Nobody likes going to the doctor’s office. It can be expensive and time-consuming. You primarily go only when you already feel sick and irritable, and none of us have conquered the cowering 3-year-old inside who quivers at the idea of getting a shot. For trans people, however, going to the doctor’s office puts an entirely new unpleasant slant on the whole affair.
Before I was able to get my chest reconstruction surgery, more commonly known as top surgery, I had to have a physical exam from my doctor and a written statement that I was healthy enough to undergo anesthesia. While this was all perfectly ordinary, the visit to the doctor’s office was anything but. I spent the majority of the time in the waiting room terrified by the idea that the doctor would learn what I was there to do and kindly, or perhaps not so kindly, tell me to leave without giving me what I needed.
While having my clotting factors checked, my nurse asked what the physical was for. When I told him I was traveling to Florida for top surgery, he seemed surprised and then proceeded to ask “what way I was going,” trying to ascertain if I was assigned female at birth and transitioning to male or assigned male at birth and transitioning to female. It took everything in me not to snap back, “Southeast, that’s where Florida is from here.”
His inquiry wasn’t medically relevant, as what it says on my birth certificate has no bearing on how quickly my blood clots. The expression on his face also didn’t endear him to me, as he was clearly looking at me like I’d escaped from a display case somewhere. People feel comfortable asking trans people questions about themselves that they’d never ask anyone else, because while his question may seem innocent, when you think about it, it was nothing more than a polite way to ask me what my genitals are. My business and my business alone is what they are.
But these moments of rudeness are only parts of a larger problem. Between my three different therapists, surgery, and hormone costs, medically transitioning is an expensive process. I’m lucky enough to be able to afford it, but there are others who are much less fortunate. Many insurance policies don’t cover trans-related health care, and a whopping 19 percent of trans people have no health insurance at all, according to a study from the National Center for Transgender Equality.
Access to competent medical care is something everyone deserves, and the problem can’t get any better until it’s acknowledged first. So, while it is very exciting that the Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage this summer, it’s important to remember that there are still some more basic needs the queer community has to achieve.
We can’t sit back and enjoy the victory. Trans people need to be able to see doctors that can attend to their needs just like cisgendered people, and that just isn’t happening right now. It’s going to take more than an ophthalmologist to fix this oversight.
Morgan Philley is a senior English major from Clinton.
