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Interesting Comments in Digg Article

In a recent post on Digg about a sports reporter for the LA Times, I was actually taken aback by some of the comments. Granted, you have usual array of people who fear transition and transsexuals, but a large number of the comments are quite well-informed and even supportive. The first comment, in particular, now at +79 diggs, demonstrates a much warmer reception that I would have predicted:

Seriously? This guy deserves a fucking medal.

Publicly announcing, to sports fans, that you’re going to be losing your balls and becoming a woman… well, it takes balls.

I hope the GLBT community gives him props for raising awareness.

So, in a word, thanks Digg folk!

Hopes

Whether it’s a couple hours, days, or weeks, I hope that in the quiet you find peace, gwyneth.

Post-Op Update: 21 Weeks (Or So)

Three bits of news then: 1) AgNO₃ and 2) Meeting up with an old friend and 3) Adoption.

The chemically minded among you may know that AgNO₃ is the formula for silver nitrate, the molecule used to chemically burn away granulation. Nice eh? So I went for my post-op check-up a few weeks ago, complaining of what we called “smelly cat”. Sure enough, I had some granulation that was producing a rather foul smell. Even better eh? Thankfully, it hasn’t come back as far as I can tell. The bleeding took a while to stop, but now I finally no longer have to wear pads. Hooray!

I met up with an old friend, his wife, and two of their friends last weekend. Although I didn’t know, I probably would have guessed that all of said folk, not just my friend and his wife, knew I’m trans and such. But I honestly didn’t really think about it. When said friend’s wife brought it up, it felt a bit shocking and a little annoying at first. I remember thinking, “Aw crap, do we have to deal with this now? I was having a really good time.” I ended up joke about it, trying to treat the subject light-heartedly. In hindsight, Gwyneth’s fragments from a rant drives the point home. You never stop being who you are. It’s only really the fact that we don’t like certain aspects of what we are that stings.

Along these same lines, Auntie and I needed to come out to a social worker when we went to an introductory session on adoption. We would both love a family. If anyone knows of a trans couple who have adopted, please let us know. I am hoping, though, that all the people we will need to work with to do this will have a child’s best interest at heart, rather than our past.

SRS +4 Weeks

Now two-thirds of the way through what I thought was going to be the most difficult part, the healing as been going quite well.  Actually, it’s going exceedingly well.  I haven’t had and bleeding since the first week I was home.  Dilation hasn’t been too much of a chore or all that difficult, though Auntie rubs my face in how easiy it is for her to whip her large dilator in and out.  I get my own back, though, as my bits and sex are still ‘out of bounds’ for at least two more months.  My strength has been steadily increasing as well.  Auntie and I have been taking longer and longer trips out, shopping, running errands, or just enjoying being out for a walk.  The heat has been a bit harsh of late, but the air conditioner we bought last season tempers that nicely.

Considering that many of my friends, especially those in the UK, have had complications including a prolapse, bleeding, severe pain, and the like, I feel like I am getting the golden treatment somehow.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say that the wait was worth it, but the recovery both in an out of the hospital has far exceeded my expectations.

Dialation Is So Much Better…

So I had two odd expereiences with dialation today.  The first occurred around noon.  Auntie and I had a small argument, so dialation was quite difficult.  I was almost crying at the end.

And then, by supper, we were doing much better.  We had Domino’s and then dialated together.  This later dialation was so much better!  It was a complete turn about from my first dialation at home!

So, if you are having trouble dialating, do it with a friend!

And So The Healing Begins

Auntie and I are back safe at home now.  I think she is as happy to be back home as I am, if not more so.

The past 24 hours have been a bit rough.  Dialation in my own bed, though I thought it would be much easier, turned out to be hard initially.  That bad bas been the location of such tension, at least between my legs, that I found relaxing there initially quite difficult.

Auntie commented that I don’t pull away from her anymore.  It’s true.  Her hands are now free to roam, but I no longer recoil.  Even the past few days have been wonderful in that respect.

The drive home went quite well.  We stopped once at a service station to wee.  I wished that the boy who had used it before had been a bit more on target and that the entire place had been a bit cleaner, but I don’t think I picked up anything from it.

Auntie has been a complete trooper.  She ran around to stores and such yesterday and is now off running errands again today.  What’s more, she’s been the happiest I’ve seen her in a long time.

We are coming back to ourselves and it’s wonderful.

Sing to the Glory of Toast

Ah, toast! I wouldn’t normally start off a post-op blog post on the glories of burnt bread, but it seems a particularly good place to start, as I have just had something approaching a real breakfast for the first time in last Monday. Since then, it has been clear fluids, jelly, a vile chicken broth, and etc. Oh to chew my food again! It was such a delight! Oh and I’ll get salmon for lunch!! Can you believe it!?!?!

In other matters, I seemed to make it through surgery itself well enough. I had a wee bit of bleeding the first two nights, but it’s been clear sailing since then.

