I went to the gynecologist this afternoon. Forty miles there, forty back, for a five minute appointment. I drive that far because she works a lot with transgender patients (handles HRT and such) and so is sensitive towards my dysphoria over having my crotch and chest examined.
Everything seems to be okay except for the fact that I continue to have extremely irregular periods. I’ve had two this year. I went two years without having one at all, until last summer. I argued with the doctor about it.
Her: You need to have periods every 60 days. Maybe 90 at the most. I’ll give you ten days of progesterone to jump start a period next month.
Me: Um, female hormones make me suicidal and/or psychotic.
Her: But you really need to get rid of the uterine lining. It can cause cancer in twenty years if you don’t shed it.
Me: No hormones. I don’t want to kill myself.
Her: Well, maybe now that you’re more stable on your psych meds…?
Me: I was completely stable before the last time I took progesterone. A low dose made me start hoarding psych meds with plans to kill myself.
Her: Maybe we should start thinking about a hysterectomy. I’d leave the ovaries in.
I’m seriously considering it. I’ve thought about having one before, many times. Maybe I should just bite the bullet and get the malfunctioning equipment removed. Goodness knows, periods make my dysphoria even worse…