I'm due for a testosterone shot today, but I won't be having one because my latest doctor apparently cares more about covering his ass than he does about his patients' well-being. I thought we got along well at my first visit several months ago; he admitted he didn't know much about trans health care, but seemed willing to learn. He also sent me for some pricey blood work, but when you see a new doctor, that's to be expected. I got the blood work, got my T prescription, and was fine until it ran out last month, at which point I called his office to see if I needed to come in or could just get a refill. Here is my best attempt at paraphrasing his return call.
DR: Is this Ms. Brite?
ME: Uh, this is MISTER Brite.
DR: Yes, well, I got the results of your blood work here and ... I don't know how to read it. You've seen those commercials about the dangers of testosterone? I mean,
if you were a man, these results would be normal, but ... I just don't know about this stuff. I need you to have your previous doctor send me your blood levels.
Those italics are mine, and yes, he really said "if you were a man." At our visit, I was very clear about my gender identity. I realize that many doctors are biological essentialists, but in my opinion, that doesn't exempt them from acting like decent human beings. I'm not even going to get into his apparent inability to educate himself, or to maybe, you know, fucking ADMIT TO ME THAT HE WASN'T GOING TO before having me spend $250 on useless lab work.
I have an appointment with a new doctor, a GP who is reportedly educated on and sympathetic to trans issues, but not until next week. In the meantime, I have Internet-ordered testosterone that cost twice as much as my regular prescription coming from Slovakia, but it's not here yet.
A few months ago, I made
this shadowbox titled "It Costs $10,000 To Be A Man." I was thinking of surgery, but by the time I die, I wouldn't be surprised if I've spent that much just on doctor appointments.
