Flight And Hotel Booked

Hey there, dear readers of the page! I am so happy right now! We booked our flight to Philly several weeks ago. Today, we booked our hotel, too! So now we have a place to stay and a way to get there.

We don’t know, however, how much the surgery will cost. They will tell us about two weeks before surgery, which sucks from a planning point of view. So we are going to Philly. Who knows if surgery will be pulled off, but we are definitely going, lol! I told Egg that, while Philly would probably be really cool, it’s not a place I currently want to spend ten days in without surgery. It would be so anti climatic, you know?

Anyway, that is the special news for today! A bientot!


Surgery Day

So, dear readers of the page, this title is a bit misleading. You see, it was surgery day, but not for me. Nope, it was for Egg. My sweet Egg had to have her gallbladder removed. It was her first surgery, and she was understandably nervous. The surgery went well, and she is at home recovering. No more painful gallstones, no more sludge, and no more deformed, diseased gallbladder. C’est la vie!

Talk With Surgeon

Earlier today I had a follow up call with my surgeon for GCS. We both agreed that limited depth vaginoplasty is the way to go, given my Crohn’s history, and being in an active flare, where I go to the bathroom 5-8 times a FREAKING night!!

I will be in the hospital for one night, instead of the three originally stated. I will still be in PA for around 10 days. The surgery itself will not be that much shorter. Only by half an hour, the surgeon said. After surgery, my bed rest will be four weeks instead of six.

All in all, this conversation made me really happy, and inspired confidence that my surgeon is on my side, and was willing to talk about my concerns.

Talking With Papa Bear

Welcome back, dear readers of the page! Today, I wanted to write a little bit about my recent (Friday) conversation with my dad, who I affectionately call Papa Bear. He is a great guy, and has always been an excellent father and man. He has accomplished so, so much in his time on this planet. Military – Army – retired full bird, flight surgeon, airborne, officer, the list goes on and on. Oh yeah, there’s more. He was an OBGYN for many years, with many achievements while working. He, then went back to Theology school and graduated with a doctorate. He is extremely active in his church, and that community, I really could go on and on.

Papa Bear (and Mom) got me into soccer. They took me all around the Southeast states for traveling teams, soccer camps, you name it. Me and my dad even refereed a couple of seasons together. He took me to what I consider to be one of the most momentous times in my life – the first time I saw Les Miserables at The Fabulous Fox theater in Atlanta. This was years ago, when I was a kid. My mom didn’t want to go, and that allowed me to go! Oh my god!! I remember being so so so overwhelmed and overcome with emotion and passion and the feels. It was insane. And that sparked my desire and love for Broadway and musical theater of all forms. Of course, both of my parents had us watching The Sound Of Music for many years before then, but being at the theater, with the beautiful painted dome of a ceiling; the plushness of the entire evening was entirely enchanting, and I owe that entirely to my dad. I don’t think he really knows how significant an event that was in my upbringing. I mean, I haven’t accomplished anything, other than not killing myself, but I like to think of myself as a lover of words, and a crafter of words.  But still, seeing Les Miserables from the fourth row orchestra was an amazing thing. Back that up by seeing Phantom Of The Opera, where the chandelier comes crashing down – we were right under the damn thing! It was freaky! And amazing! Stunning! And the sound of the organ! Holy guacamole, these events, and a lot more like them, shaped me into the way I think and entertain ideas today! The way I interpret art, poetry, writing,and music. Yeah, school can bring some of that to the table, a scholarly way to look at art and music, poetry and writing. But I think that the constant feeding of art-positive activities, of introducing kids to all kinds of art early in life, builds a certain character, and a certain beauty of mind and an all together wonderful and whole way of thinking and forming ones mind.

Anyway, on Friday, Papa Bear called me to talk about my decision to have GAS. We never have deep conversations, and he acknowledged as much, going so far as to say that he is like my grandfather in that way. This is fine with me. I know he loves me in no uncertain terms, and now I know that he is not going to disown me either, lol. I don’t know why I freaked so much. They (my parents) are entirely decent people, just very cis het and not understanding or knowing too much about trans issues.

