FTM

My energy seems to be fluctuating alot today. When I run out, it is like running out of gas. I just can...not...go...on. I have noticed that I am sleeping MUCH better. Now, I just wake up for my 4am call of nature and then it is right back to sleep. This is a DRAMATIC improvement over my chronic insomnia.

My second injection was today. I took the plunge, so to speak, and self-injected. My doctor's medical assistant walked me through everything. I had a hard time getting the plastic cover off of one of the needles and accidently poked myself. No biggie since it was my own blood and there was no medicine in the syringe. The MA then gave me a good tip about removing the cover safely. So here are the steps I take in order to self-inject:

1. Unwrap the syringe and place it to the side
2. Unwrap my needle that I use to draw with. I use two needles so that the needle that I inject with will stay sharp, making it easier to pass through the skin with little to no pain
3. Unscrew the needle from the syringe and set it aside (plastic cap should still be in place)
4. Take the drawing needle and screw it onto the syringe
5. Take an alcohol wipe and thoroughly clean the top of the vial
6. Take the syringe and draw about 1cc of air
7. Plunge syringe into center of vial and inject air into the existing air pocket. This creates positive pressure which helps the testosterone drip into the syringe
8. Pull back on the plunger to the correct dose
9. Flip vial upside down and watch that magic elixir fill the syringe
10. Pull out of vial once the syringe is filled with the correct amount
11. Slowly push the plunger until a tiny drop comes out of the needle. This makes sure you have no air in the dose
12. Clean the injection site with an alcohol wipe
13. Grab quad muscle HARD. This lessens the chance of that pain often associated with injections. This WORKS
14. Slide needle in at least 1"
15. It was suggested that I slightly draw back on the plunger to make sure I didn't hit a vein. No blood means I am good to go
16. Push that plunger in and feel the rush of another dose of testosterone!

Injecting myself had an almost zen-like quality to it. The message I am receiving is that I am in charge of my own body. It says that I am truly committed to the pasth I have chosen. I am surprised I did not feel more trepidation about it. I used to be the kid that would wait and have to be held down when it was time for a booster. But this time? It felt so natural. Of course, my motivation is much higher than it was as a child.

Oddly enough, my biggest concern wasn't about "sticking myself in the leg." It was making sure that I had the preparation down.

My dose is still 100mg/ml every 14 days

For the first time since my endo ablation, I was spotting. Normally, this would be no big deal but I am talking close to 4 years with absolutely nothing even resembling such an occurrence. I was also a bit crampy. I'm attributing this to the war being raised between the estrogen and testosterone. Since I know what the outcome is going to be, I'm not too concerned.

It should be noted that I am under active care with a physcian and I told her about these new symptoms. Because I have direct family history with ovarian cancer (my mom had it but survived), my doc has a very low threshold for anything like this that is going on. Because I have lived under constant fear of getting cancer since my mom was diagnosed, I happily agreed to an ultrasound to make sure everything is in proper working order.

My doctor is so concerned about the mental health of her FTM patients and it is kind of cute. As I mentioned earlier, she and her staff are fantastic as far as respect and knowledge goes. But it was almost like she regretted me having to go through a pap smear during my physical. And she kept re-assuring me that I would be in control of the ultrasound because she only likes to refer patients to healthcare providers who are also respectful of trans health needs.

Now, I'd like to be rid of my female parts and that will happen in due time. For now, though, I consider it vitally important to take care of all aspects of my health so I am pretty matter of fact about such medical issues. This female genitalia is still a part of my body and I cannot afford to simply ignore it.

To say that I was excited would have been an understatement. Breanna says that I was grinning from ear to ear. My physical transition begins NOW. I recently found a good doctor thanks to my friend who highly recommended her. I loved my old doc but she had to retire after some health issues of her own. My new doc (hey there Dr. Gromko!) has many trans clients and is extremely knowledgeable about the health issues of trans patients. She and her staff are incredibly respectful and know how to put us at ease in what is often an anxiety-laden environment.

Now, in most cases, care providers tend to follow what is called the Harry Benjamin Standards of Care (SoC). These SoC help care providers discern how to provide optimal treatment for clients with GID. Usually, the process can take over a year to be able to start physical transition. A letter from a qualified gender specialist is required by many doctors before they will prescribe hormone replacements because many of the changes associated with hormone therapy are permanent. For instance, I could lose my hair and stopping T won't make it grow back (please gods, no hair loss *sniff*). My voice will stay in a lower register because T will thicken my vocal cords. There are other changes I will not go into here but recommend Hudson's FTMGuide for more information. I had received my letter from my therapist several weeks earlier and was just awaiting my doctor's appointment to get started.

