The Sisterhood of Medicine

"Sister, when will the Doctor be here?", asked a middle aged man. I turned from my examination table, where I was examining a six year old boy, and replied, " I am the doctor, how can I help you?". The man looked at me doubtfully - I was in a salwar kameez with my stethoscope around my neck - and repeated - " No but Sister, I need my child to be seen by a Doctor Sir". 

This is only one of the many incidents that I- as well as most of my young female colleagues at work- go through on a daily basis. Young female doctors get mistaken for nurses all the time, although the nursing staff always has a specific uniform. The young male doctors, however, do not encounter any such confusion. I have no idea whether I can label this as casual sexism or pure ignorance, but people across social and economic spectrums tend to address female doctors as "Sister" as opposed to "Madam". The men, however, get to be "Sir" throughout. 

So what is the big deal, many may argue. How they address us doesn't define who we are, and most definitely doesn't undermine our work. Having said that, it is jarring to be repeatedly called something you simply aren't. Also, I think this wouldn't affect female doctors as much had their male counterparts also faced the same situation. On the contrary, I have faced situations and heard stories wherein female postgraduate residents were mistaken for nurses and on top of that, patients preferred their children to be examined by a male intern, who is infact a newbie and is still learning the ropes. 

This is in no way suggestive that being a nurse is demeaning or that the work they do is inconsequential. Nurses are the actual backbone of our health system and had it not been for them, hospitals would simply be brought to their knees in no time. In the rural sector in the country, it is they who handle deliveries and emergencies. I have learnt as much, if not more, from senior nurses as much as from my textbooks and my teachers. Practical skills like starting an intraveinous line or making sure the blood transfusion is smooth is best learnt from nurses, as any med school graduate will tell you. 

Then what is the problem, one may ask. Being doctors are who we are, it is our identity. Just like it is jarring when one's name is mispronounced or misspelt, being called a nurse when you are a doctor is annoying in exactly the same way. It is just as annoying as being called a foreigner just because you are from the North east and look a certain way. 

As to why this happens, I haven't really been able to figure it out. However, many years ago while working as an intern, I did overhear an interesting conversation between two elderly patients, admitted on adjacent beds. This was after we had just finished rounds with the Consultant, and all of us interns were busy scurrying about, drawing blood samples and writing orders for X-rays and ultrasounds. This is what they had to say : 

P1 : Brother, that young girl who took my blood, who is she...is she a doctor?

P2 : No, no! Are you crazy? These girls aren't doctors!! You see those Sirs? (Points at a grp of male interns, my batchmates) . Those are doctors! 

P1 : Then...? They must be nurses? 

P2 : No no!! Nurses are dressed in white with a cap, don't you see? 

P1 : Right. But then, who are the girls? Drawing blood? The ones with the instrument (they meant the stethoscope) around their necks? 

P2: Oh they??? They are Compounders! Must be trainee compounders. 

(This is a true story, no kidding). 

The reason why I cannot put it down simply to ignorance is because I have encountered well dressed and educated people from well to do families address female doctors as Sister while reserving Sir for even the juniormost male doctors. One tends to initially laugh it off or correct the mistake gently and point out the difference. But when one gets called "Sister" day in and day out over several years, it does get on one's nerves. 

Funnily enough, once a female doctor starts looking conventionally old and experienced enough or starts wearing sarees to work, the "Sister" gets seamlessly replaced by "Madam". If that doesn't speak volumes about how deeply sexism is ingrained in us, I don't know what does.

My male colleagues may or may not understand our exasperation. Although, I can recall a singularly hilarious incident when one of my male co-interns -who had dozed off after a hectic labour room night duty-was gently nudged awake by a patient's attendant with "Sister dada, o Sister dada, could you come andsee my wife, please?". I have never forgotten the look on his face. He looked confused, mortified and furious all at once! 

So the next time you walk into a clinic or a hospital, incase you cannot make out who is the nurse and who is the doctor -simply stick to the generic Sir for the men and Madam for the women. What you call us does not define us, but annoying your doctor at the very outset isn't a great idea, is it? :-)