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Friday, January 2nd, 2004
- I saw the...
...dentist on Wednesday morning (they finally returned my call) for the toothache I wrote about in my last entry. As it turns out, it does involve a tooth that was filled but the tooth had not had a root canal as I wrote. With all the work I had done on my teeth in the last ten months I get lost. But now the tooth does require a root canal. So on Wednesday the dentist just kind of opened.... well, I am not going to get gross, let's just say that he prepared it for a root canal to be done next Friday and sent me on my way with a script for antibiotics, vicodin and more valium.
So, that is how I ended my year. Toothache, root canal and then about eight PM on New Years Eve two times throwing up everything I had eaten because the pills were a little much on my system, as was I imagine the stress of a toothache for two days. I fell asleep on the couch at ten PM and that is all the Clock Strikes Twelve Midnight New Year No Kisses For Trish Celebration Lady wrote.
But at least...... no toothache and Trish the scared shitless of the dentist person took care of business this time.
On Monday I am going to call my GRS surgeon's office to let them know about the medications that I am now taking for the tooth. I was on Tuesday supposed to stop taking most everything with the exception of my hormones in preparation for surgery Dang. I will find out if all is well in that department.
On Friday I received a statement from my surgeons office; I am all paid up. Now all I have to do is show up.
As I had written in my Transition Diary an entry or two back, I refilled my estradiol (estrogen) but not the spironolactone ('testosterone blocker') as after surgery I do not think I will be taking it anymore. However, I only had enough spiro left to last until I am supposed to stop taking it if I cut down to half, so on Sunday I started taking 100 mgs instead of 200. That will carry me thorough to next Wednesday January 7th when I stop taking all hormones. I know all of this is confusing. It is confusing the heck out of me too.
A few days ago I also received in the mail from my surgeon's office some prescriptions and a list of over the counter medications and supplies that I must purchase to take with me to surgery. I will fill them all in the next week or so.
Christmas was really nice. My son was here for a week. Once again we did not do all that much but having him here with me was all that mattered. On the day after Christmas his mother and her girlfriend drove down to spend the evening and stayed overnight. We spent the night talking and we watched Walt Disney's Freaky Friday on DVD. And all the while I was smelling so good as my supply of Obsession® had been replenished thank you very much Santa.
Then there was that Christmas surprise. The one that warmed my heart and reminded me that, well, stuff that I cannot really put into words. It is just a feeling, a warm warm feeling and that is all I am going to write because my writing cannot do my feelings justice. It is just important for me to say, that I never in a million years thought I would have this in my life. Thank you. As I and many others have written before, prepare to lose everything when you transition, but it is not written in stone that you are going to, and if you are really lucky, you won't.
Day ninety-eight without a cigarette. Arg. I have gained about ten pounds. I am averaging 140 pounds. This depresses me to no end and I am trying not to think about it too much other then when I am eating or when I am weighing myself. And I am not eating all that much. My eating habits have not really changed since I quit smoking. If I have to, I will starve myself. I weigh myself without clothes on, on an expensive scale that I bought a few years back and I do it every time I take a shower.
At my surgeons? At my surgery date? I just want to be left alone. I just want to have it and get out of there and pretend the best I can that for the most part the whole thing never happened. I want it to be a non-issue. I just want to have surgery, do what I need to do and get on with it. Just be left alone. I checked off the little box that says that I do not wish to see anybody or have any visitors. I just wish to be left alone.
I think that is all for today so I am going to close because I am floating on vicodin and this time around it is making me nauseous.
You see that erection count down there? Below this? Yeah...
With any luck, in a little over a month I will be taking that whole line out.
Who ever heard of a person without a penis having an erection.
Glory be.
Trish
Trish's Current HRT Statistics (01/02/04):
Hormone Regiment: 12 mgs estradiol and 100 mgs spironolactone once a day.
Emotions: Up down and all around babee. I want a cigarette.
Breasts: Still sore at times. Growth? Maybe a little with the no smoking weight gain. Argin A.
Hips, Thighs and Bottom: Nope.
Body Hair: It really does seem that I can go for quite a while now without shaving my legs. It is difficult to remember how it used to be, but I do remember having to shave them twice a day if I was going to be wearing a skirt out. Now? Once a week it seems.
Skin: Nothing.
Erection Count: Discontinued for now... Since December 17th, 2001.
Masturbation and Sexual Desire: Mostly discontinued for now... Since December 17th, 2001.
Trish Bottom Line: Just trying to hang in there and take care of business.
Sunday, January 4th, 2004
- No big...
...whoop entry here. I had just forgotten to write something in my last entry. It is about the electrolysis that I am having performed above my collarbone to permanently remove the hair from my face and neck. After 3.5 years of going every week and 258 hours and 15 minutes of being pin pricked with a hot sharp cowprod(sp?), I am now not supposed to shave at all in-between appointments. When I first started going, I could shave on the day of the appointment and there would still be a face full of hair for her to get. Then it got to the point where I could only shave the day before the appointment , then eventually two days before, then three days and so on and so on. Now? I cannot shave at all in-between appointments.
"Hey, cool Trish. You are almost finished."
Not so fast there Butchie Boy.Sure, it is good and all, BUT..... What you cannot see, you can feel. My face and neck feel far from finished. My face feels good for about two days and then, bam.... hair city. It is not the end of the world of course, but unless you have been in these shoes you cannot really understand it. When you feel like a woman with a beard it can play hell on your outlook for a few days a week. Don't want to go anywhere. Don't want to see anybody.
Anyway, tomorrow is my birthday. I would like to go out and do something. What, I don't know. Maybe just go window shopping or something. And I am pretty darn sure if tomorrow is anything like the recent past has been, even though I have not shaved for five days, I seem to have mostly little to no problem being seen as female even if I wear no makeup.
AndIstilldon'tknowhowthatispossibleknockonheavydutyeffinwood.
But... *I* can feel the hair, and *I* can see the hair and it just feels like dirt on my face. No huge worries. I am just saying, I ain't finished yet. I wouldn't be surprised if I needed another hundred hours of electrolysis.
...and when my face is finished, if I ever have more money in my life, I move below my collarbone. Without that, I will maybe never have a good intimate relationship. And I am really starting to want one... badly. As I have said semi-recently, not really a relationship, just "relations". A good and nice one of course.
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,
happy birthday dear Tri-ish...
Shuuuuuuut-UP. I don't want to hear about it.
I am serious, I don't want to hear about it.
Trish
Monday, January 5th, 2004
- I had a bit...
...of a crying 'outburst' today. No, it has nothing to do with today being my birthday. It has in part to do with some stress I am under, but the gist of that stress I am not going to write about. If it gets really important, then write about it I will.
