work at the office, about Max.
Max is sixteen. So much changes when you are a teenager. You become aware of sex and love. You rush things, because you think your friends are experiencing more than you are. That’s one reason I see so many young kids coming in to talk to me about unprotected sex, about drugs, about alcohol. They all want to explore these new feelings. All the adolescents in Max’s school are pairing off or experimenting, as far as I can tell from how many come in to the drop-in sessions for contraception. Max must be waking up to it, revisiting his feelings about his condition as he understands what a difference it will make to his ability to form relationships. I wonder if I should recommend a counsellor.
Does Max feel intersex, or more like a boy? He seems to identify as a boy. He certainly wears the suit well. Little heartbreaker.
I requested karyotyping from Mia because it will tell me what type of intersex Max is and whether it’s in his chromosomes, written in his genetic make-up. This code dictates much of who Max will be, his health, how he functions, and his gender. Max’s file is over-full and confusing, and with diagnoses of these gender variations in such flux, I want to make sure he has been properly diagnosed. Karyotyping is a test often done with blood, which evaluates whether Max is XX (a girl), XY (a boy), or a combination. It might be that he is not truly intersex at all, that he presents that way physically, but is chromosomally a boy, or even a girl. If he is a boy, it could offer some real comfort to Max.
Max’s notes were all over the place, in all different types of handwriting. Not a lot was known about intersex conditions, even fifteen years ago, and I could not find his exact diagnosis in my quick scanning. I decide to read up on him, perhaps in my old textbooks, when I get time this week, while I wait for the karyotype.
One common type of intersexuality is Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome, where babies are genetically boys, but the body doesn’t react to androgens, including testosterone, in the womb, so they present as baby girls. The only reason I remember this type is because I saw it on a documentary. I search my memory, but I cannot recall any specific types I learnt about in my training. I wonder what secrets Max’s body is keeping.
Daniel
‘ S houldn’t you be in bed? It’s eleven,’ Max says, coming into my room. ‘You upset Mum today.’
‘Mum’s always upset with me.’ I shrug.
‘She’s never upset with you,’ says Max, and I raise my eyebrows at him, because for an older person, he sure doesn’t notice much.
‘Me and her fight all the time now,’ I tell him. He sits down next to me. ‘Oh. Do you?’
I kill three zombies and glance at him. ‘What’s wrong with you?’
He picks bits out of my carpet. ‘Nothing. Why?’
‘Don’t do that,’ I say.
‘Sorry.’
‘I thought Mum said you were sick. Aren’t you supposed to be lying down somewhere?’
‘No. I’m fine. I just . . . had a shock today. I told her I was fine. Didn’t want to make her worry.’
‘Suck up,’ I say, teasing him like he teases me sometimes. Max just looks at me and his eyes roll around in his head like he’s thinking. Not right back or anything, just from side to side.
‘I’m only joking,’ I say.
‘I’m not a suck up,’ he says.
I pause the game and put the controller down. ‘What shock?’
Max shrugs. ‘Nothing. I’m over it now,’ he says, picking up the controller and turning the loud music back on. He instantly kills a Gnomobear, which is sixty-five points. That’s triple the points you get for wiping out a zombie. He gives me a big, blank smile, like a line stretching across his face and showing one sliver of tooth. He giggles, promptly killing another Gnomobear, watching the frustration on my face because I have yet to kill any of them the whole game.
‘Nothing,’ he says again.
Sylvie
It beats and it beats and it beats,
This
Max is sixteen. So much changes when you are a teenager. You become aware of sex and love. You rush things, because you think your friends are experiencing more than you are. That’s one reason I see so many young kids coming in to talk to me about unprotected sex, about drugs, about alcohol. They all want to explore these new feelings. All the adolescents in Max’s school are pairing off or experimenting, as far as I can tell from how many come in to the drop-in sessions for contraception. Max must be waking up to it, revisiting his feelings about his condition as he understands what a difference it will make to his ability to form relationships. I wonder if I should recommend a counsellor.
Does Max feel intersex, or more like a boy? He seems to identify as a boy. He certainly wears the suit well. Little heartbreaker.
I requested karyotyping from Mia because it will tell me what type of intersex Max is and whether it’s in his chromosomes, written in his genetic make-up. This code dictates much of who Max will be, his health, how he functions, and his gender. Max’s file is over-full and confusing, and with diagnoses of these gender variations in such flux, I want to make sure he has been properly diagnosed. Karyotyping is a test often done with blood, which evaluates whether Max is XX (a girl), XY (a boy), or a combination. It might be that he is not truly intersex at all, that he presents that way physically, but is chromosomally a boy, or even a girl. If he is a boy, it could offer some real comfort to Max.
Max’s notes were all over the place, in all different types of handwriting. Not a lot was known about intersex conditions, even fifteen years ago, and I could not find his exact diagnosis in my quick scanning. I decide to read up on him, perhaps in my old textbooks, when I get time this week, while I wait for the karyotype.
One common type of intersexuality is Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome, where babies are genetically boys, but the body doesn’t react to androgens, including testosterone, in the womb, so they present as baby girls. The only reason I remember this type is because I saw it on a documentary. I search my memory, but I cannot recall any specific types I learnt about in my training. I wonder what secrets Max’s body is keeping.
Daniel
‘ S houldn’t you be in bed? It’s eleven,’ Max says, coming into my room. ‘You upset Mum today.’
‘Mum’s always upset with me.’ I shrug.
‘She’s never upset with you,’ says Max, and I raise my eyebrows at him, because for an older person, he sure doesn’t notice much.
‘Me and her fight all the time now,’ I tell him. He sits down next to me. ‘Oh. Do you?’
I kill three zombies and glance at him. ‘What’s wrong with you?’
He picks bits out of my carpet. ‘Nothing. Why?’
‘Don’t do that,’ I say.
‘Sorry.’
‘I thought Mum said you were sick. Aren’t you supposed to be lying down somewhere?’
‘No. I’m fine. I just . . . had a shock today. I told her I was fine. Didn’t want to make her worry.’
‘Suck up,’ I say, teasing him like he teases me sometimes. Max just looks at me and his eyes roll around in his head like he’s thinking. Not right back or anything, just from side to side.
‘I’m only joking,’ I say.
‘I’m not a suck up,’ he says.
I pause the game and put the controller down. ‘What shock?’
Max shrugs. ‘Nothing. I’m over it now,’ he says, picking up the controller and turning the loud music back on. He instantly kills a Gnomobear, which is sixty-five points. That’s triple the points you get for wiping out a zombie. He gives me a big, blank smile, like a line stretching across his face and showing one sliver of tooth. He giggles, promptly killing another Gnomobear, watching the frustration on my face because I have yet to kill any of them the whole game.
‘Nothing,’ he says again.
Sylvie
It beats and it beats and it beats,
This
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