It really sucked having to stop HRT at the beginning of this month. Unable to get a prescription, and having difficulties importing what I needed to self-medicate, I ended up going off both hormones and blockers for about three weeks. That ended on Thursday when, to my tremendous joy, I saw that a parcel had come in the mail for me and knew immediately what it was: my sweet lovely little blue pills. Praise Iravan! (Iravan being the patron deity of trans people in Hinduism.) I'm now back on spiro and estradiol and everything feels right with the world once more.
And not only is my HRT back on track, so is my progression towards getting a proper prescription. I went to the doctor today for the results of my blood test and everything was in healthy ranges. He's going to refer me to an endocrinologist, he just wants to find one who specifically deals with trans issues. He said he'd look around at who's available and get back to me on Monday.
In other news, yesterday I went out on my first actual proper date as a girl, which was kind of exciting. As it happens, the girl I went out with was kinda like really super awkward. Like, I thought I would be the awkward one when it came to dating but not in this case lol. That's okay though, it was still fun. It feels good to be getting out of the house and meeting someone new, too. I think we'll probably hang out again. :)
Showing posts with label medical stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label medical stuff. Show all posts
Saturday, 26 March 2016
Wednesday, 24 February 2016
At the doctor
Okay, so I went to see a doctor today. On the bright side, it looks like I won't have to be gated by a psychiatrist to get the prescriptions I need. I explained to the doctor that I'd been taking hormones for two and half months and that the change in my mental wellbeing had been both huge and positive. That seemed to convince him that I'm trans for realsies. On the not-so-bright side, because he's concerned about my safety (and/or an asshole), he won't prescribe me either spiro or estradiol until I see an endocrinologist, and he won't refer me to an endo until I get blood work done.
Huh. It's almost like he suspects my long history of ignoring doctors' instructions and generally trying to game medical system. Which makes sense I guess, I did just tell him I'd been taking dangerous prescription drugs without any medical supervision for two and a half months.
(In retrospect I kind of wish I'd argued with him a little on the spiro at least. I mean for goodness' sake, spiro is routinely prescribed for things like male-pattern baldness and acne, it's not like it's a "big deal" the way estradiol is. Maybe if I'd told him I was worried about my hairline??)
In any event, I was able to schedule the blood test for tomorrow; hopefully things continue to move along at a decent pace. I'm pretty optimistic that the waiting list for an endo will be significantly shorter than the waiting list for a psych. (The doctor I originally saw wanted me to pass through the psychiatry gate, which had nearly a year-long wait, which is why I started self-medicating in the first place).
On the one hand, I'm happy that there now seems to be a path ahead which is at least manageable. On the other hand, I've now been out of spiro for over a week and will run out of estradiol next week. So unless the waiting list for the endo is really, really short (and obviously it won't be) I'll probably have to make one last sketchy online drug purchase and just hope it doesn't get stopped by customs again. Sigh. :(
Oh yeah, and incidentally: when I told the doctor I was trans, he asked if I was transitioning to male or to female, which was kind of amusing, and, in a way, encouraging, to me. Sometimes I forget that my assigned gender isn't just obvious all the time.
Huh. It's almost like he suspects my long history of ignoring doctors' instructions and generally trying to game medical system. Which makes sense I guess, I did just tell him I'd been taking dangerous prescription drugs without any medical supervision for two and a half months.
(In retrospect I kind of wish I'd argued with him a little on the spiro at least. I mean for goodness' sake, spiro is routinely prescribed for things like male-pattern baldness and acne, it's not like it's a "big deal" the way estradiol is. Maybe if I'd told him I was worried about my hairline??)
In any event, I was able to schedule the blood test for tomorrow; hopefully things continue to move along at a decent pace. I'm pretty optimistic that the waiting list for an endo will be significantly shorter than the waiting list for a psych. (The doctor I originally saw wanted me to pass through the psychiatry gate, which had nearly a year-long wait, which is why I started self-medicating in the first place).
On the one hand, I'm happy that there now seems to be a path ahead which is at least manageable. On the other hand, I've now been out of spiro for over a week and will run out of estradiol next week. So unless the waiting list for the endo is really, really short (and obviously it won't be) I'll probably have to make one last sketchy online drug purchase and just hope it doesn't get stopped by customs again. Sigh. :(
Oh yeah, and incidentally: when I told the doctor I was trans, he asked if I was transitioning to male or to female, which was kind of amusing, and, in a way, encouraging, to me. Sometimes I forget that my assigned gender isn't just obvious all the time.