But, my dad and I had a good conversation. Of course, since he was and OBGYN he had to tell me a story of a “burly 6’4” police officer who had GAS and had some bad complications. And, yeah, it is terrifying, but not terrifying enough to change my mind, hahahaha. Hopefully, more than trying to change my mind, he wanted to make me more aware of the potential after effects of the surgery.

The point of this whole post is that my Papa Bear is an entirely decent person, who didn’t disown me, and still loves and supports me. He still won’t call me Sophia, lol. But, we’re in a good place!

Surgery Fears

Alright, dear readers of the page, it’s time to write a little bit about surgery, and my fears surrounding it. Before that, we need to take a trip into the past.

June of 2007. We were living in South Florida at the time. I had been really sick with my Crohn’s, so it was decided that surgery was the only option. If I remember correctly (if not, ask Egg. She was there too), we had a date on the books, but I didn’t make it and had to go to the ER. Something like four/five hours later, I’m admitted to the hospital, then the battery of tests began.

I think somewhere in this period, or maybe it had crept on and I just didn’t catch it, but I must have had some type of mood event, because my anxiety cranked up past 10, and I was freaking out, screaming resisting, and crying. I was a mess, and truly, don’t remember too much, just patches and fog. I think the morphine may have been playing with me, so, at some point, I was switched to dilauded. Now, that is one hell of a drup, lemme tell you! Whoo! But, I digress…

During the actual surgery, which was a small bowel resection btw, I had just over a foot of my small and large intestines taken out. They sewed me up and took me to recovery. Oh, but before wheeling me into recovery, they didn’t have my spinal ready. so I was in the worst pain of my life when I finally awoke from surgery. Then, some hours after my surgery, and while me and Egg are in recovery, Egg notices that my side is red and bruised and that I am in quite a lot of pain. She finally gets the nurse who checks me out, then back we go for a second emergency surgery, where they took out more diseased intestine, then sew me back up again. But damn, if I don’t get pneumonia and land my ass in ICU (intensive care unit) for six/seven days. A short recovery turned into life or death, and very near death in my circumstance. It was scary, to say the least.

All of this brings me to the next question. After having this horrendous surgery where I almost died, what makes me want to go under the knife again, this time willingly? And the answer to that is: I don’t know. I am hoping that my surgery in 2007 was a fluke. From what I’ve read, it was a fluke. So, I guess the overriding thought here is that I am trans, and this is one of the ways I reconcile the disconnect between my mind and body. I’m not severely dysphoric about my nether regions. But I do sincerely believe that this will help to ease the constant drone of “what if” that plays in my mind.

So, here’s hoping that this surgery in April will go smoothly. If it doesn’t, then that is the end of elective surgery for me. Keep your fingers and toes crossed for me, friends!!

I Told My Mother!

As you know, dear readers of the page, I have GAS scheduled for April of next year. Exciting news in and of itself, I know. But the hardest part of the process remained –  telling my parents. Well, as of this moment, I can check that off my list! I called my mother and told her just a bit ago. I had terrible anxiety going into telling her. To be honest, this anxiety has been building ever since I got my date. All the regular fears trans folx have over disclosure were present, but my mom, bless her heart, handled it like a champ! No fainting, no smelling salts needed.

I didn’t tell my dad, leaving that chore to my mother to do, lol. I haven’t been disowned, which I thought was a possibility. I mean, I’m old and shit now, so they wouldn’t be able to kick me out and shit, but they do help financially (and we really, really appreciate that)! She could have cut me off immediately, but she didn’t, so there’s that. No outright rejection is a good day in my book!

Of course, there will be more discussions in the future; hopefully civil and without incident.

On a funny note, me and mama had a good laugh when my sis said goodbye to me as she was leaving. My mama tells me that she says bye, then when I say bye, mama deadnames me, hears sis use my correct name, tried to correct herself but gets so flustered, finally giving up. It gave me quite the cackle! hahaha!

So, all in all, a rather positive experience. My parents aren’t horrible people, just not familiar with teh trans. I don’t think they want to get familiar either. But hey, I don’t know any trans people IRL either, and it makes me nervous meeting new people.

That’s that, dear readers of the page! A bientot!