Linda from Dr. Meltzer's office just called. The person that was scheduled this morning requested something different with her anesthesia...so, they want me now. NOW. I'm up as soon as I get over there.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Monday, February 21, 2005
Day 3 - The Day Before
Amber and I were off for my pre-surgical consult this morning. We arrived shortly before my 9:30am appointment and appeared to be the first ones there. We were taken to an exam room and Janet had me initial and sign a bunch of forms. After I disrobed, I put one of their black robes on.
When Dr. Meltzer came in, I had a list of questions for him. I asked for a general description of surgery...just for clarification. He mentioned that he basically inverts everything...but went into a few of the items. I believe, and this is not necessarily in order, he makes a cut along the midline of the perineum, cuts a skin graft out of the scrotal skin, separates the head from the penile shaft while maintaining the nerve connections, creates a cavity thru the middle muscle area, sews the graft onto the end of the penile skin, pulls the penile skin down and inverts it up into the cavity, anchors it with a couple of sutures, places the previous glans into the spot for the new clitoris, creates the new urethra, and then sews it all back along the seams, and then sews it together....with the packing in place, of course.
I also asked him about where the skin that is just on the underside of the glans ends up. It's one of my most sensitive spots and I wanted to know where it would end up. My guess was correct as he said it would end up inside the vagina.
I also mentioned the small jellybean sized lump next to my right testicle that I've had all of my life. He said it was probably part of the epididymis. Hopefully he'll be able to tell me after tomorrow. I always wondered what it was.
We also chatted about body contour and breast implants. I said I was just looking at the areas around my waist, but that I didn't have too much there. He said the best results were on people that didn't have too much there...something that was nice to hear. He also said that he'd probably look at 250cc minimum for a breast augmentation. I think he talked about the relatively small size of nipple that I have and how the breast implant should generally be placed. He said the best placement would come off the nipple incision and not thru the crease or armpit. I also showed him the scar for my trachea shave. He said that in time it was going to look really good...but that it just takes a while in that area. He said the scar around the areola would heal up almost invisible. Dr. Meltzer has had some pretty good results, but I'll probably also get a quote from one of the local SF docs. Dr. Meltzer's office quoted me $5970 for the breast aug and another $2500 for the lipo...a total of $8470. They booked me for the breast aug and lipo during my labiaplasty...just to reserve my time, but I'll need to decide soon if that's what I want to do or not.
Once we were done, I asked a few questions at the front desk. They said that three letters would be sent to me concerning my irreversible surgery...letters I will need for a new passport and birth certificate. We also discussed the days I would be out in order to finish off the disability forms for work.
Since Amber was hoping to discuss some possible UTI complications with Dr. Meltzer, I hung around with her. They actually got us in quite fast, especially since the other patient having her consult didn't ask nearly as many questions as I did.
Soon, Amber was undressing in the other exam room...the one with stirrups. Last night, I showed Amber what I have to work with. She said I had a lot of scrotal skin which will probably make up for my lack of foreskin. I told her I've been exercising the scrotal skin in the hopes of having plenty.
As she was undressing in the exam room, though, she showed me what she currently has. Although the clitoris is protruding a bit, her result actually looks pretty good. This labiaplasty is going to leave her with one pretty nice looking vagina. I don't know what it was, but seeing her results in person (after being with her during her surgery last year at this time) really eased my mind. I realized this really is the right decision for me.
When we were back in the front waiting area, I realized that I hadn't dug the nudie magazines out in order to ask Dr. Meltzer what type of vagina/labia he could produce. So, when we were back in there and he'd taken care of Amber's concerns, we looked through my magazines. The one I really like was also one that he said he could realistically provide. Cool. I'm not really into the vagina's with a lot of extra labia, but the ones with a nice little amount seem really pretty. I told him I'd rather have more depth than extra labia.
He was definitely happy to scan through the magazines, though. It was almost amusing how happy he was to go through them. He also pointed out a lot of bad boob jobs...especially the ones that always had to hold their boobs in certain places or looked really bad when they were laying on their backs. One thing he pointed out about the breast augmentation, though, was that implants typically leave one with very firm, youthful looking breasts....not that it's a bad thing.
