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Edited by S.L.Hawke
Image Copyright © 2012 Tracey Willows

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The Taylor Project
 
Chapter Sixty-Four

I tuned out for a bit as Doc Buford started to go back over the same old ground again with Dad and Julie. It all sounded familiar, but all in all I couldn’t help but feel good about what I’d heard. I didn’t need to push for HRT. All I had to do was avoid testosterone. I did need to ask for an excuse out of gym class, but the adults were talking to each other and I didn’t want to interrupt. However, after talking about ultrasounds and biopsies Doc Buford mentioned lowering my allergy medicine dosage.

“I’ll be issuing a new prescription today to start the process of weaning Scott off Prednisone, but he needs to continue under supervision of an endocrinologist. Now, he’s taking twenty milligrams every other day. I’m going to lower that to fifteen milligrams every other day. I also want another blood test run to get a good measure of his cortisol levels. Taylor, when do you take your pills – in the morning, or in the evening?”

Say what? “Both. I take one pill in the morning and one in the evening.”

Doc Buford froze up and made a little cluck sound with his tongue. “Run that by me again, you’re taking pills twice a day?”

“Yes.” Why was this surprising? Doc Buford was acting funny.

“And that’s what’s printed on the bottle? Or perhaps I should say bottles – when did you last get a refill?”

“Yeah, that’s what’s been printed on both of the bottles, and it was refilled a month ago.”

“Is something wrong?” asked Dad.

“That’s not the prescription that your allergist sent us. Taylor is supposed to be taking one pill every other day. That’s recommended for Prednisone. If he is actually taking Prednisone, then he is taking well above the prescribed dosage.” He turned to me. “Do you know if the label on your bottle actually says Prednisone?”

“Yes, it says Prednisone tablets, twenty milligrams, and take one tablet twice daily."

Doc Buford took a deep breath and let it out. “Then you’re taking four times the intended dosage.”

My father looked alarmed. “Is that dangerous?”

“Not necessarily. It is still within recommended safe dosage limits, but that high a dosage regimen is much harder on the adrenals. This medication is typically given every other day, especially in juveniles. It does not necessarily mean that Prednisone is the cause of Scotty’s condition, but it just became a whole lot more likely.”

My dad looked furious. “I want him off that shit now! Who is responsible for this?”

“Now Robert.” Doc Buford was doing his country doctor act again. “As I just told you, we can not take him off it abruptly. That is even more true if what he says about his dosage is correct. Taking him off suddenly might kill him. As to who is responsible, I can’t tell you that. You need to check the bottle. Maybe your son read it wrong. Maybe the pharmacy issued it wrong. Maybe your allergist wrote it wrong. There are too many unknowns at this point for me to even venture a guess – you need to do some investigating first.” He paused for a brief moment staring off into space, before looking back and continuing. "When you go in to see the endocrinologist next week, make sure you take the bottle of medication with you as well as any other medications you are taking. He will want to confirm that what is in the bottle is actually what is on the label, although I believe it probably is Prednisone from the effects it has had on Scott... umm, Taylor."

“But he’s taking far too much of a powerful drug?”

Doc Buford hesitated and then nodded. “That would be my opinion, although I am not a specialist in allergies. Standard protocol for administering Prednisone for juveniles is to start at a low dosage and work up to the minimal dosage needed to be effective. It should also be administered every other day, to minimize impact on the adrenals. I can only more strongly repeat my earlier recommendation that you take him to an endocrinologist and get this sorted out.”

“How dangerous is this?” demanded my father. “Should we be taking Taylor to a hospital?”

Doc Buford hesitated again before responding. “It is serious, but not critical. I’ve reviewed his blood work and general health. Other than going through female puberty, he is healthy. In fact he is healthier than I’ve ever seen him before. His dosage may be set too high, but the Prednisone has clearly helped his asthma. In my professional opinion, his treatment does not require hospitalization at this time.”

“I still want to know whose fault this was.” My father sounded only slightly less angry than before. “If he is being overdosed, is this malpractice?”

Doc Buford shook his head. “I would not necessarily characterize it as malpractice. I would have prescribed a lower dosage of Prednisone if I had used it at all, but it is still within recommended dosing guidelines even for children of Taylor’s age. Even if that wasn’t the case, do you think you can win a lawsuit while Taylor is eager to announce that he wants to be a girl? Exactly what damage has been done?”

My father frowned. “Growing breasts isn’t a minor side effect! You’re saying the overdose of this stuff is changing his body. Worse, his mind! You said it is the damn estrogen on his brain making him want to be a girl. This is my son’s life we’re talking about not some minor oopsie.”

