#TBT: Thursday Rewind: "Mercy and Medicine"

While standing in line at CVS waiting to find out the status of one or more prescriptions, I feel at one with everyone: the vacant young woman behind the counter who can barely muster the resolve to ask for my birth date one more time; the pharmacist stationed behind her, filling bottles and stapling prescription instructions to bags while talking into the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder; the folks patiently waiting for their Covid shots; the older man who’s just been informed his insurance won’t cover his $500 medication. You’ve been in that line, too, I’ll bet. Health care in the United States seems designed not only to test our patience, but the very health we’re trying to protect!

About a year ago I went to hell and back trying to get a series of vicious migraines I’d been experiencing diagnosed, so I might be prescribed the right medications. During this time, it became obvious that being sick is a full-time job in this country. I’ve known from the start that these migraines are triggered by menopause and have been anxious to start estrogen treatment. But both my gynecologist and neurologist are hesitant to prescribe this because research indicates AFAB (assigned female at birth) persons who have migraine with aura are at risk for stroke when taking estrogen. It is interesting that these doctors want so very much to protect me. They are concerned I might risk my life if I take this hormone.

Meanwhile, we’ve got those assholes in Ohio deciding they know what’s best for trans youth and adults. They want to prevent trans kids from getting gender-affirming care and take it away from adults who have already transitioned. It always amazes me when people decide they know what’s best for everyone. Who made them God? (Not that I believe in God.) These folks are not concerned that trans folks are harmed by being denied the hormone treatment they need. So, I’m allowed to get my hormones unless the hormones might somehow hurt me. My trans kid, if they live in Ohio, doesn’t get their hormones, despite the fact this prohibition hurts them. I feel like I’m back in that CVS line!

When I first started writing this column, I was new to the haters. I knew my positions on political issues, but I avoided political arguments, even though I fervently believed (and still do) that, as poet Adrienne Rich wrote, “The moment a feeling enters the body is political.” I was bewildered by the haters who wrote me. I felt the strange need to ask if they’d meet me for coffee so we might work out why they were so angry. Preoccupied with the emotional registers of their e-mails, sometimes I actually worried about them.

A correspondent I’ll call Norman wrote me because he felt I’d overlooked folks with his perspective. He felt strongly that his transphobia was not “hateful.” I explained to Norman that my audience for this column is educated, left-leaning people who believe they are accommodating of trans folks, but do not yet know how to turn accommodation into active support.  I also want to create a space for dialogue for all those folks with trans loved ones who want to educate themselves. There’s a lot of grief in that work. The worst thing about having a trans loved one is always fearing for their safety. You lie awake at night worried about how they are denied recognition of their true self in every aspect of society.

Back in the CVS line again, I can’t stop thinking about an appointment JJ, my 15-year-old trans kid, had at the dermatologist last week. JJ has had some intense acne since they were prescribed testosterone a couple years ago. Our gender doctor said it would subside after two years on the hormone. We’d made an appointment with Dr. K, a dermatologist, nine months in advance. When we finally met her, it was clear she was a hurry. Our appointment was for 3:45.; the office closed at 4. 

I was distracted by Dr. K’s flawless skin and wondered if, as a dermatologist, she had access to elusive secret treatments. She glanced at JJ’s face and launched into a litany of prescriptions. It felt like she was performing a monologue on acne treatment that she repeated on the hour.  

Dr. K knew nothing about trans people or trans treatment, including the important fact that some drugs and treatments she was ready to prescribe might be inappropriate for a person on a sustained prescription of testosterone. She admitted she’d not had any trans patients prior to JJ. She did not apologize for the misunderstanding.

JJ turned to look at me. I looked down into the gray-green depths of their eyes. Here’s what I need you to know: Thinking you support trans folks by accommodating them, as Dr. K does, is not enough. Thinking you are OK with trans people is only thinking.

People like Dr. K are my audience, because I like to think she wants to know how to be better, unlike Norman. Remember Norman? No? Neither do I.

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This essay originally appeared in the March 2024 issue of The Bollard.