Disordered Identity

15 Days Post-Op - Home Sweet Home

2012-03-08T21:28:00.003-07:00

"Home, where my thought’s escaping,
Home, where my music’s playing;
Home, where my love lies waiting,
Silently for me."

-- Simon and Garfunkel, Homeward Bound

Just after my last post, we went in to get the packing and catheter removed. Happy day!

The trip back in to the office was exhausting, and even the cushy couch in the waiting room was stupidly uncomfortable. We didn't actually see Dr. Bowers, but saw an assistant I'd worked with a little before, Melissa. After calling me back, she had me undress from the waist down and get in to a gynecology-type chair.

First, she drained the balloon holding the catheter in place, then counted to three and tugged it out. There was a terrible sensation for all of five seconds or so, but it quickly faded. Next, she reeled out the packing, which was apparently a very long single strip of gauze, wound back and forth. Fortunately, this made it pretty easy (if time consuming) to remove without any pain. Once both were out, I immediately felt a lot better.

Next, Melissa showed me how to dilate. I had forgotten my dilators at the room, so she showed us with one she had in the office. She applied lubricant and anti-bacterial gel, then slowly and carefully inserted it. It was strange and uncomfortable, but not exactly painful. Then she removed it and had me try. It was a little tough getting the angle right, but Melissa was patient, and after a slight struggle I managed. Normally, I'll have to keep the dilator in place for 15 minutes at a time, but this time she had me remove it right away, told me to swap lower nakedness for upper nakedness, and left the room to get Dr. Beck (my breast augmentation surgeon).

I forgot to mention in my last post, but we've actually been a little nervous and frustrated with regards to Dr. Beck, because he didn't visit at all while we were in the hospital. When he came in to the room, right away he started explaining that he'd had a personal emergency come up, something very major, and apologized profusely for not being able to see me sooner. Him bringing it up first made me feel loads better, and no harm, no foul, I suppose, since Dr. Bowers was keeping an eye on me.

Dr. Beck talked to me about maintenance and about having my stitches removed by a doc back home, then showed me some exercises to help keep the scar tissue around the implant from contracting. I'm really happy with the size, which is in the large B to small C range (just a little bigger than I was padding them to before), and they get softer and more shapely by the day. The stitches will hopefully be removed by the local doc that I'm seeing next week.

On Wednesday, the day after my follow-up, a friend who I game with online (but who I'd never met in person) offered to come visit! He and his fiancée offered to drive down from Berkeley, almost an hour away. I felt a little guilty, having them drive that far to hang out with people they'd never met, but he was very sweet and encouraging.

That morning, I managed to take a shower and wash my hair without feeling like I was going to pass out by the end, which was good progress. They arrived in the afternoon, and the four of us sat around in the hotel room chatting randomly for a couple of hours. It was surprisingly not awkward, thanks to both of them being very sociable and generally awesome people. As evening rolled around, we decided to go out to eat, and they suggested BJ's, a California-based chain with a location just 10 minutes away.

Erin has celiac disease, and can't eat wheat. Though we can usually find something for her to eat just about anywhere, we were pleasantly surprised to find out that BJ's has specific gluten-free options. The friends graciously drove, the restaurant service was good, and the food was delicious. Admittedly, I may have pushed myself a little too hard, which was compounded by our dessert taking far too long to arrive. Expending energy seems to turn my body in to a furnace right now, and by the end I was hot, sore, and exhausted. Still, it was worthwhile for me to get in some social interaction with such great people, and for Erin to relax with a couple of drinks and some yummy gluten-free pizza. It was also beneficial as a test-run for having to fly home just a few days later.

Around that time, I received a couple of Facebook messages from friends-of-friends saying that they'd read and appreciated this blog, which means a lot to me. Thanks to Google Analytics, I've always known that I have readers scattered around the world, but it was very heartening to hear such wonderful unsolicited encouragement. To anyone out there reading, please know that I keep this blog completely public on purpose, and that even if what I post seems somewhat personal, you are welcome to read and comment as long as it's not TMI for you. =)

On Saturday, we packed up and checked out of the hotel, then drove to the San Francisco airport. We'd called ahead and asked for wheelchair assistance, but I still had to walk and wheel a bag from the rental car drop-off to the luggage check. Thankfully, SFO has a cool tram system, and it wasn't that far, but I was still pretty tired by the time we got to the Delta desk.

I mentioned the wheelchair as soon as we got there, and I'm sure they could see that I was sweating and having a tough time, but for some reason they didn't offer any sort of extra assistance, or even seem empathetic at all, which made me kind of mad. They also didn't call for the wheelchair until we were done with everything, and then the lady who made the call disappeared, forcing the wheelchair assistant to search all over for her while we waited. >_<

After that, however, it was pretty smooth sailing. The wheelchair assistants and TSA people were very nice. The Delta agent at the gate let us board first, and even moved us to seats near the front of the plane, so we would be able to deplane much easier and faster. As we taxied out to the runway, I took two percocets and quickly zonked out. After sleeping most of the way to SLC, there was a wheelchair waiting for us on the jet bridge. Erin's oldest brother offered to pick us up, and even met us at the baggage claim, so I didn't have to drag the luggage any farther.

Being home has been nice, if nothing else because it's comforting and familiar. I was most excited about being able to play games on my nice computer, instead of the crappy lappy we brought. Sadly, sitting up at the keys for very long seems to put odd pressure on certain sutures, and has even caused a little extra bleeding, so I've been keeping the computer sessions short until I'm a little more secure in my healing progress.

The bruising is almost completely gone, and the swelling has gone down considerably. The sutures are healing nicely, but I'm still careful to baby them and apply Neosporin religiously. Most of the pain is going down slowly but steadily, and I'm taking about half the pain pills that I was when I first left the hospital. My breasts, on the other hand, seem to be getting a little more sore as time goes on and they realize what's been done to them. =P

For the past few days I've also been trying to get up and move around the house a little more, and my energy levels are much better than they were last week. Tomorrow, we're going to hang out with some friends and play DnD, which I'm excited about both because I've missed them, and because it's a comfortable atmosphere where I know I can relax.

Dilating is still strange, but getting less uncomfortable. Being unused to it at first made it tough to relax, and my muscles tensing up was causing a lot of the discomfort. It's also a little difficult getting the dilator under the pubic bone, since I wasn't blessed with the higher pelvis pubic arch that comes with teenage female puberty, but that's also getting easier as the tissues learn to accommodate.

For now, I have to dilate three times a day for 15 minutes at a time. After three months, I can go down to twice a day. After six months, once daily, and so on. I can picture myself getting really lazy about it in the future, but so far, I've managed to stay pretty regimented. Within the next few days I'm supposed to move up to the medium-sized dilator though, which is somewhat intimidating.

Dilators in three sizes: small, medium, and scary. Melissa actually had yet one larger size in the office, which thankfully wasn't provided to me.

Next week, I have a post-op checkup. As I mentioned a while back, my primary doctor wasn't sure if she would be comfortable checking out the healing, but I did manage to make an appointment with Dr. Luikenaar for Friday the 16th, and I'm sure she'll do just fine.

I've still had very few doubts or major concerns, which is especially unusual for me and my overly analytical mind. Really, I'm just happy to feel like my body looks normal. I wouldn't mind losing a few pounds, but I think once things heal, I may even be semi-comfortable in a swimsuit for the first time in my life, which is incredibly exciting. Most of all, I'm grateful to finally look in the mirror and be able to say with confidence that I see me looking back. =)

6 Days Post-Op - Back at the Hotel

2012-02-28T02:57:00.000-07:00

"I'm taking her home with me,
All dressed in white;
She's got everything I need,
Some pills in a little cup."

-- A Perfect Circle, The Nurse Who Loved Me

I've been out of the hospital for three days now (since Saturday)! =D

On Friday, I was able to get up and walk around a bit. I managed to make it to the door to my hospital room and back (with help of course). Moving around stretched sutures and hurt a bit, but mostly it was just exhausting. Those few steps made me feel as though I'd run a mile. Later I tried again and made it out the door and down the hall a bit before returning. Baby steps!

