Part 3 SRS -
I don’t think I could say enough about Yvonne. She was there through every part. She spent about 8 hours a day in the hospital beside me and when she wasn't’ there, she was out running errands, getting real food, and trying to take some small amount of time for herself. I was busy in the hospital, lying there with the constant barrage of
people cleaning the room, the nurses coming in and out, the assistant nurses coming in and out, the hospital staff checker, the chefs checking on my food, the order takers of my food, the occasional ts wondering in the room for a chat and sometimes the wrong
person coming in the room. I was busy with all that activity while Yvonne just had to worry about me. Never go to surgery without a person there to support you. Not
everyone will have a partner like I do, but everyone can have a friend.
By this time, I was up and walking the halls, small may they be, with my little friend (catheter) with one or another of the ts’s having had surgery slowly walking around. The hospital was obviously built in the 60’s. The architecture would prove that. And it wasn’t a big place. In the lobby, they had a small tribute to Dr. Biber , who made Trinidad Colorado the Sex Change Capital of the world. The tribute was quite a quirky one. My nice way of saying, sort of bizarre…. There were only a few pictures of him with some t’s there. Most were pictures of monogenders, his family, staff, etc. And our pictures were not placed so prominent. Sad really.
There was talk that the hospital administration was trying to get Dr Bower to quit doing the srs in the hospital. They were being rather uncooperative. Strangely, the town, specifically, the down town, were up in arms over that, since SRS is the only industry there. No matter where we went, to eat, to shop, etc, people were thrilled to see us. Seems the only gender they saw was money and quite frankly, good for them. We were being treated like every other tourist. Imagine, they have been doing srs there 40 years and some small minded bigots were trying to get her to move out. She already is doing some work in Washington. Anyway, apparently, the hospital did know what side of the bed their labiaplasty was KYed on.
After 4 days in the hospital, I was finally released to the Guest House, where I spent two more days. It was much nicer and there was actual color and art work on the walls. I had gotten fairly tired of looking at green walls. I did have the window to look out. And the Guest House had real tv with lots of channels and goddess, a bed that was comfortable. And that is where Yvonne and spent our next two days there. It was much nicer and certainly homier.
My roommate there was a great lady. A bit older than me. But what a trooper. She was there by herself and just seemed so strong. She was quite amazing. I got to know her quite well in the short time we were together. She did her transition by herself and had just found a job after her divorce. She did manage to keep contact with her sons and they were quite accepting. She was quite a lady. I have enormous respect for her and her ability to just move forward. She didn’t have a great support group and community like we have here. So, she was quite surprised by that. She did join transhouston, but I haven't’ had a chance to chat with her since that time. I will give her a call soon. She left for home the day before I checked out of the Guest House.
In the other part of the Guest House complex, there was another ts couple. They were lovers. One had already had her srs 22 weeks before and her partner was there doing her srs. So, one evening we all sat outside on the porch and chatted. Marci and Carol, came by and we all had a very nice talk. It was so nice to feel that connection. I came to like Marci Bower even more after that. It’s a small town and there isn’t a lot of pretense. The next day, I check out of the Guest House and Yvonne and I went back to the hotel. We stayed there two more days. This was my first time away from any supervision from any medical person. I had to really start my dilating. I was certainly scared when I started.
Every day was a new day. I had to learn how to pee again. I had to do my first poop in 4 days. I was nervous. End of part 3.
The
first 2 days out of surgery were like living in a bee hive. Every 4 hours they
would come in and check on me. So rest and/or sleep was something that I could
only think about. I wasn’t in a lot of pain but I did take like ½ a percaset
and ½ an Ambien. That all seemed to work well for me. And when I did take those
at night, I did sleep.
All the first night was them checking on my
dressing and how tight it was. I seemed to be leaking more than they were
comfortable with, so about 2 am, still part of the first day of surgery, they
removed the tape and redressed my new surgery. So, how sticky is tape they use
in the hospital to hold dressings in place? And pulling the tape that was stuck
to the insides of my thighs and slightly attached to my woo haa, how much could
that hurt? Insert the word OUCH here for about 3 minutes. Oh, and then of
course, they had to redress it. Ouch for a 4 more minutes. I did get in touch
with how utterly helpless I was. I could barely roll on my side. And I had to
do that several times. And remember, I was attached to my “little friend” and
to the other drain. If there was pain, it came from them.
