Well, maybe not anymore.
So I have a health update for you. I'm going on seven months on testosterone, and my last blood panel was a little (tugs collar) unsatisfactory. Before I started my hemoglobin was already getting a little high for a female (15.4), gradually it went up to about 17.2 which is not great. So my doctor told me to start donating blood every six weeks.
Due to the whole biological sex technicality I am really not considered a large HIV risk, my tattoo is several years old, and my blood is perfectly good, so I went to a blood center to donate. In the chit-chat during the interview I casually mentioned that my doctor suggested that I donate blood due to my hemoglobin. Which caused the interviewer to go get somebody else to come in and interrogate me over why my hemoglobin was high. I said it was injectable testosterone, which is not something that is on the list of inappropriate medication. They manufactured all of this into "we can't take your blood because it's a therapeutic draw and we need a prescription."
I asked my doctor for a prescription, she told me they were "giving me the runaround" and that there is no reason it should have to be considered a therapeutic draw. She said to go somewhere else and just not say anything, because it's not pertinent to donating anyway. I go somewhere else, and mysteriously the computer doesn't like it when they try entering my personal information into it, but they send me to their own interview room anyway. I'm in there and she's just about to take my blood pressure and pulse... these run a little high, so I was worried it would be too high and I'd have to drive home yet again. As I'm trying to calm myself down a bit a guy walks in and asks if I have a twin sister named "Jacqueline" who lives at the same address at me.
Fucking hell, I forgot I'd tried to donate through this place before. So that's why the computer wouldn't let them enter me.
But I'm not a liar, so I tell him that's my former name. My heart starts thudding and now I'm really worried, both because I think they're going to go "transsexual! No!" and because I knew my blood pressure had to be ridiculous. He walks away and the person taking my vitals says she doesn't blame me for changing my name (bless her heart, she was a calming individual). I wound up with a blood pressure of like 179/98 and a pulse near 200 but not quite there yet. So I just barely squeaked past. Also my hemoglobin was at 18.5.
(Man, I'd be so freaked out about that if I didn't know it was because of the shock of hearing my old name brought up by somebody I don't know!)
Finally I'm in the chair, everybody has calmed down and it's clear they aren't having any little round-table moments about whether or not my blood was legit like at the other place. I sat next to this woman who was donating plasma and platelets and aside from the usual discomfort associated with needles (which, let's face it, I'm used to by now) everything went fine. Until it was done. Then I misinterpreted the instructions and wound up spurting blood everywhere, resulting in a mad rush for disinfectant and bandages. But I learned my lesson and will be back in eight weeks.