After leaving there, Amber and I picked up my mom at the airport, then ran her by Greenbaum so she'd know where it is. I also dropped off a goodie bag for the nurses....who appeared to move me into room 2. Ahhh...another two. Second floor of Holiday Inn Express, 2nd floor of the previous hotel...2nd floor of Greenbaum...Room 2? We'll see tomorrow night.
This afternoon has been nothing but water and Ensure. I've had at least 8 ounces of water every hour on the hour. I downed the Magnesium Citrate at 5:30pm while Amber and my mom ate dinner. About 7:30, something kicked in as I had to go...#2. Amber didn't have to go until after the suppository and Bisacodyl tablets. I was already at least two hours ahead of schedule. I was really surprised that it hit me so fast.
By 9:00, I'd already gone a few times, but inserted the suppository anyway. Yeah, it's a weird feeling shoving that up the anus, but with enough Surgilube on it, it wasn't that bad. I took the Bisacodyl tablets at 9:30. Things are starting to wrap up and now I'm starting to feel a bit hungry. I think the fact that I ate a lot over the past few days combined with the Ensure holding off most of the hunger pains has made it easier. Only tonight do I actually feel hungry...and I'm craving something to eat....but I can't. Oh well. I'm definitely looking forward to food on Wednesday....I hope.
OK, well, I'm off to bed soon. Last night. New day.
When Dr. Meltzer came in, I had a list of questions for him. I asked for a general description of surgery...just for clarification. He mentioned that he basically inverts everything...but went into a few of the items. I believe, and this is not necessarily in order, he makes a cut along the midline of the perineum, cuts a skin graft out of the scrotal skin, separates the head from the penile shaft while maintaining the nerve connections, creates a cavity thru the middle muscle area, sews the graft onto the end of the penile skin, pulls the penile skin down and inverts it up into the cavity, anchors it with a couple of sutures, places the previous glans into the spot for the new clitoris, creates the new urethra, and then sews it all back along the seams, and then sews it together....with the packing in place, of course.
I also asked him about where the skin that is just on the underside of the glans ends up. It's one of my most sensitive spots and I wanted to know where it would end up. My guess was correct as he said it would end up inside the vagina.
I also mentioned the small jellybean sized lump next to my right testicle that I've had all of my life. He said it was probably part of the epididymis. Hopefully he'll be able to tell me after tomorrow. I always wondered what it was.
We also chatted about body contour and breast implants. I said I was just looking at the areas around my waist, but that I didn't have too much there. He said the best results were on people that didn't have too much there...something that was nice to hear. He also said that he'd probably look at 250cc minimum for a breast augmentation. I think he talked about the relatively small size of nipple that I have and how the breast implant should generally be placed. He said the best placement would come off the nipple incision and not thru the crease or armpit. I also showed him the scar for my trachea shave. He said that in time it was going to look really good...but that it just takes a while in that area. He said the scar around the areola would heal up almost invisible. Dr. Meltzer has had some pretty good results, but I'll probably also get a quote from one of the local SF docs. Dr. Meltzer's office quoted me $5970 for the breast aug and another $2500 for the lipo...a total of $8470. They booked me for the breast aug and lipo during my labiaplasty...just to reserve my time, but I'll need to decide soon if that's what I want to do or not.
Once we were done, I asked a few questions at the front desk. They said that three letters would be sent to me concerning my irreversible surgery...letters I will need for a new passport and birth certificate. We also discussed the days I would be out in order to finish off the disability forms for work.
Since Amber was hoping to discuss some possible UTI complications with Dr. Meltzer, I hung around with her. They actually got us in quite fast, especially since the other patient having her consult didn't ask nearly as many questions as I did.
Soon, Amber was undressing in the other exam room...the one with stirrups. Last night, I showed Amber what I have to work with. She said I had a lot of scrotal skin which will probably make up for my lack of foreskin. I told her I've been exercising the scrotal skin in the hopes of having plenty.
As she was undressing in the exam room, though, she showed me what she currently has. Although the clitoris is protruding a bit, her result actually looks pretty good. This labiaplasty is going to leave her with one pretty nice looking vagina. I don't know what it was, but seeing her results in person (after being with her during her surgery last year at this time) really eased my mind. I realized this really is the right decision for me.
