Well, that's it. I'm done.
And by that I mean no more anxiety. No more doubt about my presentation. No more fear of being clocked. No more worries.
Quote from: Steph2.0 on February 19, 2018, 11:52:47 AMBut I am feeling confident today, which is good because I'm coming out to my primary care doctor's entire clinic in an hour and a half.
The appointment was for a physical exam in preparation for my consultation with Dr. Ting's GCS team at Mount Sinai in New York. My doctor knew about the reason, and I'd told him I was full time and had changed my name, and asked him to help smooth the way with the clinic to help change my records when I showed up for my appointment.
I was dressed casual, with a fitted button down short sleeve blouse, cuffed jeans, and some cute flats. I checked in at the front desk, thinking I was going to have to change my records. I gave my last name, and she pulled out a sheet of paper that already had "Stephanie Bensinger (Steve) on it. There was nothing to change, and she took my credit card (with the proper name of course) for the copay, and I sat down to wait and see who they would call when my turn came. And my favorite nurse called for Stephanie. Mini-squeee.
"Come with me, my dear. This says you want to be called "Steve"." I, believing she knew the whole story by now, told her no, that was old information. She promised to change it right away.
Weight... blood pressure... oxygen levels... etc. etc.
While she was working through that another nurse poked her head in. She said, "Oh! I wanted to talk to you about something, but you're with a patient." She started to leave, then turned back and I smiled at her. She apparently decided it was safe to talk in front of the nice lady, came into the room and whispered to my nurse. Their conversation got louder until I heard that apparently one of the male nurses had sort of hit on our visitor. They chatted away about it until the other nurse left, and mine looked at me, rolled her eyes, and said, "The things we put up with as women!" What could I say? I agreed.
She then sat down to go through the computer.
Now I figured the records must be completely updated and everyone would know what's going on at this point, so I had no problem handing over my list of meds that includes Spironolactone, Estradiol, and Finasteride. She dutifully typed them in, then went on to the questions and answers that we're all used to:
"Any chronic pain?"
"Any shortness of breath?"
"etc.?"
"etc.?"
"etc.?"
"When was your last menstrual cycle?"
My answer, ".......................................!!!!!"
It was hard to answer with my jaw on the ground, but I finally got out something like, "Uh, It's not in my records?"
"What do you mean, my dear?"
".......!"
"I'm... transgender."
"Oh... Congratulations!!!"
"So I guess that doesn't apply."
"No, I guess not!"
At this point we're grinning at each other like a couple of fools. She moved on through the rest of the questions. Somewhere along the way she was mumbling to herself as she went through the records, looked up and said, "Fifty nine? You don't look old enough to be fifty nine!" Well, thanks. We shared that there were mornings when we felt 70.
Later I shook my head and said something like, "I still don't believe it!" She started to apologize, and I stopped her. "No no, you just made my entire day!"
At one point I asked her how I was listed in my records - male or female - because I was going to need specialized care going forward, and she couldn't find the marker. So she had been going strictly on my presentation for how she was treating me.
She finally turned me over to the doctor, who's known my story for about 6 months now. We had a good conversation about how things were going and my plans. He asked a lot of good questions, and I checked again for the gender marker in my records. It was female, but they actually have another marker for transgender, specifically so any specialized care is taken into account. He said after I had the GCS, they would remove the transgender marker. We talked about the need going forward for both prostate checks and mammograms. I educated him about GCS methods and providers, we made arrangements for a few more lab tests and an EKG, he did a general physical exam, and sent me to my favorite front desk person - the one who used to banter with me and always called me Mister Steve. There was none of that today, and I even wonder if she knew who she was talking to. She arranged for the EKG right then, and shouted out to someone in the back, "send her to room 10?" In room 10, my friend the nurse rolled in the machine that goes, "BING!" and told me to take off my shirt. First time in front of a stranger in just my bra. It's a good thing I shaved! No issues other than her cold hands! The machine went "BING!" we got the slip of paper, and I was on my way.
I'd come out to my doctor on August 28th, 2017, still in guy mode. My original scared-to-death posts about it are here:
https://www.susans.org/forums/index.php?topic=226256.msg2017442#msg2017442 and
https://www.susans.org/forums/index.php/topic,226256.msg2018312.html#msg2018312 The followup post about how it all actually went is here:
https://www.susans.org/forums/index.php/topic,226256.msg2019790.html#msg2019790 Subsequent visits had been in what was at best androgynous mode, with increasing dysphoria each time they used that old name. How things have changed since then.
Coming out to the entire clinic was what I'd considered to be the last big wall to scale, and the experience may have been the best, most validating, most affirming day I've had since I started this long strange trip. The fact that a medical professional, who had all of my records in front of her to show my story in black and white, still read me as female and treated me that way even after I clued her in, made me question why I have any lingering doubts about my presentation. Despite my posts telling how my confidence has been out of sight lately, there was still that little tingle in my brain, telling me that maybe people were just being nice, and I was being clocked anyway.
But I'm done. Time to redirect the energy that had been going to stoke the fear to something more useful, and just live.
Stephanie