Erin loaned me a small mirror, and I got a better look at the new parts. The brusing is surprisingly minor. I've seen pictures of people covered in bruises from thigh to thigh, but in my case I've just got some light patchy bruises on each thigh, and some bruising and swelling on my left outer labia.

Of course, the sutures look a bit ugly at the moment, but even the nurses were complimenting them, saying that they would heal very nicely and with very little scarring. Dr. Bowers was even asking me to send her pictures once everything's healed, so she can use my results as an example on her website. =D

After a couple of days, the drain slowed down considerably, but also started to sting pretty badly. Thankfully, on Saturday morning Dr. Bowers came in to remove it. She snipped the stitch holding it in place and slid it out. I was surprised at how long it was; apparently it had been curved up and around through both outer labia.

There were one or two nurses that we really disliked, but most of them were great. Our definite favorite was a woman named Pat. She was sweet, thorough, and genuinely invested in my well-being, but never sugar-coated things, and also took the time to make sure Erin was fed and comfortable, which helped Erin to help take care of me. We made sure to give her a hug before we left. =)

I had thought that they would take the catheter and/or packing out before I left the hospital, but it turns out that both have to stay in until my followup appointment on Tuesday. >_<

We checked out of the hospital and headed back to the hotel Saturday afternoon. Erin helped me get dressed and gathered, then went to get the car while and one of the nurses loaded me in to a wheelchair.

The nurse wheeled me down to the front door, then helped me carefully transfer to the car, and on to the donut-shaped pillow we brought. The car ride was painful, but short, and Erin was careful to avoid jerks and bumps wherever she could. Our hotel has a parking lot in the basement, with spaces very close the elevator. The room is also pretty close to the elevator, only a few doors away, so the walk to the room was manageable.

Since we got back I've basically just been lying in bed, working through the Netflix instant queue with Erin (Memento, The Producers, Howl's Moving Castle), and playing PS3, DS, and Android games (PixelJunk Shooter, God of War II, Dungeon Siege III, New Super Mario Bros., Advance Wars: Days of Ruin, Words With Friends, Hanging With Friends, yesI'magameaddictshhhh!), while Erin reads manga online. Honestly it's been a lot like being at home, except that my lappy sucks too much to play DotA 2 or SW:ToR. Thank goodness for a room with free and decent internet access. =D

Overall it's pretty easy to stay happy and entertained, though we do both get a little stir-crazy. Erin makes almost-daily trips to Safeway or CVS pharmacy to pick up food and sundry useful supplies. I honestly don't know how I'd manage without her. She's been so amazing, doling out my meds, helping me get up and down, getting/making food, keeping me company. She's been like a super-nurse, except her shift never ends, which I feel bad about. She's too sweet for her own good; sometimes I can tell she's getting a little frazzled, and I have to remind her to slow down and take care of herself for a little while.

In the hospital, the nurses were keeping me clean-ish with washcloths, but after a couple of days at the hotel I was feeling pretty disgusting and decided to try a shower. Erin managed to wash my hair, while I spent most of my energy trying to balance and just generally rinse off. Unfortunately I pushed myself a little too hard, and ended up feeling a pretty faint and dizzy by the end. Still, after sitting down and recovering for a few minutes, it felt amazing to finally be clean again.

I'm still taking percocets for pain, which seem to be helping more and more as the pain from the stitches decreases. I still get random stinging from sutures, and strange zaps as nerves slowly re-establish themselves, but I swear that most of the pain at this point is from the catheter and packing. The packing causes lots of pressure, which is constant, but gets much worse if I try to sit up for any period of time.

The catheter doesn't help in the pressure department, and though I've gotten a little more used to the always-have-to-pee feeling, I don't think my body has. If I'm off the percocets for too long, everything gets generally tense and very uncomfortable in that area. The tubing has also gotten kinked once or twice, before I figured out how best to situate it, and each time it has taken a bit to even figure out what was causing the extra pain.

My breasts have gotten slightly softer as the skin stretches, but they still have a long way to go. The stitches (in the creases underneath) get itchy from time to time, which is a good sign, and other than some minor aching here and there, they've been relatively pain-free.

Later today, we'll be going back to Dr. Bowers' office for the follow-up, and removal of the packing and catheter. I seriously can't wait, as I think these will ease my discomfort by a lot, but I'm also pretty nervous, because it means the start of dilating.

For a while, my body will see the new configuration as semi-foreign (like a piercing), and try to close things up. Among my bag of clothes from the hospital, we discovered my very own set of dilators (smooth medical-grade dildos is honestly the best descriptor =P), which I'll have to use routinely for a few months to keep things from collapsing. I suppose it can't be much worse than this damn packing, though. >_<

2 Days Post-Op - The Waiting Game

2012-02-24T10:07:00.006-07:00

"My vagina has two sets of lips,
But I don't get monthly blood drips;
My vagina, hardly even used."
-- NOFX, My Vagina

We got to the hospital at 10:00am on Wednesday morning and checked in with the surgery center's admissions desk. After a few minutes, they called us to a little desk to have me sign a bunch of consent and release forms.

Another few minutes went by, and a nurse called us back in to the back rooms. She had me strip down and helped me change in to a hospital gown and silly paper booties. All my clothes went in to a plastic bag, and everything else, my wedding ring, tongue ring, cellphone, and wallet, I gave to Erin.

The nurse directed us to a small room with a recliner for me, where she put an inflatable warming blanket over me and attached a couple of wristbands for identification. She worked away at the computer, and gave me a few more forms to initial and sign saying that I knew who my doctors were and what I was getting. She also wrapped compression sleeves around my lower legs, which rhythmically contract to keep the blood flowing.

She then left, and we continued waiting. One-by-one over the next half hour or so, various people from the surgical team dropped by.

The anesthesiologist was the first to introduce himself. He was a nice, slightly quirky, wiry-looking guy who spoke quickly and wore a black bandana on his head. After he left, Dr. Bowers dropped by to say "hi", and to assure us that everything was going to go great. At this point we were both pretty excited, but Erin was also obviously nervous. She teared up a couple of times, but tried to hold back and smile to keep me from worrying too much. =3

Lastly, a sweet and reassuring younger woman who said she'd be helping with the surgery came in and asked me to come with her to the operating room. Erin and I gave each other a hug and a kiss, then parted ways. I was then led down a hallway in to the OR, where I lay on a flat table under some giant movable light structures, and people bustled around me. There was a slight depression in the table's surface, and they had me adjust until my butt was right at the edge of it.

They removed my gowns, so that I had just one loosely draped over me, and put oxygen tubes in my nose. My arms were propped straight out to the sides, and the anesthesiologist started telling dorky jokes while he inserted the IV in to my left forearm. The last thing I remember was chatting with the anesthesiologist and assistant woman about it being a little awkward that everyone in the room was there for me, and then I was out.

I woke up in the recovery room around 4:30, and a nurse immediately noticed me and offered me some bits of ice, which I happily chewed. Within half an hour or so, I was fairly lucid, and they wheeled me to my room. Erin was there waiting for me, grinning from ear to ear, and she gave me a kiss.

Erin was planning to go back to the hotel to sleep, but I have the hospital room to myself, so they offered to wheel another bed in for her and she has stayed with me both nights so far. It's been so comforting to know that she's only a few feet away if I need her. On Thursday morning she went back to the hotel to shower and grab a few things, but otherwise she's been hanging out here, playing video games, and even eating hospital food with me.

The nurses are, for the most part, awesome, though there was one incident where a CNA was trying to adjust my tray and accidentally slammed it downward on to my crotch. I saw stars for a second and nearly swore, but it was an honest accident, and I did my best to keep calm while she apologized repeatedly.

My crotch has been completely bandaged over, with packing inside as well. I have a JP Drain coming out my left side which they have to empty red goo out of a few times a day, and a catheter tube going to my right. The catheter feels horrible, like I always have to pee, but I'm sort of getting used to it by now.