Apparently Dad’s mind wasn’t all that open. I was also surprised at the malpractice talk. Dad usually had a low opinion of lawyers as well as people who scream for a lawyer. In a way this was out of character for him to be screaming malpractice. While he was defending me, in his way, I didn’t like the way things were going.

Doc Buford held up a hand defensively. “Slow down, Robert. I understand your frustration, but I’m not your enemy. You are welcome to consult a lawyer and pursue it in a court of law, but please take careful note that I never said that the Prednisone is causing this. The dosage may be higher than intended, but is still within recommended limits. Even if the Prednisone is contributing, that still doesn’t fully explain what is going on with your son. Taylor’s estrogen levels are very high. If Prednisone were solely responsible, I’d expect Taylor’s estradiol numbers to be much lower. It still doesn’t all add up. As for the estrogen influencing your son’s belief regarding his gender, your wife is correct. That is an assement a therapist should make.”

Dad grumbled. “If this was someone’s screwup, then they should pay, damn it.”

Julie reached over and took my Dad’s hand. “Rob, let’s wait until we know what happened before we worry about that sort of thing."

My father nodded reluctantly and settled down.

Doc Buford cautiously picked back up the earlier thread of the conversation. “I still want to lower the dosage. We can start that today. I’ll issue a second prescription for fifteen milligrams. I want Taylor to go down to thirty-five milligrams a day. He can take his normal prescription in the morning and the fifteen milligram dosage in the evening. They don't make a fifteen milligram tablet, unfortunately, but I can prescribe three of the smaller five milligram tablets easily enough. I’ll write it up for you.”

“Plus the ultrasound and the biopsy. What about the blood work?” asked Julie. “Are you still going to want another round of tests?”

Doc Buford shook his head. “I don’t see any point. If the endocrinologist wants additional tests, he can order them.”

They went back and forth again. All in all I was pretty happy. My allergy medicine was being reduced, which might be the source of my estrogen, but going from forty down to thirty-five didn’t sound like a big reduction. In fact, because of the whole addiction thing they literally couldn’t take me off my medication even if it was causing my high estrogen levels. So I didn’t have much to fuss about.

Eventually Doc Buford was tired of hearing himself talk. “So, any questions?”

“I have one.” I’d gotten sidetracked, but there was one important thing I hadn’t asked yet. “Doc, can I get an excuse from PE? Please?”

He fumbled with his papers. “I’ll be glad to write you a note diagnosing you with Klinefelter’s Syndrome, but there is no medical reason you can’t do any physical activity. Now there may be a psychological reason relating to body image, but that would be a note for a therapist to write, and not me.”

“You had to think about whether I needed to be hospitalized, but I’m not that sick? You don’t think having breasts in a boy’s locker room is a good reason?”

Doc Buford looked over his glasses at me. “The school may very well consider that a valid excuse. I’ll make sure my note says that you have KS with gynecomastia. However, there is no medical reason you cannot participate in physical activity. It will be up to the school or a therapist to determine if that should excuse you from PE.”

Dad gave me the look again. “Taylor, exercise is good for you.”

“I get more exercise outside of school than I do in PE.” Maybe I should have told him about my exercise plan.

“We’ll talk about this at home.” Dad told me before turning back to Doc Buford and asking more stuff that he’d know already if he’d been paying attention.

Chapter Sixty-Five

Dad rushed off to work right after the meeting was done and left me in Julie’s hands. Somewhere I had missed that she was taking the whole day off, so she could take care of other details, such as changing her name and address on her driver’s license. She took me to Sonic, Pine Hill’s one and only choice for fast food; we don’t even rate a Dairy Queen. Being alone with Julie felt a bit awkward. Although she’d supervised Hailey and me in the kitchen and generally been around, I think this was the first one-on-one time I’d had with her.

Julie pulled into the retro 50’s drive-in and parked. After we’d placed our orders, my need-to-know outweighed the awkwardness. “Why wasn’t I told about the appointment with Dr. Yeatts on Tuesday, or the one with an endocrinologist on Thursday?”

Julie glanced at me. “Your father and I agreed to talk to Doctor Buford first. If he didn’t think you needed to see specialists, then we would have cancelled the appointment.”

“That didn’t really answer my question. Both of you already knew Doc Buford had recommended both an endocrinologist and a therapist. Why keep me in the dark?” I thought I could trust Dad and Julie, but what were they hiding? If there was a hidden agenda, it was probably about how to force me onto testosterone.

“Your father and I are still playing catch up with you.” Julie gave me a longer, more thoughtful look. “This isn’t covered in basic parenting. We’re having to feel our way as we go. So we made some plans, but we had them on hold until we talked to Doc Buford. Maybe it wasn’t the best way to go about things, but it was what we decided. Also, your father and I aren’t going to consult you about every decision we make.”

