Australia 1988

A year is a long time, it’s 52 weeks, remember. I must have seen John before 1989 as I went to Australia in 1988, to live, forever. Forever isn’t very long at all. The maximum length of script for Panteston I could get was 6 months, so that’s what I got. I also got a letter of introduction for specialist care.

After I got my Redundancy in 1987, hardly worth the effort I put in to that company, I made Head Boards for Waterbeds. I had my own division I built from me to a staff of 6 I think? I suppose my employer noticed I was the right stuff to train. They were good to me, they were excellent employers. I was just pissed off I lost my job for reasons beyond my control. They relocated to Auckland and my last task was to train my replacement. My employer had 2 factories and they were shutting down their Wellington branch, so they had all the people they needed.


1988 was Australia’s Bi-Centenary year, celebrated in September I think? I was on the Gold Coast by then in a bar with my uncles, that’s why I went to Brisbane I had family there. If I’d gone to Sydney I might have survived longer, but it was all going to fall apart anyway. I was ‘gun shy’ by then of all doctors.

I had my letter of introduction from John, I had my 6 month supply of Panteston, but there was an unforeseen problem. My Endocrinologists letter was worthless, fuckit! I saw a Brisbane doctor for a new script at about 7 months. I was never any good at taking them all, on time, so I had a few leftovers after 6 months. The doctor I saw was nice enough, he didn’t examine me, thank god! This was working out just as I had planned it would. Well it was until I tried to get my prescription filled at the chemist. The pharmacist said “What is your authorisation number?” Authorisation number! What authorisation number!!!!!!!!!!!!

I paid that bloody GP good money for that script, and he KNEW, he must have known, it was worthless! I had to see an Australian Endocrinologist to get officially recognised as being entitled to receive my medication. Bugger. I went back to that bloody doctor and explained my problem and he just said “This is not a big concern, I’ll refer you to a local Endocrinologist.”

Yeah right!

I almost got there too. I rallied myself up to get there on time, to the right ward, I almost entered but I knew what was going to happen, and I’d had enough. I can do this without medication. That was my brilliant decision. When you’re hypogonadal you should not make decisions, they’re bound to be bloody dumb!

Australians are great people, if you go there to retire, with your New Zealand Pension, or for a holiday, but to live there you have to have a type of personality that wasn’t my type. I was ok whilst I had enough testosterone, but when I was buying ‘black market’ old stock from creepy characters, in back alley’s of the seedy side of Brisbane, Australians get real racist! They hate New Zealanders who work there. It’s a tangible hatred, you can feel it! I noticed it before my testosterone ran out, but after my irritability level just sky-rocketed! I was lucky I didn’t get arrested and deported! It wasn’t like I was abiding by the laws after all. I was buying steroids illegally! Of course there’s a lot of crap in the media about steroids, and the Australian media, they invent stories.

I ended up selling almost everything I had accumulated. I like to live comfortably, even now. I like ‘mod cons.’ I moved down to Sydney, the people there are much more cosmopolitan, I discovered. Even by other Australians Brisbane is described as a ‘big country town’ jam packed full of narrow minded racists! If you want to find a bigoted society go no further than Brisbane, you’ll love it! Just don’t be black, Aborigine, Kiwi, British, Japanese, Pacific Islander (any island) that’s to live there, visiting’s just fine, they’re more than happy to smile at you whilst they take your money!

I got job at an upholstery factory with all sorts of other immigrants. The employers in Brisbane were good to me too, they paid good money for my services. It’s the everyday people who can’t control their over zealous pride, that would be the best, most favourable, description of them. But in Sydney I was just one of millions of different speaking people. The Australians in Sydney are pretty hard to find, in the areas I lived and worked. New Zealanders sound different to Australians, and they notice it, we do too. They sound ignorant and uneducated to us!

Leaving Brisbane not that great an idea, really. I had my unreliable supply, but in Sydney I had nothing. Initially I lived in ‘Kings Cross’ at the time it was Sydney’s ‘red light district’ it may well still be today? They had a mono-rail passed over the top of it, or quite near it. It was like you could shop for a prostitute (or whatever else you wanted) from the comfort of an air conditioned, glass lined, cabin. That was pretty modern! The ‘room’ I lived in was initially shared with 1 other person, then more and more beds just arrived and by the time I left, and moved to Redfern, I think, there were 8 people living in there, including an American Vietnam Veteran. He was a damn pain in the arse, all he ever did was get drunk, throw up, sleep and piss himself!

If I wanted a room on my own I had to provide ‘services’ to the Manager, and plenty of people did, there was just some ‘work’ I won’t do! This is when I knew I had to get testosterone therapy back. The Manager wouldn’t have found me very helpful, I was completely impotent by then.

It was all my effort just to stay awake for an 8 hour day, and I could never do overtime, and there was plenty on offer. I could have done the same in that factory as I did in Petone, if I had the strength? It didn’t bother me doing the mind numbing slog, to advance. It’s all good stuff for an employer, they can see I’m keen, and they want to pay me more. Then they want more, and I want more, and it’s a snowballing upward effect, usually.

Occasionally I do that and it comes to grief, I’m just being used and getting nothing tangible in return, but that’s life! Males are renowned for taking risks, why would I be any different?

I ended up calling my parents collect, to send me a ticket back to New Zealand.

That was; humiliating.

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.

Traditionally Considered to be Male

QR Code Web Address

I thought this was interesting:


I always thought the word ‘masculinity’ pertained to adult males. I am also a parent, and my son has severe delays, and when I was told of the name of it the first thing I did was look it up, so why would a parent of an XXY boy not look up XXY?

This idea presented by Shirley Ratcliffe is pretty close to my idea as to why some XXY men want to erroneously claim they’re aladin sane2 androgynous, (Chris Somers) Androgynous hermaphrodite, (Chris Somers, Gavan Coleman)Hermaphrodite intersex, (Chris Somers, David Strachan, Gavan Coleman, Michael Noble)female even female! (Gavan Coleman)

They all report having this odd idea of their sex after they discovered they were infertile. Being XXY was not a problem at all. Being diagnosed with Klinefelter’s syndrome wasn’t an issue. Having Gynaecomastia was a challenge, since 2 of them had it removed BEFORE they were diagnosed XXY.


Chris Somers tries to talk his way around that by claiming he was pressurised by the ‘society’ of his all boys’ school that he attended at the time, to conform his body to masculine normal.

I expect Gavan Coleman will do the same in time, it is his ‘modus operadi’ to blame others for his decisions. It’ll mean nothing to him to say ‘I really liked my tits and I really wanted to keep them, but in order to conform to masculine normal I capitulated to teasing.’

I don’t believe David Strachan ever had Gynaecomastia as mentioning it seems to have been an after thought, so he can more readily ‘fit in’ with the real Intersex people, and because in teenagers and men with Klinefelter’s syndrome it’s associated with a lack of testosterone. It CAN be a side effect of taking testosterone initially, but minor tweaking of the dose will cause it to subside. All these intersex types believe breasts are sex organs, and not disease in a males at all. There’s no way it could kill these guys! 🙂

“After 20 years of hormones, my body is
almost supermasculine (except for my
breasts). I feel like hormones have poisoned my body

Cameron 1995”
ISNA Newsletter

Of course all that poison didn’t stop him from taking it. In theory he started taking testosterone in 1975, just a wee while before me, and I don’t feel poisoned at all. So someone KNEW David Cameron (surprisingly similar name) was lying in 2002 when he claimed XXY boys were being experimented on, with the ‘poison’ testosterone, in the Fall 2002 ISNA Newsletter!

It’s a terrible thing when the charities one writes to makes their publications public knowledge, for the rest of time, that all can read. If this Cameron fellow was obese he could have developed ‘man boobs’ like any other obese man can develop. XXY men develop breast cancer much more frequently than XY men. It’s amazing this Cameron fellow was still alive after 20 years of Gynaecomastia! And the poor man just like David Iris Cameron Strachan was dissatisfied with the KS&A, as he perceived them to be a parent group, who didn’t represent homosexual men. This Cameron fellow of 1995 looks like the identical twin of David Strachan, associated with AIC today.

According to the poor Cameron fellow his doctors told him nothing about Klinefelter’s syndrome, and all the ‘men’ with it were homosexual and/or Transsexual. It must be an American thing, I have met in New Zealand 3 homosexual guys who are treated for Klinefelter’s syndrome. The 12 others never volunteered their sexuality. So what 20% were homosexual, what’s the usual rate? 🙂

Depending on the report Gynaecomastia does have a wide variability of effect, both in frequency and duration, and karyotype, XY boys in puberty get it too, and overweight XY men.

But infertility is pretty much universal!

Their masculinity was majorly challenged by being infertile, as masculinity is closely related to virility and fertility. I was quite surprised to discover that. In fact it’s a state of being male at any age where virility and fertility are assumed. If you’ve male genitals and you can’t meet the expectations of society, ‘how can I possibly be a real man,’ I’m certain that was their thinking. As blaming others for their failures is a factor in their personalities, they’d naturally be drawn to a group of people who have genuine issues with the medical profession, not made up issues many XXY men invent.

Maybe that’s how I preserved my sense of masculinity, by my understanding of the word? So that leaves hope for these emasculated in their minds souls to regain their true selves, and be the real men they were designed to be. Then of course they’d have to compete in the real world with real men, and I suspect they may be a tad bit unprepared for the contest. Far better in their minds to completely capitulate, than even attempt to try, as that requires work.

All these men are intersex as they can’t understand genetics. In at least Michael Noble’s eyes I’m a genius, I can magically make the additional X disappear, it’s all my doing. I’m a very clever man in his eyes. I know the power of genes and chromosomes are just carriers of genes, and if the genes don’t function, or do function where they’re not meant to be, problems will occur.

I think they all believe they have two complete X chromosomes fully functioning in all their cells, they believe they’re female of one kind or other. Not a lot different from being Transsexual.

Of course if Michael’s forte wasn’t Creative Writing, and was Genetics, he’d know all females born with female genitals, only have 1 X fully functioning in all their cells, just like all males do, even all XXY males! It’s just so sad all these potentially clever men have dedicated their lives to their ignorant stupidity. Imagine they all could have been great writers, or explorers, or even musicians and teachers if they’d just set their minds on education, instead of self justification!

Oh well, never mind. At least they can’t breed and pass their lack of knowledge on to anybody.


XXY men are Untrustworthy!

QR Code Web Address

XXY men, specifically, tell lies. They make up stories, it’s well documented. They can’t, as a group, explain their own personal situation accurately. They invent scenarios to fit their particular circumstances, or circumstances they believe others will emapthise with. I have personal experience of this, not that I do it myself.

Recently one XXY man told me he had such a small penis that he’d never had sexual intercourse with his wife. My first query was ‘why would such a man get married?’ although I never actually said it to him. Then he followed that up with a claim he’d been tested for infertility and not told he was XXY after the process. So my question was “Why did you have fertility testing if you’d never had sex, surely you know why your wife wasn’t getting pregnant?” To which I received the comment ‘you’re putting words in my mouth’ and other such stupidity. If I’d made an error, if he didn’t have a tiny penis, if he did have sex with his wife, why did he say he didn’t?

Later he found me again on Facebook, and requested friendship. Then he had to have surgery and he loaned his Facebook account to another person, who took the opportunity to attack me ruthlessly, as if I’d done something wrong. The gentleman in question had made up a great long scenario of events that never happened at all, and then forgot all his story when he had to seek medical therapy, and loaned his account out to the person he’d lied to.

Prior to that time we were having a reasonably sensible conversation, but when his lies became evident to me he had to cut me off, I might complain! But no, I understand many of these guys often live in a world all of their own, not related to reality. Given enough time he might even apologise, or conveniently forget his detailed story? Such has happened many times in my life when dealing with XXY guys, who are prone to inventiveness.

Years ago it became almost a pastime to bad mouth me. I am the tall poppy, I am proud of my knowledge. That attracts a certain degree of jealousy. One XXY guy from near Wellington claimed I’d forced my way into his appointment with his Endocrinologist, who also happened to be my Endocrinologist too, and he invited me to attend one of his appointments. John Delahunt wouldn’t tolerate anybody forcing their way into any confidential meeting without consent, or being invited, and there’d be no force or coercion. That single most important fact was lost to the XXY man concerned.

The most recent ‘tall story’ involves an XXY man who claims to have never had puberty! He made his claim on video, which is published on Vimeo and YouTube, and we can all see him sitting in front of a camera with a goatie beard, that can’t have grown unless he did indeed have puberty. He also said “what were the biology books saying I was doing?” in relationship to puberty. That was another gaff. XXY boys start puberty normally. In one study the XXY boys started puberty at 11.9 years and by the end of puberty their penis was normally sized in 77% of them.

Penis 77%

Curiously this particular XXY liar made plenty of videos on YouTube, one where his mother interviews him, and we learn that she suspected he was XXY at 4.5 years owing to his behaviour, and got no assistance from the medical profession. We also learn she’s a Biology teacher. We learn from his current video that he had gynaecomastia, and nobody put 2+2 together. Not even him! He was doing what biology books would say if high school biology books dealt with diseases, but they don’t, they deal with what usually happens. He thought his gynaecomastia was terribly disfiguring and he has it removed, but fails to understand it is a common feature of puberty (that he says he never had) that can affect ALL boys!


The report I’m giving excerpts from starts off with:

Unduly Pessimistic

Yet what do we find, the persons with the most pessimistic and outrageous stories are the XXY men themselves. There’s a particular anonymous XXY blogger on another site who misread this title and claimed the article was about length or life, not quality of life!


Even though I find the title disagreeable, it is accurate. One needs to read the entire report though before any solid conclusions can be drawn, and of course I have read it all. Even the authors themselves say their report has limitations. What they identify as the most important limitation I don’t even consider. I say the most important limitation is that these men with KS are being compared to a much larger population of men who are not treated for a chronic condition. If they were being compared to a group of men with Kallmann syndrome who take testosterone therapy, that would reveal some interesting results I’m sure.

The limitations the authors give are these:


So, in common language, the group studied were not part of an XXY group who had no testosterone therapy. The group was small. There was no guarantee they were actually taking their testosterone as it was prescribed during the study, or at all. The group was probably of patients who reported more frequently other problems anyway.

My opinion, ‘XXY guys make excellent hypochondriacs!’ 🙂

These are the sorts of issues Milton Diamond PhD never considers, it seems, when he writes his reports on XXY men treated for Klinefelter’s syndrome. XXY guys are not the most trustworthy individuals you’re ever likely to meet! Whatever they say must be corroborated by independent, unbiased, sources. And have I said, I’m XXY, I know what I’m talking about.


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.

Replying to Galens47

Addendum, I was just thinking, where I am and have been mostly since I was diagnosed, apart from a few excursions round the planet, life just isn’t the way these others describe. I don’t know why their doctors are so unprofessional, or why they don’t report similar things to me. It just doesn’t make any sense, when all the same treatments are here in the real down-under. I don’t know why it is that anybody would waste their time seeing doctors for years and all the time rejecting their advice. I know I didn’t maintain regular contact with my Endocrinologist, that was my fault. I didn’t need to, my script never changed nor my needs. I had major problems with ‘primary physicians’ from time to time, and left them to see another. If they cause me problems I feel no obligation to carry on seeing them. But some of these weird XXY people I write of in my blog don’t do that. They force themselves to see the same old doctor year after year and make no changes at all. Ask yourselves, are they really telling the truth?

Copied from Bodies Like Ours – a publicly accessible discussion group for men & women who can’t understand why they’re men and women.

“Another problem with most of the available studies is that the control groups are XY (males), XXY is a different creature and needs to be understood by itself. If a study wants to accurately describe XXY it has to use XXYs as the control. Many of us have “low” levels of T. Low compared to what? Normal for us?”

Presumably somebody will share this with Galens47, and if not, it’ll make an interesting study for those interested in why some XXY males don’t see themselves as male, nor any other XXY male as male either.

So what did & do you do Galens47 when you want to see a doctor? Did you telepathically communicate with your doctor, who then sent a goon squad to drag you out of bed, force you to attend a clinic/surgery, physically hold you down whilst blood was drawn, and immobilise you completely so that the doctor could examine you? Or did you just feel sick one a day and ring for an appointment like normal males do? There has to be some reason why you were diagnosed to begin with, and you must have thought you were not really male before then, after all chromosomes don’t maketh the man, conception, birth, life, and environment do. So if you’re not a real man now, you can’t ever have been a real man. Therefore why did you seek medical care, even real men hardly ever do that!

Have you ever heard of Kallmann syndrome men? They fail to enter puberty, as the part of the brain that makes gonadtropins doesn’t work properly, but you did start puberty, because your hypothalamus works just fine. You produce LH and FSH which causes your testes to produce testosterone, some of which is used by the enzyme Aromatase to synthesise into oestrogen. Exactly the same thing happens in XY males. I know you do have testes, you grizzle and moan about how you’re allergic to testosterone, yet do nothing to get rid of your number 1 supply of that darstedly evil hormone, that ruined your life! Oh why not, only real men have testes right? And you’re not a real man, so you don’t need testes right? So how do your testes function as opposed to XY men’s testes? Are they any different? I don’t believe they are, I believe they function in exactly the same way, just not at all efficiently in XXY males. Even spermatogenesis occurs to some degree in XXY men’s testes.

So who should we compare XXY men to in order to determine if they have sufficient testosterone? Well I’ve given you the answer here, it’s as obvious as dogs balls! This obviously didn’t happen with you, you can’t even remember, you really think you’re being compared to other men, with normally functioning testes! All I have to do to find out who I was compared to was to check my own medical record, and the answer is I was compared to myself!

I had 12 months of testing before testosterone therapy was indicated in me. I had x rays, blood tests galore, regularly. Hormone essays were done all comparing my results to my results, and my responses. Oh yes in New Zealand where I am, my opinion was sought BEFORE hormone therapy began. We obviously have well trained and competent doctors, who couldn’t give a fucking toss what some bloke down the road measured at, nor XY average. Such imaginations are the prime concern of ignorant XXY men, just like you Galens47, who have never asked their own doctor a single relevant question. That fact is what makes you a real male Galens47!

My FSH was not elevated, but my LH was, but not terribly much compared to other XXY men, but I wasn’t being compared to other XXY men. I was being compared to me. So by the time I was showing need for hormone therapy I was testosterone deficient. I was suffering from testicular failure, compared to me.

That is when the supposed XY average comes into to play. How does a doctor work out what level to prescribe for therapy, once testicular failure has been determined? And all the XXY guys who claim they just went to an Endocrinologist and were immediately prescribed whatever rate, without any studies, I don’t believe a word of it. No doctor would be so bloody stupid. In American the litigation centre of the world, a doctor prescribing Testosterone without doing studies, won’t be in business for very long. He’ll be paying compensation for centuries! Testosterone is a powerful hormone that has to be administered carefully.

The medical profession always err on the conservative. Unless the patient complains of ineffectiveness the rate is maintained until the doctor deems it necessary to alter the prescription. I didn’t complain for 24 years or so, even though I was dissatisfied, I wasn’t aware I could have my prescription altered.