When we were back in the front waiting area, I realized that I hadn't dug the nudie magazines out in order to ask Dr. Meltzer what type of vagina/labia he could produce. So, when we were back in there and he'd taken care of Amber's concerns, we looked through my magazines. The one I really like was also one that he said he could realistically provide. Cool. I'm not really into the vagina's with a lot of extra labia, but the ones with a nice little amount seem really pretty. I told him I'd rather have more depth than extra labia.
He was definitely happy to scan through the magazines, though. It was almost amusing how happy he was to go through them. He also pointed out a lot of bad boob jobs...especially the ones that always had to hold their boobs in certain places or looked really bad when they were laying on their backs. One thing he pointed out about the breast augmentation, though, was that implants typically leave one with very firm, youthful looking breasts....not that it's a bad thing.
After leaving there, Amber and I picked up my mom at the airport, then ran her by Greenbaum so she'd know where it is. I also dropped off a goodie bag for the nurses....who appeared to move me into room 2. Ahhh...another two. Second floor of Holiday Inn Express, 2nd floor of the previous hotel...2nd floor of Greenbaum...Room 2? We'll see tomorrow night.
This afternoon has been nothing but water and Ensure. I've had at least 8 ounces of water every hour on the hour. I downed the Magnesium Citrate at 5:30pm while Amber and my mom ate dinner. About 7:30, something kicked in as I had to go...#2. Amber didn't have to go until after the suppository and Bisacodyl tablets. I was already at least two hours ahead of schedule. I was really surprised that it hit me so fast.
By 9:00, I'd already gone a few times, but inserted the suppository anyway. Yeah, it's a weird feeling shoving that up the anus, but with enough Surgilube on it, it wasn't that bad. I took the Bisacodyl tablets at 9:30. Things are starting to wrap up and now I'm starting to feel a bit hungry. I think the fact that I ate a lot over the past few days combined with the Ensure holding off most of the hunger pains has made it easier. Only tonight do I actually feel hungry...and I'm craving something to eat....but I can't. Oh well. I'm definitely looking forward to food on Wednesday....I hope.
OK, well, I'm off to bed soon. Last night. New day.
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Day 2 - Morning Run
I went for a run this morning after finally getting a little sleep last night. I found a golf course to run toward, but soon noticed a hill/rock formation to run up. There were a few paths running through the hills and I climbed up to the top of one of the lower hills. I took in the awesome view of Phoenix and Scottsdale from atop the hill.
Almost three years ago, I went running the evening I first went to therapy...just hours after getting out of the session...the first time I was really able to talk to someone about what I was feeling and how I wanted to transition.
On my run, the sun was slowly setting behind the Bay Area hill. As I reached the hill I sometimes run up, the sun's brilliant light disappeared behind the far hillside before I could make it to the top of mine. There was still enough light to navigate the hill and the rest of the path home, but I was hoping to reach the top to see the beautiful sunset.
This morning, I ran up this new hill. The view of the valley was nice. I could see the mountains in the distance as the white clouds moved overhead to the winds that have brought the latest rain showers to Phoenix. As I started back on my run, a woman wearing a nice running shirt with running tights ran past me going the other direction. One bonus after SRS will be the ability to finally wear a little more revealing stuff when running...such as what she was wearing. As I reached the parking lot, I saw a car just like mine...except it was green. Was it hers? Was this a symbolic glimpse of my future running by me?
After spending the afternoon in the mall either shopping, walking around, or playing video games, we grabbed my last meal at Johnny Rockets. Yes, I decided to just grab a cheeseburger and a milkshake for my last solid food for a few days. I was actually quite full after just the burger and shake, probably since I have been eating too much the past few days. That's probably not a bad thing to have pigged out a bit considering I'll be holed up with an I.V. the next few days.
After dinner, we moved into the Holiday Inn Express after spending a night elsewhere due to occupancy overload in Scottsdale. Next up was the 3 Doors Down concert at Celebrity Theatre. Saliva, a rather hard rock band, was the opener. They weren't quite my style, but since the noise was actually at a respectable level, it was much easier to tolerate them.
After they finished, I was off to the bathroom. OK, this is one bad thing with transition....women's bathroom lines suck. Every time a guy walks by he either shakes his head or tells us how nice it is to be a guy.
3 Doors Down played a pretty good show. Could have been better....could have been worse. At least they were entertaining.