I talked the crying thing over a little bit with an online friend today. That made me feel a little better. I had told her that I was on my bed putting on my shoes after showering that it hit me, but I just remembered that when it actually happened I had been just out of the shower and sitting naked on the toilet. If anybody had been home they would have thought for sure that somebody was dying in there by the sobs I was emitting. I couldn't help it. So now I have a headache and fucked up eyes.
I am trying so hard to focus on the right things. I am trying really hard to follow the plan that my therapist and I had worked out at my last appointment. I only have one more appointment with him between now and surgery(GRS) and I am really wishing that there was another one. I am trying really hard. If it gets freaky, I will call him.
I called my surgeons office today to ask a few questions, to make sure that the medications I was taking for this emergency dental work would not conflict with my upcoming surgery. All is good. No worries there. So I can have the rest of that root canal this coming Friday with joy in my heart.
I am sure that things are going to be okay.
Now, I gotta try and find something festive to do today.
Trish
Saturday, January 10th, 2004
- I had the rest...
...of the root canal performed yesterday. It was not bad at all. The initial novocaine injection was painful, but other then that not bad at all. I think that all the electrolysis that I have had performed has in a small way helped me to deal with the pain. Next Thursday I go in to be fitted for a crown for that tooth.
I am a little sore today, but nothing the vicodin cannot take care of.
On Thursday I filled the prescriptions and purchased all the over the counter medications that are on a list sent to me by my GRS surgeon's office. So I am all set to go. Oh, except for one more thing I need to buy; the infamous donut cushion used to sit on after some types of surgery or for hemorrhoids or some such stuff. Eeek. But anyhow, after the donut, I am set.
I remember saying to people, "Yeah, but you are doing it for a damn good reason! If this ain't a good reason, I sure don't know what is!" Now I find myself on the other side of the fence. Now *I* am the one who has stopped taking their hormones in preparation for Gender Reassignment Surgery. Tuesday was the last day I took them. So far I feel okay. No bitchiness, no moodiness (none out of the norm anyway). I hope it doesn't get "interesting". This is the first time in three and a half years that I have not taken hormones every single day. These three weeks of unhormonanizing myself are for a good reason.
On Wednesday I had the last genital electrolysis that I can have before surgery. So at nine hours and twenty minutes of genital electrolysis, I am ready. Fortunately as it turns out I did not have all that much hair that needed removal. I am glad too, because it is not all that pleasant. The whole procedure is not very pleasant. Oh it could have been much worse, but it is not fun, period. One chapter closes.
I am so excited about surgery that I can barely contain myself. I have to constantly put it out of my mind or I will not even be able to sleep. The thought of it I wondrous to me. The words "after all these years" keeps running through my mind...
I know that to somebody who has had their surgery years ago, that last paragraph sounds romantic and stupid, and someday I hope it sounds that way to me too.
Day one hundred and six without a cigarette.
I want to watch Gone With The Wind, and I am going to.
Trish
Saturday, January 17th, 2004
- Man oh man oh...
...man oh. I stopped taking my hormones in preparation for surgery eleven days ago and let me tell ya, it is pretty "different". I am having hot flashes up the ying yang and....
"Um Trish?"
What, I'm talkin here...
"What is a ying yang."
Well, in this instance it is a butt.
"Oh."...and headaches and very restless nights sleepwise. The hot flashes wake me up all night long. I have been wearing just a short T-shirt to bed at night and I am freezing cold when I first get under the covers, and then I wake up and I am throwing all my blankets off of me, then I start to freeze again, so I cover up, fall asleep and repeat.... Just like shampoo instructions.
For a few days my entire body was one big knot. At this point I am pretty much still just having the hot flashes and headaches. I am not complaining here. I have stopped Hormone Replacement Therapy for a very good reason. I am not complaining at all. I am just relating what it is that I am experiencing as one who has been on HRT for three and a half years and who stops it cold turkey. This whole process of preparing for surgery is wonderful, and scary, and wonderful... and damn scary.... Oh, and wonderful.
And speaking of preparing for surgery, I purchased and I am now the proud owner of an infamous "donut". The donut is used to sit on to lessen pressure on certain body parts after surgery or for hemorrhoids or some such thing (as I wrote in my last entry). And hotel reservations have now been made for the days proceeding my hospital stay. So I am now all set. I have everything that is required for surgery.
Tuesday of this last week, a nurse from my surgeon's office called to confirm that I had indeed quit smoking cigarettes. I told her, "Yes, I quit on September 27th of last year and it SUCKS."
Hot flash break. Wo.
*fans self with ball cap*But anyway, she was happy to hear that I had quit cigarettes and said to me, "We will be seeing you in a very short time and we are anxious to have you here." I said "Thanks" as I thought to myself, "Not half as anxious as I am to get there, get this shit over with and get back home." I know that there will be more to it then that, especially emotionally. With any luck, I will be looking back on my surgery experience with joy and probably a certain amount of tears. But I just want to get on with life. I know that I will most likely have some "postpartum", but I don't want to.
This is day one hundred and thirteen without a cigarette.
I masturbated. I think it was last Saturday or something. It was lousy. And that is all she wrote in that department. I will never again masturbate employing Mr. Ugly as the vehicle to Pleasureville. The last time Mr. Ugly orgasms. And if by way of GRS I become non-responsive sexually, then that will be the last time my body experiences pleasure in that way ever, for life. Will I care? My instincts are to say, "Not on your life, not if Mr. Ugly is gone." Will I really care? Time will tell. But I really do not think that I will. I would rather feel whole then orgasmic. I just have to go with what I think I know. It is not really even an issue. But anyway, that was the last orgasm. Forever? Who knows.
And I did not masturbate so I could one last time before Mr. Ugly becomes "non-accessible". I did it for one uncomplicated reason: I all of a sudden got very aroused.
Thursday I had the dentist appointment for that crown fitting. Man, that hurt. Two and a half hours in the chair. I now have a temporary crown. They are rushing the permanent crown for me because they know that I must leave for surgery soon. So I have an appointment for this coming Thursday for the permanent crown unless the lab cannot make it soon enough. Then it will just have to wait until I get back. I never ever thought I would say this, but I love my dentist, and all of the staff.
Next Friday I have my last therapy appointment and my last electrolysis appointment before surgery. I have not shaved since Wednesday before last (11 days ago) and I cannot shave again until next Friday. Theoretically, I am never supposed to shave my face again, but I will be missing some electrolysis appointments for a few(?) weeks for surgery so I will be able/need to shave a bit.
A few weeks ago, maybe even months ago I was out at the store just kind of looking around and I looked up, and I mean looked up, and up, and up and up to this very tall person standing just a few feet away from me. I am pretty doggoned sure that this person was a male to female something. Did I give them the wink and the nod? Nope. Did I look at them in anticipation that they would recognize me as same and wait for the secret tranny handshake? Nope. What did I do? I discreetly turned away fast and high-tailed it as far from that person as I could get.
