Decidedly Obscure Human Complaints.

After seeing my blog post about Antony and the Johnsons with their beautiful Hope There's Someone video, my friend Andrew exposed me to heaps upon piles atop a mountain of additional Antony and the Johnsons stuff - which keyed me in to another song of theirs called ' For Today I Am A Boy ', which is just as good. So last night I, as per diligent old man student usual, went to bed at 10pm for my classes this morning. But, then I woke up around 3am from a discomfort I'd felt before and confused me the first time around, on December 21st . But now, Round 2, I knew exactly what it was - menstrual cramps. These new post-hormone therapy cramps are similar to what I'd experienced before; but different enough that I couldn't quite peg it initially. Unlike before, these are not distinctly painful, just, really uncomfortable . I have to pee repeatedly. I can't sleep. It's obnoxious. At the least, this is becoming predictable. It hasn't happened since De...

Finals, at long brutal last and as all wonderful things do, came to an end on the 14th. Since then I have spent my time in recovery-mode NOT writing and lounging around. So now here I am, ready to write. Something peculiar happened last week. Last Monday, like the diligent student that I am, I went to bed at 10pm-almost-on-the-dot. About an hour later I woke up, all... uncomfortable-like. It took me about a half hour to fall back asleep and, again, I woke up all... uncomfortable-like. I rationalized that, since my last two finals were that following Tuesday morning back-to-back starting at 8am, perhaps I was stressed or nervous, causing me to feel off. Although, I wasn't thinking anything anxiety-inducing, it was the only thing I could come up with. I then forced myself to get back to sleep. So this process repeated, over and over, about five times until I woke up again at 4am, pissed, uncomfortable-like, and defeated. And then it dawned on me. Was I having menstrual cram...

These past couple days have been emotionally taxing. Especially because today is injection day and my hormone levels have been extremely low. I may need to ask my doctor about what to do about this. I inject every 2 weeks. I'm fine for about 11 days - but, by days 12 and 13, I'm not doing so good. I'm foggy, lethargic, sensitive, moody. I wish there was a way to administer a small dose on a daily basis, rather than a huge dump on one day that tapers off until I inject again. Transdermal testosterone is applied to the skin daily, but I'm not sure it's a viable option for me. I'll ask my doctor about it. For now, through the online grapevine I've read that changes via transdermal testosterone are slower. Which is fine for me, if it means that I don't end up feeling so awful every 2 weeks. According to Hudson's FTM Guide : Transdermal testosterone is usually applied to the skin daily in small doses in an effort to keep a steady level of testoste...

Just a few months ago the idea of sticking a needle into my thigh every 2 weeks wasn't, in the slightest, an enticing one. I went from whimpering and  asking friends and family to do it for me  to becoming the no needle fearin' boy I am today! I just finished today's injection. I look forward to every other Thursday like it's a trans Christmas, when I get to inject again and experience my body and mind connect more and more every.single.day. It's wonderful. When preparing, I wipe the injection point on my thigh with a little alcohol wipe. I remember my first injection on December 11th when I wiped my hairless, soft thigh. Today? It's harder, and a twirl of wet hairs are left behind after wiping the area. Gross, I know. But great. I'm still on the same prescription that I started out on - 100mg of Testosterone Cypionate every 2 weeks, injection via a 25g syringe into any muscle. Right after injecting I looked in the mirror to enthusiastically examine m...

My visit to the doctor last Friday wasn't as satisfying as I'd anticipated. Essentially, she's incredibly blunt and honest. She doesn't do the usual " don't worry " vague doctor shindig, but instead opts to tell me how it is. This is a good thing and I appreciate it, but, on the toss side, the news is rarely encouraging or what I'd prefer to hear. For example, I explained to her how I actually want to attempt to preserve a semblance of functioning and health in my reproductive organs throughout this process. She instantly assumed that I wanted to remain fertile (Gah! NO!), so I tried to clarify that I only care about not having them atrophy into my stomach or something - and, more importantly, to be able to function enough that they'll produce hormones and menstruate when I stop testosterone therapy. I suspect she's not used to necessarily caring about the preservation or monitoring of a trans guy's ovaries and uterus since, in most t...

I've cracked and asked a friend of mine who just recently graduated from massage college to, well, massage my rapidly-increasing-bone-and-muscle-density ligaments-and-tendons-are-pissed-off back tonight. I keep obsessing over how relieving and blissful it's going to be. Wooo... About half a year ago this same friend called me up and asked if she could give me a "practice massage" while she was still enlisted in school. To me, 'massage' translated to: lay there, essentially nude under a sheet, vulnerable and exposed - and for someone who's uncomfortable with their body, that has never sounded enticing. Still, for the first time I actually felt receptive to such an offer. For one, she's a really sweet and respectful person; and two, she needed to practice! And what better practice than a horribly uncomfortable trans individual who has never had an actual massage before in his life? A few days later I scooted over to her place. She had a massage ...

