I will not trade one lie for another, but...

I will not trade one lie for another, but...

This is a first for me. And in the grand scheme of things not a big deal, but does make me wonder about which way to go.

A few weeks back I happened to strike up a conversation with a very nice lady on our shuttle bus. She was very friendly and passing the boring time on the bus with a conversation is nice. She also takes her train from the same depot I use so we walk from where the bus lets us off to the terminal. It's about a ten minute walk and we both remarked about being able to get some exercise was a good thing. She is a tall woman, nearly as tall as I am, so we both can walk very quickly. It's fun to have someone to pace your stride with.

Since this is my last week at work before heading out, I've been debating what to say to her about me being gone for several weeks.

What makes this difficult for me is that she is a recent employee here and has not heard about my transition. To me, I am just another woman in the workforce. And the possibility I may soon out myself to her is a first for me. All of my other outings have always revolved about me as a former male and moving on to female. With her, I may have to tell her I used to be male. She has no clue.

Well I started the conversation by telling her that I would be gone for a while in surgery. She asked if everything was all right. I told her that everything was fine.

After a few more minutes she asked what all I was going in for.

"Oh, just having some plumbing work done..."

"Been there done that!" she replied.

Not a lie, but not the truth...

"Which hospital are you going to?"

"I have to fly out to Philadelphia to see a specialist"

Still not lying, but not being truthful either.

"Well I hope everthing goes OK! Send me a note when you get back and I'll visit you since you live near me anyway."

"Thanks! I would love that!"

My first truthful statement.

I didn't give up the lie of masculinity just to hide behind my femininity. I feel that I need to be truthful with her, but it is just not one of those things you can just slide in the conversation. "Hi! How's your day been. Oh did I tell you I used to be a male?" In a casual context it is not necessary to tell everyone you meet who you are and really it is none of their business, but when a new friendship is at stake, I really don't feel right not being forth coming.

But maybe she doesn't want to know, so if I tell her it becomes Too Much Information.

But if I don't tell her and she finds out (a real possibility), she may be offended that I didn't trust her enough to tell her about myself.

I'm just a bit confused here, ladies. If anyone has had a similar thing happen to them, how did you handle it?

Thanks.

-Sandy

What a nice send off!

What a nice send off!

Today is my last day at work and one of my groupmates joined us for lunch. It was unusual for him to join us, usually he goes and does exercises. I figured that he wanted to visit with me before I head out.

Well, during lunch, he presented me with a wonderful card signed by the people in the office. I was so touched! Yeah, try as I might, I couldn't keep the waterworks from turning on...

I will put the card by my bedside when I am in the hospital. I'm still smiling!

-Sandy

"Who is that?" she asked...

The other day I was playing with my granddaughter. She'll turn three while I'm away. She is very smart, even if you accept that I am such a doting grandmother.

Anyway, at one point she looked up at the mantle over the fireplace and pointed to the picture frame I have there. She asked to see the pictures. I brought it down and we looked at them.

The frame was one of those multiple picture type frames and I have it filled with pictures of her when she was smaller.

One of the pictures was taken at the hospital when she was just a few hours old. Her mom and dad were posed together holding the new arrival.
I pointed to each of the people and asked her who they were. She got her mom and dad right, but she didn't recognize herself. I told her that the tiny baby in the blanket was her when she was very small.

She looked at it for a second and said "OK." And that was all, she accepted what I said and went on.

We looked at other pictures that had her and other people in it, like my ex spouse. She picked up on them just as quickly and also knew who she was in the picture.

Then she pointed to another picture and asked "Who's that?"

I took a deep breath and said "That's grandma Sandy when she was a boy and had a beard."

She looked at it for a second and said "OK." And that was all, she accepted what I said and went on.

I know that I'll have to go into more detail someday, but for now, she is tabular rasa and accepting of the world as it is with no preconcieved notions. And if we're lucky she and hopefully others of her generation will learn the same lesson and simply say: "OK." And move on.

-Sandy

Catching up...

Ok, it's been quite a while since I posted anything, though not because I didn't want to. I've just been very preoccupied.

Coming up in just a couple of weeks is my final operation and I am getting very anxious right about now. Not for any particular reason, just a free floating anxiety. I haven't flown since before 9/11 and I really don't know what to expect. I've heard all sorts of horror stories about being randomly selected for a background check.

I'm not worried about my documentation, about the only piece of documentation that still lists me as male is my birth certificate. My drivers license and my Social Security records all list me as female so I am not particularly worried about that.

Jeez, all this bull and presumption of guilt just to get on a damn plane. I'd rather drive there. Driving there is not the problem. Driving *back* would be incredibly difficult since I'd have to stop three or four times a day to dilate. And I'd be sitting on a donut as well. And be pretty uncomfortable to boot! No, I'll brave the nightmare of preflight security checks and a guaranteed call out by our Patriot Act brown shirts er TSA officers to grope me because I have three pounds of stainless steel in my shoulder. I'm so glad the the government is of the people, by the people, and for the people. It's just that some people are more equal than others...

I'm not worried about the operation. Hell I've spent decades, literally, waiting for this moment. I researched and prepared for years. I've watched so many videos of various doctors performing the gender reassignment surgery that I probably call out which instruments the doctor was using at any particular time. No, once I check into the hospital, I'll probably bliss out until I wake up from the anesthesia.