Almost three years ago, I went running the evening I first went to therapy...just hours after getting out of the session...the first time I was really able to talk to someone about what I was feeling and how I wanted to transition.
On my run, the sun was slowly setting behind the Bay Area hill. As I reached the hill I sometimes run up, the sun's brilliant light disappeared behind the far hillside before I could make it to the top of mine. There was still enough light to navigate the hill and the rest of the path home, but I was hoping to reach the top to see the beautiful sunset.
This morning, I ran up this new hill. The view of the valley was nice. I could see the mountains in the distance as the white clouds moved overhead to the winds that have brought the latest rain showers to Phoenix. As I started back on my run, a woman wearing a nice running shirt with running tights ran past me going the other direction. One bonus after SRS will be the ability to finally wear a little more revealing stuff when running...such as what she was wearing. As I reached the parking lot, I saw a car just like mine...except it was green. Was it hers? Was this a symbolic glimpse of my future running by me?
After spending the afternoon in the mall either shopping, walking around, or playing video games, we grabbed my last meal at Johnny Rockets. Yes, I decided to just grab a cheeseburger and a milkshake for my last solid food for a few days. I was actually quite full after just the burger and shake, probably since I have been eating too much the past few days. That's probably not a bad thing to have pigged out a bit considering I'll be holed up with an I.V. the next few days.
After dinner, we moved into the Holiday Inn Express after spending a night elsewhere due to occupancy overload in Scottsdale. Next up was the 3 Doors Down concert at Celebrity Theatre. Saliva, a rather hard rock band, was the opener. They weren't quite my style, but since the noise was actually at a respectable level, it was much easier to tolerate them.
After they finished, I was off to the bathroom. OK, this is one bad thing with transition....women's bathroom lines suck. Every time a guy walks by he either shakes his head or tells us how nice it is to be a guy.
3 Doors Down played a pretty good show. Could have been better....could have been worse. At least they were entertaining.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Day 1 - Weather
After spending last night with a few friends talking over a nice little dinner, I was up until 4:30am packing everything into my suitcases. I got up around 7:30 in order to get to the airport in time for Amber and I to catch our flight to Phoenix. With inclement weather moving through the area, though, we were actually delayed flying out.
I mainly slept on the plane...a flight that was surprisingly smooth considering the weather the entire way...that, or perhaps, I was just too tired to notice.
After checking into the hotel, Amber suggested a local comedy improv theatre with Paula Poundstone. I've heard her name before, but didn't really know who she was. We caught dinner then picked up a few items at the local grocery store. My main item was a couple bottles of water for Monday.
After the grocery store, we walked next door to see if they had a few items including invalid pillows and neosporin that I figured I would buy here after noticing that my regular tube was getting a little low. Amber also picked up a pillow as well, even though we have the red blow up ring that has been passed down from fellow Meltzer patients. Surprisingly, as we approached checkout (both of us with invalid pillows), we both noticed, ironically, that the cashier was T. She looked mid-20’s and like she was full time...but may have still been working as a guy. She had long hair, definite breast growth, wore women’s tights, and had no facial hair. Amber and I didn’t mention anything until we were both outside.
At the Paula Poundstone comedy event, she asked one of the women in the front row what she did. She said she was the financial officer for the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender students at ASU. Very cool. Paula didn’t play on any of the subcategories, but had fun with trans stuff...like TransAtlantic, etc. She also didn't understand why everyone had such a big problem with gay marriage, and, of course, poked a little fun at the conservative right. She even had a little fun with being an atheist...about how people are always trying to convert her, but you never see it the opposite way: "Hey, Father...we need to talk about this crazy religion of yours."
I mainly slept on the plane...a flight that was surprisingly smooth considering the weather the entire way...that, or perhaps, I was just too tired to notice.
After checking into the hotel, Amber suggested a local comedy improv theatre with Paula Poundstone. I've heard her name before, but didn't really know who she was. We caught dinner then picked up a few items at the local grocery store. My main item was a couple bottles of water for Monday.
After the grocery store, we walked next door to see if they had a few items including invalid pillows and neosporin that I figured I would buy here after noticing that my regular tube was getting a little low. Amber also picked up a pillow as well, even though we have the red blow up ring that has been passed down from fellow Meltzer patients. Surprisingly, as we approached checkout (both of us with invalid pillows), we both noticed, ironically, that the cashier was T. She looked mid-20’s and like she was full time...but may have still been working as a guy. She had long hair, definite breast growth, wore women’s tights, and had no facial hair. Amber and I didn’t mention anything until we were both outside.