Yesterday my friend, Gina, came over to help me bury my little friend. We made him a grave by a cute tree that will be nourished with little bits of Socrates for years to come (it sounds creepy, but it's true). I placed his little body in there with my left hand, buried him, then went inside to comfort Ben. Ben hadn't left his little house all day. He was acting frazzled and afraid, but when I held him and cupped him in my left hand, his little nose sniffed it and he instantly calmed down. Then he licked my hand for about 10 minutes, which he'd never done before. Here's the last image of my little baby Socrates, suckling on his water bottle: Sigh . So today I'm back at work, although I feel like I've accomplished a double-flake-whammy. Over a month ago I promised to speak on an LGBQT panel today up at the University of Utah, the theme being " In the spirit of reducing hate and its companion - fear, we offer the stories of these panelists. By knowi...

I'm no longer feeling like the grime mopped off a slaughterhouse floor to make hot dogs. I'm not entirely the most energetic yet, but I'm definitely feeling my mind clicking back into action and my body feels like peddling around furiously, even in today's snow storm. This is a good thing. I canceled today's appointment with my hormone doctor after it dawned on me that my prescription allows for more refills. I'm not really hip to the prescribed medicine jive yet, see. Getting the hang of it. Still, I wanted an appointment for the prescription, but also to talk about my concerns surrounding a predicted buildup of endometrial tissue (which is usually shed during menstruation - I believe this most recent one was my last, or very near to last), especially during the first few years. I want to ask her about taking progesterone every so often to shed the excess endometrial tissue as a preventative measure. It's a bit tricky, trying to achieve a compromise ...

Yesterday I was on a public mens restroom ROLL. It's interesting to me that, despite the anxiety I've experienced in regards to the prospect of using mens restrooms (in regards to mostly being concerned about a potentially violent or embarrassing encounter if I don't "pass"), it's been much more comfortable than using public womens restrooms has ever been. I'd just adjusted. It felt normal to constantly anticipate that there would be a scene, that someone may gasp or scream, that security might be called; that someone would walk in, walk out to double-check the sign, and walk in again and tell me I'm in the wrong bathroom. On and on. The fact that going into male-only spaces that are potentially physically dangerous is LESS anxiety-inducing than using womens restrooms has been is just, astounding to me. And this is throughout my teenage and adult life, even prior to coming out as a trans person. Frequently I felt the urge to do something to fem...

I feel so relaxed right now. I just got home from volunteering for hours out at the Ching Farm Animal Rescue & Sanctuary with a few friends, which is located in Herriman, Utah - about a 20 minute drive from downtown Salt Lake City. It's more exhausting than it should be. I know that feeling this way is entirely a byproduct of being pampered city folk. I whimpered so much lifting things and coming across spider webs and trying to avoid slipping in poo that I was told that I " need more testosterone " and, " Aww, are your man muscles just developing? " Oh my friends are loving this new genre of masculine stereotype jokes. I have it coming. The sanctuary, by the way, is actually the home of an adorable couple who moved out there years ago with absolutely no intention of becoming a sanctuary. Low and behold, one injured, heart-wrenching farm animal after another came their way and it became the place that it is today where a bundle of pigs, horses, cows, m...

As I mentioned in my first post - and the entire reason it's taken me so long to start testosterone hormone therapy - I'm a bit of a prematurely aged safety nut. I've never tried alcohol (unless NyQuil counts). I've never tried recreational drugs. I'm vegan. I bicycle as my main form of transportation year-round. I try to work out every day. I weaning off sugar and soda pop. Moral of the story being, now that I have started hormone therapy, I've been very concerned about the immediate and long-term future here in regards to my uterus and ovaries. Despite having my transition plan that entails taking T for a max of 5 years, I'm anxious about increasing any long-term risks of liver damage or cancer of my completely unnecessary and obnoxious reproductive organs (uterus/endometrium, cervix, and/or ovaries). Hopefully I'm just being too cautious and there really isn't anything to worry about. Still, I am who I am, and this is what I do. The reality i...

Today feels like the first day my body realized a fierce and mighty war is afoot. For years my mind has been sitting in the corner mumbling and grumbling while my body is out in the spot light, living it up. But now, the playing field has changed. Estrogen is charging, testosterone is gaining in strength. Little do they know that, right at the cusp, right when they meet in the middle and think that one is going to slaughter the other, I'm going to descend from the sky wearing a bright yellow cape over a glistening leotard tightly cinching a mighty cod piece, holding a sparkling wand and dawning a full, thick beard - and then, I shall mediate. I will tell them to stop quivering with rage, to shake hands, hug, and to agree to disagree. In just this small amount of time I've noticed a gradual, but swift, change in my body fat. On a very exciting note, I noticed something while my mind oogled the change in body fat, even facially. I have THREE NEW WHISKERS! I have one new one on ...