Anyway, I'm just a little high strung right now. And getting more so as it gets closer to my flight out of here. Also I keep gaining weight when I want to be going in the opposite direction. Stress will either make you gain or lose weight. This time I'm gaining,. If I so much as smell anything sweet, I gain a pound. At least my boobs still stick out farther than my gut. I wish the fat was in my butt though, I'm still kind of flat back there.

A lot of my nervousness also has to do with trying to make sure I've got everything covered before I leave. My travel and lodging arrangements are complete, most of my pre-surgical tests are done and I just have to get my blood work done about March 3rd or so. The Dr. wants the blood work to be no older than two weeks prior to surgery.

Now I have to start thinking of packing. Since I'll be spending a lot of time "exercising", comfort and ease of removal is the fashion tip of the week. So track suits and sweat pants will be my major clothing items. then the standard other things, like shoes, cosmetics and skin care. I'm not sure what sort of consumables I should take, like pads and lube. The doctor said she had some pointers, but I haven't heard back from her yet. Besides, I never start packing until the last minute anyway.

I actually had a point in mind when I started this post and I wandered everywhere accept to the point.

The point was that I haven't posted in a while because I haven't been able to keep a thought in my head long enough to sit down and compose a post!

-Sandy(woman, thy name is DITZ!)

I can never pass...

I can never pass...

It struck me the other day that somewhere along the way, I crossed some sort of barrier and I didn't realize it.

I can never pass as a guy again. No matter what I did, I will always look like a girl in guy clothes.

I could bind my chest, but I'd still have roundness under any tight fitting shirt.

I could put on a false mustache or beard but my softend face would still give me away.

My mannerisms have become quite comfortable for me since I came out. That would probably be the hardest thing to change. That's one of the reasons why I was picked on as a child is because of my feminine mannerisms.

My speech patterns have become distinctly feminine and I would have to think about everything I said to make sure it didn't come out too "girly".

Also I am so used to raising the pitch of my voice, and speaking in a more pinched tone that I would be very consious of keeping my voice low and making sure it didn't start to rise.

Then there are the clothes... I literally don't have a thing to wear! REALLY! I gave away all my guy clothes months ago.

About the only thing left that could be used to help me pass as a guy would be my bone structure but even then I see women on the street all the time that are big boned or large stature.

Like I said I could never pass. And why would I ever want to?!

-Sandy

Time marches on...

Time marches on...

In just over a month, I make my trek to Doylestown for my GRS. All my travel and lodging arrangements have been made, most of my medical tests are done and shipped to Dr. Christine. I'll complete my medical tests early in March since the results have to be no older than two weeks. My genital electrolysis is complete with a touch up scheduled for the end of the month.

It's just a matter of time and watching the clock.

Unlike my FFS/BA which was like an unending wait for "Christmas", this seems much different. If I could put it into some sort of context, I just want it done and behind me. I think women who are pregnant may have the same feeling. Being pregnant can be really tedious and the process of childbirth can be REALLY uncomfortable, but the blessed result is worth all the wait.

I think that's where I'm at right now. I am not so much looking forward to the operation, so much as I am really anxious to have all this behind me. Most of my life has completed it's transition and this is the last piece of the puzzle. I'm not necessarily looking forward to seeing my newly formed genitalia for the first time as I just want it all to be over so I can complete my transition and no longer feel like I am half and half.

I know I'll be taking on a new habit that will be with me for the rest of my life (dilation) and that intercourse will be on a spectrum from numb to mind blowing with a small but measurable chance that I may never have sensation there at all. All of us that walk this path have to realize that. And I think that to most of us, that wasn't the reason we got on this roller coaster. To us, being a woman is so much more, so many things, that simply having a (neo)-vagina doesn't come close to making us feel complete as women, but not having one is like a puzzle with a piece missing (or if you want to be a bit crass a puzzle with a piece that sticks out).

"Like sand through an hourglass, these are the Days of Our Lives." (So-Crates from "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure")

-Sandy

Reverend Brown

Reverend Brown

Piglet has been in communication with one of our mutual acquaintances who I’ll refer to as Reverend Brown.

In bringing him up to date on why she is in Indianapolis and why we are no longer married, he replied that he was happy that everything seemed to be working out and that he was glad I had found my path. “Though of course, I could never condone it.”

Now I’m not going to get all snarky on Reverend Brown like I did on “Rev” Felps. I have worked with this man on many occasions on stage and I know that he has love in his heart and follows his calling. He is a man of great humility and wonderful humor. Also his family is loving and caring. So I know that he truly is happy for me. So we’ll leave the snarkies out of this.

It did make me wonder though. Where does one draw the line between a valid medical condition and a sinful betrayal of God?

Let’s say diabetes. A condition by the way that Reverend Brown must deal with. Of course no one, except a rabid Christian Scientist, would even think of saying that this isn’t a valid medical condition and must be treated.

Well, how about a broken limb? Actually in many cases if nothing is done the limb will heal on its own. Though of course it may heal a little bent. But again no one would hesitate in recommending that it be treated medically.

Let’s leave the physical and go into mental issues. If a person has clinical depression, again, no one would argue for a minute that the best recourse was to seek medical support. Whether that support was drug related or had some sort of surgical intervention would not be questioned.

So what is the bugaboo about gender?

I have not spoken to Reverend Brown since I came out so I have not been able to question him directly about this.

