I feel dirty.

I just started a new job – you know how that goes, right? You don’t where anything is, where you’re supposed to be, or what you’re really supposed to be doing. (Although I am pretty sure whatever it is, I am doing it wrong.)  It’s stressful to start something new and try to make a good impression as you figure things out. I’m very much the newbie right now; I don’t know everyone’s name, or even have my own key to the staff bathroom, for that matter.

So a few nights ago, when my new boss called me and asked if I was willing to attend a meeting after work the next day to learn about our new system of allergy testing, I said yes. After all, it’s never good to say no to your boss about something educational-sounding, especially when you’re still trying to make a good impression.

But as the details emerged, it became clear that the “meeting” she mentioned was a dinner sponsored by the company that makes the allergy test. I was so disappointed when I started realizing what was going on. I had been really proud of myself for never having once attended a dinner intending to sell me, and hence my patients, some kind of drug or device.

I didn’t know what I should do, but in the end I decided I didn’t have the balls to say no to the new boss quite yet, especially since before I quite knew what the meeting really was for she had made special efforts to secure me a ride to and from the event, which was upstate.

So there I was the next night, standing outside of the clinic under the #2 train elevated platform, waiting for my ride and feeling like a coward for not having the guts to tell my boss the truth. Every time a train passed overheard, the shaking made me feel a little more queasy. Soon, I saw a dark sedan pull up, and a short, stubby man with slicked back blond hair and a thick face jumped out and called out my name. “Hey, Doc! I’m here to take you to dinner!” he said.

Once we were on our way and making awkward small talk, I realized that he was the sales rep! It wasn’t a hired taxi as I had imagined it would be…the actual company representative came personally to pick me up. Now I really felt like I was sleeping with the enemy. Queasy factor – up a few more notches.

The whole night just felt sleazy to me. I couldn’t believe how much money they were spending taking us out to dinner. The “meeting” about the specific lab test they made was only a quick, 10 minutes sales pitch. The rest of the time the company guys (there were three of them) just made small talk with the doctors (there were five of us), mostly about the amazing food. To add to my guilt, it was a really good restaurant. Mario Batali. There was this goat cheese, pistachio, truffle honey pizza that seriously made me never want to eat anything against lest it should tar the memory of what I had just tasted.

Enjoying the food made queasy bump to straight up nausea.

I felt bad enough by that point to ask for a taxi home early, and soon enough, I was on my way back to lower Manhattan. The sales company, of course, paid. I couldn’t help but ask the driver how much he had charged the company for my ride, which would easily be close to 90 minutes long. It was a lot. Enough to pay for allergy medications for a patient for an entire year. That thought resounded in my head the whole way back home.

I felt dirty. I feel dirty, still.

I realized that night that many of the physicians I work with, especially my boss, are not infrequently in contact with various pharma and other sales reps. So for me to take a personal stance against it not only tells them my view on the matter, but also casts judgement onto their actions. It’s a little bit of a slippery slope. How can you tell someone that you prefer not to participate in something because you believe it is inappropriate, even somewhat immoral, but hey they should go on and have a great time? I really don’t want to be on a high-horse with my colleagues. After all, it’s hard to rock the boat when you don’t quite have your sea legs.

I don’t know if I have much of a point to this story. I guess it’s just to say, without intending to be melodramatic about it, that I really am disturbed about the whole thing. Not having the courage to say what I wanted to. Not having the conviction to act on my principles. I feel like I compromised my integrity, and it’s a bad feeling.

I know someday soon, when my boss asks me to attend such an event again, I’m going to have to tell her why I choose not to go. I can’t do what I did that night again. It’s going to be very awkward, I’m sure. But it can’t be any worse than feeling the way I do now.

I hope.