Women Physicians: Breaking Barriers in Patient Diagnosis

To Physician Chen,
at the south market road,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write not only about herbs this time, but to share a frustration I believe you will understand.

Recently, I was asked to consult on a woman from a respectable household. Before I was called, a male physician had already attended her, though “attended” is perhaps too generous a word. As custom requires, he remained behind a screen. The patient extended her wrist, and he made his diagnosis without ever seeing her face.

You know the practice.

I do not question his learning, yet I cannot help but question what he was permitted to do with it.

When I arrived, I saw at once what could not be known from the pulse alone. Her complexion was dull and uneven, her eyes strained, and there was a swelling that no description had properly conveyed. The household had done its best, but words are poor substitutes for sight.

It troubled me more than I expected.

We are told this arrangement preserves propriety, and perhaps it does. But it also preserves distance—between physician and patient, between symptom and understanding. A screen may guard reputation, yet it obscures truth.

I find myself wondering how often such cases are missed or delayed, simply because the physician must not look.

And yet, this same custom grants us our place and daily work.

Because we are women, we are allowed to see what others cannot. We may observe directly, speak plainly, and hear what is often left unsaid in the presence of men. I am reminded, again, that our work is not only permitted—it is necessary.

Have you found the same in your practice? Do your patients speak more freely with no screen between you?

When next you write, tell me also whether Madam Wang’s dried orange peel is of better quality this season. The last batch I received was more bitter than usual. I suspect she has changed her source. She has not admitted it.

May your patients be honest and your remedies effective,

Li Zhenyan