Trans Health Crisis
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I'm sitting in a cardiologist's waiting room filling out my intake forms. The tip of my pen hovers above the ubiquitous binary boxes. Female or male? I was born female-bodied and I identify as female--as a lesbian butch. However, some people see me as a feminine male. And whether they guess male or female, I am always perceived as "queer" because my gender expression is very fluid and complex. I am transgender. Which box do I check to get the medical attention I need so badly right now?
I sit here recalling recent studies showing that females my age are more likely than males to die from heart attacks. The symptoms of females are not necessarily the same as those of men. Distorted through the lens of sexism, these symptoms are often not recognized or taken seriously enough. I consider all this and decide to check the "F" box, hoping the doctor will take my birth sex into account in listening to my cardiac symptoms.
One of the 2 women at the front desk takes the clipboard and flashes me a generous smile. "Have a seat. sir." Minutes later she calls out, "Miss Feinberg, do you have insurance?" I stand up; she looks bewildered. To her credit, she recovers quickly. She goes out of her way to be warm to me.
I sit back down and leaf through a magazine. The other woman at the front desk explodes in derisive laughter. She comments out loud about a patient's records: "Do you know what's on this man's chart? This man had a breast biopsy!" She snorts and snickers in a mean-spirited way. Everyone in the waiting room can hear her.
You may be appalled at that breach of patient confidentiality. But as a transgender patient, I have another take on it. I hear her backwardness about sex and gender variance, and I hear her intolerance. I feel...
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