Sex, gender, and yet another complaint

“I’m going to sit behind you and call the hospital to let them know we’re coming, okay?”

“Okay”

<Ring, ring>

“Emergency Room, Brandy.”

“Hey¬†Brandy, it’s C on Med 2. I’ve got a report for you.”

“Alright, whatchagot?”

“We’re about ten minutes away. We have a twenty-year-old male who-

“Umm, excuse me?”

“Hang on a sec, Brandy…Yes?”

“Umm, did you just assume my gender?”

“Did I what?”

“Did you just ASSUME my GENDER?”

“I have no idea – what – no…wait – what?”

“You don’t know me, and you just ASSUME that I’m a MAN?”

“Well, I did see your penis a few minutes ago, remember? When you were running around your apartment naked and screaming?”

“That doesn’t make me a MAN!”

“But, like, seriously, you have a penis. Your sex is male. Your gender is none of-”

“My penis doesn’t make me a man!”

***

Seriously, though. Sex and gender are two different things. A patient’s gender doesn’t matter one bit to me, and neither does their sex. A patient’s sex only matters on the PCR, and in the patient report. I’m just saying, if you’ve got a penis, your sex is male. That doesn’t mean your gender is, but again, I don’t care.

I really don’t have time for this. I’m getting tired of writing these reports.

 

Comments

  1. Another reminder of the benefits of being retired from active ambulance work. I really had no patience for that, even the days when you couldn’t get in trouble for bullshit like that. Now, I’d probably last about three hours before I’d have to write my first incident report.

    It’s no longer enough to just do excellent patient care. Now we have to be some sort of social worker/baby sitter/sensitivity counselor.

  2. Flash Larry says:

    Oh, Lord, don’t give me that call. People will learn in a hurry how “not nice” I really am underneath.

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