Where we last left off, the protagonist of this-here story (i.e. yours truly) had just gotten a written referral to see an endocrinologist to hopefully get prescribed hormones. I called the office, made the appointment, and waited something like two looooonnnnng months in a feverish anticipation that was riddled with both fear and apprehension. Talk about a fun two months.
Now when I called the doctor's office, I told them that I was coming in hoping to get prescribed hormones and all of that. They gladly took the appointment and didn't say anything that would make me think that this was not the place to go. Well, it wasn't.
When I finally met the doctor, he asked me why I was there. I thought that a question like this would have been addressed by what I said when I made the appointment. Obviously I was mistaken.
What followed was me nervously stammering my way through an explanation of what I wanted to do. I was having these feelings; I wanted to try hormones to either confirm these feelings as being one thing... or another. When the doctor wasn't sure what I was asking for, even after a long explanation, I explained it again, and quite possibly even a third time.
Finally, the doctor understood. Here's what he said (again, paraphrasing a bit here):
"I think that this is a crime against nature, and it's not how you were meant to be. I don't know why anyone would do this to himself. What are you hoping to get out of this? You were born a male and you'll always be a male. How could you want to do this to yourself? This is very, very wrong."
And so on... and so on. This went on for an excruciating five minutes. Finally, I just said, "Okay, I get it," and started to get myself together to go. Then this braying jackass had the stupendous amount of gall to ask me:
"Would you like us to keep your information on file in case you decide to come back here for treatment?"
Ummm... what??
My response was:
"Look, you obviously have a problem with this, so why would I ever want to be treated for something by someone who has a problem with it?"
"Well," he answered, "we have prescribed hormones for people before."
"But you have a problem with it, so why would I want YOU to prescribe them for me? So I can come back here and have you tell me about your problems with what I'm doing? No thanks."
"We could still keep your information on file..."
"That won't be necessary."
"Are you sure?"
"Ummm... yeah, I'm pretty certain."
WTF!?
I walked out of there and I was FURIOUS. People have problems with this kind of stuff, and whatever, I sort of understand that. However, how could you, as a "professional", start laying into someone like this... and then have the sheer audacity to ask me if I want to come back for treatment? Seriously, what IS that??
I was actually shaking when I walked out of the office. I didn't even know what to do. I was mad that he acted that way towards me. I was also pretty mortified by the fact that I went there in a pretty iffy emotional state, baring something that was VERY difficult for me to talk about even under the best of circumstances, and then I was met with a lecture about how I was a "crime against nature."
This experience, needless to say, was nothing but BAD.
As a postscript:
On the way home I was so upset that I stopped off at a pay phone to call a friend (remember pay phones?). While talking to her, I actually just started to laugh about the whole situation. Then I just started to feel kind of bad for the doctor. He was so blinded by his own fear and ignorance that he never took time to even look at the situation from a different perspective, or to talk to me about it, or to talk to anyone about it. He just decided to think what he thought about it and be magnificently blind as to what was really going on.
But as nervous and scared as I was, I got through it. Even with his wondrously supportive words scraping every soft nerve in my brain, I got through it... AND I wound up laughing it off soon after it went down. It made me stronger. It made me less afraid. It made me want to do it more... though I wouldn't be prescribed hormones til some five years later.
One final note:
When I next went back to my primary doctor and related the story, she was aghast at the endocrinologist's behavior. "Even if he does have a personal problem with it, it was HIGHLY unprofessional for him to talk to you like that."
Yeah, I'll tend to agree with that assessment.
As I've said, my primary kinda rocks.
That's all I got tonight.
I hope all is well.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
The Good, the Bad... and the Lovely
One of the trickier things about being trans is that sooner or later you have to actually discuss this personal decision with someone administering to your health care, i.e. a person who may very well be a complete stranger. This may be because it's pertinent to what you're being treated for, or it's just something you need to say due to the obvious physical differences that hormones bring to your world. What follows are three brief stories, which will be written over the course of three different posts, about different reactions to this news by the people who attend to physical health. We'll start with...
The Good
About seven years ago or so, I was deeply embroiled in the whole coming-to-terms phase with all the feelings I was having and what they actually meant. I was seeing a therapist, who, while not knowing much about the topic, was very helpful in getting me to admit to myself that what I was feeling (that I wanted to be a woman) was real, and that it would greatly behoove me to explore my options when it came to this.
