With Those Who Know Secret Things (Griff)

When Griffin Jones had received a call about a transgendered gentleman who was currently on hormone treatment and needed a transfer to a doctor surgery in Pilot Ridge, he knew he would have to handle it with the utmost delicacy. There was to be no muddling of pronouns, and Mr. Kenney was, for all intents and purposes, a male. He had sorted the file and gone through all the paperwork with a cup of coffee and taken in every detail.

First of all, he needed to find a local therapist to continue walking Hart through his testosterone and any further emotions that may arise. Second of all, he needed to keep things as private as possible (not that he would blab, more that he didn't want the receptionist chitterchattering, or the pharmacist giving any trouble). He also needed to do the normal tests for comfortable body change and general health, but he was sure Mr. Kenney knew this already.

He called through to reception after tidying up after the last patient - a gentleman with an alarmingly large boil - and sat in his chair. This would be one of the rare occasions he could put some of his less used training to practice. The last person who had gender problems had been a very lovely set of Gestalts in Kocher, who were insistant they were women, despite being men. Though - they'd been much younger and there had been complications with parents.

He glanced up out of his thoughts when his patient walked in, and he gestured to one of the chairs. "Please, Mr. Kenney, take a seat." His smile was warm and genuine - and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Now, what seems to be the problem?"

"Ah yes, alright." Griff said warmly, glancing back to the notes on the computer and quickly typing up a short line on the date of a new prescription. He thought he'd ask about health anyway, since the man was already here - no point in just ploughing in with no sense. Turning in his chair to better face Hart, he rested his hands on his lap.

He blinked in surprise when he was told he was supposed to be good with this sort of thing, and pushed a hand through his hair. "Really? I don't think anyone who doesn't have the same problem is good with it, but I do understand and I want you to be as comfortable in your body as anyone else." A smile was offered then, and he nodded briefly. "I've had experience with GID, however, so you aren't my first patient."

He braced the chair with his hands and leant forward to give Hart a clear eye, then nodded once more. "Alright Mr. Kenney, I'll fill it out as soon as I've done the routine checks to make sure the drug is being kind to you." Griff pulled out the blood pressure testing machine from the back of his desk. "Any unusual symptoms? Pain in the lower abdomen, or muscle fatigue?" He listed them off as he gestured for Hart to roll up his sleeve. "I'll just test your blood pressure and heart rate, then I'll get this printed off."

Sliding the armband over Hart's bared arm, he pressed the button and hummed to himself as it did it's job, typing up a few more little bits on Hart's file. Noting down the blood pressure - it was normal - he flashed a big honest smile over. "Now, would you like me to find you a new therapist in the nearest city to talk to once a month about any changes or problems? I'd be happy to cross that bridge for you." He stood and pressed the cold metal of the stethoscope onto Hart's back, pausing to glance at his watch.

"A healthy heart rate too, Mr. Kenney, I'm sure you're pleased to hear that." He quickly typed that up on the computer too, then pressed his fingers together to look expectantly at Hart.

Hm? He was known for being good in the LGBT department? Already? Looked as though his reputation went before him. That caused Griff to grin awkwardly, and he moved a few bits and bobs, just to make sure the file was entirely up to date. "Any doctor who judges someone for any condition shouldn't be a doctor, though..." He trailed off and looked a little concerned. "I do struggle to sympathise with those who get drunk repeatedly and clog up emergency rooms."

"Well, you do seem in the peak of fitness." He said warmly, popping up the prescription screen. "Do you have an old physicians note, to confirm the prescription?" He began typing eagerly up on the screen, then looked over. "And how has the drug helped, if you don't mind my asking?" He broached the topic gently, pausing in the rhythmic tapping of keys.

When asked about therapists, Griff opened a cabinet, flicking through quickly and looking up the particular section and flicking through pamphlets. "Hmm, yes, I think the best people are in Burlington, though this particular therapist also does monthly visits to the local hospital." Pulling the paper out, he rubbed his beard and nodded. "Doctor Caroline Jessop, apparently a very popular woman for gender identity and similar related problems. I'll refer you to her after I've had a chat with her. No point in referring you if she turns out to be ... less sensitive."

"Alternatively, you can pop in for a chat with me. Though I'll admit my experience with GID is pretty limited, I've only really experienced two patients in my time with those particular issues. Whichever you feel most comfortable with, Mr. Kenney." He nodded his head, then began tapping out the prescription once more.

Griff paused, and added encouragingly. "The testosterone has really worked, at least in my opinion. I wouldn't have known your born gender if I hadn't had the file up."