The lengthy and most tragic account of my first foray into testosterone is written elsewhere. This time? It's working. Oh, it's working. *ghoulish laugh*
*sings* "Half a pound of Androgel, half a pound of treacle, that's the way the story goes, out comes the evil..."
Yesterday I went to a clinic up in Cleveland, one with a focus on LGBT health, to see Dr. Ng for a hormone prescription. I was unbelievably nervous. The location of the clinic didn't help matters, in one of the scuzzier parts of the city with a security guard at the front door--not exactly a relaxing atmosphere for a jittery middle-class suburb-dweller such as myself--but the staff who I talked to were amazing. They were friendly, non-judgmental, thorough with questions, actually seemed to care, in contrast to many other places I've gone. Surprise of surprises, I could tell I was a person, not a number. Dr. Ng and an associate/student of his (dunno if apprentice or trainee is the word used in the medical field) talked stuff over with me, got info, discussed plans and options--Ng was both knowledgeable and understanding. So we agreed on starting my dosage at a low level of Androgel, seeing if it went okay, and addressing any problems if they happened.
I got the packets yesterday, applied one--I didn't expect gel to be runny, but then I had some bizarre picture in my head of a toothpaste-like substance--and got my typical insomniac night of non-sleep. Today I woke up and applied another. So far two doses, two days. Already I think I'm noticing...changes.
Thing one, I'm grouchy I guess. Kind of. Not exactly. It's a grouchy surly mood that feels pleasant. Thing two, I'm lapsing into mean, mischievous humor. Watching comedy videos on youtube of mean jokes, nasty ribald comedy. The sense of humor I remember having in spades, a twisted perverse impish kind, is returning. Things three to eleventy, my chest hair is thickening again. That might be why I was itching in strange places all morning, because hair is growing back. And I'm not even hungry right now!