“These particular decisions are kinda important to me!”

“I know, Taylor, I know.” Julie sighed. “So… you want to get out of PE?”

I blinked at the change of topic. “Duh, I’m a girl. I don’t belong in a boy’s locker room. Every day I’m running the risk of getting caught. I think that would be about the worst place to get caught. I could easily get beat up before an adult intervened.” If Coach Teller even intervened. He might just cheer them on.

Before Julie could respond, a carhop skated up with our food and our conversation got put on hold. We’d both ordered chicken. She had a chicken sandwich and I had a grilled chicken wrap. I was no longer trying to lose fat in my breasts, but now that I was trying to be a girl I had more reasons to watch my diet. It amused me that I was eating healthier than Julie. I thought Julie was kinda of a health nut, but she had ordered cheddar fries with her meal.

Then she surprised me by placing the cheddar fries between us. “Help yourself.” She pulled one off and started eating.

Was sharing food a female thing? We didn’t eat out all that often, but when we did Dad and Rick didn’t share. Dave was all too glad to finish my meals, but neither he nor Lloyd shared. Grandma loved to cook and was always pushing food at us. Regardless of whether it was female or not, it would be rude not to accept. So I pulled myself a sticky mess of cheddar fry goodness. “Thank you.”

“So… the PE thing. We have a note from Doc Buford diagnosing you as Klinefelter's with gynecomastia. It doesn’t say anything about you being transgendered, but I can go in and have a talk with the principal, try to get you excused from PE.”

“Would that work? Doc Buford said I was healthy enough to attend PE.” I picked out some more cheesy fries. That was the polite thing to do. I may be new to the girl thing, but I’d had years of being around Grandma.

“I think I can change their minds. Look at it this way: If we ask them to take you out and they refuse, then if anything happens it is on them, right? I bet they’re more interested in covering their butts than forcing you to take PE. Besides, we’ll be doing a complete psych eval thing on you for the XXY. This way, when you get your therapy sessions nobody has to know it is about being transgendered until you’re ready to tell them.”

Put that way it was quite clever. Hey, where had all the fries gone? I got out my chicken wrap and rolled back the paper. “Thanks Julie, if you can get me out of gym that would make school a lot more bearable.” I took a bite of my grilled chicken wrap thing and it was pretty tasty, too. Much better than cafeteria food.

“You’re welcome.” She flashed me a smile.

“And thanks for talking Dad into Doctor Yeatts. Hailey liked her.” I was just glad to have a neutral third party. “And thanks for getting my dad to agree to therapy.”

“I didn’t do much. Mostly I’ve acted as a sounding board and let your father talk things through. I think he would have agreed eventually. It might just have taken longer.”

I ate a bit of my food and washed it down with my diet cherry limeade. “Do you know what my dad has against therapists?”

I had to wait for an answer while Julie chewed her chicken melt. She seemed to take an awful long time. “I know part of it. He and your mother went to therapy before they divorced. He feels the therapist they saw basically encouraged her to leave.”

“Oh.” That made a certain kind of sense. My mind flashed back to what Dad had thundered at me when I told him I was a girl. He’d yelled that being a man meant facing up to your problems, not running away. “He thinks I’m just like her, doesn’t he? Just running away from things instead of sticking?”

“No sweetie, he doesn’t think that at all. It’s just hard for him. He’s been raised that you don’t question some things. I think he’d have just about as much trouble if you’d merely been gay. Give him time. He really loves you. He is already coming around.”

He was? I thought of what he’d said in Doc Buford’s office. It hadn’t sounded like coming around to me. I ate my food quietly.

Julie broke the silence. “Hey Taylor, there is something else your Dad and I planned that we had on hold. I think you’ll like this one. You’ve basically got just a few outfits that you’ve borrowed from Hailey, don’t you?”

I nodded agreement. “A few tops, a skirt and her navy jumper dress is pretty much all that fits me. Plus assorted bras, panties and a nightgown.”

“A girl should have her own clothes. Not to mention that you’re also sharing makeup which is unhygienic. What do you say we go shopping this weekend? We’ll drive in to Dallas where you won’t be recognized.”

“Oh my God! Yes, please!” Was she kidding? Shopping in Dallas for real clothes! Something that wasn’t borrowed and really fit me. Shoes. I might have real girl shoes that fit me. More than just a skirt, and more than that: she was approving of me. I felt the tears starting again and grabbed a napkin.

“Sweetie?” Julie leaned forward and touched me. “Are you, okay?”

