Evil doctors

Well, we’re in it now. After about five years of a trans identification, my very smart, loving, adorable, autistic child has now started taking estrogen.

His doctor is an endocrinologist at Toronto Western, the head of a well-known clinic. I would be happy to publicize her name. She is known for being very free with the prescriptions.

My child graciously “allowed” me to accompany him to this appointment, with the intention of easing my worries. Instead, my worst fears were confirmed.

The doctor and her intern asked questions about my child’s “journey,” after enthusiastically praising his pronouns. He tried to explain that he doesn’t really care about pronouns and doesn’t like labels, but they continued along a set script. Each question—”How did you come to wanting hormones?”—was answered in ways that, to me, raised significant concerns. I found myself thinking there was no way a prescription would follow.

“My friends were trans, so I thought I might be too.”

“I looked online and wondered if I could be trans.”

They referred to notes in his chart: “DSD.”

“Yes, I thought that might apply because some friends identified that way, but now I’m not sure.”

“Have you ever changed your gender identity?”

“Yes.”

None of this appeared to matter. The doctor stated that she did not see it as her role to determine whether someone was a suitable candidate for hormone therapy. Rather, she saw her role as providing hormones to pretty much anyone who comes to her. She also described a wide range of patients—some identifying as non-binary, some adjusting doses based on how masculine or feminine they felt at a given time. Basically admitting that playing around with hormones is okay with her.

I had one question: what are the cognitive and mental effects of taking estrogen? I did not frame this as “negative” side effects. Even so, my question was met with a response that did not address the medical aspects I was asking about. Instead, I was given a broad explanation focused on social challenges faced by trans individuals—barriers in sports participation, stigma, and higher rates of housing instability. I did not receive a clear medical answer about the effects of the medication itself.

I attempted to clarify that those particular social challenges did not apply to my child, who lives at home and is supported. I was unable to redirect the conversation. The response became more animated and generalized, including claims about research in this area being biased or funded by a single source. She even tried to tell me that conditions for trans people in Canada were terrible, and here we were sitting in her office, about to get a prescription for a dangerous medication with no vetting whatsoever. Again, my original medical question remained unanswered.

What struck me most was the contrast with other areas of medicine. Recently, I sought treatment for a skin condition. My family doctor declined to prescribe medication without confirmation. I saw multiple doctors, waited months for a specialist, and ultimately required a biopsy before receiving treatment—after nearly a year of persistence.

In contrast, despite a lengthy wait to see this specialist, my child received a prescription for estrogen after a single appointment.

As a parent, I left that experience deeply unsettled. I am sharing this as a definitive indictment of the medical establishment, especially in Canada (at least in Ontario). I have dreaded the issue coming to this, and now, here we are. I can only hope my child survives this, or better, comes out of it. And seeing this arrogant little doctor prosecuted wouldn’t hurt.