I did a lot of reading on the topic of trying to figure out what these feelings actually meant, as this was the point where I was desperately trying to convince myself that I WASN'T trans. A course of action was discussed that seemed to be somewhat doable, as well as something that may indeed help me to better know what it was that I wanted. This was: To go on hormones for about three months or so, just to see how it made me feel. If I felt better and liked what was happening to my body (and to my mental state as well), it would be an indication that this may indeed be the path that I should follow. If I didn't like it, it would be an indication that something else was amiss, and I should start trying to figure out what that issue was. Additionally, all the changes that the hormones would cause in me after a mere three months would be completely reversible if I stopped taking them. So I wouldn't be permanently changed if I decided this wasn't for me. All in all it seemed like a great idea, and I was excited to try it. The issue was - where do I get prescribed hormones?
My therapist thought a great place to start would be with talking to my primary care physician (seems kind of obvious when I thought about it after she suggested it, but at the time, it sort of didn't dawn on me). The only problem I had was actually going in to tell my doctor that I was having these feelings and that I wanted to try hormones, because, at the time, I could barely even admit that to myself, let alone admitting it out loud to someone else. I mean, it took all of my courage to even just admit it to a therapist.
My therapist, however, saw my hesitance and apprehension, so she offered to call my primary and tell her what I was dealing with. She did. Which was super-awesome of her. A few weeks later I found myself in my primary's office, discussing all of this with her. Here's how she started our conversation (though I'm paraphrasing a bit here):
"I spoke with your therapist and she explained everything to me. This is obviously a very difficult personal decision your dealing with, and I'm not here to tell you whether you're right or wrong in what you're doing. That's not my job. My job is to ensure that no matter what you decide to do, you do it smartly, and you remain healthy.
"That being said, I have no experience with this, so I'm hesitant to prescribe you anything, because I wouldn't know what to prescribe. I suggest you talk to a doctor who would better know what to do and how to address this best."
It was then decided that I should go see an endocrinologist, as I read that this was where one should go if they wanted to get hormones and be safe about it. She had the referral written up immediately for an endocrinologist in the area, with more than enough visits to take care of any problems that may arise.
Since then, she has been nothing but understanding, very professional, and extremely helpful. I couldn't have dreamt of anything better. This experience... was nothing but good.
To be continued...
Be well.
The Good
About seven years ago or so, I was deeply embroiled in the whole coming-to-terms phase with all the feelings I was having and what they actually meant. I was seeing a therapist, who, while not knowing much about the topic, was very helpful in getting me to admit to myself that what I was feeling (that I wanted to be a woman) was real, and that it would greatly behoove me to explore my options when it came to this.
I did a lot of reading on the topic of trying to figure out what these feelings actually meant, as this was the point where I was desperately trying to convince myself that I WASN'T trans. A course of action was discussed that seemed to be somewhat doable, as well as something that may indeed help me to better know what it was that I wanted. This was: To go on hormones for about three months or so, just to see how it made me feel. If I felt better and liked what was happening to my body (and to my mental state as well), it would be an indication that this may indeed be the path that I should follow. If I didn't like it, it would be an indication that something else was amiss, and I should start trying to figure out what that issue was. Additionally, all the changes that the hormones would cause in me after a mere three months would be completely reversible if I stopped taking them. So I wouldn't be permanently changed if I decided this wasn't for me. All in all it seemed like a great idea, and I was excited to try it. The issue was - where do I get prescribed hormones?
My therapist thought a great place to start would be with talking to my primary care physician (seems kind of obvious when I thought about it after she suggested it, but at the time, it sort of didn't dawn on me). The only problem I had was actually going in to tell my doctor that I was having these feelings and that I wanted to try hormones, because, at the time, I could barely even admit that to myself, let alone admitting it out loud to someone else. I mean, it took all of my courage to even just admit it to a therapist.
My therapist, however, saw my hesitance and apprehension, so she offered to call my primary and tell her what I was dealing with. She did. Which was super-awesome of her. A few weeks later I found myself in my primary's office, discussing all of this with her. Here's how she started our conversation (though I'm paraphrasing a bit here):
"I spoke with your therapist and she explained everything to me. This is obviously a very difficult personal decision your dealing with, and I'm not here to tell you whether you're right or wrong in what you're doing. That's not my job. My job is to ensure that no matter what you decide to do, you do it smartly, and you remain healthy.
"That being said, I have no experience with this, so I'm hesitant to prescribe you anything, because I wouldn't know what to prescribe. I suggest you talk to a doctor who would better know what to do and how to address this best."
It was then decided that I should go see an endocrinologist, as I read that this was where one should go if they wanted to get hormones and be safe about it. She had the referral written up immediately for an endocrinologist in the area, with more than enough visits to take care of any problems that may arise.
Since then, she has been nothing but understanding, very professional, and extremely helpful. I couldn't have dreamt of anything better. This experience... was nothing but good.
To be continued...
