Avoiding true understanding: My experience as a trans person in the ER

One of the most difficult hurdles for trans people is finding educated health care practitioners. 50% of trans people said they had to educate their health care provider about trans care in the 2011 survey by the National Center for Transgender Equality. I’ve vetted many of my health care providers to ensure I go somewhere safe, educated and accepting but what is outside of my control is medical emergencies.

Yesterday, I had a medical emergency – cellulitis. I was in a rural Indiana town for work and realized that the bump on my arm was going to need immediate medical attention. Beyond concern for my health, I was most worried about where to get treated. I eventually picked a hospital in a suburb of Indianapolis. A few things to note: my appearance is typical (as in society’s definition) masculinity (a bit more fashionable but… you get the idea), my legal name is still my birth name Natasha and my legal sex is still F. However, if I had my way all this wouldn’t even be documented or matter but I don’t want to get lost in this blog. So, I knew going in there would be some hurdles to jump through to affirm I am who I say I am.

I registered with the front desk and immediately said, ‘I’m trans. My legal name and the name on my insurance is Natasha but I prefer to be called Leo.’ The person at the desk nodded. A staff member came out and called ‘Kenneth Johnson’ and Kenneth walked back (not his real last name). Then they called ‘Caldwell’. You know why they called ‘Caldwell’ because they didn’t know what the fuck to do with a preferred name versus a legal name. They avoided true understanding when they nodded but did nothing to ensure my preferred name was called. I went back and the nurse came in. She was awesome. I clicked with her right away. She reminded of some of my sarcastic friends. I respond warmly to sarcasm. I know.. it’s sick. She took my vitals and asked all the questions. I said, ‘Also, I’m trans. For me that means I was born female at birth and now I’m male.’ She said, ‘OH yeah. They have you in as male in here.’ and moved on.

Let’s pause here. Seems like she was ‘pretty cool with the trans thing.’ But you see this is the thing, she should’ve taken the time to get clarity or asked what made me feel comfortable – pronouns etc and made some notes for the doctor. Plus, at this point she could’ve made the rest of the appointment complete free of me having to answer anymore questions outside my medical emergency. Instead, she did what most people do – she avoided true understanding. I think this happens because people get uncomfortable when they meet or experience something new and they want to normalize it to show how cool they are with it. I’d prefer them to truly understand what that means even if it means I have to educate them. However, if any place should be educated in the trans population it should be the medical community. In a more perfect world, I’d like for people to not assume someone’s gender or pronouns before asking but we are far from that.

Next, the doctor comes in. She busts into the door and says, ‘Mrs. Caldwell….’ as she is looking at my pretty typical masculine appearance (again this is more about how society as a whole views notions of masculinity). I  was shocked because it’s been a long time since someone has said Mrs. ‘Uh I go by Mr. I’m trans…’ She cut me off before I could even finish and moved right on to the issue at hand – the giant, infected bump on my arm. I found that whole interaction fucking rude. First, let’s just drop Mrs. Mr. Ms. can we? Unless you know someone’s identity. She avoided true understanding in favor of sweeping the whole interaction under the rug.

After these two interactions, another person came into my room and had a new sticker for my paper medical bracelet. She said, ‘I need to give you a new one of these.’ I was like… ‘Oh, shit. I’m getting admitted. Oh shit, something is wrong.’ Without explaining, she switched my band and I looked and saw the big old F for female. For me, being female is an important part of my past so it doesn’t pain me to see this however, I expected some explanation. If she would’ve taken the time to tell me the reasons behind this new sticker than maybe we could’ve come to a true understanding. But again, we avoided it.

In the end, true understanding is often bypassed for the appearance of sensitivity. All I want when I go into a medical setting is for the team to understand what it means for me when I say I’m trans. Identifying as trans is different for everyone so they need to listen to our individual wishes. I’d like to not have to explain to every single person that walks into my room what my identity is. I’d like to be more concerned about the medical issue than how I’ll be treated. I’m tired of living in fear.

Eventually, I’d love to see the gender binary completely disappear from the medical community. Instead, treat bodies and treat reproduction. Get rid of men’s health and women’s health.

For now, I’d be happy to be able to walk into an ER and not be terrified.

*This was written under the influence of benadryl and exhaustion. Forgive me for typos or missing words. 🙂 Also, I’m feeling a bit better. My arm looks a lot better.