I can speculate that if you say that “God does not make mistakes”, then dealing with medical issues in a medical way does not question faith but perhaps allows the person to become *more* faithful through the fulfillment of medical intervention by relieving them of the propblem they had.

And that if a person has been given a particular internal burden such as transsexuality, and then if they succumb to the inner drive to become true to themselves then are they giving in to sin since they did not use faith and prayer to put those sinful thoughts out of their mind?

Could it not also be that if “God doesn’t make mistakes” and a person follows their heart and becomes true to themselves, couldn’t they also be following a path of faith?

Only Goddess knows…

If anyone has any opinions about this please let me know, for I am truly curious.

-Sandy

How to tell if you are transsexual...

How to tell if you are transsexual...

I'm also sure that the answer has occurred to anyone who has spent any time with an electrologist!

I'm proceeding on with my facial clearing and I am having regular sessions with my electrologist. Fortunately I'm blessed with little facial hair so the amount of time I'll spend getting my face cleared is not all that great. Something on the order of 10 to 20 hours, which is much less than other girls in a similar position.

But still as I lay on the table this last week, and have each hair zapped and the resultant sting that goes with it, and there will be literally thousands of those stings, I realized that no one would do this for *fun*! Also this is not vanity. At least not from the standpoint of wanting to make myself more beautiful. It is to help re-enforce my image as a woman.

There are others who have asked "How can I tell?" as they embark on their journey. All I can say is that if you are willing, and in many cases eager, to put yourself through the discomfort that comes with feminizing your body, then you are trans.

Spend an hour in the chair sometime, and if you not only can endure it but want to come back for more, then you are a transsexual.

I don't know if there are similar issues with FTM transsexuals. Can any of you guys tell us what there might be on your road that might help give an idea as to how to tell?

-Sandy

Reurning to Church...

Piglet had a chance to visit with some old friends of ours while she was up here for the divorce. They were people we knew from church. She set up the dinner after she had been contacted by them following her notification of her moving.

She had dinner with them and afterwards mentioned to me that they had started attending a new church and we were both invited to attend.

These ladies knew about me and the changes I had been through, but had not met me yet. They knew that piglet and I was divorced but wanted us to come to the church anyway.

I’ve been away from major religion for several years. My spirituality dwindled to almost nothing as I descended into the abyss of depression that occupied my life prior to my coming out to myself. I had found some solace in the Native American spirituality, but in no way could you call it an organized religion. It is a very personal thing. Something that I needed at the time, but one cannot be completely involved with spirituality in isolation. A person needs others to be in community with them (the saying “two or more of you are gathered in her name” is the key).

With my transition and change of locations, I really didn’t have time for attending a regular service. But now as my life recovers from my changes, and I start to pick up the pieces, things are starting to return to me. One of the pieces was my involvement with the Anglican Church. I find it interesting that just when I was reminiscing of my times at the church, a door opens for me allowing me to return.

This has happened time and again through my transition. When something was ready for me to take it on, a door would open for me to walk through.

Still I was a little nervous going to that first service. There were several families from the old church that we had attended there and they all had heard about me. As I walked into the undercroft to hang up my coat, piglet visited with some of the people we used to know. I did a quick dash into the restroom to freshen myself up and to get a bit of courage up to go and greet the people I used to know.

I shouldn’t have worried so much, or at all for that matter. I was warmly greeted by the couple of old acquaintances I knew and we all hugged like old friends meeting, which I guess we were. Very soon after that it was time for the service and we went upstairs. We all sat together. The pastor’s sermon talked about constants in change and much of it seemed to speak directly to me. As things change, our connection with Christ (spirit) remains constant.

Throughout the whole service I was overwhelmed with the feeling of having come home.
During the peace, which always struck me as the Anglican version of the seventh inning stretch, I was nearly moved to tears as my new and old friends greeted me.

After the service we returned to the undercroft for coffee hour. I was greeted by just about everyone there. Some of them knew about me most did not. But it didn’t matter, I was greeted warmly and sincerely. I sat with piglet and my friends from the old church. One of the people from the old days is now a Deacon and he asked if I was happy now. I told him I was ecstatically happy. He introduced me to the pastor and she was very happy to see me and wanted to make sure that I came back. I told her I would be.

I also attended the Christmas day service and again I felt that I had found something that I really needed and was missing from my life.

I have come home.

-Sandy

The stbeh...

The stbeh...

This past weekend I visited the stbew in Indianapolis where she moved a couple of months ago. I took some things down there to give to her and she had a few things for me.

Over all it was a pleasent time, we're still amicable and friendly. I also brought my two new kittens to visit with their older siblings. Unfortunately they did not get along so well. The older siblings are used to having the house to themselves and did not appreciate new kittens being brought in. The kittens two were a bit hostile since they were in alien territory. Watching a ten week old kitten trying to out hiss is sort of cute, but not to the kitten of course. Things finally settled down a bit when I moved them to the back bedroom where they could be by themselves.

The spouse said that she would be going to church on Sunday and invited me to go along before I headed back to Chi. It was a nice day and I accepted. I didn't bring any Sunday-going-to-meetin' clothes with me so I dressed casual and put on some light make up.

The service was pleasent and mostly as I remember it. I was a Catholic in my youth so I recalled most of the service. I felt spiritual connection with the congregation and spiritually fullfilled as well.

At the end of the service we exited the church and was greeted by the pastor. The pastor shook my hand and asked my name, I answered Sandy and he asked if I had a last name, and I told him my last name.

