New Trans Teen Clinic In Toronto

I remember what a revelation it was for me--in my 40's--to learn of the existence of the Callen Lorde Community Health Center.

I've been going there ever since I began counseling for my gender identity issues.  To this day, my primary care doctor and gynecologist are based there.

When I started going to Callen Lorde, I was happy to learn of their program for LGBT youth. In fact, I referred a couple of young people who were in my support groups to it, as the program was available to those up to the age of 22.  "I wish there'd been something like that when I was their age," I mused.

Now, in Toronto, there's such a program for transgender teenagers, based in the Sick Kids Hospital.  There had been two other clinics for trans teens in Canada's largest city, but they provided only mental health care.  The clinic in Sick Kids is the first to provide medical care, including hormones for some.  

Most important, those who have created the Sick Kids clinic seem to understand that trans kids and teenagers have specific medical issues that, if left untreated, can lead to risky behavior such as unprotected sex, substance abuse and even suicide attempts.  I know all about such things, believe me.

Some may think that such programs "confuse" kids or "push" them into transitioning.  If they're anything like the programs I used at Callen Lorde and the LGBT Community Center, I doubt very highly if such a thing would happen.  If anything, I found the screening to be rigorous though supportive.  I hope--and somehow suspect--that the folks at Sick Kids will be like that--and that they will provide an atmosphere in which young people who may believe they are trans (or simply know they don't fit into the gender and sexuality boxes their schools, communities and, in some cases, families have given them) can look for information and guidance.  

 

What We Experience

For a decade, I've been getting my healthcare and referrals from the Callen-Lorde Community Health Center.  At times, they can be maddeningly disorganized.  But every health care provider and other staff member I've encountered there has made great efforts to be helpful.   Plus, Richie Tran is the kind of doctor I always wished I could find before my transition.  Well, maybe such doctors were out there, but I wasn't ready to talk to any of them, even if they could have heard what I wanted to say.

It seems that Callen Lorde's equivalent in Boston is Fenway Health.  They do a lot of outreach--at least, every time I do a web search for anything related to LGBT health care, I come across something or another they've posted.  And it's all been useful.

They really seem to like infographics.  That's probably a good thing:  Not everyone likes to read, or has the patience to do so, I guess.  Fenway's stuff is eye-catching, and often appealing.  If nothing else, they get their point across, as they do in this one:

If you can enlarge the infographic, look at the row of statistics to the left of the US map:  Discrimination In Public Accomodations.  Thirty-seven percent of us report having been harassed or disrespected in retail stores; three percent of us have been assaulted.  For hotels and restaurants, those statistics are very similar:  35 and 2 percent.  

I am one of the 29 percent of trans people who's been harassed or disrepected by the police, and the 29 percent who've had such experiences in health care settings.  Fortunately for me, I haven't been assaulted by police officers or in health care settings, though two and six percent, respectively, of trans people have had such experiences.

And other trans people have had it worse.  Much worse. 

You Never Know Where They'll Find You, Or You'll Find Them

"Small world!," we exclaimed in unison.


"We" being myself and one of my students.


As you probably figured out, we bumped into each other outside the college.  The venue is what made our encounter really interesting:  We met in my doctor's offices.


I'd gone there for a follow-up to my visit of the other day.  I'm getting better, she said, though it will probably be a few more days before my eye infection totally clears up.  I don't know why my studnent was there; I was so shocked upon seeing her that I didn't ask.    She found out about my affliction only because I tipped my sunglasses upward as I was talking to her.  "No wonder you weren't in class!" she gasped.


I suppose that there is at least some chance that an instructor would have the same doctor as one of her students.   In the case of my student, it should not have been a great surprise, I suppose, if for no other reason that she lives literally around the corner from the doctor's office.  


The real surprise of meeting her there is that my doctor is part of the Callen Lorde Community Health Center in Chelsea.  They specialize in care for LGBT people and HIV/AIDS.  I started going to C-L when I had decided to embark upon my gender transition.   At first, I was going there for my transition-related issues, including my hormones.   But I decided to make the doctor I found there my primary-care physician because I figured, correctly, that it would be easier to have a doctor who already knew that about me than to discuss them with some other doctor who may or may not be understanding.


Now, I am going to reveal something about myself that some of you may find unappealing.  I was surprised to meet my student at C-L because, well, I didn't figure her to be part of the LGBT spectrum.  Actually, I didn't notice her actual or possible sexual orientation or gender identity. Usually, when that happens, it means that the person is cisgender and straight, or possibly bisexual-leaning-toward-straight.  I guess I still have what people in gender studies call a hetero-normative view of the world.


Of course, I didn't articulate any of this for my student.  But she probably could sense what I was thinking, as she is very perceptive.  "I come here because the people here are are really good.  And really nice."  I nodded agreement.  "A friend of mine told me about her," she added.


We talked a bit more.  "You want to get back to class, don't you?" she asked.


"Yes.  Being sick drives me crazy.  It wouldn't be so bad if my eyes didn't hurt and I could read--and write--more."


"That must really bother you. "


"It does.  So does not being in class."


"You enjoy it, don't you?"  Again, I nodded.  "And you like us."


"Of course!"  That is the truth, even if the college (It's the one where my main job is.) exasperates, frustrates and infuriates me at times.


"Well, I hope you're back next week,"


"I probably will be."