Dallas, TX – A Dallas pediatrician, once hailed as a “trusted resource” for troubled teens, has thrown in the towel on her medical career. Dr. May Lau, the UT Southwestern associate professor whose office walls likely echoed with the sobs of confused adolescents, has voluntarily surrendered her Texas medical license. This comes hot on the heels of a blistering lawsuit from Attorney General Ken Paxton, who accused her of peddling banned gender-transition drugs to at least 21 minors, all while allegedly doctoring records to dodge the law.
Let’s rewind the tape, because this isn’t just another footnote in the endless culture war skirmishes. It’s a stark reminder that in the Lone Star State, at least, the adults in the room are finally drawing a line in the sand against the medical-industrial complex’s latest fad: turning kids into lab rats for irreversible experiments.
Senate Bill 14, signed into law by Gov. Greg Abbott in 2023 and upheld by the Texas Supreme Court, couldn’t be clearer: No puberty blockers, no cross-sex hormones, no mutilating surgeries for anyone under 18 chasing a “gender identity” that clashes with their biology. It’s common-sense guardianship, rooted in the unshakeable truth that children—bless their impressionable hearts—aren’t equipped to consent to life-altering alterations pushed by activists masquerading as healers.
Paxton’s office dropped the hammer on Lau back in October 2024, filing suit in Collin County and laying out a dossier of alleged deceit that would make a Watergate operative blush. We’re talking falsified prescriptions, bogus billing codes, and medical records twisted to make testosterone shots look like treatment for anything but affirming a minor’s delusion about their sex... alleges Paxton. Paxton says over 20 kids—biological females, no less—got dosed with this controlled substance, all post-ban, in direct defiance of Texas Health & Safety Code § 161.702(3). And for good measure, Paxton tacked on claims under the Deceptive Trade Practices Act, painting Lau as a scofflaw who didn’t just break the rules; she gamed the system to keep the hormone pipeline flowing.
Lau’s professional bio paints her as the epitome of the caring clinician: A pediatric specialist at Children’s Medical Center Dallas and Plano, with a self-proclaimed mission to “guide my patients to make the best and healthiest decisions for them“—alongside their parents, naturally. Her Healthgrades profile boasts expertise in adolescent health, reproductive woes, and menstrual mysteries, and she’s even open to telehealth chats for the Zoom-generation youth. But peel back the polish, and the shine fades fast: A measly 2.7-star rating from patients, whispers of controversy, and now this. Affiliated with powerhouse institutions like UT Southwestern, Lau wielded privileges that let her roam hospital halls unchecked—until Paxton turned the spotlight.
The fallout? Swift and surgical. As the case barreled forward, Paxton inked a Rule 11 agreement with Lau, slamming the brakes on her patient-facing practice mid-litigation. No more stethoscope sessions, no more “guidance” sessions that could scar a lifetime. And now, the coup de grâce: Her license is toast, voluntarily surrendered to the Texas Medical Board, ensuring she can’t play white-coated wizard with Texas tykes ever again. The civil suit chugs on, with Paxton gunning for injunctions and fines up to $10,000 per violation—because accountability isn’t optional when you’ve potentially wrecked young bodies and psyches for ideology’s sake.
Attorney General Paxton didn’t mince words in his victory lap, and why should he? “Doctors who permanently hurt kids by giving them experimental drugs are nothing more than disturbed left-wing activists who have no business being in the medical field,” he thundered in a statement that lands like a constitutional thunderclap. “May Lau has done untold damage to children, both physically and psychologically, and the surrendering of her Texas medical license is a major victory for our state. My case against her for breaking the law will continue, and we will not relent in holding anyone who tries to ‘transition’ kids accountable.“
Spot on, Ken. This isn’t about cruelty; it’s about custody of the innocent. While the ACLU’s Harper Seldin wails that such enforcement is a “predictable and terrifying result,” trotting out the tired trope of politicians meddling between “families and their doctors,” let’s call the bluff. Families? Try ideologues greenlighting puberty blockers for preteens. Best medical judgment? More like Big Pharma’s profit playbook, subsidized by blue-state bureaucrats and cheered by coastal elites who wouldn’t dream of letting their own kids near the knife.
Lau’s capitulation isn’t isolated—it’s the latest domino in Paxton’s crusade. Just this year, he’s reined in three other Lone Star docs for similar sins, while states like Arkansas and Florida see their bans clobbered in court only to bounce back on appeal. Twenty-six states now stand athwart this madness, a federalist firewall against the transgender tide.
For constitutional conservatives, this saga sings the praises of federalism at its finest: States as laboratories of liberty, shielding the vulnerable from federal overreach and cultural contagions alike. Dr. Lau’s license loss? It’s not vengeance; it’s vindication. A win for wary parents, bewildered youth, and the unyielding biology that no amount of activism can rewrite. As Paxton presses on, one can’t help but wonder: Who’s next in the crosshairs? Because in Texas, the housecleaning has only just begun.