Days 10 & 11: Two Healthy People

Medical science can find no cause for my problem. I am a healthy person. My resting heart rate is 68 beats per minute. My blood pressure is 109 over 50. I stand 5'10 1/2". My weight has been constant at around 195 lbs. (192 lbs. this morning) for the last year and a half. I drink maybe once a week, but am not the kind of person who pops a can of beer after a long day at the office. I ran a half marathon in January in two hours, eleven minutes, and two seconds. There was a time in my life when I was in better shape than I am now, but not by much.

$2500 in testing proved that there was nothing wrong inside me. My Y-chromosome was examined closely and no microdeletions were found that could explain anything. My hormone levels are all within range. My hair and nails grow quickly. My metabolism runs a little bit slowly, perhaps.

There's nothing wrong with my genetics, either. I'm the eldest of four kids. My dad says that he could practically look at my mother and they'd get pregnant. His brother has two daughters. My mother is the eldest of three. My maternal grandmother had problems conceiving, but she said that the doctor opened up her fallopian tubes and she was pregnant the next month.

When my blood work returned, I looked at the results. The only questionable number was my testosterone level. It was on the low end, but it was well within the normal spectrum. A couple years ago, This American Life spent an hour examining the role of testosterone in people's lives. There was the story of a man whose body mysteriously stopped producing the hormone altogether. He sat in his bed all day, staring blankly at the wall. He ate because he knew he ought to, not because he had an appetite. He didn't want to do anything. Another story featured a person transitioning from female to male. When she began giving herself massive testosterone injections, her outlook changed. She'd see a woman on the street and images of her would come unbidden to her mind, flashing moments of unspeakable sexuality. She would find herself following women for blocks in New York City, transfixed by her form.

I do desire--I have an appetite. By nature I am a competitive person to the point that I'm frequently obnoxious to those who don't know me well. But I don't have the sex drive of some of my friends. One of my close friends broke up with his partner because she wasn't able to couple with him every day. That's not me. I'm usually satisfied making love two or three times a week.

Leah says that I look at my body more than anyone she knows. I think she takes this as vanity, but I'm really trying to study it. I look at my frame and wonder if I can find an explanation there. I'm stocky--I carry weight in my thighs as well as my abdomen. When I see myself in the mirror, I feel rectangular, not the V-shape that the books say is the ideal male form. When I was the closest to the BMI "ideal" weight for my height, people worried after my health. My frame is built to support.

I wasn't always this way. I was overweight in my teenage years and into my early 20s. At my heaviest, I was nearly 240 lbs. I was wearing size 42 pants before I decided that I needed to turn my life around in a serious way. I sometimes blame this time of my life for my problems, the times when I was careless with my body. I would drink four or five sodas a day, make chicken fried steak for dinner once a week. I know that excess abdominal fat produces estrogen in the male body. My voice on tape always sounds high and nasal.

I am working to improve my body. My dad was a runner when I was growing up. He ran several 10K races during the short Arizona running season. I run some, but I've been working to put on muscle and tone the body that I have. I feel sturdier at this weight than I have in a long time.

There's nothing wrong with Leah. She had her blood work and ultrasound today. The doctor said that she had "beautiful ovaries." She had 12 follicles on the right ovary, 10 on the left. The lead follicle (as they call it) was over 20 millimeters. The doctor said that Leah was doing great. Leah thinks that her ovaries look alien on the ultrasound screen.

We will be going back for ultrasounds on Saturday and Sunday. The doctor thinks we'll be able to give the trigger shot on Sunday, and hope for the egg extraction on Monday or Tuesday.

While Leah's insides are doing great, her outsides are showing signs of wear. The constant injections have produced bruises on her abdomen and thighs, although I try to be gentle. The Ganerelix gives her an itchy rash when injected in her thigh and stings deeply when injected in her abdomen. But she's faced all of this without complaint. I am proud of her.