Decidedly Obscure Human Complaints.

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...

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...

Thinking about spending the next 2 - 3 years diligently saving while living with this sternum fat (disclaimer: not in reference to "breasts" overall, but how I feel about mine) is a really discouraging, daunting thought. Prior to coming out and starting my transition, I didn't anticipate that it would amplify a lot and actually become more difficult in many ways than it had been. Since change and hope have become a reality for me in regards to this part of my being, I've admittedly grown impatient. I waited until I just couldn't take it anymore before I snapped and made an appointment with a therapist for the first time in my life, which instantly led to coming out and starting testosterone. After spending 14 or so years repressing, ignoring, and letting it gnaw up my insides, my mind, my self-esteem... the lid just blew off the steaming kettle. I just want to finally.connect . I'm tired of it. I'm tired of stressing out. I'm tired of being ...

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 was injection day and also the 57th day of my transition. There were a couple of differences this time. First, I didn't feel nervous in the slightest . I was completely alone and completely at ease. This could have been due to the fact that I'm now sick and entirely out of it, but I'll just assume that it's due to my newfound self-injecting confidence. Something else happened during my injection. Once I'd slid the needle all of the way in, I slowly pressed down (which takes some considerable effort due to the thickness of the testosterone). Once I got all of it in, the needle tip detached from the syringe, but remained in my thigh. Surprisingly, this didn't cause me to feel nervous at all, although I was a bit startled. I calmly removed the needle tip from my thigh, then checked to make sure I'd gotten all of that T goop in. I did, except for maybe a drip or two. I need to get another prescription, so I made another appointment with my hormon...

If blogging is out of my element, photo documentation is even further out in the element ball park. What's on an another planet altogether is video documentation. Still, here's the thang. My voice just started cracking a couple of weeks ago and I want to catch it while it's high pitch central and to be able to look back on that change later down the road. Since the thickening of my vocal chords will be very gradual, I'm going to record my voice every so often to document that change. Here goes!

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...