My physical is tomorrow. I suppose most people call it an “annual physical,” but I haven’t had one in a couple of years because it’s been a while since I saw that physician. So it’s more my biennial physical, bordering on every 30 months at that.
For regular checkups regarding my hormone therapy, I drive out to Portland, Oregon, because I haven’t found a doctor in Walla Walla who knows anything about the whole gender transition thang, and this particular doctor sees more than 1,000 trans patients. Plus heck, it’s a pretty enough drive along the Columbia River, and I suppose it keeps my stamina up for long car rides.
But seriously, I need a physician close to home, especially since the little blueberry/dragon/flutternutter will be here soon and I won’t be able to take a day to keep hair on my chest. (Note to young transfolk: once you get chest hair, it pretty much stays there.)
This appointment, tomorrow afternoon, doesn’t mark the first time I’ve met this doctor. I saw him once before, in January. That was the time he told me to lose weight and be sure to follow up for a prostate exam. So okay, maybe I should have come clean with him then. I plan to this next visit. But just to give an overview of what I’d prefer to have happen:
- Please use the medical standards for men’s health for me, not women’s. For example, I have a higher red blood cell count than I used to. So please don’t look alarmed when the labs come back.
- On the other hand, things like my respiration and body temperature are the same. Apparently, I’m still human.
- Please don’t tell me transsexuals are rare. I’ve noticed this little bit of trivia already.
- I don’t need to hear warnings about liver damage. I get my liver checked regularly. And no, I don’t take T orally; I inject.
- Yes, I have been trained in giving myself injections.
- I appreciate that having a sex change is a radical thing to do, but seven years, one surgery, and hundreds of dollars in legal procedures later, I’m sure about my decision. Let’s not discuss it.
- Also, let’s avoid talking about cancer in my unused reproductive system. I already know what few statistics are available, and I get a regular PAP smear.
- Please don’t offer to do a PAP smear. I’ll just see the other doctor in Portland.
I enjoy stopping at Burgerland after my cervix has been scratched, anyway. They’re soothing, those milkshakes.
It’ll be great tomorrow, I just know it.