#metoo, Part One
My appointment had been squeezed into his schedule because it was considered urgent but that meant his entire staff was at lunch. During the consult, he stared unabashedly at my breasts. I was not dressed provocatively. I should not have to say that.
After the exam, with my pupils still fully dilated and, for some reason, in an exam chair which was fully reclined, he wrote his notes with my chart balanced on my chest.
He was a retina specialist charged with determining if I was going blind. I was, but he didn't catch it. He was looking somewhere else.