Real MAN Crap

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.

22 August 1977 azoospermia

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!

1977 - psych report loner

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.

Klinefelter’s syndrome 1976 to 1977 Deadly Serious from Graeme-xxy on Vimeo.

My Balls

My balls are absolutely artificial. Further down I show a video of them, so if you don’t want to see it, don’t select it.

I’ve read some pretty dubious accounts by some XXY guys regarding their treatment, testosterone in particular, and what doctors have supposedly said to them, although they don’t actually name the doctor they’re referring to.

Mr Colin Calcinai, Plastic Surgeon – he gave me the greatest pair of balls I’ve ever had, and I’ve still got them too!

Dr John W Delahunt, Endocrinologist – didn’t always get things right, was relying on me to report accurately, that might have a been a mistake? Has always kept me up to date, and always provides information as I request it, and treats me in accordance with my wishes. Me not having the language skills to ask appropriate questions, was not his fault.

Dr Riseley G.P. informed my parents of my diagnosis without asking me, even though he was not obliged to, I was legally a minor. I never talked to him beyond basic medical care, ever, as a result of his decision. When my trust in someone has gone, that’s it forever.

So I don’t have a problem naming doctors and saying what they did, or didn’t do. When my scrotum split wide open a day after my second surgery Mr Calcinai did shout ‘keep still’ when he was trying to sew back up, as I was really agitated and not co-operating as much as I could. It doesn’t matter to me that they are artificial, when my balls start falling out it’s a shock!

So I’m just dumbfounded by some of the reports I read from other XXY guys, who seem to be inventing accounts as they’re so far removed from my personal experience.

I made the below video in 2010 and uploaded it as an unlisted video to YouTube. I made it on a Monday for the viewing of my Endocrinologist on the Wednesday following. I mentioned I’d made it in another video and a YouTube staff member red flagged it and removed it, claiming it had been seen by ‘members of the community’ but it never had been, no-one had ever seen it. This is a breach of YouTube’s rules in that an unlisted video can only be seen by a person the link is shared with, and I’d not shared it with anybody. I made it for my Endocrinologist to avoid a medical examination. I thought it was a brilliant idea. I mention my BMI (Body Mass Index) which I can report is still the same today. Nudity is allowed on YouTube, except when I do it.

I have an Endocrinologist who talks to me. He doesn’t just say, ‘this is it, take it or leave it‘ he gives me options, he always has done. He has never said to me ‘you can’t be a real man without testosterone therapy.‘ I wanted testosterone before he would give it to me. I had to wait over 12 months from initial contact with him to be started on testosterone. So all accounts of XXY guys being forced to, or cajoled into, taking testosterone are alien to me.

I can’t remember the name of the original Surgeon who inserted my first set of bigger balls. They were like hard pigeon eggs anyway, and I do have Mr Calcinai’s description, so I don’t really need to name that Surgeon. There’s no point in continuously complaining, when the matter’s been resolved. It’s much more pleasing and helpful to praise the Surgeon who did the best job, than complain about the Surgeon who did the worst. They were both constricted by medical policy in New Zealand that didn’t, and still doesn’t, allow either to remove an XXY’s defunct testes, when inserting prostheses.

One account I believed was nonsense was of an XXY man claiming his doctor was giving him very large doses of testosterone and his body wasn’t registering it being there. It turned out he was taking the testosterone by capsule. I already knew how that form of testosterone is used by the body, and I assumed he did too, and was just being misleading, deliberately. Then a few years later another XXY man approached me with the same story, how his level was not increasing when tested for with a blood test. “Aha” I thought, “how similar!” Yes the capsule’s testosterone can’t be measured in a blood test! It’s transported round the body in fat, not blood. 😛

So is it possible for two totally unrelated XXY guys to recount a similar story about an identical product, you bet! Not all doctors do know what they’re doing in regard to testosterone. XXY guys like me want to know what each product does, and how it works, how long it’s duration is, everything really about whatever the product is. I knew from the very moment I started on the capsules that the other perceived benefit would be real, no more blood tests, no more needles period!

A surgeon who has obviously had a little too much to drink.

Who should be referred to as having Klinefelter’s syndrome?

Hi, my name is Graeme, I’m treated for Klinefelter’s syndrome.


It’s not quite like Alcoholics Anonymous, people develop that alcoholism disease by some means or other I’m not entirely sure of, and they never recover, ever, they are always alcoholics. So what would be the symptoms of that disease? Craving alcohol maybe? Drinking alcohol? Obviously I do not know.

