Being Out as a T-Girl in the Vanilla Medical World, Part 1

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I recall how, before I came out as a t-girl, my health was declining so rapidly that I was probably going to be dead in a few years, and yet the prospect nevertheless failed to inspire any correctly action. How miserably frustrating that must have been for those who loved me and saw my decline, and were wishing I’d DO something. I’m sorry for my own sake that I have neglected my health, but I’m sorry for them too… not that the neglect of my health is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, but it’s certainly in the top 20.

The thing is, I was so sick of living without basic integrity (i.e., living openly as the girl I am, brain-wise) that life just wasn’t worth it to me, emotionally. I wasn’t planning to go out in a blaze of glory, but I was just slowly falling apart. One day I’d have a heart attack and that’d be that.

Now that I live as the girl that I am, I’m radiantly happy, and if I live for a long time, that suits me just fine. My risk of heart attack is by now delightfully low, due to good blood chemistry (cholesterol, etc.), good blood pressure and low stress.

Next, I’m focusing my not-so-impressive income on making sure nothing else is likely to kill me off any time soon. I have had skin cancer so I go for more-regular check-ups as such, and some other things could benefit from a check-up too. So, I went to my doctor’s office for that.

The visit to the doctors’ office went perfectly, and the receptionist lady was so nice to me that I later brought her a pot of yellow flowers to say “thank you.”  The medical billing lady in the front office was a lot less friendly but I didn’t take it personally. That line of work probably makes for a not-so-happy person.

Whenever someone talks about me in the third person, and I’m present, then I wince when they use male pronouns. I might have facial bones like Rambo, but I’m a girl, dammit. And a visit to a doctor’s office typically involves much talking to each other about me as part of the work, e.g., “she doesn’t have insurance” or “she needs an appointment.”

At the doctor’s office, they understood who and what I am. “She” was the pronoun used. Good!

The next visit was to the admitting office of my chosen hospital. Same situation. “She” this, “she” that. Good!

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