Be well.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Stupidity Is Stupid
On a recent reunion-centered trip back to my old college, I came across a friend of a friend who I knew vaguely 15 years ago. This guy and I seemed to hit it off pretty well during our reintroduction, and, having some things in common, we got to talking a decent amount over the course of the weekend. The conversation at one point drifted into him talking about his marriage, and that was followed by a very friendly and casual, "So, are you married... or do you like guys...?"
A question of this sort makes sense when posed to me, as I guess I give off a "vibe" or I "have an air about me" that says that I'm not your standard heterosexual guy. Since I'm not that, and since gay people are far more numerous and visible than trans people, it's a fairly natural assumption to make about someone who you suspect of being not-heterosexual. In short, no one has ever met me and jumped to the assumption that I'm trans.
More recently, while at a reunion of people who used to work at my current company, I was told by a friend that a former coworker of ours (who I really didn't even talk to that night) asked if I was gay. Putting off a vibe indeed.
All of this really shouldn't surprise me, yet it still kind of does. I think this is because I have no idea of what I'm projecting to the world at large. In essence, I am really just out there trying to be more as I see myself to be, and, based on the frequency of these questions, it seems like I'm succeeding in this effort.
This is big for me because...
When I first started to get a handle on what I was feeling and told a few close friends about it, I was TERRIFIED of anyone else even suspecting that I was anything out of the norm. I went through a great deal of worrying about what people knew about me, what they didn't know, etc. etc. I was afraid of even being seen as gay, which may seem slightly ludicrous in 2009 with gay acceptance in our society growing at exponential levels (YAY!), but at the time, it scared me senseless.
I never wanted to be anything other than what everyone else was... at least when it came to this. I never had anything against gay people or trans people, but I didn't want to be labeled as one. Part of this is because I generally hate to be defined by a label, as labels provide the launch pad for people to make erroneous assumptions about other people. The other part had to do with, I would think, the fact that I was fighting all the feelings I was having, and the more people who I admitted this to, and the more people who knew about it, would only serve to make all these feelings more real.
Additionally, even just 10 years ago, while it was still okay in certain circles to deviate from the heterosexual paradigm, it certainly isn't accepted like it is today. This in and of itself would (and I'm sure still does) keep people closeted.
In the years since I first fearfully started telling people close to me how I was feeling, a lot of the concerns I had about what people were thinking about me and my sexuality have greatly dissipated. In social settings I'm growing increasingly unconcerned and blasé about it all. Where I once used to be terrified by the thought of people knowing anything about this, I am now completely unconcerned as to who knows what's going on with me in any instance of my social world.
There is only one exception to this statement at this point and time: At Work.
Now everyone is a different shade of themselves while at work; it's just sort of the nature of the beast. However, I was told by a friend and fellow coworker recently that the difference between Work Me and Social Me is "much more so than the av-er-age bear." (And yes, I loved the reference.)
In work I have played things pretty close to the cuff. Not so much that I would go and salivate over pictures of well-endowed women with the guys in the workplace just to "fit in", but that I really didn't give an indication one way or the other. My actions were much more a pretty accurate representation of the I'm Totally a Guy... Just a Different Kind of Guy mask that I wore for years (and wore quite well, I might add, as I'm apparently a pretty good actor).
And I should say here that I don't even really care if the people I work with know this about me or not. Interestingly enough, when people know about this it actually makes my interactions with them better and less awkward. They have some general sense of who I am, I can relate to people better, and I get related to better. Where my concern comes into play is: I live and work in a place where I can actually be fired solely for being trans with NO legal recourse, and this sad fact isn't at all uncommon in our country today.
Though I should pause here to say that people in many states and situations can still get fired for being gay, and they too would have no legal recourse for being dismissed in such a fashion. The company that employs me, however, has sexual orientation written into their non-discrimination policy. Gender identity, which would cover someone like myself, is not yet given the same protection. It's for this reason that I'm really in no rush to out myself to everyone I work with.
The troubling thing about this is that even with my more open social attitude, I was still concerned about people at work thinking that I'm gay. Like I didn't want them to even have an inkling that there was anything about me that was out of the ordinary, even with this non-discrimination policy in place.
This was stupid of me. This was fear and whatever other horrible emotions rearing a collective head to keep me from any overt behaviors that would make anything about me seem questionable. As I said, this was stupid of me. Especially if what I am actually rankles people more than being gay does.
I recently realized this stupidity, and have taken measures to get over it. I made a conscious decision recently to be more myself in work; whatever that means, and whatever that will mean. So, people around my office may start seeing me as gay. At one time I would have been scared shitless about this happening; now I see it as a good thing. It means that I AM being more who I am, and if people are going to think what they're going to think about me anyway, why shouldn't I at least be someone who's being as true to themselves as they can possibly be?
