Waiting is something survivors of sexual violence know too well. Waiting for justice. Waiting for accountability. Waiting to heal. But before any of that, there is another wait – one that should never happen. It is the wait for forensic medical exams, a crucial first step in seeking justice and closure.
I know because I lived it.
The night I was raped, I called my best friend. Through tears and shock, I told her what had happened. She told me to call 1800RESPECT because they were the experts. I did, and they were kind. They reassured me that I wasn’t alone and told me I needed medical attention because my assault had been violent. They also asked if I wanted to undergo a forensic medical exam. I said yes.
I was told to go to a “large public hospital” for the exam. So I dressed – slowly, painfully, in a fog of disbelief – and made my way to one of the bigger hospitals. Surely, they would be able to do the exam there.
The staff were gentle, understanding. They treated my injuries with care. But when it came time for the forensic exam, they told me they couldn’t do it. I had to go to another hospital further away. Apparently, this was the only place offering forensic examinations that night. So I left. I drove further away from my home, further into the night, still wearing the evidence of my assault on my skin.
All I could think about was taking a shower. I wanted him off me. I felt his presence everywhere – on my clothes, in my hair, on my skin. But I couldn’t wash him away. Not yet. If I wanted a chance at justice, I had to wait.
At this hospital, a specialist social worker met me. She was warm and calm, explaining what would happen next. A specialist forensic nurse had been called in. She was 30 minutes away. I could wait. Thirty minutes was manageable.
Then the minutes stretched into hours. Another woman had arrived before me, needing the same forensic exam. There was only one forensic nurse. She had to see her first. The process is slow. There are questions, invasive swabs, photographs of injuries. This was not something that could be rushed.
Five hours later, I was still waiting. In the grand scheme of things, my wait was an inconvenience – horrific, unnecessary, but it didn’t stop me from reporting or getting tested. The forensic nurse and social worker were incredibly compassionate. They were not the problem. The problem was the system that left me sitting in that room for hours, still unable to shower, because there was only one nurse available who could do this exam.
I think about the women who don’t have a car, who live in more remote areas, who wait not hours but days for a forensic exam. How many give up? How many walk away because the system makes it too hard? How many perpetrators go free because crucial evidence is lost?
By the time my forensic exam was over, I had been in and out of waiting rooms for 10 hours. Ten hours before I could finally turn on a shower. It was cold, the water pressure was weak, but it was the best shower of my life.
No survivor should have to wait that long. No survivor should be told their only option is one single hospital. If we are serious about justice for sexual violence survivors, we need better funding for forensic nurses, more hospitals equipped to provide these exams, and a system that understands that every minute a survivor waits, they are forced to live in the immediate aftermath of their assault.
I was willing to wait because I felt I had no choice. But for too many survivors, that wait means the difference between justice and silence. And that is unacceptable – no survivor should have to endure these devastating delays. We must build a system that truly serves survivors when they need it most.
• Information and support for anyone affected by rape or sexual abuse issues is available from the following organisations. In Australia, support is available at 1800Respect (1800 737 732). In the UK, Rape Crisis offers support on 0808 500 2222. In the US, Rainn offers support on 800-656-4673. Other international helplines can be found at ibiblio.org/rcip/internl.html