I do know about low testosterone, much lower testosterone than the body needs to be healthy. That kind of low testosterone is called Hypogonadism, and because it’s the testes (balls, testicles, nuts, gonads, nads, boyz) that are directly affected, the type of hypogonadism is referred to as Hyper-gonad-tropic.

Hyper = OVER example – HYPERactive – Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.

Hypo = UNDER example – HYPOdermic NEEDLE goes UNDER the skin.

Get it? = Understand? = With me so far?

So why am I treated for Klinefelter’s syndrome? I don’t have any features of Klinefelter’s syndrome, not one! (That YOU can see)

Oh what does ‘syndrome’ mean?

One medical definition I read said “A collection of symptoms indicative of disease.” That’s how I know Klinefelter’s syndrome is the symptoms of something else, because that’s what SYNDROME means. So what is the ‘something else?’ The ‘something else’ is seminiferous tubule dysgenesis, that is a disease in the testes.

Just as aside, the reason Klinefelter’s syndrome ISN’T widely known about is because it’s all about SEX, every aspect of it is related to SEX. Parents with XXY boys have to learn to talk about SEX. It just goes with the territory, as they say.

So why am I treated for Klinefelter’s syndrome?

Because I estimate at about 14 I developed it, and didn’t know it. My testes atrophied, having initially grown, and I didn’t notice, nobody noticed. My best friends’ mother in London, where I went to High School, she noticed something was wrong, she even mentioned it how my best friend was 1 year younger than me and he was “covered in hair” and I had “no hair at all.” That woman did have 2 older sons and knew how boys normally developed, I’m the oldest son in my family. My parents had no idea, and neither did I, that I was not progressing through puberty properly.

I was very skinny. I had no musculature at all. When I was 14 or 15 I was evaluated for Anorexia Nervosa, but there was no medical examination, just a psychiatric evaluation. I weighed about 50kgs and I was 5’8″ tall. Because I was pissed off with people, parents in particular, mentioning my weight constantly, which annoyed me greatly, I was desperate to gain weight just to shut the bastards up! It was deemed from my attitude and protests that I did not have Anorexia Nervosa, and that I would gain weight in my own time.

The damn medical profession got something right for a change! When I was 4ish I’m told I was diagnosed with Petit Mal Epilepsy, and I distinctly remember taking medication for that, for years! It didn’t work, I’ve never had any type of Epilepsy. I did and do have AD/HD Inattentive Type. Look up the two, they’re so similar it’s not surprising to me they got the wrong one.

Years later after my diagnosis I found an article about Anorexia Nervosa in an XXY teenage boy. That was almost annoying to read, I could have been discovered back then, but wasn’t because there was no examination of my testes!


So back to High School in London. I was FORCED to play Rugby. I’m from New Zealand, everybody plays Rugby, right? Not right! I actually played football (soccer) when I was at Parkway Intermediate. I was hopeless at Rugby as I wan’t heavy enough to compete. Toothpicks can’t tackle! All through Fernlea School I played Rugby, for years, and I did not too bad. Not the best not the worst. I played a couple of times for the school in primary (junior) competitions, but when puberty arrived, (that I didn’t know about) that was the end of my Rugby career, and now I know why.

In the classroom I didn’t want to compete, or take part, or be there. So I wasn’t quite like all the other XXY boys I read about when they’re in primary (junior) school. I wasn’t a quiet shy type. I was a ‘I wanna get out of here’ type. Getting out of school was like a National pastime. I would do it every day if I could, and not be there. It was like ‘wow what am I here for?’ I didn’t understand anything of what was being taught most of the time. I’d lose track of the conversation so fast modern Formula1 race cars would be left in my wake! Primary school was a mysterious nightmare, or torture of the mind.


My poor old mum, (bitch), I “ruined her life” she said. Three children at school and her time to go back into the work force at least part time, and regularly she’s called to the school, to find me. I just never seemed to be where I was supposed to be, and I didn’t mind. I didn’t want to be there anyway. It’s not like it was enjoyable or fun, class time that is.


Play time was great, I liked play time, I was good at that. All the ball games, all the stick games, put a stick and ball together and I was good at that too. I was not physically uncoordinated that’s for sure, just concentration challenged! If receiving or delivering a ball took more than a few seconds, I’d have been screwed, but the beauty of ball games is when I’ve got it, the ball, it’s not ‘mine’ for all that long, and I can make a real quick decision to get rid of it, and did. Then all I had to do was make sure I was in the right place to get it back, and that I did too.