Thursday, 4 February 2016
It's back
Welp, guess what's back in my life? Depression yay!!! </sarcasm>
I had a pretty good run there for a few months, but it looks like I'm back to lying in bed fantasizing about killing myself in different ways. That's how I spent Monday evening anyways. Not the healthiest use of one's time, I'm sure.
Then on Tuesday I got hit with kind of a bombshell: the government seized my order of spiro at the border. And yes, I know that's a risk of buying drugs without a prescription, I know those laws exist for a reason, and I know that if I'd been making more of an effort I maybe could have found a trans-friendly doctor by now who'd be willing to prescribe me what I need. But for a known risk it still felt like a punch in the gut. What the hell am I gonna do now? If I halve my dosage I have enough for almost a week. Maybe my best bet is to hit up a walk-in clinic again, that is how I got spiro the first time after all.
Oh yeah, and attached to the official document the government sent me was this paternalistic little epistle warning about all the dangers of buying health products online. Among them was the fact that "buying drugs on the Internet may also pose financial risks. In the some cases, the product ... could be stopped at the border by Canadian authorities." Yeah... thanks I figured that out.
Okay, I wrote the above on Wednesday. Afterwards I took some time to do some catharsis, and I've been feeling a little better since then.
For me the best catharsis comes from listening to that heavy metal music I seems to like so much. I'll start out with some dark, sad songs (like this one), move on to songs about dealing with the shit in your life (like this one), and finally end up at songs that are upbeat, positive and optimistic (like this one). And it really does make a difference. I hope everyone has something in their life that does for them what metal does for me. It's definitely more than just a "favourite genre" to me, it has helped me so much over the years.
After that I had enough motivation to tidy the house a little (it had been a nightmare, now it's slightly less so) and to load the bread machine and set the timer so I'd have bread in the morning. Accomplishing a couple small things helped me feel a little better too.
I'm definitely still in a depressive episode and definitely still running out of spiro, and both of those things suck. But they seem less completely daunting now then they did before. Thank the gods for music.
I had a pretty good run there for a few months, but it looks like I'm back to lying in bed fantasizing about killing myself in different ways. That's how I spent Monday evening anyways. Not the healthiest use of one's time, I'm sure.
Then on Tuesday I got hit with kind of a bombshell: the government seized my order of spiro at the border. And yes, I know that's a risk of buying drugs without a prescription, I know those laws exist for a reason, and I know that if I'd been making more of an effort I maybe could have found a trans-friendly doctor by now who'd be willing to prescribe me what I need. But for a known risk it still felt like a punch in the gut. What the hell am I gonna do now? If I halve my dosage I have enough for almost a week. Maybe my best bet is to hit up a walk-in clinic again, that is how I got spiro the first time after all.
Oh yeah, and attached to the official document the government sent me was this paternalistic little epistle warning about all the dangers of buying health products online. Among them was the fact that "buying drugs on the Internet may also pose financial risks. In the some cases, the product ... could be stopped at the border by Canadian authorities." Yeah... thanks I figured that out.
Okay, I wrote the above on Wednesday. Afterwards I took some time to do some catharsis, and I've been feeling a little better since then.
For me the best catharsis comes from listening to that heavy metal music I seems to like so much. I'll start out with some dark, sad songs (like this one), move on to songs about dealing with the shit in your life (like this one), and finally end up at songs that are upbeat, positive and optimistic (like this one). And it really does make a difference. I hope everyone has something in their life that does for them what metal does for me. It's definitely more than just a "favourite genre" to me, it has helped me so much over the years.
After that I had enough motivation to tidy the house a little (it had been a nightmare, now it's slightly less so) and to load the bread machine and set the timer so I'd have bread in the morning. Accomplishing a couple small things helped me feel a little better too.
I'm definitely still in a depressive episode and definitely still running out of spiro, and both of those things suck. But they seem less completely daunting now then they did before. Thank the gods for music.