My breasts feel tight and tender, but don't hurt much. I really like the size, and I think I'll be really happy with them once the skin stretches and they settle. For now, they're just sort of stuck in place.

The pain in my groin area was fairly bad on the first night. The nurses gave me morphine through the IV, which helped a lot, and percocets by mouth, which didn't seem to help at all. For a while, there were rhythmic zaps of pain centralized in one spot, but I couldn't figure out what part it was originating from, because as far as my brain is concerned, the old nerve map of my genitalia is still valid, and nothing has changed. After a while it dawned on me that the zaps were almost definitely coming from my clitoris, which was exciting! Eventually I was able to get some sleep, and the pain was much better in the morning.

After spending Wednesday evening laying down, I decided to sit up and play around on the lappy on Thursday. That afternoon, Dr. Bowers stopped by. She told me that I looked like I was recovering well, and that she was really proud and happy with the way my surgery turned out. She also said that she's sure I'll like it. I hope she's right! =D

As the evening wore on, the pain from the sutures nearly went away, but it was replaced by a new aching throughout my entire lower abdomen. At first, I thought it was just from sitting in the same position for so long, so I carefully tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable spot. After a couple of hours of this, the pain just continued to get worse, so I told my nurse, who pointed out that it was probably gas build-up. She gave me some gas-ex, but said it would take hours to take effect. Since I was nearly in tears, and it was getting late anyway, she gave me some more morphine and an ambien to knock me out. This morning, I still feel a little bloated and sore, but much much better.

At 7am today, a new nurse came in to remove my dressings! She had me lay flat, and she slowly peeled the bandages off of my vagina (that still feels weird to say). I only got a short glimpse before she replaced the bandages with a maxi-pad, but so far it looks great! My labia are very swollen but good, and the clitoral hooding is perfect. Even though I knew logically that everything was there, it's nice and extremely exciting to be able to finally see it and know that it's real.

I should be able to get up and walk around a little today, which I can't wait for. I'm sick of being stuck to this bed. If all continues to go well, I should be checking out of the hospital tomorrow morning! W00t! =)

T Minus 1 Day - Surgery Eve!

2012-02-22T00:20:00.006-07:00

"Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
I love ya, tomorrow!
You're always a day away."
-- Annie (Annie), Tomorrow

Hooh! It's been a full week, as expected, which has kept my mind from wandering too much. Every once in a while a wave of realization will hit me, and I'll reel for a couple of seconds. It's finally here!

The flight from SLC to LAX was fine. After going through the body scanner, a TSA agent did give me a "thorough patdown", but she was very amiable and professional. The flight was short, but I'm already considering looking in to an upgrade for the trip back, just for slightly more comfortable seats.

Disneyland was a lot of fun, though the lines were longer than expected, and rides kept going down right when we wanted to go on them. Erin and I take a trip down there every couple of years, because it's an easy/fun road trip and we get to stop in Vegas, but I've never seen the rides go down that much.

We'd only planned to hang out with Erin's brother Chris while there, but we found out a couple of weeks ago that Erin's oldest brother, Dave, who lives in SLC, was coincidentally also going to the LA area at the same time as we were. He and his girlfriend ended up joining us at Disney, which was brilliant. Funnily, both of Erin's brothers are averse to roller coasters, so us three girls ended up going on Space Mountain without them.

The visit with the grandfolk on Sunday was good. Since we were exhausted from Disney, it was nice to just sit around chatting over dinner, and they're such good people.

I knew we'd forget to bring something from home. The something ended up being hairspray, a mouse for the laptop, and a car charger for our phones. The charger was the most problematic, since we use our phones for GPS directions. Thankfully we found a Best Buy (and grabbed a couple more video games to boot) before driving up to San Mateo.

We met with Dr. Bowers yesterday, and she talked us through the expected outcome and possible (but unlikely) complications. I thought I'd have a million questions, but I just kept looking at Erin, and neither of us could think of anything. I spent so much time over the last couple of years researching the surgery in general and Dr. Bowers in specific, I think all I really needed was to hear her reassurances. And she was amazingly reassuring.

She's obviously been at this a long time, and being trans herself, she has a unique and very comforting perspective. She said everything looked fine and that there shouldn't be any problems.

After that, we went and picked up my prescriptions (laxative, bowel prep, pain relievers, antibiotics, and antibacterial cream) and some supplies, i.e. neosporin, baby wipes, and clear liquids for me to subsist on today. We'd thought about doing something touristy for the remainder of yesterday. Instead, we relaxed in the hotel for a while, then went out to a steak joint for my last meal. It was a nice recharge that I think we both needed.

We saw Dr. Beck this morning, and he was a little less personable than Marci, but still very nice. After he took some pictures and measurements of my chest, he had us work with his assistant Jasmine on sizing and such, and she was wonderful. She knew just what to say to boost my confidence and make me feel good about what I'm doing.

Next, we had to drop by the hospital for some quick blood work. Then back to the hotel to start in on the bowel prep to clean me out. The solution came in a jug, which I filled with water to mix it. I was then supposed to drink a glass every ten minutes until gone.

The first five or six glasses went down fine, but after that, the stuff started to make me nauseous. I know it was partly psychosomatic, so I did my best to power through it, but I couldn't seem to down a full glass without feeling like I was going to throw up. It didn't help that the jug was four freaking liters, meaning about 16 small glasses over the course of several hours to get through it. Ugh.

I also wasn't allowed to eat anything today, just liquids. Remarkably, I haven't been that hungry. A light snack probably would've helped settle my stomach when drinking the bowel prep, but I made do with ginger ale or apple juice chasers.

At this point, I'm just waiting for bed time so we can wake up and head in to the hospital. We're supposed to be there at 10:00am, but the actual surgery doesn't start until around 11:30. It should last around 4-5 hours, with both docs working at the same time. I'll be in the hospital for about three days, then back to the hotel for another week before heading home.

I half-expected to have a lot of doubts and moods swings to work through over the last week, which would've been normal, but I've had surprisingly little apprehension. I'm anxious and antsy, but I think I made up my mind and overcame my qualms a long time ago.

By now I'm just excited that the wait is finally over. Of course, this is also just another beginning, but in my head, it's the beginning of the rest of my life, and I know that I'm ready for it.

T Minus 5 Days - Heading Out Californee Way

2012-02-17T18:08:00.002-07:00

"Airplane, airplane,
Don't you go down today;
Take me away, off to a better place,
You know just where I'd like to go;
Please get me there on time,
Don't delay me from losing my mind."

-- Plain White T's, Airplane

I mentioned in my last post that I've had way too much to do. Well, other than at work, most of that ran out a couple of weeks ago. Since then time has been dragging, and I've had way too much time to sit around and think, and make myself anxious. I couldn't wait for today to come, just so that it could be over with.

I've had various pre-admission phone appointments over the last week with Dr. Bowers' staff, Dr. Beck's staff, and the hospital staff. We've booked flights, hotels, a rental car, etc. I think we're ready, but I know I'll forget something. Hopefully it's something stupid and small, like toothpaste. ;)

I stopped most of my hormones a little over a week ago. I'm still on a little bit of estrogen, but temporarily off progesterone, and thankfully I'll never have to take spiro (testosterone-blockers) again. Yay!

After a few days off hormones, I started having mild headaches that won't go away. Normally, the only time I get headaches is when I'm about to get sick, so it's been really scaring me. Getting sick right before surgery would not be good. So far, the headaches are the extent of the physical discomfort, though.

A few days ago the mood swings hit. It really seems unfair that I had to stop hormones during one of the most emotional times of my life. In addition to minor bouts of depression and anxiety, I've been feeling really self-centered. I'm making an effort to reach out to friends to help them, but at some point I also have to accept that it's ok to be a little self-involved right now, even though that's tough for me to do.

The great support I've gotten from friends and family has helped a lot. (THANK YOU!!!) I'm never down for too long before a new heartfelt text or Facebook message rolls in to remind us how loved we are. I also got an insanely sweet 'Good Luck' card from a bunch of friends that made me tear up a couple of times while playing Dungeons and Dragons. I am so freaking lucky.