I wonder how I can relate to the reader what it was like for me at Primary school, when I was asked anything, and I was regularly asked things, explains things, anything, and I think the best way to do it is this:


I spent a lot of time thinking.

But I didn’t know I was thinking, I was just a blank. I’d disappear into somewhere, in my head. It’s hard to explain. Like if you went somewhere physically, (as I did many times), and got totally absorbed in a tiny little thing, and you pondered it deeply, more deeply than anything you’ve ever pondered in your life before, and just examined the finest intricate detail of just a single aspect of it, for hours. The entire world disappears and you’re at peace. If you can do that with your mind, with all the turmoil of a class room around, you’re clever, in my opinion. Is there another way to stay sane when surrounded with insanity?

So XXY boys who have LD’s are supposed to be these quiet shy types who say nothing to everybody, and sit in classrooms, and fade into nowhere, and learn nothing. That’s sort of similar I suppose to me, except the quiet shy bit. If someone managed to get to me in the class room everybody would know about it, I do not like being disturbed. Leave me in my day dream you bastards. I have no patience for people who want to annoy me. They can all fuck off! I do not need people to rely on, I never learned it, I don’t see why I should.

I used to ride my bike to school, sometimes I even managed to get there on time without diversions. I rode my bike everywhere, I was not suffering from hypogonadism before puberty. I had plenty of energy. I wasn’t taller than the other boys, I wasn’t the shortest either, I was about average once I got to about 8, before then I was one of the shortest.


Getting back to Rugby in High School, in London, when I was FORCED to play. In theory could have selected Football, I did select Football, and my selection was overturned by our Physical Education teacher. Nice guy, bald head, bastard! He wouldn’t let me change it back either, so I’d play MY style of Rugby, get rid of the ball as fast as possible, get into position to get it back and avoid having to tackle or be tackled at all costs, even the offside rules. Again I had plenty of energy, and nothing I did caused musculature to develop, or body hair to grow, or any signs of facial hair.

When I play Rugby I get dirty. Everybody does. I would have to play Rugby at other schools, and Council owned grounds, and all sorts of places like that, and thankfully they had hot showers. I didn’t give a damn about who saw me naked in the showers, I didn’t know I was terribly anything different to any other teenage boys who played Rugby. That Physical Education teacher I mentioned noticed something though. After one game and the shower afterward he stopped me as I was leaving to go home and said “Owing to your development you no longer have to play Rugby” I could have kissed him, whoopee!! I can retire from Rugby for good. It was only years later, after my diagnosis I thought about what he had said, as he drove me home, something that never happened before or since.

What had he seen?


That photograph above was taken at the 1972 Olympic Games in Munich, Germany. I was 5’8″ tall and weighed about 50Kgs. That picture is of a teenage boy with undiagnosed seminiferous tubule dysgenesis, the symptoms of which are called, “Klinefelter’s syndrome.”

These are the types of people who should be referred to has having Klinefelter’s syndrome, whether they like it or not. What you can’t see is what I think that Physical Education teacher saw, atrophied testes, and gynaecomastia. I didn’t like unfolding my arms as my chest would be more easily seen. Like everything else that happened when I was a child and teen, most of the time I had no idea how to ask questions or get help, or acknowledge that I needed either.

I can recall standing in that yellow ‘T’ shirt in front of a mirror thinking ‘this just doesn’t look right’ and then it’d go away, so I’d forget about it until I noticed it again. And it turns out that is how gynaecomastia behaves. Of course in more aware people who are concerned about how they look constantly, they might mention it? I just kept everything to myself, what was I supposed to say anyway? Got any ideas? Sex was not a topic of conversation in our house, nothing to do with sex was ever volunteered. I didn’t even know what puberty was, even when I was in it, at the start.

I recall a time where my sister was handed a book by our mother, quietly through the gap in the door between the hallway and the kitchen, when I wasn’t expected to be there, but then I did have a tendency to be where I wasn’t expected, and not be where I was. Since my sister and I are only just over 12 months apart in age we were inseparable, we even dressed the same, no I didn’t wear dresses, she wore shorts and ‘T’ shirt. I got plenty of photos of that.