At the Paula Poundstone comedy event, she asked one of the women in the front row what she did. She said she was the financial officer for the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender students at ASU. Very cool. Paula didn’t play on any of the subcategories, but had fun with trans stuff...like TransAtlantic, etc. She also didn't understand why everyone had such a big problem with gay marriage, and, of course, poked a little fun at the conservative right. She even had a little fun with being an atheist...about how people are always trying to convert her, but you never see it the opposite way: "Hey, Father...we need to talk about this crazy religion of yours."
Friday, February 18, 2005
Letting go
I thought I dealt with this when I initially started transition...when I went full time...when I had facial surgery, but now I realize I still haven't gotten over all of it.
Being T isn't easy.
It's hard accepting who you are and what you need to do in order to be...simply in order to be. It's hard giving up that "normal life", of ditching the dream of a wife, 2.3 kids, a dog, and a house in the burbs. Some will say it's not all it's cracked up to be, but all of my friends with kids say they would give anything for their kids....that they would do it all over again exactly the same.
Either way, this is that last little reminder that I'll never have that. Sure, if I really wanted to, I could come close with adoption or a surrogate mother, but the odds are quite against that. And it is nice having family as we age in this complex world of ours. As we grow older, married people are dominated by their children's lives and single people fall thru the cracks.
So, now, here I am.....letting go of that last little inhibition. I gave up the family...the possibility of having a family...long ago. Now it's just finally prying my hands off the cut rope.
Being T isn't easy.
It's hard accepting who you are and what you need to do in order to be...simply in order to be. It's hard giving up that "normal life", of ditching the dream of a wife, 2.3 kids, a dog, and a house in the burbs. Some will say it's not all it's cracked up to be, but all of my friends with kids say they would give anything for their kids....that they would do it all over again exactly the same.
Either way, this is that last little reminder that I'll never have that. Sure, if I really wanted to, I could come close with adoption or a surrogate mother, but the odds are quite against that. And it is nice having family as we age in this complex world of ours. As we grow older, married people are dominated by their children's lives and single people fall thru the cracks.
So, now, here I am.....letting go of that last little inhibition. I gave up the family...the possibility of having a family...long ago. Now it's just finally prying my hands off the cut rope.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Taxed
I finally finished my taxes tonight. I had been waiting to hear how I needed to include my short term disability payments from last year, but I was told today that they are tax free since I've already been taxed on them. I'm definitely in a happy mood. With the Dr. O FFS deduction, as well as a variety of others including electrolysis and the Dr. Meltzer initial stuff, federal and state refunds will come out just shy of paying off SRS. Unfortunately, I'll probably leave a lot of it on my credit card and save some in my bank account to pay for labiaplasty later this year. My current bank account has been getting pretty low over the past few months with travel, the hairline advancement, Christmas, and electrolysis. The tax refund will definitely be nice to have in the ol' bank account. Let's just hope I don't get hit with an audit...although I have nothing to hide, nor did I cheat on my return at all. It just wouldn't be any fun having to deal with justifying FFS and electrolysis to the IRS.
Monday, February 14, 2005
Happy V-Day
Tonight was our last performance of the Vagina Monologues for the V-Day activities at UC-Berkeley. The cast, all college women except for the three transgender people, were incredible. I saw three professional actresses perform the Vagina Monologues last year in Napa, and although they did a wonderful job, these college women simply blew them away. They were much more passionate and full of energy...something the paid actresses didn't have. I was simply amazed with the quality of performances...even though some of them didn't even have any stage experience.
They all conveyed such emotion in each of their spots...from the Russian woman who was violated by soldiers, to the teacher who instructed us on how to say the word 'cunt', to the dominatrix who showed us the variety of moans (the Berkeley and Stanford moans were great), to the Angry Vagina, to the child who'd have her vagina wear a Met's cap...backwards, to finding out what our vaginas smell like, what they would wear, and how they have children...as well as the other numerous monologues I'm leaving out.
