First Encounter of the "Nutty kind"
As one would imagine after four weeks of being deprived of Testosterone, I was anxious as all hell to restore my status quo. Such was my constant agitation, that my girlfriend had had enough and sent me home. It felt as though she was deserting me in my hour of need. Depression set in.
My first meeting with the Endocrinologist, (hormone doctor),was perhaps the most eagerly awaited meeting since Adam met Eve. At least, it was for me. He appeared a very competent, friendly and helpful man. He'd just spent time in the USA, so knew a lot about his subject on both sides of the Atlantic. Here is what he told me in March of 1988.
The Research
Men and women are able to produce Testosterone through the adrenal gland. Men, of course produce their male-defining quantity through their testicles. When a man loses his testicles, he naturally may only produce what a woman produces. Left untreated, the male would begin to take on the characteristics of a female. Smoother skin, higher voice and even develop breasts. High levels of Testosterone in the male body are thought to increase aggression.
The levels of Testosterone in a man's body varies widely. The normal range measured is between 13 nmol/l and 26 nmol/l. A woman's level is about 0.29 nmol/l. I had some questions for him.

Question:
What can I read about my condition?
Answer: Nothing! There has been no research carried out on male patients who have lost their testicles, because there aren't many of them. There is a proposal that research be carried out amongst male prisoners in the USA, who have been chemically castrated.

Question: So what happens to guys like me?
Answer: Those who do not commit suicide normally end up in a mental institution. With those words ringing in my ears and round my addled mind, I listened to the treatment options.
Treatment can take one of three forms. Injection, pills or implant.*
* At the time of my operation, skin patches were not developed.
Choices, Choices, Choices !
Evaluating the treatment I was to receive was dependent on one major factor. Did I drink alcohol. He explained that the pills given attack the liver directly and should not be taken if a person drinks to excess. Well, I had to hold my hands up to that one. I had cut down on drink, but my liver still protested when the Doc took the liberty of feeling it. Pills were out of the equation.
Implants, a minor operation under local anesthetic every three months, were the next option. The Doc didn't think they were available in the UK, but promised to find out. Implants were out, at least for the time being.
Injection was the sole remaining option. He suggested an injection every four weeks. He proceeded to give me the first one then and there.
My Sonny, how you've changed!
It took a couple of days after my first injection of "Sustanon 250", for the hot sweats to stop. I began to feel better and made plans to go on a holiday immediately after Radiotherapy was complete. For the next four weeks, I trotted dutifully into Charing Cross to be zapped. Mark Glaser ran the department with a rod of iron, such was his dedication. His assistants were wonderful of course. I had been given pills to combat diahorrhea and stomach upsets, which I took. After a while, hair dropped from my chest and abdomen, leaving a neat Mohican hairstyle for pubic hair. This was because my penis was protected from the zapping.
For the first couple of weeks everything was fine. Sure my stamina levels were low, as was my mood. But physically, I felt I was getting back to some sort of normality.
The third week saw a change as I began to feel out of sorts mentally again. I was irritable most of the time. Buy the fourth week, I became positively demented. Just one word out of place would send me into a rage. Hot sweats began an exponential increase until, at last, the day for my next injection arrived.
Welcome to the Real World
I related my experience to the doctor. He explained that when the injection is given, Testosterone levels rise above the male norm and then slide down the scale until they reach zero some four weeks later. This revelation meant I was on a roller coaster of emotion for the rest of my life, unless one of two things happened. Either an increase in regularity of injections, dismissed by the doctor because of the "Aggression factor", or implants which were unavailable. He agreed to double his efforts to find implants. In the meantime, I remained on the four weekly cycle. It was then it struck me, how closely my condition was bringing me to what women experience from pubescence. A MONTHLY CYCLE!