So it was unusual for my sister to be given something and I not get it too. She played with my trucks, and fire engines, and radios, and I played with her dolls, plastic farm animals, and blocks, we shared everything. We always played together. We were always together. We slept in the same bed for years. My younger brother was supposed to share a room with me, but initially he slept on his own, in a room with two bunk beds. Then one day it all changed, about that time that book was handed over, in it’s secretive brown paper wrapper. Something was in it that I wanted to know, because my sister knew it. So I asked, this turned out to be the only question about sex I ever asked, and I didn’t know it, I asked “Can I see that?” And our mother said “When you’re older.” “Oh OK” I said, and I have never seen that particular book, so I guess I’m still not ‘older.’

bath baby dolls time

i think she's upset

The only benefit, looking back, of going to London was meeting Keith, if I’d not met him I don’t know when I’d have discovered what puberty was. I was well into studying Human Biology, but the subject of puberty wasn’t covered as by then everybody was virtually sexually mature, and sex education was all about human reproduction, how not to get pregnant, avoid STD’s, obtain prophylactics, that were technically illegal for under 18’s to acquire. Silly rules in England about sex, what fool thinks if condoms aren’t made available that teenage boys and girls won’t attempt to have sex?

Well of course they attempt to have sex. Even I did! I wouldn’t have if Keith wasn’t there though, he’d ‘set me up’ with girls for sex.

[Ohh complaint from the peanut gallery – do not be confused or deliberately ignorant, teenage girls want sex with teenage boys too, this is by no means a 1 way street. I just happened to be in a desirable position, Lord of the Manor, effectively. Edit added 26 May 2013]

I didn’t know how to meet girls for sex. There aren’t any lessons on that aspect of sex. I think he must have learned it from his 2 older brothers? I could provide a house, my parents were almost always out, they had important Diplomatic things to do, cocktail parties, dinners, wine and cheese evenings with foreign dignitaries, and occasionally they had one of those at their house, where I lived. Do you think I went to London for my health? Do you think it was my choice? Don’t be so silly. Anyway, making a house available for Keith’s idea of a party was easy, and my reward was sex. Sounded like a great deal to me.

So how big were my balls then? I didn’t have enough testosterone to grow facial hair, or enough to grow body hair, or enough to develop musculature, but I did have enough to have an erection, and be interested in sex. I did know my balls were particularly sensitive and needed very gentle care. But none of the girls mentioned them, if they were tiny, nobody noticed. I certainly didn’t. One time my sister’s boy friend flicked my balls with his finger tips, he thought it was funny, I can assure you it’s not. It’s bloody agonising. I knew he had a habit of doing that to other boys at school, but I thought as he was my sisters boyfriend I’d be safe. That turned out to be a wrong assumption. To him no boys’ balls were ‘protected.’

So however big they were they felt pain, they dangled on warm days, they were definitely present. I didn’t start getting tired after physical activity, like really tired, until after I stared working. Doing a ‘mans’ days work for a mans’ days pay’ as the Employment Officer said at my interview for my first full time job at General Motors, Trentham, Upper Hutt, New Zealand. When I had easily left school London, returned to New Zealand, done 6 months at Wainuiomata College, travelling to there and back by bus every day from Lower Hutt, leading my physically active, busy life. So it was a bit of a shock to suddenly not have the energy I used to have.

I was still very skinny, no musculature, and the arguments over my diet were ever present. I ate as much as I could eat, as much as I needed, I didn’t see any point in eating any more. I couldn’t eat any more. My mother would prepare meals that I was too tired to eat. I’d get back from work and crash. I just didn’t have any inclination to do anything. I was becoming more and more impotent, I’d still think about sex, and a partner is not needed to have sex, but an erection helps. It’s just plain depressing to not be able to have an erection, and at 17 it’s unusual, very! Without discussing anything with anybody at all I gave 1 weeks notice, the legally required notice, and left General Motors.

I got tired of waking up in Wellington, when I should have got off the train at Woburn. I had to pay the extra fare I didn’t intend to take, and another one back to Petone, or Lower Hutt. It wasn’t a lot of money, I could easily afford it, it was just bloody inconvenient. I knew Ford Motors were hiring, and I thought I’d get a job there, half an hour from where I lived. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? I suppose it was good, that was where I had my first ever full body physical examination, without my mother present. That’s when I was first suspected of Klinefelter’s syndrome, because of my total lack of musculature, no body hair, no facial hair, and small firm testes (balls), and an inability to have an erection. Oh yes people, good doctors want to know and examine EVERYTHING, and bad doctors don’t. There are more bad doctors than good doctors, from my experience.

And the rest as they say is HISTORY.