All of a sudden he got a surprised look on his face and looked at my spouse. My spouse then said: "Let me introduce you to my soon to be ex-husband, Sandy."

The pastor quickly recovered and said; "Hello Sandy! It's wonderful to meet you! Please come back!" I explained that I was from Chicago but would attend when I was in town. I was amused by the exchange, but not surprised. I was gratified that the pastor was so accepting of me.

When the spouse applied to become a member of the church she had to explain why she was getting a divorce, so the pastor already had an idea of what was going on, and accepted it. I think he was taken aback by having me actually show up at service. Most divorces, of course, are not that amicable so it is unusual that the couple would actually come to the same service together.

What I'm finding is in those situations where I am outed or have to out myself, more often as not I am accepted. There is no recrimination or declaration that I am a sick individual. Heavens! We're almost mainstream!

-Sandy (when did they get rid of latin?)

Before and After

Before and After

Julie and I were chatting the other night and we ended up talking about where we started from.

She mentioned the frightened woman who practically put her in a death grip the first time we went to dinner. I remember those days with amusement and chagrin.

But I also remember the person before that. The one who slumbers now.

I went back in my archives and did a little cut-n-paste and here are the results.

About the only thing in common between those two people is that they're both wearing necklaces.

The beard picture is from May of 2003, just before the inner turmoil in me started into its terminal phase.

The blond picture is from this past Be-All where I have been full time for about six weeks and happier than I have been in my life.

Now if I could have transplanted that beard hair to my head...

What do you think? Is there really that much difference between the two of us? I really can't say, I've been looking at that face for the last fifty five years so I'm too close.

I know many transsexuals would never want to see their old pictures again, let alone post them for public viewing, but I don't feel that way. My past is part of me and I can examine it without reliving it. That is a recent development though.

Enjoy, if nothing else for the giggle factor!

-Sandy

Sandra Goes to Be-All

Sandra Goes to Be-All

Dr Zukowski graciously offered me two days at Be-All as a thank you for signing up for my FFS/BA, which is 47 days from now.

For those who are unfamiliar, Be-All is the largest CD/TV/TS convention in Chicago. People come from all over to attend. It was my first convention of this type that I ever attended.

I have to admit that it was an eye opening experience. I've been to other meetings but this was much larger.

I attended several seminars. Mostly dealing with cosmetics, skin care, and transsexual issues.

I attended Dr. Zukowski's session where he spoke about his skills and services in the area of facial feminization and breast augmentation. He had a very good presentation with many pictures. Also in attendance were many "Z" girl alumni. Being able to speak with women who have already undergone various facial feminization surgeries and in a wide range of post-op was very informative and comforting.

For example, there was one lady who had her surgery in late March of this year. Her skin was still showing a few dark remnants of bruising but all of the surgical scars were well healed. And there were others who were a year or more post operative. Their skin was not only clear of all noticeable surgeries, their faces had firmed up over the implants and bone shaping that was done and all soft tissue had settled back into place. What was quite apparent is that it takes a long time to completely recover from such traumatic procedures. But in the end the results are well worth the effort and in many cases these women are strikingly beautiful. While I would love to be as beautiful as some of these ladies, there is only so much that can be done. Not only are these women good looking now, they also have very petite frames so that their now, very, feminine faces accentuate their body. I have used many adjectives to describe myself, but petite is not one of them (I sometimes feel Sasquatch is a more appropriate term). I will be more than happy to end up with a face and body that combined makes an attractive package. The good doctor has assured me that he could easily accomplish that.

More to the point, what I am hoping for is that Dr Zukowski will be not only my surgeon, but my sculptor as well. A sculptor who will chip away at the shell of me and reveal the woman that has lived within for such a long time.

Also seeing all these beautiful women has made me very anxious for my surgery. I'll be posting more about that as my time grows nearer.

Another seminar that I attended was Dr. Marci Bowers from Trinidad, Colorado. Dr Bowers is one of the preeminate surgeons today in the field of GRS. She has performed over 450 GRS surgeries so far. She was a skilled surgeon well before coming to Trinidad and has been personally instructed by Dr Biber, a pioneer in the field of GRS. Dr Biber passed away in January of last year and Dr Bowers has taken up from Dr Biber. While Dr Bowers specializes in GRS, she also performs breast augmentations, and tracheal shaves.

Dr Bowers also had an impressive presentation. Not only did she show the results of her work, she also showed the repair work she performed on women who had GRS from other surgeons.

I will have GRS, but for now it is still in the future for me. But being able to talk with the doctor and one or two of her patients did give me more information to mull over. I will either go to Dr Bowers or Dr Broussard in Toronto. I will not go overseas or out of country like Mexico or Thailand. In the state of Illinois, where I live, in order to get your birth records properly amended to reflect your true gender, the doctor who performed the surgery must submit a notarized form describing the surgery performed and this doctor must be certified to operate in the United States. Both Dr. Bowers and Dr Broussard have these credentials.

Dr Bowers, in her presentation, described GRS as Genital Reassignment Surgery instead of Gender Reassignment Surgery or Sex Reassignment Surgery. Her intention is to reduce the emphasis about sex these labels have. She feels that this is not about sex or gender but a matter of identity. I can certainly agree with that! As most other people who are post-op, the primary reason for going through this whole process and spending these incredible sums was to bring out who we are. This isn't about what we do, it is about who we ARE! And that is primarily why I want to do this. To finally become who I am.