Tuesday, 19 January 2016
In which I lose my shit over baby bats
I've now been on hormones for six weeks and I am very happy with how it's going. Before I started I wasn't 100% sure about it (and I think that showed in my previous post a bit), but there is now no doubt in my mind whatsoever that HRT is the right choice for me. It's hard to even say what's different but I just feel... better.
Predictably, the physical changes have been very small so far. Sometimes I see my face in the mirror and think it looks a little rounder, other times I think I'm just imagining it. There definitely has been a bit of breast tissue growth, but it doesn't look like boobs yet— my chest just looks slightly "puffy." My nipples are a little bigger and a lot more sensitive than they used to be. And that's about the extent of it. And yet, even though my overall shape is barely any different than it ever was, somehow it just feel different to be in it. I am much, much more comfortable with my body than I've ever been before.
There have been some mental changes as well, though they're a little harder for me to put my finger on. One thing I've definitely noticed, which I was not expecting at all, is a stronger, more visceral reaction to cuteness. It first happened a couple weeks ago: I was hanging out with some friends and for some reason the topic of conversation turned to bats. I brought up a Youtube video of orphaned flying fox pups being wrapped up in blankets. Watching something like that when I was hormonally male I'd have gone "Awwww cute!" and had a big smile. But this time it was more like "OH MY GOD YOU GUYS I ACTUALLY CANNOT HANDLE HOW FLIPPING CUTE THESE BATS ARE!!!!!!" It caught me completely off guard, but it felt like a good thing. Since then I've found other trans women on the internet describing the same experience, so it's not just me. Perhaps the perception that girls, on average, have a greater appreciation for cuteness than boys do has a basis in biology.
I'm still looking for a doctor, but I am so glad I chose not to wait for the medical system to let me through its gates. I'd still have at least half a year of misery ahead of me if I had. At least another six months until I could feel this good about my body or lose my shit over baby bats.
On another matter altogether, I didn't post anything about the holidays at the time, but I'd like to mention them briefly. It was a pretty unusual Christmas this year, both for myself and for my family. My mom was sick and in the hospital for a few weeks, my brother and sister-in-law were out of town, and there were (and still are) some other ongoing issues in my family that I won't get into in the blog. On top of all that, my parents got rid of their dogs, who were also family to me, around the same time. So it sort of felt like everyone was everywhere.
Anyways, I ended up not having any plans on Christmas Eve. I was getting ready to spend the 24th sitting at home alone and drinking, which was a bit of a bummer, when I got a text from a friend. Remember a couple posts ago I mentioned meeting this girl online with whom I was supposed to have a date or something? Well, we never did go out thanks to one thing or another coming up every time. But she sent me a message wishing me a "Merry Christmas Eve!" We started talking. It turned out she didn't have any plans either— she was intending to sit at home with her cat and drink. Since that was basically what I was going to do, we decided to do it together. I drove over to her apartment and we drank and listened to music, and then she taught me how to use a bong and we got stoned and we watched Mean Girls. Not a typical Christmas Eve for me, but lovely all the same. :) I left her place early Christmas morning (after crashing on her couch, nothing exciting lol) to meet up with my dad, then he and I went to visit mom in the hospital. Not a typical Christmas either, but parts of it were very nice in their own way.
Predictably, the physical changes have been very small so far. Sometimes I see my face in the mirror and think it looks a little rounder, other times I think I'm just imagining it. There definitely has been a bit of breast tissue growth, but it doesn't look like boobs yet— my chest just looks slightly "puffy." My nipples are a little bigger and a lot more sensitive than they used to be. And that's about the extent of it. And yet, even though my overall shape is barely any different than it ever was, somehow it just feel different to be in it. I am much, much more comfortable with my body than I've ever been before.
 |
| The only makeup I'm wearing here is a quick smear of lipstick. The fact that I'm happy with a selfie that didn't involve a ton of face effort is a testament to that increasing comfort. |
There have been some mental changes as well, though they're a little harder for me to put my finger on. One thing I've definitely noticed, which I was not expecting at all, is a stronger, more visceral reaction to cuteness. It first happened a couple weeks ago: I was hanging out with some friends and for some reason the topic of conversation turned to bats. I brought up a Youtube video of orphaned flying fox pups being wrapped up in blankets. Watching something like that when I was hormonally male I'd have gone "Awwww cute!" and had a big smile. But this time it was more like "OH MY GOD YOU GUYS I ACTUALLY CANNOT HANDLE HOW FLIPPING CUTE THESE BATS ARE!!!!!!" It caught me completely off guard, but it felt like a good thing. Since then I've found other trans women on the internet describing the same experience, so it's not just me. Perhaps the perception that girls, on average, have a greater appreciation for cuteness than boys do has a basis in biology.
