Jude Doyle's Top Surgery Fund

I went on testosterone on August 14, 2020. It's the best decision I've ever made. However, as I reach the two-year mark, I know that it's not enough. I need top surgery, and I don't think I can get there without some help.

I have a job, and a loving family, which makes me extremely fortunate. I also, technically, have insurance, but it’s the bare minimum, and it doesn’t cover much — I can go to urgent care, I can get testosterone prescribed at Planned Parenthood, but the vast majority of my health needs are paid for out of pocket.

The gender therapist I’ve been seeing to get a letter for top surgery — that’s $120 a week. The psychiatrist I see to get the Prozac I’ve turned out to need as my hormone cycle stabilizes — that’s $375 per monthly visit. Altogether, my health expenses total around $855 per month, which, when you factor in rent and groceries, is pretty much my entire income.

Again, I have a family, but on my spouse’s side of things, his whole income — and some of my parents’ — goes to paying for our kid’s pre-school. Part of the contract you make as a parent is that your kid’s needs will always take precedence, but this does mean that, though top surgery feels to me like a very urgent need, it goes in the “wants” category. I can only do it if I don’t deprive anyone else.

I’ve looked into surgeons. The only one in my area is someone who has a reputation for fucking up patients and leaving them with chronic pain or avoidable complications. This is likely to be the only major surgery I will need in my transition. I want to do it with someone I trust. There’s a very good surgeon in Cleveland, not too far from my parents. I could go, I could spend the next few weeks recuperating in their guest room, and I know I would be happy with the results.

Look: The second I put on a real binder for the first time, I knew I was going to have trouble ever taking it off. When I think about a successful transition, about what I need, what I imagine is being able to take off my own shirt and look down without averting my gaze. I want to be whole and alive in my own body. I want to experience that moment of knowing I’m a guy. I want to exist in my own skin without dissonance, put on a t-shirt, walk out the door, all in one piece, an entire person. I want that some time before my fortieth birthday.

I can get that if I go to Cleveland. It would be paid for out of pocket — like everything has been — but I would be whole.

I do not want to be spoiled. I do not want to ask for anything that isn’t mine, or that I don’t deserve. The total cost for this is around $10,000, including travel and lodging; I can cover $5,000 on my own. However, I could use some help covering the rest. If you feel any inclination to help, if I’ve managed to be of service to you or to the community in some way, if you feel I have earned the right to ask for this, and if you have any cash to spare, I would deeply appreciate anything you gave.

I will work harder and better if I am healthy, and I will work for trans people. I promise that much. I will be in your debt, and I know it. I will do all I can to ensure my debt is repaid.