I found to Dr Bowers, who is herself a post op trans woman, to be sensitive, witty and very compassionate. Also Trinidad, Colorado is a very beautiful area. A wonderful setting to start recovery.

Susan Stanton was a keynote speaker at the gathering but I was unable to make her presentation. I am a little disappointed in that. CNN was at the convention also centering in on her specifically.

Saturday night was the gala ball. It was an opportunity for all the ladies to show off their finest clothes. I had a cream chiffon gown for just the occasion. Julie was my fashion consultant in picking out my outfit and I felt truly beautiful in it. Thanks again, Julie! It was held off site and we had limos to transport us to the event. As we stepped out of the limo, we walked up a red carpet and had video and photos taken of us. It was a movie star moment for me. Later we all climbed on risers for a group photo.

The evening had a wonderful dinner and dancing afterward. It was a wonderful time.

After the event, Dr Z. hosted a hospitality suite back at the hotel. The "Z" girls and everyone else was invited. Now I haven't touched alcohol in more than a decade, but I still was persuaded to sing bad karaoke to old '80s songs, in my gown no less! I must have been a site! But the fun was infectious.

During the course of the time I was there I saw many friends, and made many new ones. I really hadn't expected the depth of warmth and love that everyone exhibited. It was beyond mere acceptance. It was truly love for each other. That's the way it should be!

I'll be posting pictures soon. And maybe a new avatar as well. One of the things I purchased was a new wig and I feel like showing it off. Stay tuned!

-Sandy (-30-)

"Look at Him Swish..."

"Look at Him Swish..."

Ah well, it had to happen sooner or later. I need to always be mindful of my delicate state. Knowing I am a woman and trying to maintain an image that looks feminine even though my body has had to endure the ravages of testosterone.

Most times it works. Most times…

Yesterday I had to stop at the stbew’s house and pick up a few things. Following that I before I hit the road back to my place, I decided to stop at the supermarket to pick up some groceries.

I was feeling really good about myself. I was wearing one of my new summer dresses that Julie helped pick out and I really liked the way I looked.

Having been out full time for over a month now and 24x7-40 before that since January, I have no real qualms about going anywhere public. Going to the grocery store is one of the first places I went when I started being out more and more.

It was still warm, early evening and still light when I entered the store. As soon as I entered the store I notice two older women standing by the checkout counters. For and instant I make eye contact with them. And that was all it took. Instantly I was clocked. One of them nudged the other and pointed at me. Then they started giggling. As I got my cart I had to walk by them. Not too close, but close enough to hear them chatter. As I passed them the giggling turned into outright laughter. “Hey honey, what are you doing here?” and “Look at him swish!”

I’m sure others heard them and looked to see what all the chatter was about. It took all my concentration to keep from running around the corner. I maintained my normal walk, but I did turn down the first aisle I passed.

My heart was racing and my adrenaline was flowing. The fight-or-flight syndrome was hitting me big time. I took my time and just walked as casually as I could down the aisle and across the back of the store. The front of the store wasn’t visible from the back of the store so I couldn’t see if those two magpies where still in the store. I had presumed that they were getting ready to leave since they were waiting at the cash registers.

I was still spooked. I was looking at just about everyone to see if they read me. Normally I don’t do that. Most men won’t make eye contact with a woman, and most women who make eye contact will acknowledge another woman with a smile.

I cruised the back of the store for about ten minutes before I got the courage up to go to the front. By then they were gone. After that I continued my shopping. But I was still a bit flustered and ended up forgetting a couple of items. When I checked out, I went to the regular check out and gave the lady my items and my discount card. She never even blinked when she looked at me and said “Thank you, ma’am” when she handed my card back. I needed that. I needed to have that little bit of confidence rebuilding to get my self esteem out of the bucket. I smiled at her and thanked her when she gave me my receipt. I started to feel more like the woman I am instead of a guy in a dress which is how those two managed to make me feel.

Maybe it was late, and maybe I was tired, and my walk was too masculine. Maybe I had my wig on backwards, in the end it doesn’t matter. I got read. It has happened before and it will happen again. Even after my FFS. Maybe not as often, but sooner or later, someone, somewhere will have the intuitive feeling that there is more to me than meets the eye.

Hopefully the next time it won’t be quite as humiliating an event as this last one. It was the most humiliating clocking I’ve ever had. I pray that the rest of them will not be as bad as that. I can only imagine if those magpies had been guys instead. It could have turned ugly, very ugly.

This is the life I have chosen. I did not choose to be transsexual, but I did choose to come out. And in that, I accept all the problems as well as the joys that go along with that. And the joys have far out weighed the problems. This is my life and I am enjoying the heck out of it now!

Ladies and Gentlemen of the trans community: be careful out there! Things can happen in an heartbeat that will ruin your whole day! Be very aware of your surroundings. Don’t take chances!

-Sandy (humbled but not broken)

My orchiectomy

My orchiectomy

I wanted to come up with a title that was a little bit more interesting, but I really couldn't come up with any ideas. Though it does make me think that with a title like that, it ought to be an article in a Readers Digest...

As part of my process of transition I have been contemplating having a bilateral orchiectomy. At my last appointment with my doctor I discussed the advantages of having it done now rather than at the time of SRS.