"Not very friendly Trish. Why did you do that? Where's the love. Where's the support. Where's the camaraderie, the sistahood."
You just don't get it, do you.
"Get what."I have been lucky enough to have no problems (that I am aware of) getting along in the world being perceived as female so far. And the very tall person I came across can hopefully say the same thing. But put us together? It is going to be Read City. A person who has no problems alone can have real problems when in a group of male to female whatevers. In a group of male to females, even genetic (born) females are "read" as male. So by staying away from each other we are doing ourselves a huge favor.
"That is kind of a bummer, Trish,"
Why yes, yes it is. Oh well.So I never give the wink and a nod if I see somebody I suspect is male to female anything. It is bad form.
There is also another reason to not give the wink and nod and motion for the secret tranny handshake. You would be in essence announcing to that person that, "Hey buddy, you are not passing as female for shit." That is a whole nuther subject that I am not going to get into, one that is just plain bad etiquette if nothing else.
There is much more to the following, but I cannot write about it all. It warrants it's own diary:
My mom for the last three or four years has been a volunteer in a program whereas she is assigned an older person to visit from time to time. The person who she was assigned to is named Ida. Ida is a woman who is in a nursing home. My mom goes to see Ida usually once, sometimes twice a week. They move Ida on occasion to a different home and she gets further and further away from my mom's house, but my mom never stops going. My mom loves Ida. Among Ida's loves are hard candy. My mom always makes sure that Ida has some. My mom loves to make Ida happy and loves to see her smile. Hard candy is the least of what my mom brings to Ida's life and Ida brings much to my moms life as well.On January 5th, I was watching TV and my mom was on the phone. I was laughing at some sitcom when my mom came around, tears in her eyes and said, "Ida has died." "I'm so sorry, mom" I said as I got up to hold her and to hug her. Ida was one hundred and four years old and it was just time. My mom had seen her just a few days before and her last memory of Ida was of her laughing as my mom told her to "leave all the guys there alone". Ida, I thank you for bringing my mom the joy you did. My mom will miss you, and although I never met you, I will miss you too. And mom, you done good, you done real good. I am so proud to have you as my mom.
Look up onehelluvawoman in the dictionary and my mom's picture is right there, probably next to a few other mom pictures, but my mom's picture is right there at the top.
This Transition Diary entry is dedicated to Ida and my Mom.
Trish
Wednesday, January21st, 2004
- It is one AM in...
...the morning and I am having hot flash after hot flash and I have had a rat of a headache all day long so I am going to list the contents of my now getting kind of old purse just for WTF's sake. But let me say right off that the picture of it here makes my purse look a lot worse for wear then it is. I like this purse.
Let's start our Tour O' Der Purse then, shall we?
"Oh jeez Trish, if you end this with '...and now Ladies and Gentlemen, the most dangerous part of our journey: civilization' I will..."
You'll what...
"Nothing."
Fine then, tour time. C'mon, it'll be fun.First we have the Front Pocket. Now the Front Pocket on my purse is never zipped shut. That is because I am obsessive about my hand lotion and that is where I keep the one that I use the most, and I mean just about every five minutes. And it is a great conversation piece, the unzipped Front Pocket. "Ma'am, psssssst, yer thing is not closed." I get that all the time. Thanks. The lotion that I have in that pocket is cheap stuff that I buy in large bottles and keep in a little plastic thing that I bought at the drug store. I am constantly refilling it.
Also in that Front Pocket is a Wet 'n' Wild® Vanilla lipgloss, a Caboodles® orange sparkly stickier then hell lipgloss, and a Caboodles® brilliant á lévres lipgloss. I suppose I use everything in that Front Pocket way too much. Oh well. You only live once. That little thing you see hanging off the zipper is an engraved silver western boot with a gold "T" on it that I bought at a gun show some years back. It is for the Dale Evans in me.
In the Other Front Pocket I have my yearly date book, a must have. I have had a date book pretty much every year for 30 years now. They are indispensable once you start using one. I also have my small MOLESKINE© notebook for taking down notes and writing thoughts as they come to me. That is not as rare of an occurance as it might seem. I use this notebook a lot for jotting down what it is I wish to discuss at my therapy appointments and such. Just pretty much anything I do not want to forget. It is somewhat of a diary in itself. Sitting next to those two articles is a small (real small only can read with my reading glasses small) telephone book. And something else that I have in there is a Greenleaf Scented Envelope Sacher parfumé. I bought it at Hallmark and it makes everything in my purse smell so nice. And rounding all that off is a Pocket Pack of Kleenex® facial tissues. Cool, huh?
Now we get to some meat, babee.... The First Big Compartment. Yeeee-HAW! The first thing I see when I look in there is a cell phone and two pens. Yes I have a cell phone and no I am not rich. I have had this phone for five years and it weighs a ton. I got the service plan that long ago. It is a good one and I have struggled to keep it paid for over the last few years. Next up in this compartment, another Greenleaf Scented Envelope Sacher parfumé, one cannot get enough of a good thing. I also have another hand lotion, this time a Bath & Body Works® moisturizing hand lotion in what else? Warm Vanilla Sugar. Yeah babee. As I dive down deeper I pass a wide (very wide) tooth comb, an emery board, a Revlon® (one of them there radical enough ones to file your way out of a jail cell) nail file, and a plastic camping fork. Yeah, a camping fork. Have you ever ordered at a fast food drive-thru place and they forget to give you one and you have to get out of your car, go into the dang place, probably stand in line, then ask for a fork all the while your food is getting cold and your temper is getting hot? Not me brootha, I gots a fork. Okay, so it hardly ever happens, but it happens. I also have my all important reading glasses in a hard case. One last thing in... wait.....
Hot Flash Break Oh man.... Okay, one last thing in the First Big Compartment; an empty vicodin bottle to refill after my dental appointment on Thursday.
And now Ladies and Gentleman,
"Uh-oh... Here it comes..."
........the Second Big Compartment."Holy I am so excited, Batman!"
You suck.First I have my keys. I have a keychain fetish, for reals. Maybe it is the bird in me. I just love little shiny things on a chain. My keychain has all kinds of stuff on it and weighs ten pounds. It only has about 4 keys. Remember, I am divorced and have nothing much that requires locking up anymore. I also have a calculator down there because I am arithmetically illiterate to the bone. When I dig down a little deeper I see that I have a..... eeew... let's toss that.... um....a little deeper I find a small plastic bottle that has Tylenol®, aspirin and Alieve® in it. And down in the veeeeeeerrrrrryyyyyyy corner is a teeny like rosewood box with a sliding top. It has a ladybug and a little heart etched on it. A friend gave it to me as a gift because she knows that I love little boxes. I keep a couple of spare earrings in it but I am pretty sure that it was made to keep like hashish or buds or something in. How I know that is a mystery to me, uh-huh.
