Alea iacta est, or words to that effect … Preliminaries and assessments are all done, and the surgery date is confirmed for April 11, and I will be admitted to Charing Cross Hospital the day before. Apprehensive as I am about my first ever trip to an operating theatre, prolonged stay on a hospital ward, after care, enema (time off work notwithstanding, you couldn’t easily sell this as a package holiday concept), the fact that everything has gone bizarrely well this year gives me faith. My transition is even running slightly ahead of what seemed a very optimistic Tarot reading that my friend did for me last year, which suggested I’d be “seen to” in the second half of 2018. Not to complain, if the Goddess sees fit to clear the schedule a bit early …
Tickets all booked, now just counting down the days. There will be some hard weeks ahead, but the future beyond is looking brighter than ever.
Not much to say really but the self-evident: I have been set a surgery date at the bizarrely early-seeming time of April 11, and will be coming off my hormones in only a week from now (Not especially looking forward to that, but needs must). This will be a manic month, but by June everything will be over and done with. In only three years I will have transitioned, well under the current average. I am so totally blessed, I keep wondering where the stab in the back will come from, pardon my cynicism. 😉
Thank you to all of you who have supported and encouraged me throughout this. I will probably drop off the radar briefly, but I expect to have WiFi in the hospital (and very little to do during a week on the ward), so I will certainly report on the outcome. All is looking extremely positive right now, though.
Much as I normally keep this blog apolitical, I will make an exception for this, as it strikes close to home. Recently, a group known as “Trangender Trend” (immediately setting off alarm bells) produced a rather slick-looking PDF brochure titled, rather disingenuously, “Supporting gender non-conforming and trans-identified students in schools“: disingenuously, as even a cursory read of the thing will quickly inform one that said “support” consists of discouraging children from socially transitioning at school, and promoting a scaremongering view that greater trans visibility is some sort of dread social epidemic and an intentional, ideological war designed to erase lesbian and gay identities (The author seems convinced that trans children would be better off being encouraged to grow up as gender nonconforming gay people, equating sexual preference and gender identity in a way that totally ignores the fact that trans people have as wide a variation of sexualities as cis people). As someone who was once a trans child in the 1990s, too scared to come out at that young age for knowing that there was no support or protection available, it is deeply harrowing to read such a supposedly well-intentioned work that aims to take us back to that time, just when it is becoming possible for trans children in school to be their true selves (and thus not waste many years of their lives trying to fit in with someone else’s idea of ‘normal’).
On the positive side, however, the responses I have seen to this document by actual teachers have thus far been less than impressed, and here is a particularly trenchant example …
via Transgender trend ‘School resource pack’ – A teacher’s perspective
I thought I’d given up modelling, but thanks to a few bigoted a**holes who felt the need to resurface my body image insecurites (possibly to alleviate their own sense of stupidity at having been lured into voting for Brexit) I got the urge to put out some feelers for another shoot. Modelling has always helped me to cultivate a bit more body-positivity. Eventually I connected with a local photographer (known as “Dark Side“), and we arranged a very local shoot at the industrial estate right next to where I live. We’d hoped for some more dramatic scenery, but the natural light was not on our side (which serves us right for arranging this in January). Still, I’m not displeased, and if nothing else it was a chance to work on my future “cabaret” image assuming I stick with the burlesque dancing (which I fully intend to, as long as I don’t make a complete fiasco of my first performance … here’s hoping).
Last week, not expecting to hear anything so early, I received a letter from Charing Cross Hospital with the details of my first outpatient appointment with them on the 20th of February. Annoyingly, that is the day of a dance class, so I stand a fair chance of missing it (and even if I don’t, I will likely be so stiff and knackered after three hours on the National Express that gracefulness will be an even more alien concept than usual).
Excitingly, though, this seems to bear out what I have heard before; that once one is through the Gender Identity Clinic and into the hospital, meeting the surgeons, things start to move a lot more quickly. 2018 could finally be the year I draw a line under this and reach that point that seemed so impossible three years ago … and three years is not an unusually long wait in this field, alas. The hubby, unfortunately, still has another GIC appointment to go later this year, but expects to be referred for surgery at that point, so hopefully he will find it the same … and hopefully our operations won’t synchronise so perfectly that both of us will be convalescing at the same time, as it would be jolly useful for each of us that other was fit and healthy during our recovery period. Still, I’ve known people get through this completely alone, so we consider ourselves very lucky to have each other as support.
It is a bit ironic, in the very year that I have taken up dancing again (and am obsessively enjoying it) that I may end up having to take a huge hiatus from physical activity. Still, I knew that was a risk, and I do fear I have often put things back “until after surgery” without having any clear idea of how long that would mean putting my life on hold. Life is too short to be put on hold, whatever our long-term hopes may be. At worst, I may have to resign myself to losing a few of the classes I paid for, but I’ll still be able to come back to it in good time … not to mention with a happier relationship with the body that will, after all, have to do all of this dancing. Better that it feels as appreciated as possible …
It is testimony to how long the process of transition on the NHS is that I have posted nothing on trans matters for months now, even though that is ostensibly the whole purpose of this blog: certainly the reason I was encouraged to begin it, though I was afraid it would make a very stop-start narrative with massive gaps from the beginning.
While such has been the case, both the hubby and I have been lucky in not having faced much in the way of unexpected delays, with every appointment at the GIC entailing meaningful progress (Not all are so fortunate). Yesterday I had my third and final appointment at the GIC, after which I was discharged and referred to the surgical team at Charing Cross Hospital, from whom I shall hopefully be hearing in the near future.
Excited? Most definitely. Apprehensive? Somewhat. This will be my first major surgery, and the extended convalescence (about ten weeks) afterwards will present its own challenges, but finally knowing the end is in sight is tremendously fulfilling, and of course I can turn for support to the many people I now know who have taken this route successfully (and with the same surgical team). I also know I will not be impeded from getting the sick leave I need.
Here I am with two wonderful friends – Helena and Amanda – standing outside the hospital which I shall be visiting more formally in due course.
And thank you to everyone here who has encouraged me through this surreal but ultimately positive story. Hopefully its closing chapters should come at a slightly faster rate from now on …
This is just a quick but significant news update to report that as of this time tomorrow, my husband Cal – who has been waiting since early 2015 to receive treatment for his gender dysphoria – will finally be getting his first dose of testosterone. This has been long delayed by a combination of NHS bureaucracy and actual malpractice (some Welsh GPs – unfortunately including one we were involved with – having seemingly ganged up to stymie trans care in Wales) but all the hurdles are finally crossed. We are both excited, if a little nervous – we are not sure what the effects will be, and the intramuscular injection is bound to be painful – but this is most definitely a time for celebration. I am so proud of him for having come this far, and more grateful than I can ever express for the support he has given me on the same journey (which was somewhat easier from my perspective, since I finally got official treatment last November).
Nothing much else going on in our world. I am still writing, programming, have taken up Tarot and Wicca, and am considering taking up ballet post-op, if I can find (or start) any trans-friendly groups. Hoping to have more creative news soon – I have made a new C64 game recently for a competition, and had a novel accepted for publication – but actually releasing them to the public now depends on how quickly others can move (The competition organisers and the publisher). I am also planning another fanfic to conclude the Movellan War trilogy, since the new season of Doctor Who actually did not close off that promising plot hole the way I was expecting it might (Any feedback on the other two, incidentally, would be massively appreciated, up to and and including “I got bored on the first page.” It helps to know).