While I’ve spent the last month judiciously lurking about, learning lots (thanks KSMan), this is my first time I’ve posted (as I’ve not had anything really much worthwhile to add).
Here’s the stats:
Michelin Tire Man Like in the midsection
T : 247
And as far as the symptoms, I could be a stunt double for a Low T commercial:
No morning blowers
London fog in the brain
Aches and pain in knee and ankle (been told I’ve had gout for a decade)
Loss of interest
Just sort of existing (and not a good one at that)
Up until about a month ago, and even though I saw the same adverts on TV, it never dawned on me that I was “one of them.” I mean, ED and the such is for “old guys.”
And then I stopped and considered, I am an old guy.
Here’s my tale of woe.
For the last decade, I’ve self-medicated with booze (no longer drink and attend some meetings), and to deal with a lack of drive, I took a particular recreational drugs to “jumpstart the banging.”
Toss in metabolic syndrome, a short stint with Zoloft and Xannies, Jim Beam by the quart, no self-esteem, a vibrant career in taters, and well, I was ready for a change?
However, it wasn’t until a dear friend of mine asked me, “Hey, when we go out to dinner, do you stop at Wendy’s and power down the burgers? No harm intended, but why are you such a fat ***k?”
You see, I practice a vegan lifestyle, I hit the gym boxing, no longer drink, don’t indulge in much junk food, and yet.
Rolly meet polly.
So I stumbled upon the low T quiz (ADAM) – scoring 8/10… And so began about a 30 day endeavor researching everything I could find – from the NIH, to this forum, to all points in between, the more I read, the more I became convinced I had secondary hypogonadism.
I am luckily enough to live about 1 mile away from a well-known TRT clinic. $125 later, I am signed up for blood work and a physical exam.
Took less than 5m at LabCorp to pull my blood, and a day later, I learn that I am T:247. The rest of my labs are okay (liver, CBC). My LH is 16’ish.
And then begain the week’s wait to see the Doc, and the dreaded finger up the can exam. During that time, I mistakenly Google prostrate cancer, breast cancer, and all the other crap that would keep me from getting some help.
The day arrives, and I find myself in the Doc’s office.
Everything going smoothly, and we’re to the point of the fun where I am told, “Drop trou, get on the table, right side, and draw your left knee up to your chest.”
And no sooner than you can say “digital rectal exam”, I am told, “Your prostate is small, smooth, and healthy.” (PSA 0.4).
I’m sent home, to await my meds.
200mg Cyp E7D
50 units HCG 2x week
1.0 mg Anastrozole 2x week
Yesterday, at 6pm, my package arrives, and 15 minutes later, I am ready to pin.
Suggestion: my vial of HCG was under vacuum (like deep space vacuum). I wished my GF has such drawing power – the 5ML of water in the syringe blasts into the vial.
So, all done at 6:30pm.
3am I am awaken with a tingling in the royal nutsack. Holy crap, I no longer have old man balls. My boys are tightened up and much plumper. And I’m sporting a nocturnal woody that is harder than Chinese arithmetic.
I’m thinking - that’s one hell of a placebo!
Today, as many others have written, the “fog” has lifted. For those of you that wear distance glasses, imagine driving at night, and when you put on your eyewear, do you notice how street lights and the such become “brighter” as they come into focus? Or if you have clogged ears that uncork?
Today, for the first time in a very very long time, I am no longer cloudy of mind.
Placebo? Or is it because my body is so starved for T? I dunno, but whatever the case, I am overjoyed. Perhaps, I won’t just lie on my bed, laptop on my belly, too tired to care. Just existing.
So in the end, I just wanted to share.
I know, when I was looking for answers, this board, the great folks on it, and their journey thru our shared hell was very helpful.
I’m just paying it forward.
Onwards and upward. Bring on the wood (and the chicks!)