Last but not least in the Second Big Compartment is my wallet/checkbook. It is one of those combo kinds that holds everything but your hand. I have my checks, credit cards, drivers license, pictures of my kid and stuff like that in there. It is fat and takes up the rest of the room in that compartment.
OMG! What do we have here?!? A Little Zippered Pocket! Every single purse on earth has a Little Zippered Pocket. And in mine is..... several hair ties for those pony tail days, a small Victorinox® Swiss Army pocket knife (When you're a Jet you're a Jet all the way), a little LED flashlight and a small tape measure that used to be used a lot more when I could not use the fitting rooms when buying clothes. Hmmmm... What's this? A couple of those new fangled Cool Mint Listerine® PocketPaks breath strips. They rock. Here's a Bic® disposable lighter mostly used now to prime eyeliner pencils (now that I quit smoking). This lighter has memories for me and I try to make it last. It is the lighter that I had with me when I went to my friends house the very first time I "came out". It has sentimental value. Oh look, a little dental floss thing and a quarter and a dime for emergencies; I never know when I night need to take a taxi or something. And now we say good-bye to our friend the Little Zippered Pocket and continue along on our journey....
Next stop.... The Rear Compartment!
Makeup time. Unfortunately, I am not confident enough to be without quite a bit of makeup at all times. I have to have it with me. I am pretty sure that at this point I do not need as much as I carry around, but I do for now carry it anyway. I have liquid foundation, sponges, eyeliner pencil, mascara, a couple of lipsticks, pressed powder and small brush and my Wet 'n' Wild... DAMN....
Hot Flash Break ...and my Wet 'n' Wild sparkly strawberry smelling lip gloss stuff. I love that stuff... The word yummy comes to mind. Anyway, that is a lot of makeup to be carrying around and one day, soon, I will ditch a lot of it.
So anyway, that is the gist of what is in my purse at the moment. The contents change with the seasons and oftentimes with my mood or manner of dress.
"That was more fun then I thought it would be, Trish."
You lie.
I fleet, I float, I fleetly flee I fly...
The sun... has gone... to bed and so must I...
So long...farewell...auf weidersehen goodbye...
Sound of Music
Sunday, January25th, 2004
- On Friday I had my last...
...electrolysis appointment and my last therapy session before my upcoming surgery. Both were emotional. I made sure to let them both know, in my own way how much each of them has meant to me, letting them know just how much I appreciate the way they have stood by me through thick and thin even providing their services to me at no cost or on credit when I was at a low point. .....everything else aside, letting them know how much they mean to me personally. So if I do not come back, they know.
My next electrolysis appointment is scheduled for Wednesday March 3rd. My next therapy appointment is scheduled for Friday February 20th as is the next appointment with my endocrinologist.
I am trying not to think about my surgery which is scheduled for just a few days from now. I would like to think about it, enjoy it, revel in it, but there is no good reason to as it is extremely bad karma.
I picked up a few last minute odds and ends yesterday that I might need. Mostly toiletries. Whoop.
The hot flashes are persisting and are really getting annoying now. I cannot wait to get back on estrogen. I cannot even sleep very long before they wake me up. It has been like this for days. Not really complaining, I am lucky, I just want to have my estrogen back.
Thursday I went to have the permanent crown put in, on the tooth that I had the recent root canal in. That hurt, and it still hurts. Oh well, it will heal. You know what the really neat part of the visit was? The staff at the dentist, or at least quite a few of the staff, the girls there, they took it upon themselves to give me a little surgery going away gift. Each person chose one of their favorite cosmetics and bought one for me. They gave me two magazines to read and... and... AND... a teddy bear... Now they didn't even know that I have animal friends like no tomorrow so this was really cool. The whole thing in a purdy bag with a wonderful card and a hug from each one of them. Now is that nice, or what. Told ya. I love it at my dentists office. Those girls are very nice to me. Each one of them special in their own way. I love em. That office has made a huge difference in my life.
Today I got dressed bright and early and went to the mega-mall. I thought that maybe I would see what movies were playing in the mega-theater and maybe do some mega-window shopping while waiting for a mega-movie to start and then seeing one of them thar mega-movies, just to kill some time, to kill a day. Well, I drove to the mall (and that is no short drive), I parked and walked inside and just said, "Fuck this." I bought a Diet Coke®, sat and drank it, and then drove back home. My mind is just not..... I don't know...
This is day one hundred twenty one without cigarettes.
I have not eaten in two days.
I m not going to drink or take any, but I am dying for alcohol or some drugs, more so now then I have ever craved them in seven and a half years.
I am just going to leave this entry as is, I have no patience for anything. I could never say all that I want to say and I don't want to say everything I can say. This is not my "best day ever".
This is nothing like I thought it would be, just like everything else in transition. I am not knowing how I should feel or what emotion I should let take over. It is all good, just very confusing. I want a landmark Transition Diary entry here, seeing as I am finally getting to where I want to be, but I am afraid that a landmark entry just ain't gonna happen.
I will be packing tomorrow to leave. If I have a few minutes and there is anything to write here, I will.... Otherwise, it is arrivederci babee.
Well, say something.
"What?"
I may never be coming back here again and all you can say is what?
'Okay, well, I... lov... uh.. care for you, Trish."
Yeah, right... Well, it's the thought that counts. See ya's.
Okay, I guess I am thinking about my upcoming
surgery a whole lot afterall, I am just trying not to.
Trish
Monday, January 26th, 2004
- Welp, I am as...
...packed and ready as I am ever going to be. I will be leaving for Gender Reassignment Surgery very early tomorrow morning. I have no time to write anything else really.
My emotions? Just like a spilled Diet Coke® on a bumpy car ride to a location you cannot find; all over the map.
Thank you, Julie. Yer the one babee.
I will fill in all the gaps when I return.
And as I have written once or twice before, I will see you one the other side.
A thankful, hopeful and frightened,
Trish-Marie
Tuesday, February 10th, 2004
- Oh man...
...the other side. Cool.
On Thursday, January 29th 2004 at 7:30 a.m., I had vaginoplasty surgery performed by Dr. Toby R. Meltzer, M.D. in Scottsdale, Arizona.
All seems to be well with only one minor (resolved) physical complication and I arrived back home today.
I will of course have more to write when I have settled in a bit and have unpacked.
A thankful, sore, emotional and pretty damn happy,
Trish-Marie"Wait wait wait... Stop the presses... Hold the horses... Take the bacon off the stove..."
Oh hi... What...
"You just had vaginoplasty performed by one of the most fantastic specialists out there and you are just 'pretty happy'?"
Effin A babee.... Okay then, small correction: I am rockin and rollin in a big way, a bit gingerly for now, of course.
Friday, February 13th, 2004
- I am going...
...to update my Transition Diary a little more soon. Arizona was beautiful. Dr. Toby Meltzer, his entire staff, the hospital and all the nurses rocked. Sedona Arizona was so nice to visit. All is good. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things.
