This isn’t going to be one of my usual blogs.
I had a triggering moment a couple of weeks ago. If we’ve interacted at all here you might know that I was abused by a doctor as a child. It seems pretty unbelievable to me and it happened to me. given the ‘questionable’ nature of some of the ‘true stories’ posted here I wouldn’t blame you for raising a jaundiced eye. I don’t really care. It happened.
Yesterday Facebook popped up his wife in ‘people you may know’. I was shocked to see she was still alive. She’s got to be well into her eighties. He died a few years ago. The profile picture was an old one, I recognized her right away. She was his office assistant and she held me down while he did the exam on me. I’ll never forget. I literally had to do centering exercises when I saw her picture – you know the one where you focus on things in your line of sight and say them out loud – to keep from going into a full blown panic attack. Yesterday I saw a thread on ‘where was your first pelvic exam’ which made me think maybe writing about it would help. Anyway I’m writing about this for me.
So weird thing is I’m writing about being sexually abused by a doctor on a site where people fetishize medical experiences. Yes there’s a bit of irony there. I suspect that this will titillate at least a few people. Honestly I don’t care. It obviously does me as well. I mean come on people, look at what I’m into! When I play med games it’s pretty clear to this amateur shrinkologist (to steal Susie’s term) that I’m playing out what happened to me. It’s a fairly common thing with assault victims – look at the number of people into BDSM who have been raped. By taking over the experience in your own terms you take control over what happened to you. I’m pretty certain that’s what I’m doing. I was inclined that way anyways based on my early experimentation with my cousin. Hell pretty much every sexual fantasy I had until I had my first non-platonic boyfriend at 14 involved doctors – and while it branched out after that, the evil medical experiment stayed pretty strong in the rotation. My own memories of the event cause a really disturbing mix of emotions for me – shame, stress, fear, anger, and arousal. That last really messes with me. Everything I’ve read suggests it’s not abnormal. That helps slightly but it still makes me feel oogy.
I called my sister last week. Didn’t know I had one, did you? We don’t get along. She’s 13 years older than me. We haven’t spoken since my mother’s funeral. She was caring for my mother for the last few years of her life and resents it. Too fucking bad, I did it for years before and I didn’t even like her. I called her to ask about Dr M. I won’t say his name because I don’t want to get sued. I’ve got to say I was stunned by her response when I brought the topic up.
I said something like, “Mrs M popped up in my Facebook feed,” and her response, right back, was, “Oh, the pervert’s wife?”
Stunned. I was like, wait, what? I mean here was the validation I was looking for and I was so stunned it rendered me speechless. I said something like, “Wait you think he was weird too?”
She went on to say that all the girls in her circle called him “Dr Pervy” because he made them get completely undressed and touched them while doing their physicals. She also went on to say that when she was ‘older’ it always felt like he was ‘doing more than he should’ when he would do a well woman exam. He started doing pelvic exams on her in HS, she didn’t remember exactly when but younger than the AMA suggests is appropriate now. She changed doctors when she left home to go to college and never went back to him.
I told her what happened to me and she was shocked and appalled but not surprised. I really expected her to not believe me, or to at least not believe me at first. We never got along and these last few years more so since our mother died so I didn’t expect sympathy, I expected to be told I was making things up for attention – which had been her claim for my whole life. She didn’t do that. She did ask me how old I was, eleven (I may have been twelve), and if I was sure – but she didn’t ask it in a bad, judgy way, she was just trying to get me to clarify my memories. She did ask where our mother was and was disturbed when I told her she was in the room with us. I always blamed my mother for it. Thought it was done at her insistence. My close cousin was abused by her dad and it came out around that time so I thought that may have been the driver but my cousin recently confirmed for me that she didn’t tell until she was 13 – which was at least 2 years after this.
I asked my sister (I’ll call her B) if it WASN’T at our mother’s urging why would she allow it? She was there, I was calling to her for help and her response was “Don’t be a baby, it will be over in a minute.” I mean WTF. B had a different take on it, probably based on her different relationship with our mother. Her opinion was that our mother was a rules follower. She was very deferential to authority and would never think to question something a doctor ordered. I always had a different spin on it, I assumed my mother had something like Munchhausen’s by Proxy or something and drove this. Occam’s Razor says that B’s take is the more likely, but I’m having a hard time excusing my mother’s role.
I asked B if she had to be naked during a visit with Dr M and she confirmed that she did. She also assured me that wasn’t normal. She recalls when Dr M told them (her and our mother) she needed a pelvic exam the first time and was sure that she was a teen and in HS. She thinks maybe 15 or 16 which wasn’t totally unusual in those days but said that during those exams he always ‘touched her more than was necessary’. She wasn’t given any preparation as to what to expect before her first but wasn’t totally unprepared for it, being a little older. It wasn’t a pleasant memory for her but not traumatic. She didn’t realize about the inappropriate touching until she started seeing another doctor and had something to compare to. She was horrified when I told her he had me in stirrups at that age, no warning, and that Mrs M was holding me down. I know he put a finger inside me. I’m pretty sure he put a speculum inside me but things were so upsetting at that point I’ll admit that MAY be a manufactured memory. I personally think he did. I was early adolescence. It was definitely before I had my first period and it was around the time my breasts started to develop so there is no reason for him to have done this. We speculated why, was it an escalating pattern of abuse? Why me?
B had no idea. She was off at college when this happened. I know that before HS we switched doctors but I went back to Dr M at least a few times after this because I remember the TERROR that he was going to do this to me again. I would get physically ill before an appointment. He did put me in the stirrups again each time and he did touch me but I don’t recall him putting anything inside of me those other times. It was upsetting but not as traumatic as the one time. When we changed doctors, the new doctor was quite different. I did have to undress to underpants but that was it and I didn’t get a pelvic until I asked to go on BCPs at age 16. I dreaded it and almost didn’t ask for them because of that fear but it was painless, over in a minute and not at all what Dr M was like. So different that I began to almost doubt myself that it had actually happened.
I’ve been a mess the last week. Crying etc. My hub has been his usual angel self and has been helping me. I feel better now. Maybe this can lead to a new relationship between B and I. Who knows. I’m tempted to ask some of my childhood friends about him but I’m not so sure. It was hard enough telling B about it. This guy was ‘beloved’ in the town.
I’m not looking for anything at all out of this. Writing helps me feel better.