I'm still looking for a doctor, but I am so glad I chose not to wait for the medical system to let me through its gates. I'd still have at least half a year of misery ahead of me if I had. At least another six months until I could feel this good about my body or lose my shit over baby bats.
On another matter altogether, I didn't post anything about the holidays at the time, but I'd like to mention them briefly. It was a pretty unusual Christmas this year, both for myself and for my family. My mom was sick and in the hospital for a few weeks, my brother and sister-in-law were out of town, and there were (and still are) some other ongoing issues in my family that I won't get into in the blog. On top of all that, my parents got rid of their dogs, who were also family to me, around the same time. So it sort of felt like everyone was everywhere.
Anyways, I ended up not having any plans on Christmas Eve. I was getting ready to spend the 24th sitting at home alone and drinking, which was a bit of a bummer, when I got a text from a friend. Remember a couple posts ago I mentioned meeting this girl online with whom I was supposed to have a date or something? Well, we never did go out thanks to one thing or another coming up every time. But she sent me a message wishing me a "Merry Christmas Eve!" We started talking. It turned out she didn't have any plans either— she was intending to sit at home with her cat and drink. Since that was basically what I was going to do, we decided to do it together. I drove over to her apartment and we drank and listened to music, and then she taught me how to use a bong and we got stoned and we watched Mean Girls. Not a typical Christmas Eve for me, but lovely all the same. :) I left her place early Christmas morning (after crashing on her couch, nothing exciting lol) to meet up with my dad, then he and I went to visit mom in the hospital. Not a typical Christmas either, but parts of it were very nice in their own way.
Thursday, 10 December 2015
Starting HRT
On Monday, for the first time, I placed a tablet containing 2 mg of estradiol hemihydrate under my tongue and let it dissolve. I found myself thinking: Huh, I guess I'll probably be doing this every day for most of the rest of my life.
The pills taste slightly sweet.
Honestly it doesn't seem like nearly as big a deal to me as I once would have expected it to. I'm certainly very happy about it, but it's less of a giddy excitement and more just a calm, contented sense of peace. (Though, perhaps not unusually for a girl at the beginning of puberty, I do occasionally find myself wondering how long until I have boobs, lol).
I'm DIY-ing things for now. I saw a doctor at a walk-in clinic in August: he put me on spiro but wouldn't give me a prescription for hormones until I saw a psychiatrist. And the psych's waiting list was nearly a year long. So I faced a choice: start HRT without medical supervision, putting myself at risk of liver damage and thrombosis; or wait a year, putting myself at risk of self-harm, substance abuse, and suicide. Those are two very different types of risk but it seemed like the odds of me coming to serious harm in either case were roughly equal. Given that, I of course chose that the option that involved not being completely miserable.
And before you start worrying about me, let me assure you that I'm being very careful here. I made sure to get a blood test done before taking the first pill so that any future doctor I see will have access to what my natural hormonal levels were. I intend to get another blood test after one month— (I haven't quite figured out how to get the referral for that yet, though I imagine that simply going to a walk-in and explaining my situation to a doctor is worth a try). I'm not taking a high dose, 2 mg/day is on the lower part of the recommended range for someone like me. And of course, I will try to get proper medical supervision as soon as possible. I just think it will be easier start HRT first and then find a doctor I can work with, rather than having to convince a doctor to let me get the treatment I need.
I've heard several trans women say that they didn't know for sure that HRT was right for them until after they were already on it. I'm only on day four so perhaps it's no surprise that I haven't had any such magical moment of clarity just yet. At this point what convinces me that I'm doing the right thing is how horrified I am by the thought of stopping— I don't even think I could. But now that I think about it, that's how it's always been for me. When I started presenting in a more feminine way I had doubts whether that was right for me until I considered going back to my old presentation and I realized I wouldn't even be able to. Likewise my horror at the thought of asking people to call me by my old name again is, more than anything else, what convinces me that I need to go by Ashley. And the thought of going back to a male hormonal mix makes me feel the same way.