This is day 140 without a cigarette.
Surgery site maintenance for the first month or two is quite high and takes a few hours out of the day. Juggling the schedule is sometimes difficult. Briefly, one of the procedures I must perform is called "dilation". At this time it involves an object called a "stent". The stents come in all different sizes from smaller to progressively larger in diameter. The shape resembles a vibrator (you know what I mean) of sorts and the ones that I have are clear and I guess made of Plexiglas or something.
At this point, dilation involves inserting a stent into the surgical site (you know what I mean) and basically keeping it in there for fifteen minutes, four times a day. When one diameter is relatively easy to use, I will move up to the next larger diameter. That is as graphic as I am going to get. Among other things, dilation is performed to keep the new vagina from collapsing and to retain the depth that the surgeon was able to create. The dilation schedule changes over time and the need for it lessens over the months, but never ends.
Anyway, that alone is keeping me real busy and it is not very pleasant. As I lay there doing it, I keep waiting for somebody to come along and say, "Hey! Trish! Do you know that one day this is going to kick ass!" because at this time, it is not kicking ass.
One of Dr. Meltzers nurses called me yesterday to see how things are going. They will be in touch periodically.
On a side note, I had/have no stitches in my abdomen. Dr Meltzer's procedure usually involves stitches there. I am not sure exactly what he did, but he said that I was stitched on the inside instead of the outside and that I was his very first patient to ever receive this method. The morning before I left Arizona, Dr. Meltzer told me that he had performed this type of procedure on four or five (he was specific, I was still in space) more patients, but Trish was number one babee. Kind of cool and something to remember.
I now have the forms that are needed to change the "M" on my drivers license to "F" and to change my birth certificate to reflect "female". I will be looking forward to doing that stuff soon. I have been so involved with this surgery business that I keep forgetting about all the really great things that are going to come from it.
"Earth to Trish. Earth to Trish."
Hey, I'm cool. I know that there are struggles ahead.
"Okay, and of course I will always be here to help you to remember that."
I know.
"I know that you know."
I know that you know that I know.
"I know that you know that I know that you know."
Oh man...I have been crying off and on. I am sick of crying. But it is not "The Candidate Syndrome" and it has been tapering off. It is not a sad thing, it is a good thing. I remember crying a lot after my first time out "as Trish". I remember crying a lot after the weekend at Disneyland for my son's 16th birthday. I am just that way I guess. But the crying, I just wanted to make sure I put it in my diary. Don't anybody drop a hat, the shit will start again.
I am still trying to figure out just how I in my Transition Diary will work with the vaginoplasty thing. I mean, I had rhinoplasty but I did not go into details about it. I just wrote that I was going to have it done, then when it was over I said "It is done" and I moved on. Well, there was a little more then that probably, but not that much more. I think I will handle the vaginoplasty this way also, not sure yet.
I'm still very sore and swollen and just kind of hanging around. I am not spending much time on my computer because sitting here is kind of a pain. I have an endocrinologist appointment (which I really would not mind canceling at all) and a therapy appointment for next Friday. I want to go to therapy a LOT. I am hoping that one week from now, my body will allow me to make the long drive there. I am going to play it by ear.
I will write more soon. I will probably write of my catheter adventure. Man, was that ever fun. Those poor nurses at the hospital; bless them, bless them bigtime. For me it was very traumatic, for the nurses maybe routine, but for me it was scary. Yeah, when I can sit a bit longer, I will write of it.
I miss my son like crazy. I miss him so much.
Dang nabbit, somebody done dropped that there hat.
Good stuff, lotsa good stuff.
Trish-Marie
Tuesday, February 24th, 2004
- Once again, I will...
...update my Transition Diary a little more soon. My butt is really whooped and updating my diary is just not happening right now. There is not much going on except healing (knock on wood) anyway. I am not going anyplace or doing anything. It is just day to day. But I will tell you what, there is no way that I could be returning to work in a few days. Thursday will be a month since my surgery and it would still be too soon. Returning to my normal activities at this point, three weeks and five days after surgery, is dang slow going. This is taking a long time.
This is day 151 without a cigarette. I could smoke now if I wanted to, and man, do I ever want to smoke, but I can't bring myself to do it, but I sure want to.
So far I have not really been able to appreciate that I have had GRS. Mr. Ugly the penis is gone, and that is beyond rockin and rollin, but I am still far from where I will be (knock on wood) aesthetically and I am physically still sore all the time. I mean still "difficult to sit and even wear pants or move around too much" sore. It is kind of frustrating. It would be really nice to not be aware of my crotch for about five minutes. I have read of others surgeries with the same surgeon and it seems by now that they are back to lumberjacking in two hundred foot trees. Not me. Just looking at a tree makes my crotch ache.
My abdomen and mons are still very swollen and tender to the touch. My suture sites (lots of stitches) sting and hurt to touch also. The swelling makes everything more difficult as you can imagine. Dilating four times a day just seems to aggravate it all, kinda like, "Oh yeah? Ya think yer sore now? Take this buddy!" *SHOVE!* It is still not pleasant by any stretch, but I am telling you, if this swelling ever goes down, and if this pain ever goes away, you are going to be looking at one happy person. Oh yeah.
Right now it is easy to tell myself that things are not going right. It can get depressing and even a little frightening at times. It is not like my doctor is twenty minutes away and I can just zip over there for a little reassurance. It would be very easy to get frustrated, and I have. I hate this part of having surgery. I have had enough pain for a while. Electrolysis, rhinoplasty, all of this dental work I have had in the last twelve months, and now GRS. I am totally wildest dreams thankful, but I think I could use a break from the... "discomfort". Hey, I have to whine about something. I will deal with it.
And I need electro really badly right now. Really badly. My upper lip is back with vengeance. With luck, next week, on Wednesday March 3rd I will get that lectro done.
Remember this? From March 25th, 2003?
"This is my post-op candle. A few months ago a friend gave it to me, as a gift. She said, "I dunno Trish, the fragrance is pretty girlie. You might not want to burn it until after surgery." Ha. Hey, good idea. So I decided a while back that this is what I will do. After Gender Reassignment Surgery, I will go into my bedroom, light it and reflect. It will be a good time.... Just me and my Post-Op Candle." Hopefully before too too long, I will be putting match to candlewick.
Next Tuesday is the first time I will be voting in an election with my legal name Trish, and wouldn't you know it? I am so far out here in the boonies now, there is no polling place and it will be done by absentee ballot. Ha. Nice.
I have talked to my son on the phone a few times but I have not seen him since before surgery. I am still missing him a lot and need to hug him and I need to feel his hug.
I am also still in space. I will update with fun stuff when I can; more specifics about little things and my catheter adventure (cringe) which was a big deal to me, but not to anybody who works with that kind of stuff every day. Hang in there with me.