My last day in the office was on Wednesday. It's strange thinking that I won't work again for around six weeks. My boss was super cool about it, though, and helped me wrap everything up and train people to cover for me. We had a last meeting to make sure everything was settled, and she kept telling me to forget about work for a while. =)

The only real uncertainty remaining is my time off work being qualified as medical leave. I'm still pretty sure it will go through, but they don't give the official word until I'm actually hospitalized, which seems idiotic.

Tonight, we're stopping by my sister's to receive a mystery present, then to Erin's mom's, and finally to the airport to fly to LA. Honestly, I'm a little bit terrified of the TSA right now. I've heard way too many horror stories of people who got pulled aside, outed, or berated because their bodies didn't look like "normal" male or female bodies under the scanners. I can deal with answering questions and outing myself. But I can be really defensive and ornery if I feel I'm being pushed farther than I should be, and the TSA are the last people I want to be ornery with. >_<

Tomorrow, we'll be in Disneyland with Erin's awesome brother who lives in that area. In two days, we'll be hanging out with Erin's grandparents and other family from around there before driving up to the San Francisco area. The last time I saw her grandparents, I'd just started transitioning, but didn't tell them. Later I found out that Erin's mom told them, and that they were amazing about it, so I'm excited to let them see the real me.

In three days, we'll be meeting with Dr. Bowers, then hanging out in San Francisco. In four, we'll meet with Dr. Beck, and I'll spend the day stuck in the hotel drinking a bowel prep, and not eating anything. And in five days, I'll be on the operating table!

It's so surreal to think that in less than a week, my body will be significantly changed forever. It's nerve-wracking, but it's exciting! At the same time, I know that the surgery itself is just the beginning, since I'll spend the next few weeks/months healing. Still, I'm huge on life experiences, I wouldn't trade this ride for anything.

T Minus 29 Days - Insurance and the Many Machinations

2012-01-24T23:51:00.001-07:00

"We didn't choose to be bureaucrats,
No that's what our mighty Ja made us;
We'd treat people like swine and make them stand in line,
Even if nobody paid us!"

-- Hermes Conrad (Futurama), The Bureaucrat Song

Only 29 days remaining! I've had way too much to do to prepare, but I suppose I should be grateful, because it's made the time go by quickly. On the electrolysis timeline, I only have one session left. Things in general are also coming together really well!

The craziness kicked off in earnest when Robin with Dr. Bowers' office sent me a surgery info packet a few weeks ago, which included a checklist of various forms and such to send to them, recommendations for hotels, a list of important dates, etc.

Among the things to send, they requested HIV test results. Normally these tests can cost around $150, but the Utah Pride Center does free testing on certain days, so Erin came with me and we both got tested. Of course, both our results were negative, but it's always nice to know, and it's very cool that we have such great local programs.

I also had to send off my letters of recommendation, an information release form, medical history, an anesthesia evaluation form, my name change court order, a picture of myself, and a one-page self bio. No, I'm not making that last bit up. =P

At the start of the year, I switched to a new insurance plan with Anthem Blue Cross that covers trans surgery. I was still nervous about my chances for approval, and trying really hard not to get my hopes up, just in case. As soon as Robin had all my info, she contacted the insurance to get the pre-authorization started. It was only a few days later (last Friday) that I heard back from both the insurance rep and Robin, telling me that I'd been approved! SO EXCITING!

This is such a huge weight off my shoulders. I've said many times how terrible I felt having this huge cost looming over Erin and me (even knowing it'd be worth it). My out-of-network deductible was $3,000, which is a substantial discount from the $22,500 I'd planned on paying. After surgery, we're hoping to take a vacation or two, then start looking for houses. =D

I'm a little sad that we won't be able to thank Robin in person, since she works in Trinidad, CO. I know it's her job, but Robin has been amazing to work with, and I can't imagine coordinating all of this paperwork without her help. I can definitely see why Dr. Bowers kept her on in Colorado, even after moving her practice to San Mateo.

In addition, I've been researching plastic surgeons for the possible breast augmentation I mentioned in my last post. Oddly enough, Salt Lake City has a thriving plastic surgery industry, with a lot of good surgeons with good rates. With the power of the internet, I found a nearby surgeon who gets great reviews, and decided to schedule a consultation. Of course, one of the first things I asked the girl on the phone was if the doc had any experience with trans clients. I was surprised to hear that he very much prefers to not work with trans people, and also that the rep had no idea why. "It's just his policy." Although I wouldn't want to work with someone that doesn't want to work with "my people", it was still incredibly disappointing. =/

After that, I decided to call one Dr. Beck in California. Not only does he have a lot of experience with trans clients and enjoy working with us, he often works with Dr. Bowers, to perform aesthetic surgeries during the same session as the SRS. I had a phone consultation with him a couple of weeks ago, and I really liked his demeanor and his recommendations. At first I was wary of the prospect of healing from both SRS and a BA at the same time, but the idea of having it all done with and not having to be put under twice is quite appealing. After insurance came through, I went ahead and scheduled the BA with him.

On another front, Erin and I have both put in for medical leave from our respective work places. Mine is still in the works, though I'm pretty sure it will be approved. Erin's, well... a couple of days after she turned in all the paperwork, they said that her request was denied because "they don't recognize domestic partnerships."

When Erin explained that we're actually married, they told her that even if we're married in another state, it wouldn't count since same-sex marriages aren't recognized in Utah. *facepalm* She then, of course, had to divulge my history and explain it in detail before they decided to look at it again. Thankfully, in the end, they did approve it. It's just frustrating that we'll always be forced to come out in order to validate our marriage, and that they wanted to discriminate in the first place.

Originally, we'd planned to drive to Cali in order to save money, but between Erin not liking to drive, the possibility of hitting snowstorms on the way back, and me being unsure how I'll feel sitting in a car for that long, we decided it's smarter to take a plane. We booked our flights a couple of days ago, and we'll be leaving February 17th and coming back March 3rd!

I'm still working on hotels. We're trying to save money wherever possible, but I also think it would be a good idea to stay somewhere with a kitchen, since we'll be there for a while. Decisions, decisions.

And last but not least, I still need to find a local doc who can give me a post-op checkup a few weeks after the surgery, to monitor on healing and such. My primary care physician said she didn't feel like she'd be good for it, and I feel stupid even broaching the subject with other offices without being referred. However, there is a nearby Dr. Luikenaar who recently announced that she's looking to help trans clients, and whose specialty is gynecology. Perhaps it's meant to be? I'll give her a call soon. =)

Overdue Update, on Electrolysis, Surgery, Insurance, and Boobs

2011-11-04T01:10:00.003-06:00

"The boob fairy never came for me
No the boob fairy never came for me
Look, I wasn't wanting melons, just a cute curvaceous "B"
But the boob fairy never came for me."

-- Deirdre Flint, The Boob Fairy

I know this is where I'm supposed to make some excuse about why I haven't been updating for the last three months, but I've got nothing. Well, I've got a few things, but they're empty excuses that don't really matter in the long run. It's probably best if we all just move on and pretend that nothing happened. =P

Electrolysis continues. I've now logged just over 8 hours on my face, and 15 down below (and spent about $1,200 on it). I saw my physician for a checkup back in August and finally asked for lidocane/prilocane numbing cream, which she was happy to prescribe. In general, the numbing helps a ton, especially on my upper lip, but there are certain areas I'm not so sure about.

The cream only numbs the top layers of skin, and in a few spots this has the strange effect of removing most of the pain, but not the itching. With the top layers numb, scratching does absolutely nothing, and I end up wanting to crawl out of my skin by the time she's done. At least without the cream, the pain from each successive zap helps relieve some of the itching from the previous stabs.