Huh. Maybe that is my "magical moment of clarity." And it happened just now writing this. I guess that's why I'm a blogger. :)
Well anyways, time to start thinking about the next step: banking my sperm before they all shrivel up and die. I'm not 100% certain I'll want biological kids some day, but I am 100% certain I'll at least want the option. Better get on that posthaste!
The pills taste slightly sweet.
Honestly it doesn't seem like nearly as big a deal to me as I once would have expected it to. I'm certainly very happy about it, but it's less of a giddy excitement and more just a calm, contented sense of peace. (Though, perhaps not unusually for a girl at the beginning of puberty, I do occasionally find myself wondering how long until I have boobs, lol).
I'm DIY-ing things for now. I saw a doctor at a walk-in clinic in August: he put me on spiro but wouldn't give me a prescription for hormones until I saw a psychiatrist. And the psych's waiting list was nearly a year long. So I faced a choice: start HRT without medical supervision, putting myself at risk of liver damage and thrombosis; or wait a year, putting myself at risk of self-harm, substance abuse, and suicide. Those are two very different types of risk but it seemed like the odds of me coming to serious harm in either case were roughly equal. Given that, I of course chose that the option that involved not being completely miserable.
And before you start worrying about me, let me assure you that I'm being very careful here. I made sure to get a blood test done before taking the first pill so that any future doctor I see will have access to what my natural hormonal levels were. I intend to get another blood test after one month— (I haven't quite figured out how to get the referral for that yet, though I imagine that simply going to a walk-in and explaining my situation to a doctor is worth a try). I'm not taking a high dose, 2 mg/day is on the lower part of the recommended range for someone like me. And of course, I will try to get proper medical supervision as soon as possible. I just think it will be easier start HRT first and then find a doctor I can work with, rather than having to convince a doctor to let me get the treatment I need.
I've heard several trans women say that they didn't know for sure that HRT was right for them until after they were already on it. I'm only on day four so perhaps it's no surprise that I haven't had any such magical moment of clarity just yet. At this point what convinces me that I'm doing the right thing is how horrified I am by the thought of stopping— I don't even think I could. But now that I think about it, that's how it's always been for me. When I started presenting in a more feminine way I had doubts whether that was right for me until I considered going back to my old presentation and I realized I wouldn't even be able to. Likewise my horror at the thought of asking people to call me by my old name again is, more than anything else, what convinces me that I need to go by Ashley. And the thought of going back to a male hormonal mix makes me feel the same way.
Huh. Maybe that is my "magical moment of clarity." And it happened just now writing this. I guess that's why I'm a blogger. :)
Well anyways, time to start thinking about the next step: banking my sperm before they all shrivel up and die. I'm not 100% certain I'll want biological kids some day, but I am 100% certain I'll at least want the option. Better get on that posthaste!
Tuesday, 13 October 2015
I'm still here (and I'm on spiro now!)
It's been a while since I updated this blog, but I'm still here and not dead. And also I'm taking androgen-blockers.
In the last week of August I finally got around to seeing a doctor about the fact that I'm trans. Ironically what actually compelled me to go to the clinic was a bad skin rash, but I figured since I'd be there anyways I should bring up my trans-ness. (This is in keeping with my uncanny ability to put off doing important things, like seeing a doctor, until I absolutely have to do them).
I went to a walk-in clinic because I don't have a regular practitioner. After checking my ID and healthcare card, the receptionist asked what the issue is.
"Uh, well, actually it's two things," I said. "The first is a skin rash..."
She made a note of that.
"And the second is that, uh, I'm transsexual and—"
She stopped me right there. "I'll just put down 'personal' for that, okay?"
"Uh... okay."
Wow lady, way to make me feel weird.
Thankfully the doctor himself was a lot more professional about it. He asked me a few questions, but they were all ones that made sense— how long have you felt this way? have you been experiencing depression?— that sort of thing. He gave me a prescription for the androgen-blocker spironolactone, which I've been on since then, and a referral to a psychiatrist I'm supposed to see before I start HRT.
