lodged against them by patients is: "I spent hours waiting and never saw a doctor."

Actually, you saw two doctors. Both of them were women. Both of them introduced themselves as a doctor. Because you were in distress, because you've been enculturated to visualize a tall white man in a white coat, and because society has not taught you everything that women can be--powerful, accomplished, professional--you overwrote their introductions. You assumed, incorrectly, that they were not doctors, and you assumed, incorrectly, that you hadn't been seen by a doctor.

Actually, a doctor saw you as soon as you got into a room.

Today, I had a patient complain to their nurse that they'd been waiting for hours and hadn't seen a doctor. And I decided enough is enough. I'm not going to keep swallowing my pride every time a patient makes this sexist mistake. So I went back into the room, and after delivering an update, I said calmly, respectfully, "I just wanted to clarify that I'm a doctor. I heard from our nurses that you thought you hadn't been seen by a doctor. I'm your doctor."

Thus commences my experiment. Let's see how they react. Because I'm not staying silent about this any longer.

Cause I'm your fucking doctor.