I count myself lucky to be in an electric bed. It will shift up and down like most hospital beds in the US. I started off on a manual one that looked like it had been used in the Victorian age.

Visitors have been quite nice as well. Yesterday saw Ra come down on her motorbike. Ya! And the day before I met another patient of Mr Thomas’ who had her op 3 days prior. Yesterday, all the activity left me a little tired, but I am getting my strength back more and more each day.

Football. Yes, the world cup. Normally sports wouldn’t even cross my mind, but Auntie’s b&b is above a pub. As yesterday was the start of the world cup, she is quite tired, having been kept up by rowdy fans and bad kareoke until 2 am. As much asI love having her with me, I hope today is more kind to her.

This sugery has poked at old wounds as well as making new ones. Auntie and I have talked about when she was going through her surgery and how hard that was on us both. I am hoping that this time around, we will have an easier time.

We have also talked about plans for the future - things we would like to do or get, places we would like to go. We both know that post-SRS depression is likely after having to wait for such a long time to accomplish this goal, but we’ll just have to tackle that when we get there.

The nursing staff here have been quite good. Well, key staff on each shift have been excellent. Other staff have been okay, but generally I would rate the care that I have received quite highly and definately better than what Auntie received at Charing Cross.

One last bit of news then: I have already had an “Oh, wow” moment, having taken a gander downstairs when my T-bandage was being changed. I remember thinking, “It so smooth!” Odd, considering I did the shaving before surgery, but things looked a bit different then.

Oh I have also come up with a theory on the post-SRS glow that some women get. I think it’s due at least in part to the hair. The normal daily shampoo and conditioning cycle that most folk tends to strip out the oils that would normally be in out hair. If you have major surgery like this and can’t shower for days at a time, you hair gets coated with these oils. After you get cleaned up again, you hair retains its “natural shine” because you’ve only cleaned it once. The same goes for the skin around the face. Hence, the radient glow of a happy, smiling, post-SRS patient.

Anyway, I’d best sign off. Auntie has taken to sleeping on the floor and I haven’t even had my sponge bath yet. Take care all!

Out but not yet about…

Hey folks, it’s your favourite quiet Auntie. Okay, so I had to hack into W3bgrl using w3bgrl’s login to remember what the heck my password was but that’s not important…

Like me, you’re probably really happy to know that W3bgrl got through her surgery without a hitch. All went according to plan and, unlike yours truly two years earlier, she didn’t bleed heavily, didn’t have complications in the operating room, and didn’t need lots of pain meds.

I wish I could say here how happy I am to be sitting here in her comfortable hospital room typing this while w3bgrl takes it easy and starts that new part of her life.

The last three years (yup, we’ve been together now for a whole three years) have been tough on us both - especially when w3bgrl had to put off her own surgery just to live in the same country as me.

Finally her long wait is over. Now is the time for relaxation, recovery, and remembering what life is really about.

Take care folks,

W3bgrl sends her love
A.S.

We’re Off

We’re off to the hospital!  Wish us luck!

Well, You Should Say Something

I’ve been sitting here for a few minutes, wondering.  What exactly does someone say when they are about to go into hospital to get their genetalia turned into a stuffed turkey?  Best to start at home, I think.

Since starting my transition, I’ve moved my home from Chicago to Schaumburg to Fairfax to near Lincoln to Eversley to our current home near Bristol.  Couple that with how much I have spent on surgeries, medications, and the like and it’s no wonder that these have been a difficult set of years.  To be honest, I’m actually fairly surprised that I didn’t have more side effects from stress, especially when weren’t certain where we were going to get the money for my surgery.  Moving 5 times in as many years would be enough to keep someone a bit on edge and such, let alone with one of them being international.

And then there was Auntie’s surgery.  I’m in a strange country a couple of weeks and we go to one of the largest cities in the world to a completely crap hospital where the only person I really know for thousands of miles was being shuffled around, bleeding, and generally being poorly looked after by the nursing staff.  Additionally, she had further complications caused by overhealing which weren’t addressed quickly enough.  Even though I’ll be going private, issues with her surgery still frighten me.

Both Auntie and I have had to give up quite a lot to get where we are.  Houses, cars, travel, and all the trappings that might come with a fairly decent income level have been scaled back or reduced completely.  I haven’t seen my family in well over a year and half now and Auntie goes to visit hers sparingly only because they are just a few hours drive away.  But our car is okay and the house does what we need it to.  It’s visiting my family that I miss the most.

My mom and dad, especially, put up with so much from me.  When I was living near them and often over for tea and such, they very patiently put up with me obsessing about transition and its associated plans.  But I’m saving the “thank you” post until after surgery.

We have been eating well recently, shopping at the organic store and using lots of veggies and fruit.  My exercise plan didn’t push off the pounds as quickly or as far as I might have liked, but I am in much better shape than I was when I first saw Mr Thomas.  I have all my meds, including a vat of KY for when we get back.  So, all that’s left to do is pack and “get me to the church on time”.

One last hurdle.  Just one more.