After all Fenway has put me through, after all their hype and hypocrisy regarding "optimizing patient outcomes" and keeping a patient under consistent one-on-one relational care, my nurse practitioner informed me this past appointment that he's leaving for another practice. He barely lasted two months. As per usual, he's actually not the one I'm mad at; whichever his likely reason for leaving, I don't blame him. Any respectable medical worker probably wouldn't sit right with how Fenway can treat its patients or the way Fenway itself is run. But regardless, with him leaving and passing me over to yet-another NP that I know nothing about (is she his replacement already?), I've taken that as a massive sign to get the hell out of there. I now have a month in which to do so. Albeit this is far earlier than I expected, but I simply refuse to go into another's hands and stand for such sudden and odd discussions of even more presumably unnecessary changes, such as changing the concentration of my T or spacing things out weekly when there is no just cause. Fenway, you screw up even the simplest tasks; don't make this even harder. By this point, I don't see why I'd be worried about another practice messing up my care while I'm early-T. Seems kind of laughable and shortsighted.
I won't even bother here with the additional headaches and backtracking that I seem to get in different varieties with every appointment; all I'll say is I'll be damned if I'm suddenly not allowed to go independent for next shot. While my feet have been planted in the ground already based on what I was told last time, I've become even more adamant since independency now plays a crucial role in my ability to suddenly change practitioners. Once I get my syringes et al (they wouldn't give me the RXs themselves), I'm running away to better things. And yes, I'm bold enough to automatically believe any new choice will be better because, well, I honestly don't know how medical treatment could be any worse and still be categorized as legal.
Good T news is my bloods have again returned fine and I'm being bumped up to 100mg every two weeks starting next shot, double of what I'd been taking. Standard procedure, very cool, hopefully I'll start to see more changes. I rocked this last shot again and am feeling very comfortable with the idea of taking care of my own shots. Now if only I could find a practice that regards me with the same care levels that I do for myself. Which actually isn't asking much.
Most recent T changes: oily skin (particularly my forehead, as in leaving-a-print-on-a-surface oily; meh), some things not appropriate to discuss here, and I'm starting to "taste" my T for roughly a 24-hour time span after I inject. It kind of tastes like a mix of cold, used frying oil and that backwash of gritty throat. It's not particularly pleasant, but also not cumbersome enough to get in the way of my life. Apparently this side effect may or may not go away as I continue T.
So I think I mentioned that part of my RA involves going through Section 377 (sodomy) cases of Indian law all the way back to 1884 and documenting the given ages and genders of the offended of each case. All have been heartbreaking in their own way and some downright unnerving. I wouldn't exactly call it fun work, though I like knowing that I'm part of something that could help make the world just that much better.
Today I read a 1934 case involving a man caught violating the nostril of a bullock, of whom he'd tied to a tree. After reading over 50 detailed cases thus far of horrific things primarily done to children, my sleepy, vocabularily-stunted self starts thinking, "How horrible!" and proceeds to look up the word "bullock" because I could find no documentation of age or gender, and assumed the word was some sort of Indian term for a sex worker. Upon enlightenment, all I could say was, "...Oh." It was one of the rare times I did a real, physical facepalm.
Shall we label me closed-mindedness for not expecting to read up on nostril bestiality in a stack of sodomy cases? "Offended was apparently a bull," I had to write in my notes, "and the act involved his nostril. Case has not been added to table." That poor bull. All kidding aside, it must've really sucked to have a penis crammed up your nose. Or really blowed, as my friend was compelled to oh-so-poignantly correct.
I think I'll go back to work now.