Waiting on the doormat for me last night was a letter from the hospital. As promised, there in black and white and with the signature of someone with far more letters after his name than I have, conformation that yes, I do have "longstanding gender dysphoria".
It's interesting, reading about yourself in an impersonal third person. Revealing too about the system, the paragraph about my family history mentions my father's occupation but not my mother's. For those who don't know her, my mother arguably did far better in her career than my dad did, not to take away from his achievements.
Most interestingly his final paragraph confirms his decision not to refer me to the GIC, but asks to see my wife, to "get her side of the story". I can't make her go and I'll understand if she doesn't want to, but that's something new that I didn't get at the consultation.
So there it is. The official diagnosis I was looking for. My butt is now covered.