So, like I said, one day soon I may be thought of as this gay guy in my workplace (if I'm not actually already). Again, this is a big and important step for me... and a good thing in every possible way that this can be a good thing.
Be well.
A question of this sort makes sense when posed to me, as I guess I give off a "vibe" or I "have an air about me" that says that I'm not your standard heterosexual guy. Since I'm not that, and since gay people are far more numerous and visible than trans people, it's a fairly natural assumption to make about someone who you suspect of being not-heterosexual. In short, no one has ever met me and jumped to the assumption that I'm trans.
More recently, while at a reunion of people who used to work at my current company, I was told by a friend that a former coworker of ours (who I really didn't even talk to that night) asked if I was gay. Putting off a vibe indeed.
All of this really shouldn't surprise me, yet it still kind of does. I think this is because I have no idea of what I'm projecting to the world at large. In essence, I am really just out there trying to be more as I see myself to be, and, based on the frequency of these questions, it seems like I'm succeeding in this effort.
This is big for me because...
When I first started to get a handle on what I was feeling and told a few close friends about it, I was TERRIFIED of anyone else even suspecting that I was anything out of the norm. I went through a great deal of worrying about what people knew about me, what they didn't know, etc. etc. I was afraid of even being seen as gay, which may seem slightly ludicrous in 2009 with gay acceptance in our society growing at exponential levels (YAY!), but at the time, it scared me senseless.
I never wanted to be anything other than what everyone else was... at least when it came to this. I never had anything against gay people or trans people, but I didn't want to be labeled as one. Part of this is because I generally hate to be defined by a label, as labels provide the launch pad for people to make erroneous assumptions about other people. The other part had to do with, I would think, the fact that I was fighting all the feelings I was having, and the more people who I admitted this to, and the more people who knew about it, would only serve to make all these feelings more real.
Additionally, even just 10 years ago, while it was still okay in certain circles to deviate from the heterosexual paradigm, it certainly isn't accepted like it is today. This in and of itself would (and I'm sure still does) keep people closeted.
In the years since I first fearfully started telling people close to me how I was feeling, a lot of the concerns I had about what people were thinking about me and my sexuality have greatly dissipated. In social settings I'm growing increasingly unconcerned and blasé about it all. Where I once used to be terrified by the thought of people knowing anything about this, I am now completely unconcerned as to who knows what's going on with me in any instance of my social world.
There is only one exception to this statement at this point and time: At Work.
Now everyone is a different shade of themselves while at work; it's just sort of the nature of the beast. However, I was told by a friend and fellow coworker recently that the difference between Work Me and Social Me is "much more so than the av-er-age bear." (And yes, I loved the reference.)
In work I have played things pretty close to the cuff. Not so much that I would go and salivate over pictures of well-endowed women with the guys in the workplace just to "fit in", but that I really didn't give an indication one way or the other. My actions were much more a pretty accurate representation of the I'm Totally a Guy... Just a Different Kind of Guy mask that I wore for years (and wore quite well, I might add, as I'm apparently a pretty good actor).
And I should say here that I don't even really care if the people I work with know this about me or not. Interestingly enough, when people know about this it actually makes my interactions with them better and less awkward. They have some general sense of who I am, I can relate to people better, and I get related to better. Where my concern comes into play is: I live and work in a place where I can actually be fired solely for being trans with NO legal recourse, and this sad fact isn't at all uncommon in our country today.
Though I should pause here to say that people in many states and situations can still get fired for being gay, and they too would have no legal recourse for being dismissed in such a fashion. The company that employs me, however, has sexual orientation written into their non-discrimination policy. Gender identity, which would cover someone like myself, is not yet given the same protection. It's for this reason that I'm really in no rush to out myself to everyone I work with.
The troubling thing about this is that even with my more open social attitude, I was still concerned about people at work thinking that I'm gay. Like I didn't want them to even have an inkling that there was anything about me that was out of the ordinary, even with this non-discrimination policy in place.
This was stupid of me. This was fear and whatever other horrible emotions rearing a collective head to keep me from any overt behaviors that would make anything about me seem questionable. As I said, this was stupid of me. Especially if what I am actually rankles people more than being gay does.
I recently realized this stupidity, and have taken measures to get over it. I made a conscious decision recently to be more myself in work; whatever that means, and whatever that will mean. So, people around my office may start seeing me as gay. At one time I would have been scared shitless about this happening; now I see it as a good thing. It means that I AM being more who I am, and if people are going to think what they're going to think about me anyway, why shouldn't I at least be someone who's being as true to themselves as they can possibly be?
So, like I said, one day soon I may be thought of as this gay guy in my workplace (if I'm not actually already). Again, this is a big and important step for me... and a good thing in every possible way that this can be a good thing.
Be well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)