Decidedly Obscure Human Complaints.

Be forewarned: I am about to launch into a whiny spiel about how stressful it has been meeting with trans-unaware OB-GYNs while I'm insured in hopes that they won't a) refer to me as a "post-menopausal woman" and b) will, at the very least, listen to me about my preventative interest in an oophorectomy (removal of ovaries) and a hysterectomy (removal of the uterus). But before said spiel, a brief update is in order. As a reminder since it's been a minute, I am presently living in Maryland to complete my federal service "payback" as an NIH (National Institutes of Health) Undergraduate Scholarship post-baccalaureate (i.e. 4-year college graduate) research fellow. Throughout the duration of my payback I have been nervous about blogging after I signed a gazillion + 1 forms about not representing myself as the NIH or a federal employee. So, quick disclaimer before I proceed: I am not blogging on behalf of the NIH or as a federal employee. Alright, now w...

Here's the documentary I referred to in my previous post. It is about the case of David Reimer, who as a baby boy suffered a botched circumcision and unsuccessfully raised as a girl. He eventually committed suicide. This was the recommendation of a doctor named John Money, who believed that gender identity is entirely socially determined and malleable.

I can't wait to graduate and get back to blogging. My writing juice well gets sucked dry every semester. But, I just learned that I graduate on June 1st and as per the awesome scholarship I received from the National Institutes of Health (NIH), I fly out to Maryland for June 2nd. Then I officially begin my internship with them on June 3rd. A little bit ago I got to head out there for a couple of days to meet prospective mentors - all of whom were wonderful. A couple of weeks ago I learned what lab I'll be working in and I am beyond excited. That's an update in a ridiculously compressed nutshell, but now I need to run off to study for an exam. It's for a course titled "Behavioral Endocrinology", which is just intimidating scaryfancy speak for "How Hormones Influence Behavior". Which is right up my alley. In fact, we're required to watch a film called Sex Unknown prior to the exam, which I'm astounded that I'd never heard of or watched...

I just self-injected! Finally! It's been a little over 9 months that I suddenly, for no reason, couldn't self-inject . It was bizarre, because I'd been self-injecting testosterone cypionate into my thigh for almost three years with no fear and very little problems. And then, bam! - I just, couldn't . Confused and frustrated, I assumed that maybe I was just off my game that week. But then it happened that following week. And the week after. And for over nine months, I've discovered that it's an incredible inconvenience to have to rely on someone else (usually my father) for my injections. I started to develop additional anxieties around what's going to happen when someone isn't around to help, like when I move to Maryland next summer and don't know anyone who could help. I've also been irrationally hard on myself about it. I woke up Friday morning determined to do my it myself. I decided not to do it in the morning, when there's a lo...

Look what I found. Neat!

Well this explains the increase in the price of my testosterone cypionate. Fortunately I now have in my possession an approximately 6 month supply, but there really is a shortage. Gender Outlaw has been great about investigating this shortage that’s affecting the United States and Canada. From his most recent post : It looks like we’re at the tail end of this shortage, but with shortages becoming more common the following information may be helpful the next time this happens and you’re caught short… Testosterone Shortage Update: ETAs, Alternatives and Causes >

For almost three years now I’ve been self-injecting. The very first time my hand quivered and I literally couldn’t do it - but every injection since then? No problem. It had become such a menial automaton task that when I switched from bi-weekly injection to every week it wasn’t no thang. But then, something happened. About a month ago. I don’t know what the hell it was, but when I went to self-inject, I just … couldn’t do it. This was a little over a month ago. I remember feeling extremely frustrated and confused over the whole ordeal and eventually cracked and had a friend help me. I figured that this was just a one-time anomalous incident. But no! Ever since, every Thursday, I can’t self-inject. I couldn’t even look until last week. What the hell? Seriously. So this morning I wake up, determined to self-inject. I get the needle ready, cleanse the injection site with an alcohol wipe, go for the plunge and… nothing. Couldn’t do it. I felt closer this time, but still froz...

Uh, something unprecedented and exciting has occurred in the land of my facial hair. I’m not sure when exactly it happened, but it did - last month I had developed what I’d argue passed as fo’ real real facial hair . It got to the point where, as I posted about prior, I could shampoo it, condition it, comb it, and trim it. Life was good. And then Halloween happened - where I had to shave it for my costume. Life was sad. But fun. This is where the unprecedented and exciting took place: After shaving, I looked noticeably different . My baby bare face was actually jarring to me. Now, this is unprecedented and exciting because this is the first time I’ve ever a.) grown facial hair and b.) shaved it and actually looked different because what I shaved was actually noticeable. It’s taken me two days now to adjust to my baby bare faced self and I’m growing it back as.fast.as.I.can. I suspect that I’m going to turn into my dad who went 20+ years without shaving until doing so and horri...

I’m dating someone. Woot! It’s been, oh… approximately 3 years since I’ve done so? Which means this is kinda epic. Or, rather, super epic. Back in the day I had essentially resolved to stop dating for a number of reasons. First, over time intimacy had become a huge dysphoria trigger. It got to the point where I just absolutely couldn’t ignore the disconnect between my mind and body. Without dating I had a series of coping tactics I’d developed throughout my wily adolescence - such as never looking down when I was naked (or in the mirror) and ignoring the existence of my female-bodied areas as much as possible. But when I finally stumbled into the land of intimacy at 17 years of age… even though I didn’t quite know why, I preferred that my partner didn’t touch me. It made me sad. And this preference lasted until my third relationship. When I was touched, I tried to pretend that my body was what my brain map expected - for lack of a better term, male-typical. Alas, that only work...