The three transgender monologues, written and performed by Lynnee Breedlove, Sherilyn Connelly, and myself covered a variety of items. Lynnee talked about being a non-op, non-hormone man with a vagina...living outside the box. He definitely had a lot of funny moments which, tonight, included a joke about the Penis Monologues. Sherilyn talked about wanting a flat stomach and dealing with life as a woman with a penis. I wrapped up the T monologues with my piece entitled 11/10/8 Days...depending on what night it was. Basically, it was my own little countdown to Happy New Vagina Day. Today, though, I celebrated Valentine's Day...one year full time. So, Happy V-Day on two fronts.
PS...here's my monologue from tonight:
"8 Days"
I have eight days to go. Eight days. Most women don't have to wait, they just have one.
When I was a child, I was confused. I was just a kid but, yet, what I saw wasn't supposed to be there. I thought, "Nothing's supposed to be there," but it wasn't nothing, it was something.
When I was naked in the locker room, I felt different. Secluded. Alone. Why was I different? Why was I like this? Why was I the only one that had this…"problem"? Did anyone else feel like me?
I hid my pain. Behind corners, I'd cry. Only showing forth what others wanted to see, wanted to hear…wanted. I gave them what they wanted.
Sometimes I pushed the boundary, though. I'd apply my sister's makeup. I'd play house with her on occasion. In 6th grade, I jumped rope with the girls. Double-dutch.
Growing up, I learned to be a man. Sometimes it was easy, sometimes it wasn't, and sometimes it was just utterly chaotic. Guys like girls, and I went along with that plan...without resistance. Girls are nice...but things just didn't quite seem right.
8 days. A week from tomorrow.
I was in an Irish pub in Texas with friends last year. Yes, Texas. An old Irishman was at his piano talking to the audience, singing dirty songs, and telling bad jokes. He asked a pair of women where they were from.
"Pasadena."
"Texas or California?"
"Texas."
But he talked about California…then San Francisco. "The women wear their skirts so short in San Francisco you can see their balls." He continued to sing his dirty songs and tell his bad jokes. He saw me standing with my friends a few feet from his piano, and asked, "Where ya from?"
I grinned, took a step closer, leaned in and said, "S a n F r a n c i s c o."
I caught him off guard.
"San Francisco…uh oh, I'm in trouble now. It's OK though, she's a girl," he told the audience. I feared telling them my past, my path, my journey.
He called me a girl. Am I a girl? When I was 10, I was asked, "Are you a boy or a girl." I responded, "What do you think?" He looked at me and said, "Boy," but he seemed disappointed. So was I. Am I a girl?
Eight days. Most women don't have to wait….they just have one. Their chromosomes said to make one. Mine didn't. Something happened up here….or didn't happen….disparity, discomfort, discontentment, disgrace, dysphoria, discovery, dismemberment.
My chromosomes had instructions to make a penis…independently, though, my mind developed female. Can you imagine the conflict?
So, now I stand here, 8 days from having all of that fixed. They'll cut, remove a bit here and a little there, move things around, cut a little more, pull a little here and there, invert it, sew it all back together and wrap it all up like a great big shiny birthday present. My own special birthday present.
Eight days to go. But then I have to wait another 6 days to open my present. Whew, and initially that baby is going to look ugly. Damn ugly. You've never seen one as ugly as mine is going to be. And the smell? OMG…during recovery, you'll never believe how bad it's going to smell. Bad! Oh, and then in order to maintain its shape and prevent it from collapsing in on itself, I have to shove a plastic rod up my vagina in order to dilate - and dilate - and dilate - and dilate - and dilate - and dilate…and, oh, you probably get the point.
And, then…well, I guess I don't have to wait anymore. After I heal, I'll just be…me. I won't have to hid behind corners. I won't have to hold back my tears. I won't have to feel different. I won't have to be someone I'm not. No more Irishman. No more dysphoria. No more penis. And my vagina will look pretty. Very pretty. And it will smell....well, let's just say that it will smell a whole lot better than it did during recovery.
8 days. It's already been a lifetime of waiting. 8 days more. I still have a lifetime to live. 8 days.
8 days too long.
They all conveyed such emotion in each of their spots...from the Russian woman who was violated by soldiers, to the teacher who instructed us on how to say the word 'cunt', to the dominatrix who showed us the variety of moans (the Berkeley and Stanford moans were great), to the Angry Vagina, to the child who'd have her vagina wear a Met's cap...backwards, to finding out what our vaginas smell like, what they would wear, and how they have children...as well as the other numerous monologues I'm leaving out.