"Okay Trish."
It would sure be nice if I felt that I had written anything of value in here, but that is not the case. Maybe I will accomplish that in the future.
Welp, I am going to go do a little more relearning (is relearning a word?) my body.
Trish-Marie
Wednesday, February 25th, 2004
- Man, my...
...Transition Diary sure has been maudlin, or at the very least really subdued lately. These are supposed to be really happening party (at least in my head) days for me. For some reason though, they are not. I am the worrier I guess.
Things will rock soon. I am getting glimpses of myself and things will soon rock. Things will be rockable.
Champagne for breakfast and a Sherman in my hand. Peached up, Peached Ale, never fails.
Must have been a dream, I don't believe where I've been. Come on, let's do it again.
Do you...you, feel like I do? How'd ya feel?
Do you...you, feel like I...
Peter Frampton
Sunday, February 29th, 2004
- I know this...
...sounds harebrained, but...
So there I am, standing in the shower and I start to cry. Why? Because tonight is the Academy Awards (the night that all the movie stars of the world gather to hopefully receive awards for the work they have done in the previous year, if not in their lifetime) and I am wanting Johnny Depp to win the Best Actor Award for his work in The Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl.
Yep, ol' me standing there with conditioner in my hair crying over Johnny, wondering what he is doing today, if he is excited about tonight, etc...
This crying has got to stop, but...
...I hope he wins. He is special to me. In my mind, he is mine all mine.
See? Harebrained
Trish
Tuesday, March 2nd, 2004
- Well...
...Johnny Depp did not win the Academy Award for Best Actor, but that's okay, it is enough just to be nominated.
"Um, Trish?"
Yeah?
"You're stepping on Depp's lines."
Oh, yeah.... Sorry Johnny.I watched the Academy Awards with my Mom. We watched from 3 pm until 9:30 pm. Everything. Some days ago I had found on the Internet a list of all the nominees. The printable form had little boxes next to all of them. We could check off who we wanted to win, and also check off who actually did win. So as the show progressed, there we are checking off all of our little boxes. It was really fun. A nice evenings memory.
"Yeah, nice if you are 90."
Shush. It was cozy and warm and fun and something to do together and that is what I liked.It brings back memories. When I was a kid, The Academy Awards were held at The Santa Monica Civic Auditorium on Pico Blvd in where else but Santa Monica, right across the street from where I would years later attend High School. I spent the first ten years of my life growing up about three blocks away from the Civic and I used to ride my bike over to watch the pre-show and see the Red Carpet ceremonies up close and personal. I also used to get all the chauffeurs autographs as they would be parked up and down the streets for miles.
One time after the Academy Awards pre-show, I went back and watched the awards on television with my Mom. Just before the show ended, my mom and I ran down there and hid in the bushes right next to the exit, which was the Red Carpet Entrance earlier on in the night. So there is my Mom and I just six feet from the door behind a banana tree leaf or some such bush and all the movie stars are coming out... I remember seeing Bob Hope (the emcee) and Audrey Hepburn. My Mom loves Audrey, so she stands out to me. I have quite a few memories of more then one Academy Awards show. I also have many memories of The Santa Monica Civic, but for other times.
Anyway, back to the present.... During these days of surgery and recovery, I had lost a bit of time, memory. Things are only recently slowly coming back to me. I had told my Mom that something was bothering me, something that I could not quite figure out, but I finally did. I felt for a time and even now to some extent that I was coming off of a "using binge". I felt like I had lived another of the famous "Lost Weekends". I got clean in June of 1996 and I had not experienced this type of "loss" since then, so it was/is very freaky. I didn't/don't like it. Oh, I like getting loaded off my nut, I just don't like blackouts. I had even talked to my son for thirty minutes from the hospital, four days after surgery. I didn't discover this until my cell phone bill came. I don't remember it at all. All of this still feels like I did something wrong, but I know I didn't, so I have to stay in that.
So, here are a few things that I have slowly come to learn/remember:
The day before my surgery, Wednesday morning January 28th, during my first appointment with Dr. Meltzer.... As he was looking my body over and his nurse was standing by, he noticed my discomfort with Mr. Ugly the penis. He then said to me, "This is the last time you will have to endure this sort of an examination." And it was.
From what I am told, my surgery took three and one half hours. That would be from 7:30 am until 11:00am.
Unlike others, I really liked the compression device they had on my legs that would alternately compress one leg and then the other, over and over, constantly. When they took them off, I was disappointed.
Demerol, percocet and valium rock.
I was given my hormones to start again on Sunday, February 1st. I am taking 6 mgs of estradiol.
Dr. Meltzer's office gave me a teddy bear after surgery and my friend Nancy sent me flowers. Both are beautiful. I named my bear, Disney. Dr. Meltzer's office also gives patients a darn nice robe to wear in the hospital.
When I got back home and started to unpack, there were signs of my frenzy the day I left all over the place. When I was packing to leave I guess I was freaking and it is like I just said, "Hey! I need a bag! OH! THIS one will do!!!" And I would just remove the contents and throw them anywhere and everywhere and repack the bag. I mean I had stuff strewn all over the place. I am usually really organized when it comes to packing, Well, pretty organized anyway.
On Friday, February 6th Dr. Meltzer came in to remove my catheter, and remove my catheter he did. Even now it makes my crotch cringe to write of this. To some it is not a big deal at all. To some it is routine, but not to ME, brootha. It ain't routine to ME. It is all still kind of foggy though. After he removed the catheter, I went in to see if I could use the bathroom. I wasn't aware of urine coming out., but there was "some stuff" down there (I am not going to get graphic) and I had felt slightly relieved so I thought, "Well, I must have peed." I came out and told him that I thought all was well, and Dr. Meltzer continued on his rounds.
Come about six hours later, and LOT'S of encouraged intake of liquids, I was coming to the realization that I had not peed and I was not going to pee and all was not well. I was incapable of peeing. Oh man. I could not pee and I had to pee BADLY. Can you say major discomfort? Can you say freak out? They called Dr. Meltzer and he instructed them to recatheter me. Now, I don't know about you,
"Who."
You....but I was not sure which was worse, not being able to pee, or the thought of that tube being reinser.... well, put back in. I was scared. See? I am a scardee cat.
Everybody around me is all like, "Oh, we do this all the time" and I am like, "Please! Please! I don't want to die! Isn't that a gallows over there!?!?" Quite after the fact embarrassing actually, but what can I say. I would react the same today. So I lay there gripping Disney in one hand and the nurse's hand in my other, and the catheter is slowly put back in. It really was not all that bad and within seconds I was evacuating into the bag. Man, relief, she is a beautiful animal. All of a sudden the sky turned blue and birds chirped. Thank you Charlotte, Christina and Julie.
I was released from the hospital the next day (the nurses rejoiced), Saturday, with catheter intact and instructions to come into Dr. Meltzer's office early Monday morning to have it removed again. Oh joy.
