Thursday, February 22


3 people describe how it feels to be examined by a doctor of the opposite sex

by Staff writer

Three people describe how it feels to be examined by a doctor of the opposite sex:

1. He shoved his long fingers inside me:

Shiloh Isha, a professional holistic practitioner says:

Ten years ago, I had a gynecological exam from a male doctor. I thought nothing of it since I knew there would be a female nurse in the room.

I put my trust in this man. I expected nothing less than absolute professionalism, after all, he's a doctor.

Well, here it goes.

Legs in stirrups completely vulnerable, he begins with the breast exam. I felt it was odd the way he squeezed my breast tissue and gripped it a lot longer than necessary.

I've had breast exams before and they never feel like this. It can only be compared to fondling in an intimate way. I started to feel something was off and grew increasingly uncomfortable.

The female nurse was in the examination room, but she was looking away. WTF?!

So here comes the awkward poking and prodding of my vagina. To add to the increasing humiliation, my nurse abruptly stepped out of the room. I was alone with Dr. Predator and I began to feel panicky and nervous.

Before I knew what happened, he shoved his long, thick fingers inside me in a sexual way.

I imagined it was intentional as if to mimic thrusting. He then asked me the most vile question:

“Now tell me, am I the best you've ever had?” he said this in a hushed tone while leaning over the upper half of my body.

He coldly stared into my teary eyes.

Just then the nurse walked in. He changed his demeanor, quickly removed his hand and walked away from my table.

I left that examination room feeling violated.

I had never felt this confused about a doctor's visit once before. I kept replaying the event in my mind.

Did I do something to provoke this? Was I just imagining his intentions? Did he really just sexually assault me?

The only person I told was the front desk nurse. I was shaking and obviously in a state of shock.

She just looked at me and said “Ok, thank you”.

I never told my asshole boyfriend at the time, because he would say it was all my fault. I dumped him shortly after.

In fact, this is the first time I have ever told this story.

I can understand the humiliation and confusion that victims go through. Why report something if you will just be mocked and ridiculed.

No woman wants to relive and retell her assault story. It's fucking embarrassing! The humiliation is unbearable.

I don't care if you judge me for what I did or didn't choose to do. But until you've been on the receiving end of such a violation, I suggest you don't comment something negative.

2. She was not like the others:

Sebastine says:

I’m a man.

I had, long ago, genital warts. (My wife didn’t, so I have no idea where they came from.)

They were uncomfortable and ugly.

I took them to a nearby clinic, and a sympathetic male doctor said to me: “No worries, we can get rid of these with liquid nitrogen.”

He dipped a cotton bud in the cold liquid and touched them to the warts. It hurt a bit, and… in a couple of weeks, they came back.

Back to the clinic. I got another sympathetic male doctor. He repeated the cotton bud procedure, as I winced. A couple of weeks later, they were back again.

Third time, I got a female doctor.

It was really embarrassing having to drop my trousers for her, and she was not the slightest bit sympathetic.

For all I knew, she’d been attacked by a rabid penis recently.

She ground the frozen cotton bud into each wart with all her strength as if she wanted to dig deep craters into my abused pubis.

I had a hard time not screaming. Oh how I hated her.

The warts, however, did not return this time.

Sometimes, a sympathetic doctor is not what you need.

3. He was the best:

Margaret Colquhoun says:

When I was 11, I was raped by someone I knew at knife point.

Once I built up the courage to tell someone, it became a police matter and I had to go see one of their doctors for inspection, a man.

Since I was terrified, the thought of having to show a man what had happened made me incredibly tense.

He turned out to be wonderful however, kind and gentle.

He also made sure he explained everything to me before he touched any part of me.

And one really lovely thing he did - and which all doctors could learn from - was that he spent most time looking at my eyes, only looking at what he was examining in short bursts.

So I felt like a person, not a set of damaged private parts.

The way he behaved gave me back my dignity and also ensured I’d never be concerned about the sex of my gynecologist again.

By the way, the roughest one I ever met was female!


Have you ever been examined by a doctor of the opposite gender before?

Let us know how it felt!


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