The three transgender monologues, written and performed by Lynnee Breedlove, Sherilyn Connelly, and myself covered a variety of items. Lynnee talked about being a non-op, non-hormone man with a vagina...living outside the box. He definitely had a lot of funny moments which, tonight, included a joke about the Penis Monologues. Sherilyn talked about wanting a flat stomach and dealing with life as a woman with a penis. I wrapped up the T monologues with my piece entitled 11/10/8 Days...depending on what night it was. Basically, it was my own little countdown to Happy New Vagina Day. Today, though, I celebrated Valentine's Day...one year full time. So, Happy V-Day on two fronts.
PS...here's my monologue from tonight:
"8 Days"
I have eight days to go. Eight days. Most women don't have to wait, they just have one.
When I was a child, I was confused. I was just a kid but, yet, what I saw wasn't supposed to be there. I thought, "Nothing's supposed to be there," but it wasn't nothing, it was something.
When I was naked in the locker room, I felt different. Secluded. Alone. Why was I different? Why was I like this? Why was I the only one that had this…"problem"? Did anyone else feel like me?
I hid my pain. Behind corners, I'd cry. Only showing forth what others wanted to see, wanted to hear…wanted. I gave them what they wanted.
Sometimes I pushed the boundary, though. I'd apply my sister's makeup. I'd play house with her on occasion. In 6th grade, I jumped rope with the girls. Double-dutch.
Growing up, I learned to be a man. Sometimes it was easy, sometimes it wasn't, and sometimes it was just utterly chaotic. Guys like girls, and I went along with that plan...without resistance. Girls are nice...but things just didn't quite seem right.
8 days. A week from tomorrow.
I was in an Irish pub in Texas with friends last year. Yes, Texas. An old Irishman was at his piano talking to the audience, singing dirty songs, and telling bad jokes. He asked a pair of women where they were from.
"Pasadena."
"Texas or California?"
"Texas."
But he talked about California…then San Francisco. "The women wear their skirts so short in San Francisco you can see their balls." He continued to sing his dirty songs and tell his bad jokes. He saw me standing with my friends a few feet from his piano, and asked, "Where ya from?"
I grinned, took a step closer, leaned in and said, "S a n F r a n c i s c o."
I caught him off guard.
"San Francisco…uh oh, I'm in trouble now. It's OK though, she's a girl," he told the audience. I feared telling them my past, my path, my journey.
He called me a girl. Am I a girl? When I was 10, I was asked, "Are you a boy or a girl." I responded, "What do you think?" He looked at me and said, "Boy," but he seemed disappointed. So was I. Am I a girl?
Eight days. Most women don't have to wait….they just have one. Their chromosomes said to make one. Mine didn't. Something happened up here….or didn't happen….disparity, discomfort, discontentment, disgrace, dysphoria, discovery, dismemberment.
My chromosomes had instructions to make a penis…independently, though, my mind developed female. Can you imagine the conflict?
So, now I stand here, 8 days from having all of that fixed. They'll cut, remove a bit here and a little there, move things around, cut a little more, pull a little here and there, invert it, sew it all back together and wrap it all up like a great big shiny birthday present. My own special birthday present.
Eight days to go. But then I have to wait another 6 days to open my present. Whew, and initially that baby is going to look ugly. Damn ugly. You've never seen one as ugly as mine is going to be. And the smell? OMG…during recovery, you'll never believe how bad it's going to smell. Bad! Oh, and then in order to maintain its shape and prevent it from collapsing in on itself, I have to shove a plastic rod up my vagina in order to dilate - and dilate - and dilate - and dilate - and dilate - and dilate…and, oh, you probably get the point.
And, then…well, I guess I don't have to wait anymore. After I heal, I'll just be…me. I won't have to hid behind corners. I won't have to hold back my tears. I won't have to feel different. I won't have to be someone I'm not. No more Irishman. No more dysphoria. No more penis. And my vagina will look pretty. Very pretty. And it will smell....well, let's just say that it will smell a whole lot better than it did during recovery.
8 days. It's already been a lifetime of waiting. 8 days more. I still have a lifetime to live. 8 days.
8 days too long.
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