I was so
glad to see the morning light and the miserable breakfast they tried to feed
me. Yvonne came back and was there by my side. It was so nice to have some
aspect of normalcy around me. We talked and mostly I just laid there. About
this time, my room mate Debbie came in from her surgery. She was still under
the anesthesia and it took her a few hours before she came too.
I tried
to get comfortable in the most uncomfortable bed ever and flipped channels on
the TV trying to find something to take my mind off just lying there.
Eventually Debbie awoke and we began to get to know each other. She was from
Dallas and she had a support person, Nadine. Debbie slept quite a bit and she didn’t
care that I had the TV remote. Mostly, we kept the sound off and just looked at
the pictures.
Yvonne
would take a break after lunch and get out of the boring hospital room. I guess
they had not heard of art. Seriously, it was the most gloomy place I had been. Fortunately,
I was near the window, so I could look outside. And the weather did appear to
be lovely, but a bit cool in the morning. Yvonne came back later in the
afternoon and we just talked about how we felt, etc. We watched the staff go
through their functions, mopping the floor, emptying the garbage cans. There
was an older woman next door, and often during the day and night, she would
just moan. Omgoddess, the moaning. She was hard of hearing, so the staff had to
shout at her. Yvonne and I would just roll our eyes at each other. And yes,
this went on for the 4 days I was in the hospital.
Yvonne
left about 7 pm that evening and headed back to the motel so she didn’t have to
drive in the dark. And that was when time seemed to creep by. As the night
staff visited me and the shift change occurred at 7 pm, I was told that
tomorrow, the 2nd day, I would be up and walking. Just to be able to
get out of that horribly uncomfortable bed would have been a treat. I was
looking forward to walking but wondering what sort of new pain and experience I
would encounter. Dinner, if you can call it that, came as was rejected. And I
was back to taking my hrt and my blood pressure meds. Gosh, I did have the
momentary illusion that things were normal, ha ha ha ha ha ha.
At about
8 or 9 am on the 2nd day, it was time for Lilly to stand. And this
was no simple feat. Just getting me upright, with my little friend and my JP
drain all aligned did take 4 other people besides me. The put the Blood Pressure
Cuff on me, moved my IV around and had me stand and turn 180 degrees. They had
placed a chair behind me so I could sit if I had to. Sitting down hard on my
woo haa didn’t seem like a good choice ever.
As I
stood and the pain from my back induced from the bed left my body, a sense of
relief over came me. And then my blood pressure dropped like a stone. Normally,
I have had high BP for years, apparently since birth. And I take daily BP med
for the last 17 years. And I’ve had to take more as I have gotten older to keep
it under control. I remember standing there and saying, gosh, it’s like I can’t
hear as well. The room was slightly fading and I was beginning to slump.
It was
at this moment that Yvonne came in the room to see how I was doing that
morning. According to her, I was trembling and shaking and the staff was trying
to hold me up. She told me that she thought I was having a seizure or a heart
attack and she was freaking out. From my point of view, I didn’t lose consciousness
and was happy to be sitting in the chair. But, really, that scared me to the
core. I think the fear was so great because I didn’t have any testicles to
reproduce testosterone. That was when I gave myself to the Goddess and knew I
was in her hands. Yvonne rushed over and my BP raised it self back up and I was
able to hear and speak again.
They
inched me back into bed and later Marci told me to stop taking my BP meds and
let’s try this again tomorrow. Later that evening, I did manage to stand for a
brief minute, but I was so scared when I tried. Every thought of being trapped,
dying, something went wrong with the surgery, etc , etc was going through my
head. Yvonne stayed close for that day.
I did feel better as the day progressed. I had so many problems finding something
I could eat, that at least gave me a cause to fight for.
The food
staff would come in and interview me about what exactly I wanted for each meal.
They would write it down. My food would come, with the paper that they had
written it down on and the food on my tray did not resemble anything that was
written on the paper. They had send me mashed potatoes, something I could eat,
but they had put chicken gravy on top of them. This is where I encounter the
ignorance of people about being vegetarian. Now, please remember, both my
roommate and I are vegetarians. And Marci Bowers and her partner Carol are vegetarians.
So I know this was not a new concept for them.