“Yes, these are happy tears. I didn’t think you really approved. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me so quickly. I have to be honest. I’m not really sure I do approve.” She held up her hand as I started to talk and then laid it on my arm. “Wait. Please hear me out. I’ve been watching you, trying to see what Hailey sees in you. She’s right and you’re right. You don’t really act like a boy, but you don’t act entirely like a girl either. I think you really may be transgendered, but I’m not sure and I’m still worried. Not because I disapprove of you being transgendered. I’ve learned enough in the past few days to know that’s like being gay – it’s not really a choice thing. If you are really a girl at heart, I’ll support that. However, you’re awfully young to be making this kind of decision. Most teen marriages end in divorce, and you’re setting on a path that is even more permanent than marriage when you’re only thirteen. Your father and I have done some research. The kind of decision your making is normally only made after years of therapy.”

She sighed. “It’s really a tangled mess, trying to do the right thing. I want to do the right thing for you, Taylor, really I do. I believe you should be allowed to explore this possibility. That includes going to a therapist and dressing as a girl in a safe environment. But I also think this is a hard decision and that you’re rushing into it too headlong. Not to mention that I’m scared for you. Violence against gays is bad enough. Transsexuals have it worse, and we live in the deep red neck of Texas. We’re in no position financially to home school you or relocate. If you transition, you’ll transition here in Pine Hill... and that won’t be easy. I’m on your side, Taylor. I’m just worried.”

I started to be upset with her, but I couldn’t be by the time she was done talking. She was being honest and was slowly coming around to my side. Plus she was going to buy me clothes. “Alright then. I hope that in time I convince you. So… who all is going and does Dad know?” What if Dad vetoed it?

“Your father knows about the clothes. We talked about it. He approves less than I do, but he is trying to be fair to you. I pointed out that you can’t keep borrowing Hailey’s clothes. He agreed that you needed your own clothes and couldn’t wear the same clothes every day. He certainly won’t be coming shopping with us. Like most men, the very idea of a day spent shopping for clothes makes him twitchy. Shopping for girl’s clothes – for his son – is more than he can take at this point. We’ll make it a girl’s day out, me, you and Hailey. Saturday we’ll be busy moving furniture, so it will have to be Sunday. If you like, we could meet up with your Aunt Dee Dee. She lives in Dallas, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, she does and I’d love to have her along!” This was such a turnabout. Not too long ago, the thought of spending all day shopping for clothes would have made me twitchy, too. However, right now I didn’t care about the shopping part. I wanted the clothes. Not borrowed clothes that didn’t fit right. My own clothes! And with Dad’s permission if not acceptance. That was the biggest turnaround of all. Having Aunt Dee Dee along would just be a really nice bonus. Not to mention that somewhere in there Julie had included me as ‘one of the girls’. Then a thought struck me. “But not Grandma, right?”

Julie laughed. “I think your grandmother is having enough trouble accepting things as it is. I don’t think she would be able to take a day of shopping for girl clothes for a child she still views as her grandson. However, seeing you in those clothes might be very good for her. It helped me see that there was a lot of girl in you. Now that I know what to look for, I can see that girl even now. She’s not buried very deep.”

“Really?” It sounded like Julie had almost accepted me, but was holding back. Was it really because of the reasons she gave me? Or was she holding back until my Dad accepted? Either way, she was certainly an ally now and not an enemy.

“Yes sweetie, really.” She folded up her trash. “Now as much as I would love to spend more time with my new daughter, we need to get you to school and I have a lot of things to take care of. So, let’s go.”

She might as well have been driving a chariot pulled by winged horses rather than driving an old sedan, because I felt like I was floating on air. She’d called me her daughter.

Chapter Sixty-Six

When we arrived at Pine Hill Middle School, we went straight to the office. Julie badgered the office ladies for a bit and got us both in to see Principal Oak. I wasn’t real happy to be seeing him again, actually, since the last two times I’d seen him I’d ended up in detention. Principal Oak honestly scared me. He was a huge man who had once been a coach and athlete but had turned soft. Now he was fat, but underneath that fat was still a lot of muscle. He reminded me of a sumo wrestler. My eyes wandered to the paddle mounted on his wall labeled 'Board of Education'.

Julie seated herself after introductions. “Thank you so much for making some time to meet with me. I wanted to talk about Taylor.”

Principal Oak frowned. “And who is Taylor?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot. Scott goes by Taylor at home. It’s his middle name.”

Principal Oak nodded. “I can make a note of that in his file. I think it is good that you came in. We’ve had several incidents with him over the past few weeks. He’s been disrespectful to his teachers and used foul language in the classroom.”