That morning, I felt like a kid at Christmas staring at all the presents under the tree and knowing it was too early to wake the parents. downtown Seattle until it was time to pick up Breanna and head to the doctor (Breanna wanted to be there since this is a life-changing event). The medical assistant came in and did all the medical assistant stuff and then we awaited the doctor. She came in and asked me what I thought the testosterone would do for me and I told her it would help masculinize my body. She then listed the changes and had me sign a consent form stating that I realized and accepted that some of the changes caused by hormone therapy are permanent. Then, she had her medical assistant call the prescription in to the pharmacy and said that he would give me my first injection once I go to pick it up. YAY! It is HAPPENING! OMG!

Luckily, the pharmacy is just a few blocks away so off we headed. We got to the counter and explained that my doctor's office just called in a prescription for me. Since only minutes had passed, it took them awhile to find it. Not only that, but, as usual, it was extremely busy so I was afraid I had another 30 minutes' wait in front of me and Breanna's time for this was coming to an end (she took time off from work to be with me). The gal at the counter asked for my insurance card and as I was getting it out of my billfold, I heard a familiar voice say that insurance probably won't cover it but she'll check anyway. Standing in front of me was none other than the best friend of one of the guys in my support group! What a treat to see a friendly face as I start a whole new chapter in my transition. She then took the card and prescription from the first gal and went off the do her pharmacy tech magic. No more than 10 minutes later, back she comes with my magic vial and the pharmacist to go over the details. She also informed me that my insurance was VERY good and I only had to pay $17 for the testosterone and syringes, which, at my current dose, will see me through several months.

Off we go BACK to the doctor's office. We waited a few minutes for them to clear a room. I had a few butterflies thinking WOW! This is showing some serious commitment to the path I am on. Then the butterflies dispersed and I was ready. The medical assistant went thru all the steps of correctly filling the syringe with my dose and then called "the expert" in because he needed to learn how to teach people to shoot up in the thigh as well. In walks the woman who is an utter master with the needle who gives me more tips for a successful injection (squeeze quad hard, then fast in and fast out!). She asked if I was ready and as soon as I said yes, she was in and out in a flash. WOW! My first shot of T was now coursing thru my system.

My dose is 100mg/ml every 2 weeks. This will probably change over time but it is a good starting point.

Allow me to introduce myself. I am known on the internets as thehawke. I'm known around these here parts as Ryan Blackhawke. You can call me Ryan. Or Hawke. Whichever you prefer. I am 44 years old and in a relationship for the past 13 years with the most fantastic woman on the face of the planet. Most people know her as Breanna. She is the Director of Economic Programs here at Ingersoll. We have 3 kids (hers from a previous marriage) that are all growed up and out on their own. We also have 2 monster dogs and 2 cats. We live in the suburbs of Seattle. Seems like a pretty mundane life, to the uninitiated.

But I'm finding out that life can throw some pretty interesting curves our way. Our job is to catch as many of them as we can and just go along for the ride (how's THAT for mixing metaphores?). It was during Gender Odyssey 2007 that the biggest curve of my life came upon me. Gender Odyssey is a yearly conference for the trans community. The focus used to be on the FTM side of the spectrum but it has changed to be more inclusive of all gender variants. I cannot WAIT for the conference this year! But that was not always the case.

You see, last year, Breanna was heavily involved in the conference. She has long been a leader in the LGBT community and so she goes to stuff like this all the time. Me, I preferred to stay on the periphery, though I was sitting on the leadership committee of Ingersoll. So on that fateful Sunday night, Breanna says, "let's go to this panel." I put my foot down and said NO! We are NOT going! We can't afford it! We shouldn't go... basically I tried every excuse in the book to avoid going. I think she caught on to my reluctance and confronted me with the question I had been wrestling with for quite some time. "Ryan," she said, "is there something you need to tell me? Are you FTM?" Then, just like in the John Mellencamp song, the walls came tumblin' down. All the pieces that had floated around suddenly fell into place and I had to admit that yes, I am deeply questioning my gender.

It seems funny that it took so long to come to the conclusion that I am not a woman, yet am residing in a woman's body. I tried to play the role assigned to me by our society but it never seemed like a good fit. I felt like an imposter much of the time. But I played along not realizing that it could be any different for me. But now here it was and I had to make a choice. Do I continue to feel like an imposter or do I come out for all the world to see? Obviously, I chose the latter. Otherwise, why write a blog about my experiences? We spent the next two weeks in deep conversation, trying to figure out what this meant for the two of us. Needless to say, someone coming out as genderqueer can put a kink in the strongest of relationships. After that, I think we each quietly retreated to our own little worlds and put my revelation on the back burner.