He said the waiting list for the psych would likely be close to year (ugh) and that the current psychiatrist was retiring soon and someone else would be taking over his work, so I should be proactive about contacting their office. I figured I'd probably call them in the next couple of days.
And then the depression hit. Apparently one of the side-effects of spiro is that it can exacerbate depressive symptoms. Beginning a couple days after I took the first pill and lasting for a couple weeks I had possibly the worst depression I've ever experienced. Needless to say I did not call the psych's office during that time. That's also largely why I stopped blogging.
But I guess after a couple weeks my body just got used to the drug or something, because I gradually returned to my normal baseline emotional state, which is a much more mild and intermittent sort of depression that I can usually manage.
Now I just need to phone the psych's office and see if I can still get put on the waiting list even though my referral is for a guy who doesn't work there anymore. I'm not really sure how all that works.
Other than that there hasn't been much noteworthy stuff in my life in the last couple months, but things are, for the most part, going well. I got moved to the afternoon shift at work, and while it sucks not having my evenings free I've found I enjoy the actual work a lot more: the shop's almost empty so I don't have a bunch of bosses looking over my shoulder telling me what to do, I mostly get to just do my own thing. Last Sunday I had a really nice Thanksgiving dinner with my parents and brother and sister-in-law: my contribution was the apple pie, which actually turned out quite well (and only my second time making a pie from scratch too). Today I cleaned and tidied my house and bought some cut flowers for the vase on the table and now it feels all nice and homey for a change. And at some point in the near future I probably have a date with this girl I met online (we said we'd go out for coffee or something, but haven't set a place or time yet) so that's kind of exciting.
Altogether I feel like I kind of have a handle on this whole "life" thing. I suppose I should enjoy that while it lasts. :)
In the last week of August I finally got around to seeing a doctor about the fact that I'm trans. Ironically what actually compelled me to go to the clinic was a bad skin rash, but I figured since I'd be there anyways I should bring up my trans-ness. (This is in keeping with my uncanny ability to put off doing important things, like seeing a doctor, until I absolutely have to do them).
I went to a walk-in clinic because I don't have a regular practitioner. After checking my ID and healthcare card, the receptionist asked what the issue is.
"Uh, well, actually it's two things," I said. "The first is a skin rash..."
She made a note of that.
"And the second is that, uh, I'm transsexual and—"
She stopped me right there. "I'll just put down 'personal' for that, okay?"
"Uh... okay."
Wow lady, way to make me feel weird.
Thankfully the doctor himself was a lot more professional about it. He asked me a few questions, but they were all ones that made sense— how long have you felt this way? have you been experiencing depression?— that sort of thing. He gave me a prescription for the androgen-blocker spironolactone, which I've been on since then, and a referral to a psychiatrist I'm supposed to see before I start HRT.
 |
| Spironolactone |
And then the depression hit. Apparently one of the side-effects of spiro is that it can exacerbate depressive symptoms. Beginning a couple days after I took the first pill and lasting for a couple weeks I had possibly the worst depression I've ever experienced. Needless to say I did not call the psych's office during that time. That's also largely why I stopped blogging.
But I guess after a couple weeks my body just got used to the drug or something, because I gradually returned to my normal baseline emotional state, which is a much more mild and intermittent sort of depression that I can usually manage.
Now I just need to phone the psych's office and see if I can still get put on the waiting list even though my referral is for a guy who doesn't work there anymore. I'm not really sure how all that works.
Other than that there hasn't been much noteworthy stuff in my life in the last couple months, but things are, for the most part, going well. I got moved to the afternoon shift at work, and while it sucks not having my evenings free I've found I enjoy the actual work a lot more: the shop's almost empty so I don't have a bunch of bosses looking over my shoulder telling me what to do, I mostly get to just do my own thing. Last Sunday I had a really nice Thanksgiving dinner with my parents and brother and sister-in-law: my contribution was the apple pie, which actually turned out quite well (and only my second time making a pie from scratch too). Today I cleaned and tidied my house and bought some cut flowers for the vase on the table and now it feels all nice and homey for a change. And at some point in the near future I probably have a date with this girl I met online (we said we'd go out for coffee or something, but haven't set a place or time yet) so that's kind of exciting.
Altogether I feel like I kind of have a handle on this whole "life" thing. I suppose I should enjoy that while it lasts. :)
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