It helps my mental well-being to think about the time until surgery in terms of how many electrolysis sessions I'll have in the interim. Assuming that I continue with my current schedule of two weeks between sessions, and that I stop around four weeks in advance to allow the skin to fully heal, I only have six more sessions before surgery! Contrasted with the 17 sessions I've already endured, I think I just might make it with my sanity intact.

Yep. Surgery is less than four months away (if I haven't established, I'm definitely waiting for the official date of February 22nd), and once again it's all I can think about. Honestly, damn this wait!

For the longest time I racked my brains over whether or not I even wanted surgery, then whether or not I was ready, whether we could save the money, what surgeon to go to. It seems unfair that the seemingly interminable year-long wait could only happen after these decisions were made. At this point, I check the countdown calendar on the right side of my blog constantly. I'm ready to move on now... please? =P

Still, the year since scheduling is more than two-thirds over. I just hope the days fly by faster as the date approaches, and not slower.

Saving is going well, and I'm pretty sure we have the funds secured, but I've been stressing over money a lot lately. All I can think about is what else we could be spending $20k on, like truly starting our married life together. I've recently been having dreams that insurance pays for it, and suddenly we have enough to put a down payment on a house, buy furniture, take a vacation.

Erin is amazing for taking this all in stride. I also appreciate all my friends for putting up with me repeatedly doling out the same tired excuse: "I want to, but I can't. I'm saving for surgery." If you're sick of hearing it, believe me when I say that I'm sick of saying it, too. I think the fact that I've never had to pretend to be broke for this long is affecting me, though. I'm definitely a child of the consumer age, and I miss spending money on stuff.

On that note, I'm trying really hard not to count any chickens just yet, but it's looking like I probably will be able to get insurance through work that will cover my reassignment surgery. It's insanely exciting, and hopefully I'll have more details soon. Fingers and toes crossed!

Speaking of doctors and insurance, I also saw my endocrinologist not very long ago for a yearly renewal, and to discuss my pre- and post-surgery hormone regimens. Female hormone replacement pills are known for increasing the risk of thromboembolism (traveling blood clots), so most surgeons, including mine, require patients to reduce or stop taking hormones a few weeks before surgery. My endo suggested that I wean myself off slowly, to reduce the inevitable hot flashes and moodiness. Though I'll resume estrogen and progesterone after surgery (and for the rest of my life), I'm definitely looking forward to never needing to take testosterone-blockers again. =D

She also gave me the regular blood work, to check my hormone levels, but apparently she forgot my insurance situation and coded it under "psycho-sexual disorders". My insurance will have none of that, and denied the claim, so I recently got a bill for $400 worth of blood tests. =(

I've talked to the hospital and asked them to change the coding and try again, but I'm nervous that the damage has already been done. A friend of mine recently tried to claim her SRS through the same insurance (SelectHealth), and after denying her, they also decided to start denying anything and everything else that they could claim was related, whether it actually was or not. Hopefully the re-code on my blood work will pass through, and that's the last I'll hear of it, especially since I'm planning to switch insurance ASAP.

Last, but not least, I've been doing a lot of ruminating about possibly getting a breast augmentation. It's something that's been in my head for a long time, but something that, for a few reasons, I haven't really talked about. It's odd to me that I find it fairly easy to disclose all sorts of information about my transition and body, but not so easy to talk about this one thing.

To be honest, I have some self-esteem issues around my body. I still pad my bra, and though I know that's not that strange, I guess I just want to feel like I can have more confidence in my image, without having to think about it daily.

Even though putting it that way makes perfect sense to me, I still feel guilt around the subject. I suppose I view SRS as simply necessary, but implants have been socially drilled in to my brain as being purely superficial. Well, sure, they are superficial, but we live in a superficial world, and if that's what it takes to make me feel comfortable in my own skin, then I should probably stop feeling guilty and do it.

Letters to a Surgeon

2011-07-25T20:12:00.002-06:00

Won't you please,
Please tell me what we've learned?
I know it sounds absurd;
But please tell me who I am.

-- Supertramp, The Logical Song

I can has two letters of recommendation for surgery! =D

As I wrote before, I was having a tough time finding someone for my second letter, as required by the WPATH Standards of Care (and more importantly, as required by my surgeon). I'd collected a couple of suggestions from trans friends and called a few psychologists, with no luck. Among those I'd called was one prospect, a Dr Beckstead, who was out of town. I waited until he got back in near the end of June to leave a message, which he promptly returned a few hours later. He said that he had experience working with trans clients and writing these letters, and that he'd be glad to meet with me. W00t!

I had an appointment with him on July 7th, and he was awesome! He was very courteous, kind, patient, and a great listener. For some reason, I'd expected a battery of dry evaluation tests, with ridiculous questions questions like, "How often are you angry?"

Instead, we sat and chatted casually for an hour about my transition, the ups and downs I've experienced, my emotional state during various stages in my life, etc. The hour flew by, and by the end of it, I'd rambled off my entire life as it relates to my gender. He told me he'd be happy to write a letter for me, and agreed to have it ready the following week. I picked it up on the 14th, and... wow.

I expected half page or so. This sucker is four pages long, and recounts nearly every detail I shared with him, but in a more cohesive, less rambly way. It's really interesting to see a summation of so much information about myself. Even though much of it is a direct interpretation of what I'd told him, being reworded and peppered with his observations makes it feel slightly surreal, like hearing a recording of your voice for the first time and wondering, "Is that really what I sound like to other people?" Even though none of the information is a secret, the letter feels very intimate, and makes me realize just how much I expose my naked thoughts and feelings to the world. I'll cherish it always. =)

My regular therapist told me long ago that she'd be happy to write a letter if/when I decide to have surgery, so I also set up a recent appointment with her to go over the details. I hadn't seen her for the better part of a year, but most everything I had to share was good news, so the session had the odd feeling of catching up with an old friend, then paying her for it. =P

She offered to mail her letter, and it arrived on Saturday. Her letter is much more what I expected, basically just an overview of our therapy and her recommendation:

Dear Dr. Bowers,

This letter is in regard to Mrs. Vivienne Melody Blue. Vivienne is a male to female transsexual woman who I have been treating for Gender Identity Disorder (GID) since March of 2009. Mrs. Blue has been on hormone replacement therapy since July of 2009; she has undergone a legal change of name and gender marker and has been living full time as female since April 2010.

I have spent many clinical hours with Mrs. Blue addressing issues pertinent to her gender identity and transition. I am confident that she is psychologically and socially prepared to complete a surgical transition to female. Mrs. Blue has considered all aspects of gender reassignment surgery and will continue to live a productive and emotionally healthy life as a woman. Therefore, it is my recommendation that she be considered for further medical or surgical procedures as she wishes.

For the sake of completeness, I've also included some of Dr. Beckstead's letter below. I've pared it down to around 1/2 the original length, but it's still pretty long, I wouldn't blame anyone for thinking it's TL;DR and skipping it. ;)

Dear Dr. Bowers,

This letter is to document my assessment of Vivienne Blue (birthday, 04/08/82) and my recommendation that she is eligible and ready for male-to-female sex reassignment surgery (SRS). My evaluation is based on 1 individual evaluation on July 7, 2011. After this meeting, I was confident in making this recommendation. Vivienne has also met with another local therapist, who is highly competent in gender-identity issues, starting in March 2009 to the present. Regarding Vivienne, she is 29 years old, employed, and married, with no children. My overall impression of Vivienne is that she is intelligent, thoughtful, warm, sensitive, easy-to-get-along with, independent, practical, and confident about her choice of SRS.

History of Gender Dysphoria & Sexuality
[Vivienne] describes herself as an awkward, emotional child that never felt right being who she was... She was never into sports but also never interested in “girlie toys” but building toys. She would always play female characters in video games, not only preferring the identity but also being attracted to the character’s characteristics. She sees herself as always having feminine mannerisms and that people considered her to be homosexual or the “gayest straight boy,” which caused her to question and explore if she were gay. She relates that this focus on sexuality clouded her exploration and acceptance of being transgender.

