For some reason with some XXY guys they have this weird Real MAN Crap to promote, such as they were supposedly told they can only be a real man if they took testosterone therapy? I believe that like I believe in the Tooth Fairy!
I’m a real skeptic. I need EVIDENCE of claims made, and I’m quite happy to provide evidence of claims I make. My Endocrinologist was most helpful in providing information, just not the right level of testosterone, I was treated to XY average, not enough.
I had lots of questions, more than that I did homework too. I volunteered I’d given myself a sperm test and found azoospermia. I didn’t know what I found was called ‘azoospermia’ but my description of what I did was acceptable to John as a reliable method, and he wrote of what I’d discovered in medical lingo.
I have never met another XXY man diagnosed with Klinefelter’s syndrome who’s done his own homework. It seems like I’m the only person who was interested enough in the words “Klinefelter’s syndrome” and the genetic signature “XXY” to find out what it all meant before I saw my Endocrinologist? I knew it had something to do with sex, when you get your balls crushed by, well by that stage, at least 4 doctors, you KNOW the balls are the problem.
I am alone. I am unique. I don’t need to be bolstered up by anybody else, as my dad said “Graeme has always been a loner.” Wasn’t that so nice of him to notice. I thought he didn’t give a shit about me. It’s amazing how wrong I can be!
My partner says I should visit her place more, now why do I want to do that? I know I have what she wants and she’ll be by, sooner or later, for her ‘man fix!’ We had a great laugh this afternoon, after preliminaries, about all the nonsense on the internet, and in books, about me and our other friend, Tiny! Of course you know why he’s called ‘Tiny’ as he’s the tallest guy I’ve ever seen in my life, much taller than any XXY guy I’ve ever met. Tiny is XYY! All I have to do is make myself known and all these other types just gravitate towards me. I have learned, being sociable aint all it’s cracked up to be, I like being a loner.
That wasn’t true in 1977 though.