XXY Boys should not be referred to as having Klinefelter’s syndrome

For parents out there, your children are children, this fact seems to be lost on many parents, thinking of a related matter I read a couple of days ago. I read of a mother who described her sons penis as a ‘doodle.’ I think children can get their minds and tongue around ‘penis’ more easily than ‘doodle.’ Maybe the mother does’t refer to her sons penis as a ‘doodle’ to him, maybe she was just nervous about mentioning the correct word where she was? People confident to talk about sex have no problem referring to sex organs of both sexes by their correct name, wherever they are.

Children are learning, and I know you all know that, and their first teachers are their parents, I know you all know that too. So if your son is prenatally diagnosed XXY and you decide to keep him, not kill him, I think it would be an excellent idea to learn up on genetics. Not just go along with whatever the prevailing attitude is. Actually think about it, with an analytical, mature, mind.

Go to my previous post if you want links, you can find out all you need to know there when it comes to what Klinefelter’s syndrome is, and how it got it’s name.

Bearing in mind that Klinefelter’s syndrome is the SYMPTOMS of a DISEASE, not a DISEASE in itself. So when are you parents likely to notice your XXY son is developing the beginnings of Klinefelter’s syndrome?

According to common knowledge Klinefelter’s syndrome is seen in very young boys, even babies, and there is nothing the parent can do about it. There’s a nice defeatist attitude, saves having to think about what you’re doing and and why. You’re just observers of your sons predictable life, as you’ve read about other XXY boys who appear the same. That they have 44 unique autosomes and 3 unique sex chromosomes means absolutely nothing to you. Like when you walk down the street and see other men and women you think to yourselves how all just like YOU they are!

The additional X is mostly inactivated. It’s mostly inactivated in everybody with more than 1 X chromosome, that’s all you XX mothers out there too. You can’t resign from the study of genetics just because you’re a mother. So if we look at XXX females, what SYMPTOMS of DISEASE are they named after? It must have slipped my mind, I am XXY after all and I do have a poor short term memory. Maybe I can blame that extra X? Or Klinefelter’s syndrome – the symptoms of a disease? Or my parents for me having a poor short term memory?

Getting back to XXX females, it turns out they do have noticeable educational difficulty, fancy that! They seem to have growth issues too, being slightly taller than average females, in childhood. At puberty they’re fertile, they don’t have interference in their cells preventing the development of complete puberty, and interference of their ovaries to release eggs. They don’t develop soon after the onset of puberty hypergonadtropic hypogonadism or hypogonadtropic hypogonadism. They don’t have any kind of hypogonadism. I think it’s proven, the additional X can have an effect on education and growth regardless of the sex of the person with the additional X.

So those growth issues you parents see in your XXY sons before puberty have nothing to do with Klinefelter’s syndrome, and everything to do with the fact that there is an additional X, but not in every XXY boy. In fact if you decided you could find all XXY boys by karyotyping all tall boys, you’d miss most XXY boys. Most boys who are taller than average have normal sex chromosomes. But by karyotyping ALL boys you’d find ALL XXY and XYY boys, and ALL XX boys, and ALL XXXY boys, and ALL XXXXY boys, and every other variation there is.

So why is it then that some XXY boys are more affected than others? That might have something to do with their parents? For some reason every time I chat with parents of XXY boys they all seem to assume they’re the ‘bees knees’ of parents. How can that be when they have usually never trained to be parents before they were parents? Like most parents who discover they have a child who’s different, they have to learn how to care for that child. I don’t read how the parents of these XXY boys took themselves off to parenting classes after the diagnosis. They always seem to want to be involved in genetic counselling for themselves, and be involved with support groups to compare notes with other parents, and console themselves that they’ve done nothing wrong, and never could.

Curiously Dr Johannes Nielsen (deceased) in Denmark found that of all the XXY boys who did poorly in school, who had behaviour and educational difficulty, and ‘brushes with the law’, all came from poor parenting homes. Other XXY boys who experienced educational difficulty, and emotional disturbance, were assisted by sensible parents, and their children did not end up ‘before the courts’ as they say. Parents do have a lot to do with the way in which their XXY boys learn and communicate, and their progression to adulthood.

Did I mention the 44 unique autosomes and 3 unique sex chromosomes? Oh yes I did. They all came from their parents, the genetic providers. Are the genetic providers related to all the other genetic providers of all the other XXY boys on the planet? Are all XXY males the offspring of the same family of incestuous genetic providers? I would find that somewhat hard to believe, (makes great science fiction though.) So we all have different autosomes and sex chromosomes that come from different parents, so the possibility of other genetic conditions existing in an XXY boy, that are undiscovered, is just as good as anybody else having an undiscovered genetic anomaly, or maybe even better, since they all do have an additional X chromosome. Genetics is the only area where parents can be freed from responsibility, since XXY is a random event, that cannot be predicted.