But it could only stay simmering on that burner for so long before the pot started to boil over. In January of this year, the subject of me being a male came up over dinner in Port Townsend. I quipped over dinner something about binding. Breanna asked if it was something I had been thinking about doing and I admitted that I was. (For those of you who do not know what binding is, there are various products out there to help FTMs have a more masculine chest prior to surgery. These items were originally created for men with gynecomastia and we have found that they work perfectly for us as well). We then made small talk and finished our dinner. But as we were waiting for the ferry, Breanna brought up what we had discussed back in August. She asked if I had given any more thought to it and I said oh yes. Constantly. Now, what she said next is what she had said a thousand times before but this time I actually *heard* her. She said that I cannot place the fear of losing our relationship above my own health and well-being. Our relationship will change but she never said our relationship would end. That is just what I interpreted no thanks to rather annoying issues with abandonment. One must be true to him/herself in order to be able to be present in any relationship. If I am trying to hide for the sake of this relationship, then I will be miserable and no good to myself or my partner. Breanna told me that she would much rather see me do what I need to do for myself because my happiness is most important to her and she knows I haven't been happy in a long time.

She gave me the freedom to accept myself as a male. To start this journey with lack of fear and see where it will take me. For about a week after that, I was pretty euphoric. I allowed myself to feel my masculinity unleashed. Everything seemed so much clearer than ever before. I began to feel comfortable in my own skin for the first time in my life. I was coming home.

The next steps were coming out to my family. We gathered all the kids together and I told them that I had decided to transition to male. Our middle child laughingly said "this family is sooo queer" (they were raised in 2 lesbian households). Then they asked which pronouns I preferred and that was pretty much that. It went how I thought it would. No big surprises there. Next was my side of the family. I pretty much knew what the outcome was going to be here too but that doesn't necessarily make it any easier to take this huge step. My mom's and sister's biggest concern was whether or not Breanna and I were going to stay together. When we assured them that we had no plans to break up, they were mollified and gave me their full support.

As the weeks went by, the need to be able to pass as a male grew. The use of female pronouns when referring to me was becoming more and more unbearable with each passing day. I also wanted to be able to bind while on the job. I would be binding when we'd go in to grab some coffee on my off days but so far, no one had a clue (or so I thought). One weekend, I think it was in February, I asked my boss if he had a few minutes to talk or if I should just come in a little early the following monday. Weekends can be hell so he said Monday. So I gathered up all my courage and took the first step that I considered risky (though I knew my company had a very progressive policy in place regarding transsexuals). I went in and said remember when I asked if we could talk for a few minutes? He said, "uh huh" with a pensive voice. I said, "well, here is what is going on with me. This has been kicking around since last August and I have decided that I need to transition from female to male." He let out a sigh of relief and said, "I thought you were going to tell me you quit." We then proceeded to find the policies and procedures for transitioning on the job and I started to tell my co-workers that I am FTM and that I would appreciate it if they would use male pronouns when referring to me. I felt that it was important to do this face to face with each co-worker so that I could answer any questions and because I owed them that much, after over 6 months of working together (we are a really tight-knit crew). Everyone was totally accepting and went about getting used to calling me "he". Oh, they do slip up from time to time but as I told one co-worker, I am not looking for perfection. I realize that it is hard to stop on a dime and refer to someone as something different after knowing them for so long. What I am looking for is progress and I am seeing it. Everyone at my job has been extremely supportive and respectful. I told our district manager that my coming out has been pretty much a non-event, which is actually quite nice. We all still work together as a tight-knit team and that isn't about to change.

I know that most coming-out stories don't have such happy endings. Far too many of us lose our families, friends, livelihoods. Some of us even lose our lives. I see people come to our support group every week just doing everything they can to get by as they go about the business of piecing their lives back together. Me? I know I've had it easy. I still have my family and my friends. My relationship is stronger than it has ever been. I think this has to do with our commitment to real communication and because I am living a truly honest life now. Work is still work. But I feel very fortunate to be in the situation I am now with co-workers who have become friends and a boss who is incredibly supportive (and funny as hell). I do not take the relative ease of my coming-out for granted. I am grateful every day that the only thing I need to concentrate on in this process is how I can build a better life for myself and my partner in love and in life. If only this could be the case for us all.