transgirl23ny (imported) wrote: Mon Oct 03, 2005 5:29 pm Me personally... i HATE my groin, and im terrified of people poking around down there. Doctors or not, the idea sends chills down my spine. My surgeons can touch it all they like, but nobody else!!!

This begs the question TG 23 of NY...

If you hate your groin, what is going to happen once you are fully transgendered and ready for a full-time lover? Are you going to be a changed person once surgery is complete and no longer hate your goin?...

Just poking fun you know...

Take care,

transgirl23ny (imported) wrote: Mon Oct 03, 2005 5:29 pm Me personally... i HATE my groin, and im terrified of people poking around down there. Doctors or not, the idea sends chills down my spine. My surgeons can touch it all they like, but nobody else!!!

I'm quite comfortable with my genitals and always enjoy other people fondling them, especially now that the balls are gone. There's no longer the pain from just casual or erotic touching. I can recall hoping that others wouldn't touch my balls when I had them. Most gay guys seem to enjoy their genitals being fondled - by one and all. I've had 2 rings placed in my scrotum to entertain other guys in the absence of nads. My doc just feels my empty sac and does the prostate exam in concert with my annual physical exam.

I can understand why you might not like people fondling genitals you're hoping will be removed and hope you start enjoying touch more when they're gone.

As far as doctors go, I think it's more to do with their age (generations differ, that's just a fact) and the environment they grew up in. The doctor I had from 8-18 was maybe slightly older than my dad (he'd be 70-something now, I guess). When I tried to explain my migraines to him, he wouldn't hear it. He couldn't admit that I, a MAN *giggle* was in an amount of pain that I couldn't handle. Gave me ibuprophen. fucking IBUPROPHEN!

Second doctor (45-ish female) I only saw 2 or 3 times, when I was on my way out of the air force. She took my concerns seriously, seemed to really care about people, and was concerned more about my feelings and health than getting me back into the war engine. First thing she did when I told her about the headaches was set up an appointment with a neurologist for me. Then she gave me a script for zoloft. She seemed to think its funny 'sexual side-effect' would bother me (zoloft can, sometimes, cause dry orgasm in 'normal' men).

I was kicked out of the force the DAY OF my neuro appointment.

Third doctor I saw was a man of about 40. We traded horror stories of our achy feet (both of us have displaced arches. normal, but they 'flatten' (spread, really) when weight is applied). If it hadn't been for him, I'd be dead as hell right now. He came along at just the right time. My migraines were getting worse by the day, and I could feel something disturbing growing/lurking behind my eyes. When I told him about all my head problems, he practically pushed me down to radiology (it was a small clinic, but very cutting-edge). I only had to wait half-a-week to find out if there was anything between my ears or not. (they didn't find anything, btw, just vacuum) So we talked about medications I could try, and he gave me a few options to start on. I really liked that. I'd never been allowed options before!

Topamax saved me. Kept the migraines tolerable, and let me think coherently for the first time in 8 years. So I thought about what that monster I couldn't see might possibly be.

Finally caught hold of the beast one night at work, while in a self-induced catatonic state (when I zone out, I zone waaaaay out). I dragged the creature into the light, and was about to start shouting at it, shaking and throttling the monster, when I realized it was me, standing in a perfect meadow, wearing a bright yellow dress, as garishly colored signs proclaiming 'GIRL' in all colors known to pain spraing spontaneously into existance, like so many holographic vidwindows in an anime. (yes, my mind can be blunt, vindictive, and zany at the same time, even to me)

Which led me, through a therapist, to my fourth doctor. He was really only responsible for the administration of my HRT, but all-in-all, he was a right 'ol chap. Never tried to stab me with a pronoun, never talked down to me about what I was doing, knowing I had no intention of living as a woman full time. Sure wish I could afford to start seeing him again soon...

I had to quit the job that paid those bills though. 4pm-4am in a 120F bread-machine, coupled with the topamax (one of its side effects is weight loss) had driven me from 180 down to 140 in two MONTHS. I was a mess.

Which, after almost 2 years with no medical treatment or check-ups whatsoever, brings me to roughly now, and my present doctor. She's this tiny little girl (can't be 30 yet, hey, I could date her if she wasn't married!) from India. My mother is her nanny, so she's seeing me free until I can get some insurance. In my two visits with her, I've probably matched the actual conversation time of all my other doctors put together (except therapists, of course). She really cares about people, and you can see it.

Definitely not a male/female thing as far as general service, but, no doctor-type person has seen my genitals since I was 8 or so, so the emotional reaction to said bits is not something i can judge.