A day or two after surgery, once my Mom knew I was going to be okay she headed back home. Then on Friday she came back to Arizona with a friend of ours and checked into a really nice hotel and that is where we went on Saturday, hospital check-out day. On Sunday we took a ride to Sedona Arizona. I am so sorry that I did not have my digital camera with me as Sedona and the ride were just beautiful. I didn't take my camera because I knew my faculties would not allow me to take care of it all week. But Sedona was so nice.
We stopped at a place called Tlaquepaque. I cannot pronounce it, but I had asked it's meaning and I was told it means "the best of the best". We went into little shops. Fun. We had a great lunch at a really Sedona Arizona mountainous restaurant place. Wonderful. This was livin. Our friend bought a little bracelet for me that supposedly has healing powers. It is magnetized or something. It is a Sedona "Vortex" thing. It is pink and cute. Yep. All the while my catheter was taped to my leg. When I needed to pee, I had to stand over the toilet, point this tube the best I could in the right direction and take a plug out of the end of it. I would automatically start evacuating and it was messy. I had to clean the damn toilet every time. It sucked.
Since it was probably obvious to anybody else in the restroom that I was standing in the stall and making really splashy messy noises, I had my "Excuse me? Excuse ME?? I have a catheter that I am using if you don't mind" speech all ready for anybody wondering why "some guy" was peeing standing up in the women's restroom. The whole thing was just really funky.
Monday morning Mom took me over to Dr. Meltzer's office and they saw me right away. I sat in the chair and one of Dr. Meltzer's nurses removed the catheter. Yikes. I had been drinking lots of liquids that morning so that I could be sure that I would need to pee. So once more, off to the restroom I went, praying along the way.
I sat down.
*tinkle*
YAY! I PEED! Thank you God. Apparently, the first time they had removed the catheter, I was still just too swollen, This is not uncommon (they say). But now I was okay. YES. I went back out into the office and let them know that all was well. They gave me some more bottled water to drink and they also gave me a catheter kit just in case I should need to have that thing stuck back in yet again in an emergency. They said that they could talk us through it over the telephone. Oh yeah, right. I hoped that it would never ever in one hundred million damn years come down to somebody telling somebody else over the telephone how to stick a tube up Trish's urethra. God save me. I still have the setup and I still knock on wood when I see it.
We had planned on leaving for home that day, but with the catheter freshly removed, we decided to spend one more night until we were pretty darn sure that my act of peeing was not a one time event. Screw Telephonic Surgery. I don't think anybody around me would have been into that either. That is probably the real reason we stayed another day. Mom is all like, "Do what???" Ha.
"Trish, only you could turn a little catheter thing into 100 paragraphs of terror."
Yeah.And with luck (knock on wood), I can put the catheter story away forever, or at least until it comes in handy for it's cringe power. Some "around the campfire" scary storytelling night or something. It ranks right up there with intravenous (IV) stories.
I believe that the necessary nerves are in place
and that sexual activity in the future will be rewarding.That last statement deserved it's own little shrine, spotlight, place in history. I still have lot's of stitches, but they started dissolving last Thursday. There are still plenty left. My mons is still totally swollen. Certain areas of my abdomen, mons and labia are still completely numb, as is the area just above my urethra. Some areas still hurt to the touch and occasionally sting even without contact. Sometimes it feels like an "Indian Burn". Remember those? Where you twist some of your skin in one direction while twisting adjacent skin in another?
Dilating is a drag. It has been a month since my first dilation and today is the last time that I must do it four times a day. Starting tomorrow, for three months I must dilate two times a day. Cutting it in half will be nicer, although still a pain, literally. I wasn't going to show this, but I feel it would help to illustrate something.
Dilation Stent 1The above photograph shows one of the "stents" that I use to dilate. Do you see the farthest to the right itty bitty blue dot? I can make it just about disappear. Nuff said. As you can see, this is not one of your everyday run of the mill softees. This baby is all bone. Unpleasant? For the most part? Yes, yes it is.
They keep saying it will get better. I have faith.
It is very interesting relearning my body. It is getting just a hair better every couple of days. It is unbelievable. More on that another time.
This is day 158 without a cigarette. Five months and five days. I cannot believe that soon it will be a half a year. Jeez. This is just proof that time does indeed fly and it is so important to live some life while there is still some life to live. Man. I gotta try and do that sometime.
If I had to, tomorrow I could probably do the required driving to my therapy and electrolysis appointments. I suspect that I would be tired and really sore at the end of it all, but I could probably do it. However, my Mom said that tomorrow she will spend the day with me, she will drive me to my appointments... and I am going to let her. Thanks Mom... I really need the electro and my therapy.
I haven't shaved my damn legs in over a month.
She says my ass hurts when I sit down.
Ani Difranco
Sunday, March 14th, 2004
- Okay now, here is...
...something that I have been really wanting to do. This usually comes at the end of my entries, but I can't wait:
Trish's Current HRT Statistics (03/14/04):
Hormone Regiment: 6 mgs estradiol. No more spironolactone required after vaginoplasty.
Emotions: Healing emotions. Frustrated at times. I want to stop being sore and swollen.
Breasts: Kinda shrunk since stopping hormones for surgery. Oh well, now they are really teeny.
Hips, Thighs and Bottom: Nope.
Body Hair: It really does seem that I can go for quite a while now without shaving my legs.
Skin: Nothing.This is the part I have been dying to update:
Erection Count: ZERO ERECTIONS BECAUSE I HAVE NO PENIS!!!! YAY YAY YAY!!!That is so cool. Ahh. No erections because I have no penis. I don't have a penis. A penis I have not. I have not a penis. Yes, I have no penis. Heh heh. Joy.
Masturbation and Sexual Desire: At this point so soon after vaginoplasty, masturbation is pretty much unthinkable. Desire is still there but way different. I will write of it soon..
Trish Bottom Line: Healing.I suppose a penis could be a really wonderful apparatus if you want it. "All hail! Make way for the mighty Penis! Stand aside naives and naivettes! The mighty Penis of Olympus has come down from on high to enlighten and enrich your sad and lonely dark lives! Touch it! Adore it! Praise the almighty Penis! Power almighty! The power of Penis compels you! The power of Penis compels you!" And with the power and grinding roar of a Mcculloch® Penis Saw you split down the center anything and everything in your path.
I guess The Penis, especially the Erect Penis has always been sort of a symbol of strength and dominance. I have heard of "penis envy". Well, I know how I feel when somebody says to me, "So you want a vagina huh? You nuts?" So I won't say, "So you want a penis huh? You nuts?" But lemmie tell ya, the first time you get a hard on and your penis starts screaming at you, "GOD DANGIT WE GOTTA FUCK SOMETHING, ANYTHING, and RIGHT NOW!!!!" you will know how much it sucks, or I don't know, maybe that is what you would want.
