Beky's Story

When I was 16, I went to a doctor to get an exam and prescription for birth control pills (after repeated demands by my over-sexed boyfriend who didn't want to use anything himself). I forget the name of the hospital, but it was in Boston, MA. They told me to wait in a room. An old white man came in and identified himself as "Doctor Love." He mumbled something about being required by law to give me birth control if that's what I wanted. He looked me up and down with a very condescending look on his face, and said, "Take of that shirt or whatever that is you're wearing." I was wearing a tank top. He walked over to me and plunked his stethoscope down between my bare breasts, with no explanation.

Then he told me to lie down (after putting a paper drape on my lap) so he could examine me. A female nurse came in to observe - the rules, apparently. He proceeded to examine my insides. I was asking questions, trying to be "well informed." The doctor seemed offended by this. With his hand inside my vagina, he said to the nurse, "Well I guess she's been poked so many times she knows what the hell it's all about." The nurse just cringed and looked helpless.

After the exam, I got dressed and went to the information desk. I was only 16, but I thought I should make a complaint about this doctor. I asked where "Doctor Love" had gone, because he hadn't finished answering my questions. The nurse at the desk replied, "There is no Doctor Love on staff at this hospital."
THE END

I've been pregnant several times, because of self-destructive notions about what my role was with men (to let them do whatever they want to me, without questioning them), which resulted from childhood sexual abuse by various males - neighbors, baby-sitters, relatives. I have had several abortions, surgical and herbal. I have never felt the slightest twinge of moral guilt about it. I have always felt a great relief immediately after it was over. All I can say is, men are sick pigs, and hooray for abortion!

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