13
1/11/22
The forms that the receptionist sent me have lain unread in my inbox since they arrived. I've made plans several times to fill them out, but it's only now that I am sitting in the clinic waiting to be called in, that I have remembered to do it. There's a pleasant surprise at the top; it asks for my pronouns before it asks anything else. Not only that, but it doesn't just say "He/him, She/her, other (Please define)". It lists every neopronoun I've ever heard of and more. I put a circle around they/them, it does feel a bit strange, to be taking claim of that identity, but I feel a validated anyway.
Preferred name: Archie.
Age: 24
I quickly fill out the forms in time to hear a short, plump woman call out my name.
"Archie Baker"
I don't like my last name, it's dad's last name. Mum started going by her maiden name when they divorced, same as my two older sisters, but I kept Baker as mine, I'm not sure why. Dani took Lea's last name when they married. So, it's just me and Ollie now, the two bakers. If we ever started a patisserie, that'd be the name.
Her office looks the same as every doctor's office I've ever been in. There are stuffed animals on the shelves, higher than any child could reach. There are several artworks pinned to her corkboard. I wonder if she has kids, or if they are from patients. I laugh to myself at the thought of handing her a drawing as a thank you.
"So, Archie" she says, placing her hands in her lap "What are we doing today?"
"Um... I wanted to ask about Hormones, about hormone replacement therapy."
"Uh-huh" she says, typing into her computer "Are you currently on HRT?"
"No, I, I came out as non-binary recently," I explain, shifting awkwardly in my seat.
"uh-huh."
"And I just want to find out more about it, in case I decide I want to start." Why do I feel like I need justify myself?
"Sure, what would you like to know?" she asks, looking up from her computer.
"Um... everything" I laugh "I suppose I want to know if you're able to prescribe it to non-binary people or do I have to be trans?" I say.
"Oh, well, plenty of Enbies seek HRT. You do fall under the trans umbrella" she says reassuring me on a point I hadn't considered. She knows what Enbies are, that's a good start. "So that's no issue. I use an informed consent structure to prescribe HRT. If you want it then I'll ask you a few questions and let you know the side effects. If you want to go ahead then we will go from there" she continues.
"Sweet, and um. Huh, awkward question..." I pause, dreading having to say the next bit.
"That's ok, there's no silly questions here" she says, Smiling warmly. Doctors seem unshakable when it comes to awkward topics.
"I've heard you can get shrinkage... down stairs." I say, glancing down as if she doesn't know what I mean.
"Yes, the testes do shrink and atrophy." She says, clinically I wince at the word, why do doctors always make this so weird? I swear they take pleasure in watching people squirm.
"And the... my penis" I say. Why can't I just call it a cock? Actually nope, that'd be weird too.
"Well, you will notice you stop getting erections throughout the night and in the morning. If you don't use it regularly you can lose some size, but we can mediate that with a topical testosterone cream and self-maintenance" she says, Self-maintenance? For the love of God find another term! She turns back to her notes, adding more details. I wonder if she's writing the questions I asked, I don't want that documented.
YOU ARE READING
Archie, Darling. A Queer Romance
RomanceIt all started with a dress, just a tartan dress. Oh how far I've come. Archie Baker is 24, Australian, and lost. He has been living a lie, playing a role he thought he had to play. After escaping an abusive relationship, enough is enough. If this i...