She describes always feeling out of place in men’s locker rooms and bathrooms and never using the urinal. She hated gym class because she would be forced to change in front of people and would often leave her shirt on while swimming, always feeling awkward in her body but never understanding why.

She recalls that a pivotal time for self-acceptance and identity was when she worked in the Philippines for six weeks in 2008. Transgender issues were more prevalent, obvious, and accepted. This compelled her to do research for a couple of months on transgender issues, which helped her “put the pieces together” and realize that transitioning was worth the risks of social rejection. This process led to her talking with her then girlfriend, which Vivienne describes as emotional because her girlfriend was afraid of losing her. However, once her girlfriend realized the possibilities of staying together (her girlfriend is bisexual) and that Vivienne would be happier, both were okay with the decision and she has been supportive ever since. They married in September 2010.

Vivienne describes having slight “bi-tendencies,” open to the idea that she could be with a man if she met one with whom she fell in love; erotically and emotionally, however, she states that she has always preferred women and does consider herself a lesbian. She relates never being sexually aroused or interested in female clothing or going through a cross-dressing phase of buying and purging clothing. She describes herself as “not that girlie of a girl,” and typically wears jeans and a t-shirt. She has never been interested in wearing feminine-typical clothing because she believes women can wear what they want and still be a woman. She does relate how thinking of her body as female, especially being able to have sex and interact the way she wants as female, is arousing. In her words, “It’s never about the clothing but about the expression of myself through my body that is important.”

Overall, she describes feeling uncomfortable about her body, although less now because she appears female, but she feels “squeamish, weird, awkward” when she does think about her current genitalia and knows that she would be happier and excited with “the correct body” and wants “everything to match.” She is considering breast augmentation but wants to give hormones more time to have an effect. She is also determined to eat better and exercise more.

She states that making the decision for SRS has been difficult, mainly because of finances and her concerns about its effect on her wife and their relationship. She reports exploring and evaluating the risks of surgery, especially with concerns about having a good sex life and sexual sensation, but she states that she sees herself having more fun and pleasure with the correct body.

Social Support, and Current Life Stresses
She describes her relationship with her wife as equal, where both can discuss and resolve issues, and her transition has strengthened their relationship. They can lean on each other for support. Vivienne also states that she has not lost a single friend or family member’s support.

Current stresses for Vivienne include saving money for surgery and a house and managing any guilt about putting her wife under this pressure. Vivienne states that she also worries about body issues and what people think of her (e.g., has she offended someone).

Mental Health History and Status
Vivienne reports that she has suffered with anxiety and depression since childhood. Vivienne sees herself as independent and able to “deal with it” on her own. Vivienne describes having strong emotions but also strong logic that help her maintain balance.

She describes her anxiety as worrying too much about what people think and feel, trying to please them, and then blowing things out of proportion. Her depression was strongest when she first came out and feared its impact on others, which involved breakdowns of wondering if she was doing the right thing. Vivienne states that since her transition, her depression has gradually disappeared as she expresses who she is more: “Not needing to pretend has helped a lot.”

Overall, she states that her sense of independence and responsibility can become to extreme and turn in to anxiety. Vivienne considers that she will always be anxious but has learned to manage it better. Ways that help her to cope currently include expressing more with people who care, processing issues with her wife, and using reality as a check-and-balance.

Summary
Vivienne demonstrates the capacity to understand anticipated physical, emotional, and social changes and drawbacks associated with SRS. She is realistic about the changes that can and cannot occur through SRS. I consider her eligible and ready for SRS because she has consolidated her gender identity in the last 2.5 years during her use of hormonal therapy and full-time, real-life experience. She is highly supported by her spouse, family, friends, and job. Her mental health is stable and she does not suffer from any self-abuse, psychotic thought patterns, severe psychological or personality symptoms, or impaired decision-making skills.

These are letters #4 and #5 that I've had to acquire throughout my transition, the first to start hormones, and the second and third for changing my legal name and gender, which shows the kind of crazy hoops we trans folk have to jump through. =/

Anywho, everything's coming together nicely. Now I just wish I didn't have six more months to wait! ><

Freedom and Acceptance, a Rant

2011-07-04T17:06:00.002-06:00

"We are a family that should stand together as one,
Helping each other instead of just wasting time;
Now is the moment to reach out to someone, it's all up to you,
When everyone's sharing their hope, then love will win through;
Everybody's free to feel good,
Everybody's free to feel good."

-- Rozalla, Everybody's Free

Forgive my need to rant. I just found out that a trans acquaintance committed suicide over the weekend. =(

Sadly, this kind of thing is not uncommon. I hear about murders and suicides of trans people all the time, and it horrifies me. Though I didn't know them well, the fact that I knew them at all makes it hit home that much harder. I hope they're at peace.

I won't pretend to speak for this person, and there may have been any number of difficult things going on in their life which caused this. But I do know that all-too-often the fear and pain of rejection is what drives many of our community members to take their own lives. Nobody deserves to feel so out of place in this world that they're forced to leave it.

As a very open trans person, I often come out to new people during the first few times I meet them (so long as I feel relatively safe). I do this mainly because I'm a control freak. If I tell everyone, I'm not left to wonder "who knows?", and it's that much more difficult to use the information against me.

In these situations, I nearly always hear "Oh wow, I would have never guessed!" or "When I met you, I couldn't tell at all." These sayings are a well-known cliche among the trans community, and they're sometimes even considered rude or insulting. After all, what makes anyone feel that they should be able to tell? And is being able to tell somehow bad?

Personally, I usually take it as a compliment and try to smile, mainly because the people saying these things probably have good intentions, and probably aren't thinking about the deeper implications. But I also smile because these phrases are a guilty pleasure for me. Passing does provide privilege, and I am constantly aware of it. When I walk down the street, or in to a public establishment, or meet new people without strange looks or harassment. Much as I hate it, the words "I never knew" say to me, "Nobody knows. You are safe."

But passing as one gender or the other should not be an indicator of acceptance. Further, passing should not be a measure of personal safety and freedom.

Many people put off expressing their true selves for years, decades, or even their entire life, because they are afraid. Afraid of the reaction, of how they'll be treated. Before I even came out to Erin, I weighed the very heavy possibilities. Is it worth the risk of rejection to be myself? Is it worth losing any number of my friends and family, my job, or even Erin? Is it worth becoming one of the worst treated minorities in the country? We hope for the best, but we must plan for the worst. With being true to myself on one side of the scale, and possible social rejection in every form on the other, it was the most difficult decision I've ever made.

Acceptance changes lives, and I feel so extremely fortunate, grateful (and sometimes guilty), that I am as loved and accepted as I am by so many people. Scary as it has been, being appreciated as myself has kept me from thinking about suicide for a very long time. Whenever I feel strong enough, I try to use this acceptance as a platform to show others that we exist, and that we only want what everyone else wants.

Still, I am usually more open about being a lesbian than I am about being trans. Though both identities leave Erin and me prone to all sorts of discrimination, the public's treatment and understanding of trans people is still leagues behind. =/

I'm ever so thankful to live in a country that lets me choose what to do with my own body, and in a time when the world is slowly coming around. But freedom isn't just about the law, who gets to serve in the military, who gets to marry, and who is theoretically protected from discrimination (though these are very important steps along the path). It's also about the personal freedom to be ourselves; to express our thoughts, feelings, and personalities the way we'd like without fear of retribution; to love and be loved; to not be shunned or hated for simply living the only way we know how.

We've come a long way, and it's an exciting time to be alive, but we still have a long way to go. And none of us will ever be truly free until we all are.

Updates on Electrolysis, Surgery Prep, and the HRC CEI

2011-06-24T17:23:00.007-06:00

"Easy now, hush, love, hush;
Don't distress yourself, what's your rush?
Keep your thoughts nice and lush;
Wait.
Hush, love, hush, think it through;
Once it bubbles, then, what's to do?
Watch it close, let it brew;
Wait."

-- Wait, Helena Bonham Carter as Mrs. Lovett (Stephen Sondheim's Sweeney Todd)

The updates are slow(er than usual), because life is simple and relatively routine. That's probably a good thing.