Inevitably,
people ask me, “always”, do you eat fish? Is our educational system so poor,
that people believe that fish are a part of the Plant Kingdom. So after
explaining, once more, that I don’t eat anything with a face, or gravy made
from animals, or pork fat, or bacon, they were finally getting close to an
education. They sent the cooks down to talk to us. And lo and behold, the next
day they prepared Tempe. Now they had never heard of tempe before, but they had
managed to prepare it and put a vegetable gravy on top. I have to say here,
gosh it was delicious. They said they had tasted it and they also thought it
was very good. So, we made the break though. The food improved and that was
good. Of course, Yvonne was bringing me Subway Sandwiches so I did have
something to eat. And she would also bring me salads which did help me through
my period of educating the kitchen staff. End of part 2
April
30, 2009 was the day I had chosen for my GRS. Yvonne and I left Houston on the
afternoon of April 25th. We drove, chatted about everything and
spent the nights in Decatur and Dalhart Texas. On the third night we spent the
night in Trinidad Colorado.
Trinidad
is a very small town, with the allure of the “western downtown” the small cozy
streets with the neon lights. The restaurants were trendy and open really
bizarre hours. The Food was good, even for a vegetarian, but finding places
open was quite tricky.
On Wed
April 29th, I went to Dr. Bowers office for my appointment met the
staff. We talked, Marci explained more about the process than I wanted to
really know. After that we went to “HomeTown Drugstore”, (real name with big
dead animal heads on the wall). The healing and death metaphor didn’t slip pass
me. I was given my gallon jug with some powder in the bottom. I had to go back
to the motel room and mix this white powder with a gallon of cool water. Chill
it down and then drink the whole gallon as fast as possible.
The
purpose of this was to clean out your stomach, small intestines and especially
the large intestines. Inwardly, I’m thinking, “And I’m not even at the hospital
yet and this is horrible”. Finally, the gallon passed through me and I was as
clean as I had ever known myself to be. And nothing after midnight and before
that only clear liquids. So, I was having low blood sugar while being happy/nervous/can’t
believe it/omgoddess and they take me to my room before the surgery. And guess
what!?!?!?!? I got to have an enema because my anal port wasn’t sore enough.
Finally,
they take me to the pre-surgery room and hooked me up and asked me some
baseline question and told me that they would ask me those same questions again
about 20 more times. By the time I was actually given the knock out drugs, when
they would ask the 1st question, I answered all the rest. I’m am
such a smart ass.
Next
thing I know, I’m awake looking at the ceilings with hot air balloon posters. I
ask if I am in the recovery. They, whoever they are, say, yes you are. Next the bed is moving and I shout out, “Where
are we going?”. And the mysterious they say, “We are taking you to your room,”
they said mechanically. And next thing I know, they are crashing my bed into
the door frame, into the other bed, into the other wall and finally into my
safe space next to the windows so I could jump out if necessary.
There
was a flurry of activity as I was being hooked up to IV’s, J&P drain, and the
catheter, my little friend. I wasn’t in
pain but I didn’t feel out of it. I was talking with everyone. All the anesthesiologist
kept coming into the room, saying that my color was so good. I kept saying, I’m
awake, that why and alive. And harking back to my own 50’s movie line quotes, I
said, “She’s alive!!! She’s alive!!!”. The line from the “Bride of Frankenstein”
as Elsa Lanchester rises from the table.
Finally
I was settled in and the staff left and Yvonne and I had a chance to reconnect.
I had told her to not hang out at the hospital and be bored but to go shopping.
She did get out and that was good. You can’t know how tough this can be on your
partner until you have someone you love support you through this. Yvonne and I have known each other for 25 years.
So, yes, she knew me before. She has always been my strongest supporter. So
here we were, at the end of this part of the physical journey just starting the
healing. I tried to explain how much it meant to me for her to be there. She
had to put her own feelings and fears to the side and deal with all my fears.
She was there everyday, sitting in the hospital for like 8 hours a day. Wow!
It was
getting late, about 7 pm and Yvonne needed to drive back to the motel. The main
drag’s speed limit was 25 mph. Even though the trip wasn’t long, driving that
street each day was a pain. I finally went to sleep in the most uncomfortable
bed I had ever been in. It took me two days to figure out how to adjust it so I
wasn’t uncomfortable. I could have some ice chips, mmmm water was sooooooooo
good.
