Moses Butze
In April 2020, two female doctors were attacked with stones in India while carrying out covid-19 screening tests. The fact, broadcast by many news outlets, was not isolated, but was one of thousands of cases reported around the world throughout the pandemic. At the 73rd Assembly of the World Medical Association it was noted that violence once morest health workers (HCW) has increased in the last decade with a drastic increase during the impact of the coronavirus.
In 2019, a meta-analysis that included studies from all continents estimated that the prevalence of workplace violence once morest SWs by patients and visitors was up to 61 percent in the last 12 months, with physical aggression occurring up to in 24 percent of them. Although this analysis focused on violence by patients and visitors, multiple studies in all regions of the world have documented that co-workers and supervisors are also the ones who are part of this phenomenon towards SWs and more frequently once morest women .
They represent 70 percent of the health workforce in the world and are the ones who during the pandemic have mostly carried out community work, such as delivery care, nursing care, outreach and education and, therefore, are exposed more to those attacks.
For decades, women have performed the work of caregivers and although in Mexico they represent up to 22 percent of GDP, their remuneration is only 0.2 percent, thus marking a gap of tremendous inequality with respect to men. Added to the above is the increase in intra-domiciliary violence derived from the pandemic, especially once morest them, which places SWs in a very vulnerable context. If, in addition, we take into account that only 6 percent of women have managerial positions in the health sector in Mexico, the panorama as TS is bleak.
Since the beginning of the pandemic, I have used my social networks to offer useful information so that people can better face the circumstances. For more than a year and a half, I broadcast “FB lives” open to the public every week in order to spread the latest science and recommendations according to expert panels. Since then I have kept my phone on silent because the questions, doubts and queries through messages and calls are endless (friends, relatives, extended family, acquaintances and strangers, colleagues, friends of colleagues, my daughters’ school community…) and I really mightn’t coexist or continue with my personal life if I responded in real time. Even so, I respond to everyone with my best effort and knowledge, and although strictly all are medical consultations and represent time, I have decided to do so out of altruism and to honor thinking that it is a way to contribute to the community.
Physicians are obliged to attend to medical emergencies that endanger the lives of affected people when they occur in public and private places, as long as we are in a safe place to do so. We are also obliged to respond for the care of hospitalized people under our care, or for the care and follow-up derived from outpatient consultations established between patients and us. It is not our obligation to attend to the health of any citizen just because they contact you by cell phone through messages. For that there are consultations and established times. If it is something urgent, there are emergency services.
A few days ago I exposed on Twitter the exchange of messages with a person I did not know, who did not know how he had obtained my number and who was looking for me to see if I would attend him due to covid-19, to which I replied the next day, that I regretted not responding on Fridays at 11:30 p.m. This unleashed deep outrage among many, went viral and led to a wave of violence without limit. Insults were not lacking: they called me “asshole, asshole, spoiled, güevona, mamadora, sucker, conceited, unethical, dry vulva” and more. They thought it was fatal that I put limits on my life (which is my right, without breaking any obligation or professional ethics), but they didn’t mind violating me or being violated.
Interestingly, just a day before, I posted a photo of a doctor visiting visibly sick while wearing an IV. That went unnoticed. In social networks, they are not outraged by the mistreatment of doctors in training: their terrible working hours, that they eat poor quality food and that they sleep in miserable places, that they have to buy their protective equipment or their low salaries. That does not outrage; Wow, they are even annoyed that we charge for our work, which is like any other and from which our families live.
So far in the pandemic and in this same network, I have seen doctors who have also tried to spread the best medical and scientific information that is useful and, however, many times they have been violated for talking regarding controversial or uncomfortable topics. ; being criticized for the color of their skin or their body, calling them “whores, sluts, blowjobs, assholes” and much more. Most of the time said violence comes from the comfort of anonymity, but this does not take away from the violence. Given this, there are no consequences and there is no outrage here either for this violence once morest women.
Mistreatment and violence in social networks towards professionals are not new, unfortunately. Political scientists, journalists, politicians and athletes suffer from it. In the specific case of women health professionals, it is not surprising when the deterioration of our image as a union comes precisely from the highest authorities in the country. But, if we really seek to strengthen health systems, which are mostly made up of us, in order to face this and the pandemics to come, we must demand as a society that the well-being and safety of all be guaranteed.
Brenda Crabtree Ramirez*
@BrendaCrabtreeR
* Infectologist and Researcher. She belongs to the National System of Researchers, level 2. Representative of the Governing Council for Latin America and the Caribbean of the International AIDS Society.