She had consulted several people about this situation, particularly once Dr. Pritchard began to send her e-mails more frequently, though they were still generally clinically relevant.

Dr. Shaker’s face darkened when she shared this information with her during their weekly hour of supervision.

“Huh,” she finally said. “That’s… not good.”

“He’s a strange one, that one,” Dr. Shaker continued after another pause. “I hope he stops that.”

“I’m not sure if I should tell the program director about this,” she said. “It’s not like he’s touching me in inappropriate places or cat-calling me from across the room, right? Ultimately, it’s going to be my word against his and why should anyone believe me over him?”

“True, true,” Dr. Shaker murmured. “What have you tried to help tone this down?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I try not to interact with him if I don’t have to, but I am his resident. I can’t avoid him as much as I would like.”

“Hm,” Dr. Shaker said.

“He’s doing WHAT?!” Dr. Farmer exclaimed. His face had darkened as well, though he was clearly angry. He leaned forward in his chair, his sun-kissed hair flopping forward onto his face.

“Yeah,” she said, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. She wasn’t sure who she was feeling embarrassment for—Dr. Pritchard or herself. Why was this even happening?

“You need to tell your program director and end that rotation as soon as possible,” he firmly said. “This is not okay.”

“But it’s my word against his. He’s a tenured professor, I’m just a resident. I don’t have anything to show for this,” she said.

Dr. Farmer leaned back, still frowning. “I can talk to him, if you want. It’s completely inappropriate and if you’d like me to speak to him—”

“No, no,” she interrupted. Truthfully, she would have liked an intermediary, but she was also aware of potential negative consequences: If Dr. Farmer spoke to Dr. Pritchard about this, Dr. Pritchard could easily spin the story and cast the tale in an entirely different light. Dr. Pritchard could then also take punitive action against her, whether that meant making her life more difficult through covert means: Assigning more clinical work to her, writing a negative evaluation of her, or making the work environment even more hostile. Dr. Pritchard clearly had more leverage in this situation than her.

Furthermore, she didn’t want to involve more people in this situation than necessary. She didn’t wish to shame Dr. Pritchard publicly; she just didn’t want to be the recipient of this attention. And, given that she didn’t have any strong, concrete evidence about his behaviors that made her feel uncomfortable, she also didn’t want to proceed recklessly. She needed to maximize her likelihood of success of making a clean break, so to speak, and she also had a sense—though how reliable was this “sense”, anyway?—that he wouldn’t engage in frankly egregious behavior. Anyway, she knew where to kick him if the occasion presented itself.

“Thank you, though,” she added. She needed all the allies she could summon and, if for nothing else, the kind Dr. Farmer had at least validated her concerns: What was happening was not okay. She wasn’t just overreacting.

“That’s terrible,” her friends told her. “But you’re right: He’s got more power than you in this situation and until you have more evidence, it will turn into a ‘he said, she said’ sort of thing. That’s so gross.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m trying to avoid him as much as I can. When we’re in front of patients, it’s not so bad: He’s complimentary, but he’s still generally professional. I mean, he still puts his hand down his pants, but he doesn’t touch me as much as he used to—”

“—probably because he’s seen you flinch,” they said.

“Right,” she answered. “Supervision is the tricky part—he’s making supervision drag on longer and longer. I’ve been able to get myself out on time, but he has been asking more questions and bringing up random stuff more often these past few weeks.”

She visibly shuddered.

“Blech,” she said. “It is gross.”

Maybe I was too friendly—maybe I was doing something that made him think that I was flirting with him.

But this has never happened to you before. And you act the same way with all of your supervisors.

I should’ve said something sooner, maybe asked him that first day to not touch me.

And how many of your supervisors have routinely touched you? You were giving him the benefit of the doubt. You figured he would fulfill his professional role and behave in a professional fashion.

I should’ve been more cool and detached right after I met him.

Why? You spend half of your time with him in front of patients. You’re not like that with patients. That’s why they’re willing to still talk with you.

But there must be something about me that is making this go on and on and on.

Stop it. Maybe there is something about him that is making this go on and on and on.

I’m pretty sure that I wasn’t doing anything that would make him think that I was flirting with him. I don’t even flirt all that much with guys I like.

You know, he touched you the first day he met you. He might interpret anything you do as flirting.

I wish he would stop.

Yeah. So do I.

She created a new folder in her e-mail box and labelled it “Pritchard”. She began to save all of the e-mails he sent to her.