The physical part of the process will allow me to reduce the amount of spironolactone that I take dramatically. I had originally thought that I could eliminate it all together, but, according to my doctor, I'll need to suppress the testosterone produced by my adrenal glands as well so I'll be taking it for that.

The other part is psychological. It gives me a great deal of psychological comfort not to be burdened with this primary sign of masculinity any longer. I don't despise my genitalia, it has given me much joy over the years, I just view it as raw material to be used to correct this severe birth defect I have been afflicted with. But my testes no longer serve any useful purpose in my life and I feel better off without them. I know that the conventional wisdom has it that you should not have an orchiectomy prior to SRS as there could be so much shrinkage of scrotal tissue as to make it difficult to have enough tissue for the labiaplasty. Though from what I've read and been told, I have had significant shrinkage already from the spironolactone causing my testes to atrophy in the first place. Also if you look at the Trinidad sight there is mention of prior orchiectomies not being a problem and not really reducing the cost of SRS at all. It would be different if I were an early onset transsexual.

My surgery is scheduled for this Thursday. I've been told that I'll be laid up for about a week and be in some post operative discomfort. But it should pass, hopefully soon! There are all the jokes about pets and getting fixed that have gone through my mind. But I am a bit more serious about that right now and I don't feel like being flip. Any surgery should be reviewed with all seriousness so I am not the jovial woman you've come to know. I've started taking some irreversible steps in my life to be a woman in society. But up to now there was always that little voice in the back of my head that said if I really wanted to, I could go back. Though you could probably use a stopwatch to measure how fast I would go into depression. This is my first surgically irreversible step. And just like when I went full time, I'm having just a little bit of C.L.O.D. This is really *really* REALLY irreversible! And the "ARE YOU SURE?" button is solidly lit up in my mind. And yes, I keep pressing the "YES DO IT!" button.

Julie thinks I'm just a little bit 'round the bend. From her practical standpoint, she asks why incur that extra expense and time off when it will be taken care of by SRS?

Her dog Baron keeps looking at me and getting the look on his face like: "Hey they did that to me without my consent. You're going to get yours cut off intensionally? What are you nuts?!?!"

Then he bends down and licks himself and looks at me again with a look that says "Even if you do, you *still* won't be able to do THAT!"

Alright serious time is over jovial woman is back!!!

I'll be making additional entries post operatively.

And please keep me in your thoughts and prayers. Thank you.

-Sandy

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It's 3:00 in the afternoon on Wednesday, tomorrow morning is my operation, and I'm getting nervous as hell!

I just got the phone call from the hospital saying that I must report to the same-day surgery center at 06:00. I have to be NPO after midnight. I had arranged to be driven to the hospital by my daughter, but it is much earlier than we had planned. She has to drive from the south suburbs of Chicago to the west suburbs to get me, then we have to go to the north side of Chi to get to the hospital. Sheesh! I've put a call into her, but haven't gotten a call back as yet.

If worse comes to worse, I guess I could drive myself up there and have my daughter and son-in-law take me back and drive my car back too.

Like I said, I'm getting nervous. I knew I should have saved some of those Valiums for me instead of giving all of them to Julie.

BTW: Julie is a day worker and really can't break away to drop me off, so don't get down on her, OK?

BTW:BTW: For those of you satirically challenged, neither Julie nor myself use recreational drugs. It's a joke! Get it?

Anyway, I figure that from the early arrival time, I may be one of the first to go. Which is good, less time to worry. And I don't even know what to worry about! I want this operation, I'm not afraid of being operated on (I've had operations before), so I don't know what the heck is going on in my head. I'm sure Julie will have a way of settling my butt down. I just want it to be over.

This morning I asked Julie if she wanted to get a call from my daughter when the operation was done. She just replied: "Why? The vet didn't call when Baron was done..." She has such a way to make me smile/laugh/guffaw.

One of the questions the surgeon asked me was whether or not I wanted my scrotum removed as a part of the operation. I replied that I wanted it left in place for subsequent GRS. To remind her, I think I'll write "Do not remove scrotum!" on my abdomen just to make sure she remembers. It may give her a smile when I'm wheeled in and they take the sheet off me.

-Sandy (nervous!)

_________________________________

Everyone! Thanks again for all your kind words and prayers! I'm sure that is why I am feeling so well! I have very little discomfort, and virtually no pain. I feel great!

Now let us return to that fateful morning...

Actually the previous night. I was so nervous! Julie had given me a hug and told me everything would be alright. Then she had to get to bed because of work. I stayed up much later. I knew I should have gone to bed but I really wasn't tired. I checked the alarm clock about a dozen times before I crawled in bed.

I had set the alarm for abort 3:00 am because of the trip we'd have to make. I wanted plenty of time to get ready.

My daughter picked me up about 4:30 and we headed out to the hospital. As you would imagine, traffic at that hour of the morning is extremely light and we made great time.

We got to the hospital about 5:25 and made our way up to the same day surgery center. I checked in with the person at the desk and noticed I was the first to sign in.

Even though my male name was what was used to register me I dressed casually, but feminine and wore makeup and my wig. The wonderful staff never blinked or gave any indication about the discrepancy.

After I got checked in and had my id bracelet put on, I was shown to the dressing room where I was instructed to change into a gown and slippers. I changed into the gown and put all my clothes (and wig) in a storage bag. The staff person showed me a locker to put my things. I was then taken to a waiting area and put on a gurney.

