Half the Battle

At the last span of the dreaded whopping head cold spreading what seems the nation. It couldn’t have come at a better time. There hasn’t been a bunch of focus on the events of the past week. Till now. While I graciously (wildly) accepted the hard copy of the prescription for T last Tuesday, it’s been lost in the red tape insurance company vortex. Hobbled five blocks from the train station in the rain with my partner, G, an umbrella and cane to make the 1:20 p.m. appointment at the medical center. Figure that’s how I caught the cold.

We walked slowly back to the station, rode home and made a bee line for the pharmacy. Although cautioned by my practitioner the likelihood of the script being filled with insurance monies was practically nil, I held hope. Screech! Sorry, prior authorization required. I could tell the guy behind the counter cared. By his look. We know one another from my frequent visits filling my scripts for psyche meds. Plus, it wasn’t for estrogen, after all. He couldn’t know I’d been forewarned the companies “hesitate” to fill prescriptions for T when the patient is female.

There are many more awkward, sensitive, trifling and ungodly acts occurring in the world and the result of my T being held up fits narrowly within its structure. There is, however, the surprise appointment availability of receiving a top surgery consult with the plastic surgeon for next week. Less apt to jump up and down over this, for various reasons, I find I’m more complacent than anything. When I came out to myself as trans, I turned to food as comfort and in the nine month period to now I’ve put on twenty hefty pounds. Getting my BMI back to normal and raising money for the procedure has me putting breaks on like crazy where all is concerned.

Missed a gender therapy appointment due to silly cold and an intake with a prospective couples’ therapist. My hair, which is buzzed yet styled, is mercilessly weighing on my brain. Like I said, there is so much more to worry about than having crappy hair. Having good thoughts of being physically well enough to attend my weekly meeting of J.W. tomorrow. And attend the new group  in which I’ve enrolled, scheduled Wednesdays for the following twelve weeks, entitled: Managing Strong Emotions. Getting there, is half the battle, or so I’m told.

About sam davies

I write under the pseudonym, Sam Davies.
This entry was posted in FTM, Gratititude, Hope, Hormone Replacement Therapy, Mental health, Reality and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Half the Battle

  1. Sherry M. says:

    I work for an allergist. He often writes prescriptions for asthma drugs that the patient discovers later requires prior authorization. So we call the insurance company and give them the authorization. It usually works as long as we state that the patient has tried other things first. I don’t know if that helps you, but I just thought I’d mention it. I hope you can get the prescriptions you need. Sherry


  2. Flo Shore says:

    Excellent and so well written!


  3. Hi, Sam. I’m new to your blog but just read it, all of it – from the start in September 2015 to this most recent post. I don’t know where to begin. As a straight female, uneducated about FTM (and who am I kidding? uneducated about most matters not of a “straight” disposition), I admire and am thankful for people like you, brave enough to be their authentic Self and help teach those of us who would like to know and understand them better. I am grateful that I do not feel any sense of fear for people “unlike” me, but then again, I believe that we are not so different from one another after all in our spiritual aspect, our deepest and truest nature. Like you mentioned in one of your posts, we all have a closet and it takes incredible courage to emerge. It takes love too, and lots of it. Love first and foremost for yourself. I believe you have that. Your writing emits genuine and heartfelt love to others and you can’t love others if you don’t love yourself first. So keep loving yourself, Sam. You deserve it and so do we. I’m looking forward to more. Thanks for sharing such a personal and moving journey. Sending you a cyber HUG.


    • sam davies says:

      Oh my gosh. No one else has said they’d read my blog from the beginning to present. Your comments move me in the direction of writing another post. Let’s say I lost steam, yet not my faith, to post this month or so. Thank you for re-starting my proverbial engine, my friend. Thanks for the hug and right back atcha!

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s