Another two hours of electrolysis down. I've started doing sessions every two weeks, instead of one, to allow some time for the dormant hair to cycle back in. We're still doing about 30m at the beginning of each session to re-clear my face, and the rest of the time on the lower area. So far I've logged just under 5 hours on my face, and about 6 hours down below. My electrologist still leaves the room while I change in to the towel skirt thingy, but it seems like a silly ritual at this point. All other pretense is gone, and she doesn't even pretend to keep me covered any more. =P

My insurance won't cover a physician checkup until August, so I'm still managing the pain with just an Ibuprofen or two, but I'm considering calling to ask if my doc will prescribe some EMLA (numbing cream) over the phone. Some electrolysis sessions, I feel like I can take about anything, and I almost fall asleep while she's working. Other days, the pain consumes me, and I start getting visions of that one Fight Club scene ("I tried not to think of the words 'searing', and 'flesh'." "Stop it! This is your pain."). =P

Speaking of surgery prep, I've still got a lot to do in the next few months. Besides electrolysis, I need a psychological evaluation and two letters of recommendation from therapists (one being a PhD/MD), I need to get HIV testing, and I need to work with my endocrinologist regarding my pre- and post-op changes to my hormone regimen.

The most pressing of these is probably the letters. My primary therapist has agreed to write the first, but I'm having a hard time finding someone with a degree and familiarity with GID to write the second letter. I've been calling various people suggested by trans friends, with no luck so far. I'm sure I'll find someone to write it; it's just another thing I want to get out of the way. =)

As I mentioned before, my set SRS date is in February 2012, but I'm on a cancellation list for November. When I scheduled, there were a lot of personal advantages to having my surgery done in November, but those pros are slowly being overwhelmed by the possible advantages of waiting until the scheduled date in February.

The Human Rights Campaign (HRC), a major organization focused on the advocacy of BLTG rights (you've probably seen their bumper sticker logo: a blue square with a yellow "=" sign), releases a Corporate Equality Index each year. Basically, companies volunteer to send in a survey and information about their TGBL-related policies, and HRC scores each company on a 100-point scale. My employer has consistently gotten 100 points each year that they've participated (2009, 2010, and 2011).

As of 2012 however, HRC is changing the criteria by assigning 10 points for having trans-inclusive benefits-- health insurance that covers GID therapy, hormones, surgery, etc. Since my company seems pretty proud of their CEI rating, I've informed the powers-that-be that we are in danger of losing our 100, unless they add an inclusive insurance option by the end of this year. They definitely listened, but I probably won't find out what they've decided until around November. It's an off-chance, which is why we've been saving and planning for paying for it ourselves. But as the date approaches, waiting three more months for even a small possibility of saving twenty-thousand dollars is sounding more and more worthwhile.

We've also found out that Erin isn't eligible for family medical leave through her work until she's been there for a year, which will occur in January. She gets 40 hours of PTO a year, and at the moment, she has to save every minute of it to be able to go to Cali with me in November, which really isn't fair to her. Finally, waiting until February means the date is no longer uncertain, and gives us that much more time to settle the funds.

I was really looking forward to November, but logic dictates otherwise, and I think (hope) I can deal with waiting just a little longer.

By the way, if you want to see the CEI ratings, here are the 2011 results (ratings start on page 38):
http://www.hrc.org/documents/HRC-CEI-2011-Final.pdf

And a few previous years:
http://www.hrc.org/documents/HRC_Corporate_Equality_Index_2010.pdf
http://www.hrc.org/documents/HRC_Corporate_Equality_Index_2009.pdf
http://www.hrc.org/documents/HRC_Corporate_Equality_Index_2008.pdf

Does your company participate? What's their rating?

On Electrolysis and Saving Money

2011-05-01T23:42:00.002-06:00

"Money, get away;
Get a good job with more pay and you're okay;
Money, it's a gas;
Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash."
-- Pink Floyd, Money

I had my third hour-long electrolysis session yesterday, and started genital electrolysis in prep for surgery.

The bits of remaining facial hair are being cleared faster and faster. The first session took about an hour, the second took 40 minutes, and this latest only took half an hour. Each time, everything that's visible is cleared, but since hair grows in stages, the dormant hairs have to be cleared in successive sessions. Still, it should take less and less time from here. After zapping my face, we used the remaining half-hour to do a test patch down below.

I was terrified. The pain worried me a little, but mostly I was nervous about the idea of it. I don't hate my body, but I'm not exactly comfortable with it, either. Fortunately, my electrologist has experience with doing genital electrolysis for trans women, which does help ease my mind a bit.

She gave me a fluffy skirt wrap with snaps on it, asked me to wrap it around my waist, then left the room. I followed her instructions, and she came back a few minutes later. She worked like a masseuse, using a towel and the skirt to cover everything except the spot she was working on. For some reason it seems easier to handle a little square patch being exposed. My anxiety went away pretty quickly, but starting the surgery-prep electrolysis also caused the reality of surgery to settle in a bit. After all, this is the first concrete step I've taken in getting ready for SRS.

For the pain, I've been taking ibuprofen before each session. It only dampens the stinging of each zap a little, but I think it keeps the pain from building up as my skin gets more and more tender, and that helps a lot. I'll probably look in to getting some EMLA, which is a topical numbing cream, though I'd need a prescription from my physician to get it.

The pain from the genital electrolysis was... different, and difficult to explain, but the patch she did was not nearly as painful or annoying as when she does my upper lip. Being able to talk and distract myself while she works makes it much easier on me as well; I have a hard time sitting still and quiet for very long. Unfortunately, pain-wise, the worst is probably yet to come.

Hopefully, it will only take around 10-20 hours to clear what I need for surgery. Most surgeons (including mine) do a follicle scraping of the skin graft between removing it and replacing it, but they can't get everything, so most also recommend clearing certain areas of hair before surgery. Personally, I'd rather be safe than sorry, since it can't really be cleared after surgery.

I've also been thinking more and more about cost recently. My electrologist charges $50 per hour, which is pretty average. I looked up how long it takes most trans women to completely clear their face of hair with electrolysis alone, and most sources say it takes about 200-300 hours (though some people manage it in 100, and some have taken 700+ hours). If we go with the low average and say 200 hours, that's around $10,000 on electrolysis.

I spent about $1,300 on laser. Even if clearing the remaining facial hairs with electrolysis takes 10 hours, I will have saved $8,000. Not to mention the 180 hours I got to spend doing anything other than enduring the pain of electrolysis. Even if it had only cleared 1/6th of my facial hair, I would've come out ahead.

There is a lot of heated (no pun intended) debate over the effectiveness of laser, and I know that it's not for everyone, and that it doesn't work well on every skin/hair-type. But for those who are good candidates, and who can find a good price, I think it's worth trying. Of course, take my advice with a grain of salt, as I think you should with any advice about hair removal. =)

Speaking of saving money, my surgery fund is coming along!

I crashed my car a couple of months ago, and the insurance company called it totaled and gave me a check. Since then, I've been carpooling with Erin, and I've been considering saving that money for surgery, but I don't think that's really feasible. I've made Erin late for work a few times, and her work is not very lenient with tardiness, not to mention the fact that her schedule may change at any time. The tension over sharing a ride is only mild right now, but another year of this would probably be a different story.

We've been expecting a tax return of a couple-thousand dollars for a few months now. I filed (our first joint return! =D ) back in February, but after a few weeks of not hearing anything, I got worried and called the IRS. The rep I spoke to said that due to my name change, there was a delay, and that we'd get a notice by mail if we needed to provide more information. Since then, I've been nervous about being audited, or that they'd reject it because we're both legally female, but I just checked my bank account and there was a deposit from the US Treasury. W00t!

