Chloe N. L. Lee is a psychiatry resident.
I recall a particularly tense interaction on my surgery rotation in medical school. The sub-intern on our team, a dedicated classmate of mine, was instructed to carry the call pager one Friday afternoon, to the undue chagrin of the team’s nurse practitioner. With an irritable toss of her blonde hair, eyes rolling with exasperation, the NP snappily handed off the pager to our sub-intern. “Ugh, this is going to slow …
The luridness of it made me feel like the female lead in a bad Lifetime movie. The person whom I trusted most was a monster: an affair with a middle-aged prostitute who verbally abused me, an Ashley Madison account, and countless payments to sex workers – those were the tip of the repulsive iceberg that was my relationship.
And sadly, these were the least of my problems. My once-kind then-partner’s face …
Six seconds is the amount of time it would have taken for him to render me unconscious.
Shortly thereafter, I might have lost my life.
One month before I finally found the strength to leave an abusive ex-partner, he rushed at me with unexpected force during an argument and wrapped his hands around my throat. I kicked desperately at his chest, terrified, heart racing, during what I believed might be my final …
Get free updates delivered free to your inbox.
