I heard an interesting definition for the word "beauty" today. It went something like "It's how you identify yourself on the inside and show it on the outside, and don't you care about what anyone else thinks or says about it." There's a lot of emotion attached to that simple definition, although it's hard for me to say whether the person saying this meant for it to have such an impact, or if she was simply attempting to complete her assignment. It was during a speech.
One I also had to give. Not on the definition of beauty, but a speech nonetheless. And guess what? I didn't die! I didn't even have paralyzing nerves. Maybe it's because I had enough of nerves yesterday.
Oh, so I went to the doctor's yesterday. (This is something rare for me, being raised in a house with little money and no health insurance until recently. So this is a bit of an event.) Turns out my wrist pain is carpal tunnel...Let's hope I don't need surgery for that, or, if I do, the insurance will cover it. If not...well...I don't really know, it's not like I'll be getting any of my really important surgeries any time soon.
About the more important part of my appointment now! The doctor said he didn't know of anyone in the whole state who deals with hormone therapy, anyone who'd be experienced with it. (Fuck my shit for living in the first state to do anything bad, and the last one to do anything good.) So he recommended me to a therapist, one that I hope will have at least some experience with or an idea of how to treat me; I want the luxury of not having to worry about how long it's going to take to be approved for hormones. I'd rather know what I'm getting into up-front.
This appointment wasn't anything like the last doctor's office, when I told the doctor I was transgender and he said, "oh, well, good luck with that..." That's what I get for going to a rich white people doctor, rather than the doctor who takes insurance (the one I went to yesterday). Thanks, mom, for that recommendation last year.
My mom yelled at me because I didn't leave the office with depression medication that she swears up and down I need, and my best friend told me my liver was going to shut down and I'm going to die because of how many Excedrin Migraine pills I take. That being said, I told the nurse I was "maybe" interested in preventative medication for my frequent migraines, but nobody said anything about it once the doctor was around...
In the end, I consider it a success. I'm getting a specialist to call me about carpal tunnel and I have the name of a psychiatrist.
In other terms, I survived my first week of term. Now I have to survive work tomorrow.
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