Two small achievements …

The ten weeks of my mandatory sick leave are now exhausted – more’s the pity, as I was getting quite used to being a lady of leisure – and I am now back at work, albeit on reduced hours: for the present, only my weekend shifts, which I can just about manage on. Still, it was a tiresome first weekend back: the workplace has never been uplifting, the job itself is repetitive and undemanding, and the only challenge is sheer physical stamina, which I am currently short on (ten weeks of mostly inertia have not left me in the best of shape). It was thus with a somewhat downbeat mood I commenced this week, and having to get a very early start on Tuesday to take a 6AM bus to London for my post-op check-up did not help matters. All I could think of was what complications the surgeon might find: I knew beforehand that I was not quite fully healed, and the prospect of further sick leave was a very slender silver lining under the circumstances. I am so ready for this all to be over and done with so I can really start to move forward with my life.

Thankfully, before 12AM that day, it was. The surgeon examined me, declared my little bit of unhealed tissue to be a very minor complication that would fix itself, and gave me the all-clear. Cue one very big sigh of relief … followed by some hours of boredom, as the coach back to Cardiff was not until 4PM, and it was too hot and humid a day to want to go sightseeing in London. For want of any better activity, I camped out in a nearby coffee shop with a couple of iced soya milk lattes and idled away the time on the internet, thus discovering that my C64 game “Valkyrie 3 – The Night Witch” which I had programmed earlier this year and submitted for an annual competition had won said competition. This was obviously my day for good news …

Val3e

So, how best to use the current state of feeling inspired before it drains away? Resuming job-hunting, for one thing. Grateful as I am to my current employer for having seen me through this far, I am not even good value for money any more in that environment, and would be better suited in a more cerebrally-oriented job (and probably happier). In any case, the weekend-heavy hours are not good for burlesque performing, which I plan to do a lot of in the future.

While I am looking for the ideal job, though, I am also planning to start an Etsy shop as soon as possible to sell handmade jewellery, and possibly even start doing Tarot readings via this blog for anyone interested, although that will be donation only. I would be very reluctant to put a price on that, and the practice itself would be valuable for me (and I’m not sure I’m that gifted a reader in any case, but we live and learn).

Having got this far, I do for once feel equal to these challenges, and convinced if I want these changes enough they will materialise. Still, all positive vibes, prayers, and blessings appreciated … xxx

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System Shock

escaping

(Me and fellow patient Leah – who very kindly lent me the wheelchair, making an impromptu dash for sunlight and fresh air at Charing Cross Hospital, a week post-surgery)


Some of you already know that I was, at long last (although the three years I have been waiting is by no means considered an unusually long duration for this), recently admitted to hospital for my gender confirmation surgery, hence why I have been less than active online of late. I am now feeling strong enough to post upon this subject, though it has certainly taken its toll on me (I have never had any form of surgery before, nor spent any significant time in hospital, and the system shock has been quite extreme).

First of all, I would like to thank and praise the staff at Charing Cross Hospital (Riverside Ward especially) for their care and devotion over that week, especially since I fear I was not the easiest of patients (being a vegan and a massive worrier). My deepest thanks also to the surgeon (Mr. Roland Morley) and his team of specialists (especially Martina and Manjit) for having helped me finally cross this threshold and become as fully myself as I can be. Also, love and thanks to my ward-mates Lisa and Leah for their sweetness and empathy during this often harrowing time.

It was scary, I don’t deny, and very humbling. Having various tubes inserted in me within minutes of arrival, being put under general anaesthetic, being uncomfortably trussed up in compression bandages, not being able to shower for days, not even being able to go to the toilet without signalling for assistance, catheters, drains, drugs, blood, fainting fits, sleeplessness … etc. Darling hubby Cal and my dear friend Helena (who took the above picture) were there to keep me company when they could, but it is certainly not an experience I would choose to repeat for anything less (so we can forget all about breast enhancement, facial feminisation, etc. I can be content with the rest of myself, and there are less painful ways to compensate if I feel the need). Even now, the after-care is far from over. I will spare the graphic details, suffice it to say the healing is a long process and I can expect to be low on stamina for months ahead, even assuming no complications (Signs are OK so far, but I won’t say no to any good vibes, prayers, or healing spells anyone wishes to send).

I have been stuck in the flat for days now, which is certainly frustrating for me (I rarely spend a whole day indoors). I cannot exercise, nor attend my dance classes, nor model. Still, it is not a decision I regret, and I know all of that will come in time. I am sleeping well again, eating food I like, spending more time out of bed, and finally feeling up to a bit of blogging. Nevertheless, I still have to take regular painkillers, be very careful not to exert myself, and spend an inordinate amount of time on my back (If nothing else, I have at least caught up on my reading). The test of endurance is far from over, and as for the peculiar idea – beloved of the gender-critical school – that people would do this sort of thing for fun, I have no words to express my incredulity.

Quick Update

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.

 

 

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