My daughter joined me a few minutes later. We had a chance to talk for about fifteen minutes. In that time I started to get a little bit of cold feet. I wondered if this was really what I wanted. The enormity of this life altering event started to weigh heavily on my mind. I got a little weepy with my daughter and she held my hand and soothed me.

Then it dawned on me. What was bothering me all along was the fact that the staff was required to deal with me and call me by my male name. I hated that. I knew they didn't have any choice but it still grated none the less. Also, then it called forth that slumbering persona that I had never thought I would hear from again. He whispered to me, "What are you doing! Men don't do this!"

Then I realized what was going on. I realized that this was for ME, Sandy! Once I realized that, I became completely calm. My faith and confidence returned. And I became anxious to move on.

Soon I was wheeled to the prep area. Most of that time was spent waiting. I must have waited over an hour. But in that time I was seen by the doctor of anesthesiology and other staff member to take my vitals and prepare me for surgery.

When I originally talked to my surgeon about the operation, she recommended that I go general anesthesia rather than local. She remarked that it can be a little tricky to completely numb the area using a local other than a spinal block. So that's what we agreed to.

Once everything was prepped, I was wheeled to the operation suite waiting area. A little bit after that the doctor came around and checked on me. And wanted to know if I had any questions.

The only question I had was that one of the documents I signed indicated my diagnosis. On there was the diagnosis of Gender Dysphoria. In my original discussions with my doctor and then the surgeon, they said the would use a different diagnosis so that there wouldn't be any problems with the insurance. With the diagnosis of GID on the document I was concerned that my insurance would be denied. She assured me that this would clear and would be the proper way to submit the paperwork to the insurance company. She understood my need for the operation and had consulted with my doctor about my case and they both agreed that this procedure was necessary to my health and well being. I'm somewhat comforted, but I'll feel a lot better when I see the paperwork clear. Also now I have an official medical diagnosis of GID from a second doctor. Not that I need more affirmation about who I am. But I am comforted.

After that the anesthesiologist came and gave me another shot. She said I would be put to sleep so that they could put me on a respirator. I was disappointed that I wouldn't be able to see my doctors face when she saw what I wrote on my abdomen. I was about to say that when...

***LIGHTS OUT***

The next thing I really notice is that a nurse is asking me if I feel nauseous. I'm in the recovery room and I've lost about an hour or so of my life. I didn't even remember getting sleepy! I could feel that I had been operated on and I had some pain. But nothing really major. I was somewhat nauseous though and somewhere in the haze I said that I was and they gave me another shot and I soon felt much better.

My daughter was there with my clothes and asked how I felt. The fog quickly lifted and I also realized I was completely parched. I had been NPO since midnight and I was very thirsty.

The nurse gave me some ginger ale and I think I sucked it down in one gulp. Over the next hour or so I came completely awake and aware. I was asked how I felt several times and had my IV pulled. I also had a sandwich I was hungry! One of my friends also came to see me. She brought me a teddy bear as a gift. She is so sweet. I know she lurks here and reads my blogs so I want to say "Thank you!". The three of us chatted for a time as I became strong enough to put my clothes on. When I did, the medical staff felt I was strong enough to go home. While they talked to my doctor she didn't come to see me, so I won't find out what she thought about my note until I see her again.

I was wheeled out to the car and said goodbye to my friend. My daughter took me back home.

I've been taking it pretty easily since then. Mama Julie makes sure I do. She is such a mother hen. She makes sure I don't lift anything too heavy and asks how I am feeling and makes sure I don't do anything too strenuous. She is such a dear.

I have had virtually no pain since the operation. I have a prescription for vicoden, but only had to use one. I've heard many stories about how others had a lot of discomfort and pain, but I guess those perhaps were the exceptions. Anyway, I feel great.

And I am very happy to have had it done. Having removed one (or two!) of my primary signs of masculinity comforts me greatly.

...and yes, the doctor *did* follow my request...

-Sandy

One more nail in the guy's coffin

One more nail in the guy's coffin

I was over at the stbewh and dropped off some empty boxes for her to pack. Earlier in the week, she had sent an email asking what I wanted done with the male/unisex clothes I had left behind.

I had told her to toss or give to Goodwill. While I was there on Saturday, I carried several large bags of male clothes to the truck for her to give to Goodwill.

Of course I was doing this as myself. I only Dress Resembling A Boy for work. I felt a very little bit of remorse knowing I was burning another bridge. Another nail in the coffin of barry. The rest of me felt almost nothing except an increasing anticipation and anxiety facing my first day on the job in just under 36 days.

In all though, much of it was just a symbolic gesture. Most of the clothes were ones that I should have thrown out or given away years ago. I took all the clothes I use for work and casual when I left her in the first place. The rest were clothes that were no longer my size (by a lot!).

But it said something, at least to me. I'm not going back. Not in those clothes, not in that life.

And I feel good about that.

-Sandy(36 days and counting)

I want to burn the bridge.

I want to burn the bridge.

It's a little odd. Over the last few weeks I've become so impatient with myself and my progress. Now, I know I've been shot out of a cannon, or as Julie likes to say I'm FedEx'ing my transition. I know there are so many who take so much longer. So I know I am truly blessed at all my good fortune to be where I am at. And I truly believe that! I'm currently 24x7-40. My wardrobe is growing with every swipe of the credit card (poor thing is severely bruised).

