Last summer, I became a participant in a covert drugs deal. I have never considered doing anything illegal, but I was desperate. This is how it happened.
I was on a weekend away with friends, some of whom were women in their forties and fifties. I discovered that one friend, who lives an ex-pat life in a Middle Eastern country with fantastic private healthcare, had recently been given testosterone gel as part of her HRT medication. She had noticed a sharp and very welcome improvement. She reported feeling more alert, less forgetful, more able to get up off the sofa and be active and less likely to anxiously sweat the small stuff.
I was fascinated. I had been on HRT (oestrogen and progesterone) for about six months, but I still felt terrible. Pre–menopause, I was full of energy. I trained twice a week at a martial arts club and went to regular boot camps and boxing classes. Now, even with HRT, I was often in pain, exhausted and unable to focus. I’d find myself procrastinating for hours.
As we were packing at the end of the weekend, my friend took pity on me. ‘Here,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve got a spare.’ She slipped a tiny silver package into my palm. ‘Testosterone gel, 50mg, should last you a good few weeks.’
‘How do I take it?’
‘You squeeze out a pea-sized lump every day and just rub it on to your thigh.’
I wanted to be sure that a small amount wouldn’t land me in hospital or with an unexpected beard
At home, it took me a while to be bold enough to snip open the illicit packet. I wanted to do some research first and be sure that trying a small amount wouldn’t land me in hospital or with an unexpected beard.
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