The way in which genes work is that they are said to ‘express’ like the expression of a opinion. That expression has an effect somewhere else. So since all our genes are not exactly the same as any other person on the planet, it is conceivable that genes expressing to cause good memory, do not have the intended expression and the signal is interrupted by failing genes, or non existent genes. Just because we have the same shape and number of autosomes and chromosomes does not mean the same genes on that additional X are expressing in all of us, to the same degree. It could be that the most severely affected XXY boys have more genes that escape inactivation on the additional X than most XXY boys?

One way to further settle the matter is to look at a population of persons who have no sex hormone in childhood, do they have poor short term memory? Actually no, not as a group. Maybe there are individuals with Kallmann syndrome with poor short term memory, but it is not a feature of their syndrome, that they are born with, they are hypogonadal in the womb and at birth.

It seems the only time these people have difficulty is when they fail to enter puberty properly. The initial changes of puberty do start, they just fail to continue as they have hypogonadtropic hypogonadism, where the gonadtropins are not produced to tell their gonads to start working.

So if hypogonadism is the cause of all the difficulty in XXY boys before puberty’s onset, why is hypogonadism not the cause of difficulty in childhood for Kallmann syndrome people?

Well I’m convinced:

“Nobody was ever born with Klinefelter’s syndrome. XXY pre pubertal boys cannot have Klinefelter’s syndrome. Klinefelter’s syndrome is the post onset of puberty symptoms of disease XXY men and, XXY teenage boys can develop.”

XXY boys should not be referred to as having Klinefelter’s syndrome.

Chris Somers’ Thesis

I had to go to Wikipedia about the meaning of “Thesis” after reading some of Chris’s ‘thesis’ wondering if a fantasy essay could be described as a “thesis” and it can be! I wrote to Chris on Facebook and asked if he has medical proof of his ovaries, he claims in his “thesis” that he has, so far he’s not replied. It appears his “thesis” is an autobiography, I didn’t know one could get a degree by writing an autobiography, but for a Western Australian university it appears one can do just that.

I haven’t got very far through it, I was just stunned to read of his ovaries, that he could hear! Is that “poetic license” or “magical thinking?” I have never read anywhere of an XXY man having ovaries, so his confirmation of having actual ovaries will be a first, if he does actually have medical evidence of these ovaries? I’m not sure if those reading his “thesis” bothered to check the finer details, but it’s supposed to be part of a research document, to satisfy the requirements I understand to be the point of a ‘thesis’ in order to gain a degree.

According to standard medical literature a True Hermaphrodite has “ovarian and testicular tissue in the same or opposite gonads.” That definition would then make Chris a True Hermaphrodite, and I have never read or heard of an XXY man being a True Hermaphrodite. So getting confirmation of his claims would be a medical first, so far as I know. And when I’m dealing with an XXY guy especially I do not just accept his word, for anything. I always check things out.

Such as recently I was approached by a New Zealand XXY guy who claimed to be taking 120mgs testosterone by capsule twice per day, making a total of 180mgs testosterone per day. As soon as I saw the amounts I knew he was mistaken, the product he takes is in 40mgs capsules, and 40 does not divide evenly into 180. Someone had made a mistake. What he was actually taking was 120mgs (3 capsules) twice per day, making a total of 240mgs per day. That is a very high dose. But still he insisted he was told he was taking 180mgs per day. Since it is impossible to cut one of the capsules in half, and even if he did the taste would definitely put him off ever doing it again, it was obvious he was not taking the 180mgs dose he claimed. He was taking much more. But because he thinks he was told something, he believed that’s what he was taking.

In the literature XXY males frequently suffer from auditory processing problems. For some reason some XXY men, if not all XXY men, think that testosterone is a cure-all for all their maladies, when it is not. Testosterone only treats hypogonadism. Auditory processing problems will need to go to a language specialist of some kind, or not be treated at all I expect. I attempted to explain to the fellow this feature of being XXY, as it clearly has nothing to do with Klinefelter’s syndrome as it doesn’t respond to the standard treatment for male hypogonadism, testosterone. I think he now understands what he thought the doctor said, wasn’t what the doctor meant, even if the doctor did actually say it?

I wonder if Chris’s ovaries are of the same origin? That is what he thought he heard, therefore that is what he did hear? That is what he tells people but can he back it up?

To be continued……