But that is why a lot of guys get a bad rap ya know, because they think with their testicles and penis. I have no idea who would want that. I have been there and it is not pleasant. It is not totally the guys fault, I mean they can hardly control it. But penis envy, yeah. I would never fault you for wanting to try one out, or even keep one, but you have no idea what you would be getting into.
I guess some people think that it is desirable to be the one on top, "ramming the rod", being The Boss, calling the shots, etc. I guess I can understand that a little as I desire the complete opposite. I was never good at being the Ramrod, or if I ever was, it sure didn't feel good on me. Ew.
My penis always felt to me like a wart. A wart that stuck out a bit, hanging there like an ugly deformed monkey tail and quite willing to bounce or waggle around every time the rest of me moved. DAMN I hated that. Even when I was less then happy with the rest of my body, it was still much closer to the way I wished to see myself, except for that one damn ass monkey tail. And when it was erect? Not cool.
My naked theme song was, "One Of These Things Don't Go With The Other". My unclothed life was an eternal Sesame Street song.
And like I have said before, your penis is beautiful. You are wonderful, Without you, there would be no us. I am only writing of how I felt about me with a penis. Ew. Enough.
My Mom took me to my therapy and electrolysis appointments Wednesday before last, March 3rd. Therapy was great. It was my first therapy appointment post-op. My therapist was totally happy for me and it was so good to see him again. We more or less just discussed my surgery experiences. Nothing earth shattering.
I had written that the hair on my upper lip was back with vengeance and I was not lying. Between getting the hair that had come in and getting all the little ones that you get when you are nearing the end of electrolysis, I was worked on for four hours. Four hours is a long session. As a matter of fact, it borders on grueling, but so worth it. No complaints. I am not shaving at all now and the fine hairs on my face are starting to come in, the hair that you do not remove. That gives a persons face a whole nuther texture. When you shave, you get that shiny face look going on. When you don't shave, and you don't have whiskers, you get that softer face look going on. Very cool. It also helps a person to get along better in the everyday world. My happy face is back.
This last Wednesday I stopped to see my son finally and I spent some time with him. It was so good. When it came time for me to leave, he walked me out to my car, and as we always do, we hug, tight. Only this time, when we would normally let go, I held on for more. And I held on, and on, and on.
Fortunately for me, not letting go has been alright
with him since the day he was born.Body wise my mons is still way swollen. I believe that my labia has gone down quite a bit but is nowhere close to where it will eventually be. Just to make sure that things are progressing okalee dokalee I sent to Dr. Meltzer's office four small pictures that I had taken of myself for them to look at. That was last Tuesday. I was gone all day and evening on Wednesday to electrolysis and to see my son so I did not receive the reply until Thursday. The nurses took a look at the photos and confirmed that I was indeed still quite swollen at my mons but they are very pleased with the overall healing. They suggested deep massaging of my mons, so I will do this when I dilate, twice a day for fifteen minutes at this point. They are expecting to hear back from me in a week or so. We will see how it goes. I am so tired of being swollen. But I do feel a little bit more secure reading that they think that I look okay.
Okay, those that do not wish to read of women's personal hygiene things, close your eyes....now. Closed? Okay good.
Douching. It has become a part of my life. Yes, it is necessary to douche just like any other woman to keep "the nasties" away. "Hmmm... Let me see.. The instructions that came with this here new piece of anatomy say that I will get to know when it is a good idea for me to douche. I will learn my body and what is needed and when." And that is what I am doing. Not real fun this douching thing. Perhaps I do not have the most ergonomic douching equipment on the market. It was supplied by the hospital I was in and is rather, well, let's just say that it travels well.
Oh, and I am not going to get into all of it right now, but maxi pads were a big part of my life for a time also, but I (knock on wood) now only need panty liners most of the time.
Anyway, perhaps more on this another time, I just wanted to log it in my Transition Diary.
For those of you that closed em, you can now open your eyes.
"Wo, thanks.. I can breathe again."
I said close your eyes, not hold your breath you dip.
"I was just playing it safe."
Sheesh.When we were on our way to Arizona for my surgery we were driving by some road called Wiley Wells Road or something like that and apparently there is a prison nearby. I wish I would have had my camera with me as there was a big green state sign on the side of the freeway that read:
"Such And Such State Prison next right" And right underneath it was an even larger big yellow sign that read:
"DO NOT PICK UP HITCHHIKERS" I just thought that was amusing and I am all like, "Put the pedal to the metal, Ma! Let's make tracks!" Hee hee hee ho ho ho ha ha ha.
Thursday I went to my teeth cleaning appointment. Oh man, wouldn't you know that I need another crown. However, the cash flow is bottoming out and so I am going to have a filling instead until I can afford the crown. I will have the filling done next Friday. This never ends. Fortunately, the dentist is actually enjoyable. Again, this is totally unbelievable to me. The dentist, enjoyable, I must be a freak.
Today I filled out and got all the necessary paperwork together to go to the Department of Motor Vehicles to have the "M" on my drivers license changed to "F". "F" is for female don't ya know.
"Rock on, Trish."
Party on, you.And so on Thursday I am going to go and have it done. I will probably also take care of Social Security that day too. I have no idea why, but Social Security does ask your gender on the form and I need to change that. Once that is done, it is time to tackle the birth certificate and then, I think I might be finished. But who knows. Anyway, I am really excited about getting this done. For one thing it means no more carrying papers around like I am some registered sex offender.
"I am just peeing, officer."
You are in zee vimons rest room. Let me see your papahs!
"I have them right here, officer, in my purse. Honest."
Zis vill be good den, because vithout zee papahs, you vill be placed under arrest! And you vill go to PRISON! And I assure you it is not a pritty place! You vill be forced to do vimons vork! In front of MEN! Vile you are vearing zee pritty pink panties and nussing else!!Oh shit. Hurry up Thursday. I am so happy to be coming to the end of this stuff.
This is day 170 without a cigarette for me. Five months and seventeen days. I can hardly believe it. I have not been doing too bad lately. I have not thought as much about smoking in the last week or two as I had been before that. Quitting was way easier in the first month then it was in later weeks.
I gotta go shave my legs, finally. I think I am up to that.
Trish
Tuesday, March 16th, 2004
- Every time I wake...
...in the morning and think to myself, "This will be the day that my Transition Diary comes to an end" as I did today, I realize that there will be just so much more (eventually I hope) to write about.
A new job, new friends, new places I've gone, my first post-operative orgasm, lovemaking, just all kinds of stuff. With luck, there are still so many firsts to experience and write about.
So that is that then. Today is not the day. Perhaps to my detriment, today is not the day.
The birth of a new day lives that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds,
and there upon the rainbow is the answer to our neverending story.
Giorgio Moroder and K. Forsey
