Ignored by doctors, transgender people turn to DIY treatments

While there isn’t a lot of other existing research on DIY hormone treatment, and some of it may be outdated, the available studies suggest it is fairly common and researchers may in fact be underestimating the prevalence of DIY hormone use because they miss people who avoid the medical system completely. In 2014, researchers in the U.K. found that at the time of their first gender clinic visit, 17 percent of transgender people were already taking hormones that they had bought online or from a friend. In Canada, a quarter of trans people on hormones had self-medicated, according to a 2013 study in the American Journal of Public Health. And in a survey of trans people in Washington, D.C. in 2000, 58 percent said they used non-prescribed hormones.

People cite all sorts of reasons for ordering the drugs online or acquiring them by other means. In addition to distrust of doctors and a lack of insurance or access to health care, some simply don’t want to endure long waits for medications. That’s the case for Emma, a trans woman in college in the Netherlands, where it can take two to three years to receive a physician prescription. (Emma is only using her first name to avoid online harassment, which she says she’s experienced in the past.)

As for surgery, far fewer people turn to DIY versions compared to those who try hormones. A 2012 study in the Journal of Sexual Medicine reported that only 109 cases of self-castration or self-mutilation of the genitals appear in the scientific literature, and not all are related to gender identity. “But one is too many,” Scheim says. “No one should be in a position where they feel like they need to do that.”

The individual cases reveal a practice that is dangerous and devastating. In Hangzhou, China, a 30-year-old transgender woman feared rejection from her family, so she hid her true gender, according to a 2019 Amnesty International report. She also tried to transition in secret. At first, the woman tried putting ice on her genitals to stop them from functioning. When that didn’t work, she booked an appointment with a black-market surgeon, but the doctor was arrested before her session. She attempted surgery on herself, the report says, and after losing a profuse amount of blood, hailed a taxi to the emergency room. There, she asked the doctor to tell her family she had been in an accident.

When it comes to self-surgery, the dangers of DIY transitioning are obvious. The dangers of DIY hormones are more far-ranging, from “not ideal to serious,” Scheim says. Some DIY users take a more-is-better approach, but taking too much testosterone too quickly can fry the vocal cords. Even buying hormones from an online pharmacy is risky. In 2010, more than half of all treatments from illicit websites — not only of hormones, but of any drug — were counterfeit, according to a bulletin from the World Health Organization.

Still, Charley isn’t worried about the legitimacy of the drugs he’s taking. The packaging his estrogen comes in matches what he would get from a pharmacy with a doctor’s prescription, he says. He’s also unconcerned about the side effects. “I just did a metric century” — a 100-kilometer bike ride — “in under four hours and walked away from it feeling great. I’m healthy,” he says. “So, yeah, there might be a few side effects. But I know where the local hospital is.”

Yet waiting to see if a seemingly minor side effect leads to a health emergency may mean a patient gets help too late. “I don’t want to say that the risks are incredibly high and there is a high mortality,” Metastasio says. “I am saying, though, that this is a procedure best to be monitored.” Metastasio and others recommend seeing a doctor regularly to catch any health issues that arise as quickly as possible.

But even when doctors prescribe the drugs, the risks are unclear because of a lack of research on trans health, says Scheim: “There’s so much we don’t know about hormone use.”

Researchers do know a little bit, though. Even when a doctor weighs in on the proper dosages, there is an increased risk of heart attack. Taking testosterone increases the chances of developing acne, headaches and migraines, and anger and irritability, according to the Trans Care Project, a program of the Transcend Transgender Support and Education Society and Vancouver Coastal Health’s Transgender Health Program in Canada. Testosterone also increases the risk of having abnormally high levels of red blood cells, or polycythemia, which thickens the blood and can lead to clotting. Meanwhile, studies suggest estrogen can up the risk for breast cancer, stroke, blood clots, gallstones, and a range of heart issues. And the most common testosterone-blocker, spironolactone, can cause dehydration and weaken the kidneys.

All of these risks make it especially important for trans people to have the support of a medical provider, Metastasio says. Specialists are in short supply, but general practitioners and family doctors should be able to fill the gap. After all, they already sign off on the hormone medications for cisgender people for birth control and conditions such as menopause and male pattern baldness — which come with similar side effects and warnings as when trans people use them.

Some doctors have already realized the connection. “People can increasingly get hormone therapy from their pre-existing family doctor,” Scheim says, “which is really ideal because people should be able to have a sort of continuity of health care.”

Zil Goldstein, associate medical director for transgender and gender non-binary health at the Callen-Lorde Community Health Center in New York City, would like to see more of this. Treating gender dysphoria, she says, should be just like treating a patient for any other condition. “It wouldn't be acceptable for someone to come into a primary care provider’s office with diabetes” and for the doctor to say “‘I can't actually treat you. Please leave,’” she says. Primary care providers need to see transgender care, she adds, “as a regular part of their practice.”

Another way to increase access to hormones is through informed consent, a system which received a green light from the newest WPATH guidelines. That’s how Christine received her hormones from Fenway Health before she moved from Boston to Cape Cod. Under informed consent, if someone has a blood test to assess personal health risks of treatment, they can receive a diagnosis of gender dysphoria, sign off on knowing the risks and benefits of hormone therapy, and get a prescription — all in one day.

And Jaime Lynn Gilmour, a trans woman using the full name she chose to match her gender identity, turned to informed consent after struggling to find DIY hormones. In 2017, Jaime realized she was trans while serving in the military, and says she felt she had to keep her gender a secret. When her service ended, she was ready to start taking hormones right away. So she tried to find them online, but her order wouldn’t go through on three different websites. Instead, she visited a Planned Parenthood clinic. After blood work and a few questions, she walked out with three months of estrogen and spironolactone.

But Goldstein says even informed consent doesn’t go far enough: “If I have someone who's diabetic, I don't make them sign a document eliciting their informed consent before starting insulin.”

For trans people, hormone treatments “are life-saving therapies,” Goldstein adds, “and we shouldn’t delay or stigmatize.”

For now Christine still lives with her parents in Cape Cod. She’s also still off hormones. But she found a job. After she stashes a bit more cash in the bank, she plans to move closer to Boston and find a physician.

Despite the positive shifts in her life, it’s been a difficult few months. After moving to Cape Cod, Christine lost most of her social life and support system — particularly since her parents don’t understand or accept her gender identity. Though she has reconnected with a few friends in the past several weeks, she says she’s in a tough place emotionally. In public, she typically dresses and styles herself to look more masculine to avoid rude stares, and she is experiencing self-hatred that she fears won’t go away when she restarts treatment. Transitioning again isn’t going to be easy, as she explained to Undark in a private message on Facebook: “I've been beaten down enough that now I don't wanna get back up most of the time.”

Even worse is the fear that she might not be able to restart treatment at all. Earlier this year, Christine suffered two health emergencies within the span of a week, in which she says her blood pressure spiked, potentially causing organ damage. Christine has had one similar episode in the past and her family has a history of heart issues.

Christine may not be able to get back on estrogen despite the hard work she’s done to be able to afford it, she says, since it can increase the risk of heart attack and stroke. Because she has so far resisted trying DIY treatments again, she may have saved herself from additional health problems.

But Christine doesn’t see it that way. “Even if it was unsafe, even if I risked health concerns making myself a guinea pig, I wish I followed through,” she wrote. “Being off hormones is hell. And now that I face potentially never taking them again, I wish I had.”

Tara Santora is a science journalist based out of Denver. They have written for Psychology Today, Live Science, Fatherly, Audubon, and more.

This article was originally published on Undark. Read the original article.