I'm actively pursuing my transition at work with HR and management. It will happen. But not tomorrow. The same with my body. Like a pre-pubescent girl I look at myself in the mirror and just cry sometimes! I feel like nothing is happening. But of course I know (intellectually) that there is. There has been some really dramatic changes in my body over the last few months. And I really appreciate them. It's just that sometimes I feel frustrated.

Not that I'd fly out to Thailand or bypass the SOC, but I just want to be out of these bloody guy clothes! I want to be transitioned! I want my legal name change completed!

What I really want is to do something irreversible. Something that will prevent me from ever being able to go back and pretend to be a guy ever again. Every step in the SOC is designed to put off the irreversible steps as long as possible to allow for buyers remorse and allow the patient the maximum amount time to make a thorough, well thought out decision.

Well I've been thinking about it for 50 years, doesn't that count? I've thought it over, and being a guy really sucks. It's as simple as that.

-Sandy

Put to the test... UPDATED

Put to the test... UPDATED

Having made the commitment to be 24x7-40 (out everywhere but work, for now) I knew there would come a time when I would either be outed or have to out myself in order to complete a financial transaction.

Well, I was put to *that* test tonight! Julie and I were out grocery shopping. She had already purchased her stuff and was just waiting for me to finish checking out.

I used the self check out lane and everything went normally until I swiped my credit card. The cash register said "Please wait for assistance".

The lady controlling the register came up to me and said, "Ma'am, I just need to see a photo ID. It's normal for purchases over fifty dollars."

My purchase was well over that. I took a deep breath, reached into my purse, pulled out my clutch opened it and showed her my drivers license.

She visibly jumped (it was the beard, I'm sure!) but made no other remark and said "Thank you ma'am. That will be fine." I said thank you. and finished putting my purchases into my cart. She was very nice.

I asked if I could get a shopping card application. She said yes, but I would have to fill it out there. But I would get my card immediately. I wanted to fill it out at home so I said I would fill it out the next time I came. She smiled and said "Have a nice night!"

Other than being a little shaken by the experience, I wasn't upset by it. I didn't go screaming into the night. I didn't purge, I didn't swear that I'll never go back there. I will shop there again, and quite probably be assisted by that same lady when I go back for my discount card.

There was a time not all that very long ago that I would have been terrified and severely traumatized by that experience. I would have questioned my femininity and probably made it a topic with my therapist.

That was then, this is now.

I'm going to transition before the end of the year. Maybe sooner, maybe a lot sooner. So I have to be ready for this. Until I can get my name legally changed and my ID's properly re-issued, I have to be ready for this. It's GOING to happen again and again.

This is the life I committed to. I am all woman. Society just hasn't quite caught up yet.

I'm willing to give them time to adjust.

-Sandy

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June 12, 2007

Just an FYI.

I went back to that same grocery store just yesterday. I used the self service register. As fate would have it, I swiped my credit card and sure enough, the total was over fifty dollars. The register came up with "Please Wait for Assistance".

The lady controlling the register came over to me and said "Ma'am, I just need to see a photo ID. It's normal for purchases over fifty dollars". I swear it was the exact same sentence said the exact same way. It was deje-vu all over again... But this time it was a different lady.

This time I reached into my purse and took out my wallet and showed her my drivers license. She glanced at the name and verified that it was the same name on the credit card and said "Thank you, ma'am."

I thanked her and smiled broadly back at her. She had no idea why I was smiling so much...

-Sandy(My drivers license picture looks much better now!)

Intro...

Intro...

Alright everyone seems to have one. What to say here...

I asked for this blog because I wanted a place to document my transition. I'm hoping to make this year, 2007, my time to go 24/7.

My goal is to legally change my name to Sandra Louise before the start of 2008. Next year is the start of the REAL ID ACT. And any change requested to primary documentation like your birth certificate must be approved by them. Regardless of whether or not you have a judgment formally changing your status. And as I understand it they can refuse your request on a whim with no due process to address it. Another liberty eroded away by our progressive administration...

Anyway, I want to change my name. To do that I also want to be out 24/7 by that time so I can also have things like my drivers license and credit cards changed to reflect the new name.

I've already contacted a person at my company to discuss the issues of me coming out at work. The down side is that they don't have a formal guideline for transsexuals. The up side is that they want my participation in creating one (and living it of course). There is also a trans man about to come out so we'll be working together to come up with the presentation to management. Wow...

So I'll be using this forum to describe what goes on in my life as I try to live my life the way I feel I always should have...

Now that I'm thinking so seriously of doing this, I'm starting to get cold feet a little bit because of all the things that I'll have to do. Wardrobe, makeup, passing, all of this and more, *all of the time*. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. So I'm trying to put things in order and try to come up with a plan.

The alternative, of course, is not an option. At least for me. To go back, to try and pretend I'm a guy again... No. It's not for me. I'm just scared of all the unknowns. A common human trait.

I've been encouraged by others who have gone before me. The men and women on this list and our historical predecessors like Christine Jorgensen and Wendy Carlos. I feel I owe those who come after me some small effort to help make their life and transition easier. However that can be done. And this blog is one of them.

Of course your comments are appreciated as well! Please feel free to give me your feelings and opinions. The more perspectives I have the better!

If I live through all this, then, maybe, I'll look at SRS and FFS. Cost of course is an issue, but starting my life the way it is supposed to be has to come first.

Thanks!

-Sandy