Starting All Over Again...

My latest blog post, that is.

I've come to realize that I find out how I feel by writing.

I often start my posts with no clear idea of what I'm writing about (and usually end them the same way, I'm sure some feel!), but at some point all of sudden something clicks, and I get "it" - whatever "it" is.

And then I'm off.

This time though, that nagging feeling of floundering around persisted. (This is what's happened at work since I started; it must be contagious. In fact, that was part of the inspiration for this post.)

I worked on it all weekend, but the longer I spent on it the more it felt as if it was getting away from me.

I was telling my doctor about this at my appointment today (more on that in a moment).

She asked how much time I'd spent on it.

I told her.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a tendency to go overboard on things?" she asked.

I allowed as how, yes, that had come up once or twice in the past.

She raised her eyebrows, and suddenly I got it.

"I've only seen you a few times, but I can see that you're really determined to get where you want to be, and to do it right," she said. "And you will. I have no doubt.

"But sometimes you just need to give yourself a break. Just for a bit."

I'd heard this before.

But this time I listened. As you'll see, that was one of the messages I got last week.

So when I got home, I looked at the twelve pages I'd written and rewritten over the course of eight-plus hours this weekend...

And ditched them.

I'm not totally sure how I'll rework them; I suspect they're really two or more related posts.

I'll figure it out.

Just not tonight.

And that's OK.

***

As I mentioned, I had an appointment with my new doctor, J, today.

I had rescheduled my appointment with her several times because of how crazy work has been before I came to my senses. If ever there was a case of the tail wagging the dog, this was it.

One of the reasons I left my previous doctor was the difficulty I had with getting him to perform the most basic of his duties. And from what I've heard, I'm not alone.

I saw J for the first time over six weeks ago. She volunteered to call my old doctor to request my records.

A few weeks later she called to say they had never arrived. Nor had anyone called her back. So she asked if I would call.

So I did.

And then I called again.

And again.

Then work got out of hand, and I didn't have a chance to follow up with J. Since I didn't hear from her, I assumed all was well.

I was, of course, wrong.

That's right; they STILL haven't faxed my records.

I really don't know what to do next.

The only option left is to drive down there (it's over an hour away) and refuse to leave until someone gives me the records.

I cannot believe he would allow this to happen.

But he has.

Repeatedly.

Transitioning is hard enough without the people on whom you count - and pay, I might add - failing to live up to their responsibilities.

But if I have to drive down there, I will.

He certainly is not going to get in my way any longer.

It's just a shame that it has come to this.

***

On a much lighter note, I've decided that J is pretty awesome. :c)

When I told her about M's priceless reaction to my news, she burst out laughing.

And when I related his unique take on what I might look like post-transition, she laughed even harder.

"I've never met him but I like him already!" she said.

"People like that are *so* important when you going through this," she added. "It's great that you have them."

Don't I know it!

***

And last but not least, I have to relate one last moment from my appointment.

I've been taking pills since I started HRT, so I asked if switching to a patch or pills would be a better option, given the potential for liver damage.

J explained that given my health and the results of the last blood work, I was fine.

She further said that, rather than  swallow the Estradiol, I could simply slip them under my tongue and let them dissolve. That way, they enter the bloodstream but aren't processed by the liver.

I had never heard that, and thanked her for the suggestion.

"Glad to help," she said as we walked to the lobby. "By the way, in case you're wondering, they don't taste bad."

She paused.

"Or so I'm told."

It was my turn to burst out laughing. :c)

Who says transitioning can't be fun?!?

***

Here's some Hall & Oates for your Monday evening:

And here's a moving version of "So Close,"which is my favorite H&O song.

Boy, Change of Season is a seriously underrated album...

BTW, if you've never seen Daryl Hall's TV show (Live from Daryl's House), it is well worth a viewing or three. Here's a clip with the amazing Dianne Birch: