It was a good night.

My train arrived late into London and I had to double-time the walk to meet with the psychologist, but it all went well enough.

I was hot and sweaty and feeling dishevelled by the time I arrived but, to be honest, I didn't look as bad as she did. It was evident that her office had no air con and she had had precious little fresh air all day. She looked more tired and dishevelled than me.

The interview went well. We covered old ground but that didn't rattle me at all. I simply answered the questions honestly and straightforwardly. I've been asked the same questions so many times now, and while they would have annoyed me six months ago, they didn't yesterday. It's as if these people don't read each other's reports - or maybe they're trying to find a different answer. 

Anyway, a little over one hour after meeting her, I was checking into my hotel.

I found the gym and used it then took a shower and ordered room service. Great food, I have to say. I spent the rest of the evening reading and listening to music until my eyes started to close.

This morning, after another trip to the gym, I showered and checked out before finding a great coffee shop along the street from my hotel, which is where I am now. My train departs in around 50 minutes so I'm just passing the time and reflecting on yesterday's interview.

She told me to schedule a follow up appointment with the psychiatrist next month and then another one with her in January when she will recommend top surgery. She's already emailed the psychiatrist to agree with his assessment that I need a better T prescription than the one I currently have.

All in all it's been a worthwhile trip to London. Again.

Peace and love, everyone.