Avoiding Death

The phone rang at 11:58pm Sunday evening. Anytime my phone rings after 10pm, it usually isn’t good. I’m always leery to answer it knowing that there is probably bad news behind the cheerful ringtone.

“Have you read your email?” she asked.

I’d seen my email icon bouncing a few minutes before, but hadn’t checked the mail that it indicated had arrived.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said, “we can only do so much.”

She’s right.

I read the email. It was from a T friend of ours. She basically said that if we were reading it, she was dead since she’d set a 5 hour time delay on the message being sent. Suicide. It was her second serious attempt. The first I thought was a cry for help...a reach into the dark for someone that would listen...that would help. This one sounded a little more serious since she was telling us after it had happened.

I called her phone. No answer. I left a message.

At 12:20am my time, I called the cops in her area...a one hour time difference. They took all of the info, including information from her last attempt. I also told them she was transgender. I feel being honest with the police shows them my respect in their ability and places my trust in them doing the right thing. They called back just past 1:30am to tell me there was no answer on her phones, and no response at her door. They said they didn’t have enough to go on to break down her door.

What else could I do?

I went back to bed...hoping she hadn’t done what she’d said she’d done.

Yesterday at noon, my phone rings. Her name pops up on my caller ID. I sat there for a second staring at the name...wondering if it was her, or someone who had her phone and was calling me to tell me she was dead. It’s one of those situations where you just kinda sit there pondering the universe as time slowly goes by. The phone rings, and yet, time just stood still as my brain pondered the eventual.

I said hello. I didn't want an answer...I almost preferred not knowing.

Luckily, it was her. She said that she OD’d Sunday night. She also told me that charcoal does not taste good. They used it to pump her stomach, and later gave her names of professional counselors. She said she was tired and had spent the past 3 days in the hospital.

It was good to know she was still alive. I mean, we all die, but why die when there is still so much life to live? I know why. Things have been tough for her. Again, transition is not easy. She feels there is no way out...no way to deal with all the GID stuff running through her head, especially with a lack of support that her family is showing her.

I, too, was trying to stay healthy and alive tonight...out for a little run. It’s the first time since surgery...over 7 weeks ago. I just went a short 2 miles. It was nice to get out again, and I felt really good when I took the first few bounces. The groin area felt like a super tuck the first mile. Yes, a super tuck. I went slow, and walked a bit, especially since I had nothing to prove to anyone. Based on how tight things were after walking around Scottsdale, I worried about being tight for dilation, but things weren’t that bad tonight.