I couldn't let the chance pass to represent my first time filling my T prescription.
I was still living in the Chicago suburbs at the time, and went to the city for my healthcare since I could get treatment following the informed consent model--because like hell was I jumping through the kinds of hoops I'd seen others have to follow if I could help it. It wasn't without its issues, of course. The drive to the clinic was usually about 2-3 hours with traffic, about 1 without. Sucks, but do-able. I was still working for my parents then, and needed to hide my transition from them as much as I could.
So when my dad required me to do a thing, I did it.
Which is how I ended up scheduled to go to a basketball game the night I got my testosterone prescription. The prescription appointment itself was super easy. Get in, let them know what I wanted, let them know I knew what I was getting into, give some blood to use to keep track of my hormone levels an all, and head across the street to the pharmacy.
That was where things got...obnoxious. I got in line, got through line, gave my name, was asked to sit down, and wait. And wait. And wait.
After an hour, I went up to the counter, sure I must've missed them call my name. They didn't have record I'd checked in. I checked in again.
After about two hours, I needed to leave so I could meet with my dad to go to the game. And no excuse I could give would have been good enough to get out of it. I went up to the counter to check on progress. The pharmacy worker I talked to was stressed, and told me they'd call when my prescription was ready for pickup. And that, fortunately, they were a 24-hour pharmacy, so I could do pickup any time.
I left. And got the automated call my prescription was ready about 30 minutes later.
At that point, I started to get mad. Here I was, in an amazing situation, about to get a medicine that would do nothing but help me...and because of my fucking asshole conservative dad who wanted people like me to die, I was driving away from my meds, away from freedom, to go play happy family with someone who'd made it very, very clear he didn't want anything to do with the real me, and would physically enforce his preference if he felt slighted.
I went to the basketball game. But I don't think I hid how much I was seething the whole time. We passed the pharmacy my testosterone was waiting for me at on the way home.
When we parted ways, I got a call from a good friend over the phone to celebrate my prescription, and vented to him about the absurd situation. I was so, so damn excited, and so, so pissed that my so-called "family" were the entire block between me and treatment. That a night that should've been about celebrating was instead spent seething. I'd known for years how much I needed to get away from my shitty, abusive family, but this clarified the point. (Again, for the billionth time. Cuz though I worked at it like fire, I didn't escape until a few years later, and only with a looooooot of help).
My friend was so kind, he listened, and he helped. He was so happy for me, and so ready to listen to my anger. And he asked me a super reasonable question. I was planning on not going out to the pharmacy that night because it was nearly midnight, and I'd had work the next day. And he, very reasonably, asked me if I'd be able to sleep if I just went home. And I wouldn't. So I turned around, and headed back into the city, down the same roads even, for the third time that night!
