When I was seven months pregnant with my daughter, I was a resident on an inpatient rehab ward. We were having a bit of a pre-holiday slump, meaning I had all of four patients on my entire service. Of course, as a resident, I had no complaints about this.
I was working with my attending, who we will call Dr. Massage, because of the way she sometimes reached out and started massaging residents shoulders for no particular reason. Dr. Massage was middle aged and did not look at all dissimilar to Coach Beiste on Glee. (Yes, I watch Glee. It's awesome.)
One day, someone (I can't remember who) was bemoaning the lack of patients on the inpatient ward and said to Dr. Massage, "Is there anything we can do to increase admissions?"
Dr. Massage replied, "Well, Dr. Fizzy and I could go out on the street wearing bikinis. That might cause a few accidents."
Considering, as you recall, Dr. Massage looked like Coach Beiste on Glee, I took this as an insult.
Granted, it was kind of self-deprecating as well. But I'm not sure why I had to be included in this. I was sitting several feet away from this conversation, quietly doing my work, and I was kind of shocked when I heard her say that.
What's the big deal, you ask? I guess it isn't really such a big deal. Except that I was only 27 and pregnant for the first time after being quite petite before, and I was not feeling fantastic about the way I looked at that moment. Every pregnant woman worries about weight gain and swelling and all that. OK, I'm sure some pregnant woman walk around feeling like they look fabulous all the time and never once feel fat, and that's awesome for you, really. But not me. And I certainly wasn't in the mood to hear someone making comments about how my appearance in a bikini might result in a serious accident. Of course, Dr. Massage never had kids, so maybe she didn't get it. Although I get the feeling if I had made a similar comment, including her name with mine, she wouldn't have appreciated it.
Would a man make a comment like that? Possibly, but I actually feel like men watch their mouths more than women these days. I feel like when women make insulting comments about another woman's appearance, you really can't do much (not that I ever would anyway). Another blogger recently said that a female she worked with accused her of having fake breasts (she didn't) and she just let it slide. Or maybe men are just as bad or worse, and I'm suffering from selective memory right now.
Anyway, I'm not sure if there's a moral to this story, but it's something that still sort of stings so many years later.