Had the most difficult time getting my prescription refill (testosterone cypionate) this time around. Generally I just wander in to the pharmacy and request my refill, give them money, take bag of needles and prescription, and head off into the world. But when I attempted to refill this time around ON injection day I was told, “Oh, you’re out of refills. Oh, and your doctor won’t authorize a refill until you make an appointment with her.” Oh, alright. Fair enough. Except that I'm due for a shot - today. And came in today because I couldn't afford it prior, as I was just paid. When I tried to schedule an appointment with her I was told, “You owe us money. It’s in collections. Here’s their number.” What? From when? Where? Whyyyyy is this the first time I’ve heard of it and it’s in collections !? Turns out, even though my doctor’s office had my current address and name - they had never communicated that to billing. So here I was, bumbling along assuming that all of my info i...

Packing to travel has always been easy for me. A few rolled up t-shirts, a pair of pants or two, underroos, socks, deodorant, toothpaste, yada yada… done and done. Small enough to carry-on and off I go, yonder to wherever. But this time, for an academic conference? No horror t-shirts and basketball shorts all mushed up into a backpack. Instead, I actually went out and got a luggage situation and packed it with button ups, ties, slacks, shorts, one t-shirt, and a fo’ real real suit. I followed this guy’s barely audible instructions on Youtube for How to Pack a Suit . And, another difference — for the first time I’m travelling with my vial of Testosterone Cypionate and syringes. I have a little plastic container that Aaron lent me to pack the syringes in. I’ve tried reading around and, apparently, I can bring my syringes and testosterone in carry-on with me? I also asked about it in a local trans-masculine social group on Facebook and received comforting feedback that other guys had tr...

Recently I stumbled across an alternative to testosterone injections - something called a “ Testopel Implant ” which claims to “normalize testosterone levels for 3-6 months per dose”. It is placed under the skin of the hip area and “the pellets will slowly dissolve away as they are delivering the medication over a 3-6 month period.” Does anyone do this instead of injections, or know anything about it positive/negative?

My favorite story in the This American Life: Testosterone podcast (which originally aired in 2002) was Griffin Hansbury’s story about his transition. He’s now a psychotherapist in New York. When asked about what he missed the most, he replied: Maybe the close relationships that I had with women. I still have close relationships with the women that I’ve known since before T, but I don’t make close relationships with new female friends. It’s hard to do. There’s a barrier. So I kinda miss, like, being part of a cool bunch of women. I actually like women better than men. It just so happens that I fit in more as a man, ya know, but I think women are really cool. Um, ya know, sisterhood is powerful and all that stuff. And when asked what the biggest thing he’s gained is: Biggest thing I’ve gained… um, you know, it’s just so great when people call me sir, even after seven years. I don’t always hear it, but it still rings a little bell inside my heart. It’s wonderful and I … it’s som...

Just woke up about 30 minutes ago and decided to make a video of my morning injection. And NOW I’ll make coffee! And give the cats their morning wet food fix, too. Correction, btw! I said 1.6 mL as the amount I inject in the video due to morning brain not working quite right - it’s actually 0.6 mL every 2 weeks.

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...

In the spirit of Transgender Awareness Month, an article about trans dudes - myself included - in IN Magazine by the most goygeous of them all, Princess Kennedy: Princess Kennedy talks "Original Plumbing" with Amos Mac in IN Magazine I invited a good friend of mine, Dexter Thomas -- you might remember Dexter from my last months Zombie tutorial -- to fill me in on what he was going through on this mental and emotional journey. Thomas started taking hormones about two years ago, technically beginning the transition. Standing about 6' tall, blonde and incredibly handsome, I see him out and think "who's the hot new guy?!" With my exceptionally large and male-dominated family, I'm no stranger to the effects of puberty, so it was fascinating to see and hear what he was going through.. Read more > The blonde thing confused me seeing as, ya know, I'm not blonde. Then it dawned on me that when Kennedy and I initially met, I was doing the blonde...

I had a pap smear on October 22nd, which I refer to as a "paptastic appointment of sedative-laden doom". The  first one I had was in January of 2009. I procrastinated the inevitable as long as I could muster, but the worry of not knowing what's up with my innards caught up with me and overrode the aversion. So I cracked, and decided 'fine, I'm uninsured, but I need to get my hormone levels checked and I need a pap smear. So just, go in, do it, and figure out the cost part of it later. My hormone levels are higher than they should be, so my doctor reduced my bi-weekly dose from 0.7 mL to 0.5 mL. Then in pap-ville, my doctor slotted our appointment as her first of the day. Learning from the last time I had this done, she injected me with a massive amount of pregnant lady sedative first thing (I scribbled the name of it down after my appointment, but have no idea where these scribbles are).

I woke up this morning trying hard not to feel anxiety about today's pap smear appointment. The last appointment was "successful" after being heavily sedated. And the two times I had attempted with doctors prior to that were fails. With the first attempt, after just a few minutes the doctor stopped and told me, "You know, we don't have to do this.", and, not anticipating it would be -that- awful, I agreed and we stopped. With the second attempt, I told the doctor about how horrible the first attempt was. She told me that since I'd never had intercourse, paps weren't necessary for me. Whether this was true or not, I liked the answer and rationalized that she was correct and ran with it. For years and years I accepted this logic and had resolved to never get a pap, ever - until I went in to meet my current doctor for the first time . Clearly, she's had a lot of experience with trans men avoiding the necessary health inevitable. Right off the bat...