That wasn’t the way I remembered the ‘incidents’ happening. Kevin had been the instigator of both of them. He’d just been clever. No scratch that. I’d just been stupid.

“I’m aware of the incidents, but that’s not why I wanted to speak with you. We just got back from the doctor. Taylor has been diagnosed with Klinefelter’s syndrome with associated gynecomastia.” She removed the note from Doc Buford from her purse and slid it toward Principal Oak. “Taylor didn’t know what was happening and has been hiding his breast growth. He is very self-conscious about his condition.”

Oak took the note and read it through. “I’m familiar with gynecomastia. I’ve encountered it before. I’m not as familiar with Klinefelter’s Syndrome, but I’ve heard of XXY. Will Scott require any special accommodations?”

Julie smiled. “Yes, he will. Klinefelter’s Syndrome is often associated with learning disabilities. We’re having him tested for those. If he has any learning disabilities, then we’ll talk about what accommodations are needed for them. We’d also like to have him removed from PE. Taylor has B-cup breasts. It’s amazing to me that he’s managed to keep them hidden for this long, but he’s very much afraid of what will happen if he is discovered in gym class. I think you would agree that a boy with breasts would disrupt the class.”

“Perhaps, but physical education is state mandated. Let me take a look at this.” He waved the doctor’s note and then read it. “Hmm, it is just a diagnosis. This doesn’t give me a basis to remove Scott from PE. Does his condition make him physically unable to participate?”

“It’s not his physical condition. It’s about him being teased and picked on. You know that is likely to happen. Can you guarantee his safety?”

“We have a zero tolerance policy for bullying.” He said it with a rumble and a straight face, yet I wanted to laugh. Sure they did.

Julie paused. “Let me put it this way. If you won’t remove him from PE, I want to put a written statement in his student records. My statement is going to read that I am concerned for his safety and well-being and that I’ve asked you to remove him from PE due to his gynecomastia.”

I studied Oak as Julie played her card. He didn’t look upset, but he did look thoughtful. He folded his massive hands together and leaned back. “Very well, Mrs. Miller, I see your point. I’ll have Scott removed from PE effective immediately and transferred to study hall. Will that be satisfactory?”

“Very much, thank you.”

“Good, that’s settled. Now while you are here, perhaps we could discuss his behavior. While I appreciate that he has a medical condition, that does not excuse how he has been acting at school…”

Oak continued on in that vein for quite a while. Julie nodded along. I kept my mouth shut. Julie may have ‘won’ by getting me out of PE, but apparently Oak didn’t like being pushed and now he was pushing back at me. I got the message loud and clear. If I put a toe out of line, he’d throw the book at me.

“… Furthermore, any future violations of our code of conduct will be dealt with by our policy. Since Scott has already had two detentions, that will mean ISS–in school suspension.

Julie frowned. “Principal Oak, that seems a bit harsh when the previous offenses are only use of profanity.”

“It wasn’t only the use of profanity. It was his disrespect for the authority of the teacher.”

“Since Taylor has only had issues with that one teacher, perhaps it is more of a personality conflict. Maybe a transfer to another English class would be more appropriate.”

I was a little surprised Julie knew the details of why I’d been sent to detention. I’d never told her and I didn’t think Dad cared that much. At the mention of getting out of Gerstacker’s class I held my breath and crossed my fingers. Please, please, please.

Oak slammed the door on that hard. “We don’t allow schedule changes in the middle of the term.”

“Your rules don’t seem to allow a lot of flexibility.”

“We’ve found that children respond better to firm policies.”

“I see. I think this would be a good time for me to point out that Taylor’s condition is a private matter and covered by patient confidentiality. I hope those firm policies will also protect Taylor’s privacy.”

The ghost of a frown crossed Oak’s face and was gone to be replaced by a poker face. “Of course, we always follow patient confidentiality. I’ll have a copy made of this to be placed in Scott’s file and the original will go into his medical records kept with our school nurse.” He rose. “It was good talking with you, Mrs. Miller.”

That sounded like a dismissal, and despite the threat of future punishment I’d gotten what I wanted. I was out of PE. I’d have given Julie a hug if we hadn’t still been in Oak’s office. As we walked away I leaned into Julie so I could whisper to her. “That was awesome! Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, Taylor.”

Ah screw it. I hugged her anyway. Only the office ladies could see us. “Thanks… Mom.” I almost felt like crying, but she’d deserved it. I’d asked my real mother for help and she’d laughed at me and said no way. Julie didn’t even entirely believe I was transgendered, but she had still gone to bat for me in so many ways. So what if she just married Dad last week? She was acting more like my mother than my birth mother ever had.

 

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To Be Continued...