My General Practitioner just called me. To remind my readers, after the doctor who treated me for my transition died in a car accident I was in search for a replacement before my prescriptions ran out. The obvious choice was my GP since it was a matter of picking up the script. He refused saying he had no training in the field and it was more complicated than just reissuing prescriptions.
I found the specialist in Atlanta, a five-hour drive. Well worth the effort. Meanwhile just last month I had my semi-annual check-up with the GP. After his exam he asked how the “Atlanta treatment” was going. I told him everything and we discussed the tests and results just so he’d be aware. After all, he had to drop one of my medications because it conflicted with the HRT. No judgment, just good doctor care.
So maybe ten minutes ago he calls. In an oblique manner he asked “do you recall the question you asked at the end of last year?” That could only mean one thing so I said yes. “I have a patient who came to me with the same request. Would you be willing to give me the name of the doctor you see in Atlanta?” So by the time I stopped squealing I said sure, just let me look it up.
THERE IS A TRANSGENDER SOMEWHERE IN MY TOWN! Besides me, that is. I wonder if I’ll run into him/her (the doctor didn’t say whether it MTF or FTM… wouldn’t make a difference).
Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to have coffee with? Share a noontime sandwich? Just talk mutual concerns. <sigh>
I am not surprised. Glad I didn’t make a reservation.
Five Stars, November 1, 2016
Isabella Belucci 