Including the tax return, but not the insurance money, we have about $18,000 saved, with between six and nine months (six is if there's a cancellation in November) to bring that up to $22,000. Thinking of other things that money could go to is a little depressing, but it will be worth it, and I'm excited to think that we may actually be able to save up the money in time. =D

My First Electrolysis Session

2011-04-13T23:44:00.002-06:00

"After all this has passed,
I still will remain;
After I've cried my last,
There'll be beauty from pain."
-- Superchick, Beauty From Pain

On Saturday I had my first electrolysis session.

Not. fun.

I haven't done much in the way of hair removal thus far, mostly because I've never been very hairy, even before hormones. The hair on my arms is pretty light, I've never had any back or chest hair to speak of, and I can deal with shaving my legs on the rare occasion that I actually wear a skirt.

I have, however, been getting laser hair removal on my face for almost two-and-a-half years now. It was actually the very first step I took towards physical transition, and I started just a couple of weeks after coming out to Erin. I wasn't sure at the time if I'd end up transitioning or not, but I knew that I hated my facial hair enough to get rid of it regardless.

I spent more on it than I probably should have, but on the plus side, they gave me a two year guarantee, so I've been going back once a month since then without paying anything more. Laser has eliminated 95% of the hair on my face, but there are a few hairs it just hasn't cleared. Still, I don't regret starting with laser versus electrolysis, because it has saved me a lot of time and pain, while costing about the same in the long run. Laser was also enough to get rid of the beard shadow on my face, which helped me dramatically in passing as female.

I've now started electrolysis for two main reasons, to clear up what's left on my face, and to start genital electrolysis in preparation for surgery. To put it simply, in sex reassignment surgery, some of the outside skin gets moved to become inside skin, and I need to get any hair removed from those areas before then.

Back when I started laser, I did a lot of research on the differences between laser and electrolysis. The only thing I learned with any certainty should probably be obvious: never trust an electrologist or laser tech to tell you which method works better. Both fields are chock-full of the kind of propaganda and superstition that's spread around so often, even the pros believe it. The truth, as far as I can tell, is that both methods work, and both have many pros and cons.

As far as effectiveness, laser is more like lobbing grenades, where electrolysis is more like sending in a sniper. The grenades are quicker and easier, but you have to be more careful not to damage the scenery, and there's a lot more luck involved. (Yes, I'm a dork, but it's a good metaphor. =P) Electrolysis also seems to be more dependent on the skill of the technician, for better or worse, while laser is more dependent on the area being treated, the skin type, and how dark the hair is.

Technically speaking, most laser hair removal devices don't actually involve any lasers, but use xenon flashbulbs, which flash high-intensity light at the skin. The skin itself lets most of the light pass through, but the hair's melanin (pigment) absorbs the light. The hair briefly heats up, effectively frying and killing the follicle around it. The hair is then left to eventually fall out on its own.

An average session of laser hair removal for me involves lying down, and being given goggles to protect my eyes from any errant flashes. They then spread clear goo on my face to keep the skin cool. Next, the tech dials in the intensity for my skin type and progress, and presses the small flasher part against my cheek. The machine beeps, I feel a sting, the tech moves the flasher gun about a centimeter, and then repeats.

The pain is semi-intense, but manageable, though I usually forget to breathe until they stop, and it always makes my eyes water when they go over my upper lip. Each monthly session only takes about 15 minutes. When they're finished, they clean the goo off my face, apply lotion, and give me an ice-pack to go. After each of the first few sessions, the room smelled like burning hair, and my face was red and tender for a couple of hours.

Electrolysis, on the other hand, uses a tiny needle-like electrode. The tech inserts the electrode in to each follicle, next to the hair, and zaps it at the root with an electrical current. They then grab the hair with tweezers and pluck it out.

At my first session on Saturday, my electrolysis tech began by joking about how every trans person she's talked to says that electrolysis is the worst part of transition, which got me nice and psyched. =P

She wore medical gloves, and glasses with little telescope-y magnifiers attached. She also dialed in the intensity, starting low to see what I could handle, then raising it a few times as she worked. Though I couldn't see exactly what she was doing, it seems like inserting the electrode stings, but is bearable, since it's being inserted where there's already an opening in the skin. The zapping and plucking hurts much worse. The pain was pretty manageable at first, but as she slowly moved across my face, my skin became more sore, and the stinging became more intense. The only things I can compare it to are laser hair removal, and getting a tattoo on my back, but it easily beats both.

My upper lip has the most hair left, mostly because the laser techs were afraid to zap too close to my lips. While the electrologist progressed across my upper lip, my eyes were watering like crazy; If you've ever plucked your nose hair, it's like that, but more hurty. Thankfully, Erin came with, and at this point I asked to hold her hand. I also had to ask the tech to stop a couple of times, so that I could sneeze and blow my nose.

The session lasted a little over an hour, and she cleared most of the remaining facial hair. Hair grows in cycles, with one set of follicles being dormant while another set grows, so I'll have to have my face done at least a couple more times to clear everything.

Once she was done, she had me hold a metal rod with a cord sticking out, and I started wondering why she wanted to electrocute me. She applied what smelled like VapoRub to my face, then pressed a metal roller to my skin, and I could feel a very mild current as she rolled it around. Apparently this is called cataphoresis or electrophoresis, which reduces redness by causing pores and blood vessels to constrict, and helps transfer medicinal substances into the tissue. Who knew?

She asked me not to touch my face or wear any makeup for a couple of days, to avoid infection. Most of the redness went away after a couple of hours, but my face was sore for the rest of the day, and there are still some tiny red spots and slightly tender areas four days later.

I definitely plan on taking some pain meds before my next appointment on the 18th. Since I normally avoid meds, they're pretty effective when I do take them. That should be enough to get me through the rest of my face work, but I don't know what to do for the genital electrolysis. Some people go as far as using numbing cream, or even local anesthesia. I'm really not looking forward to it. =/

After just one face-clearing session, I wouldn't say that electrolysis is the worst part of my transition, but we'll see if I feel differently about it after the surgery prep work. *knock on wood*

Video: Documenting my Voice(s)

2011-04-02T04:30:00.003-06:00

"And if you're still within the sound of my voice, watching this video,
I just want you to know that it always made me rejoice,
Just to have you so near, there's a place for you here,
If you're still within the sound of my voice."
-- Linda Ronstadt, Still Within the Sound of my Voice

Video documentation, ZOMG!

I wanted to show the progress that I've made on my voice over the last year, and the only way to really do that is to record it, so voilà! Just a heads up, I switch in to my old voice-- or at least, as close as I can get to my old voice-- which may look/sound a little weird. ;)

Something else that really helped in figuring out my new voice is the fact that I've always done a lot of impressions. It took me about three months of reading and watching videos about the human voice to get the basics of it down, but about seven or eight months before I stopped having to think about my voice every time I spoke. I also took a vocal feminization class, which ended up not helping me in the slightest. These days, the new voice is habit; it's the way I talk when I wake up, and it's the voice my internal monologue uses. =)

Surgical Decisions and Scheduling

2011-02-16T00:40:00.003-07:00

"I'm so much closer than,
I have ever known.
Wake up!
Better thank your lu-cky stars."
-- Green Day, Waiting

I've decided on a surgeon, and scheduled my SRS! =D

After my last post debating the pros and cons of various surgeons, I couldn't get surgery off my brain. The more I mulled it over, the more I liked the idea of Dr. Bowers' "one stage" procedure, but I still had concerns. I realized that the main reason I like Dr Meltzer is not just because he's good at what he does, but because I know he's good.

I've read tons of accounts from satisfied trans women who've had their surgeries performed by Meltzer; I've seen quite a few images of the great results he can provide; I've even read a step-by-step walk through of his procedure, complete with graphic images detailing every part of the surgery. So, I resolved to find just as much information on Bowers.

This last weekend, I read countless threads on around eight or nine different trans forums, I found newer pictures of surgeries Dr. Bowers had performed, and I even managed to find a video of her performing a MtF reassignment surgery. While everything I learned swayed me more and more towards Dr. Bowers, it was the video that did me in; the woman is a freaking artist. If you'd like to see it, I'll warn you that it's very graphic (NSFW), and not for the faint of heart, but you can find it here.

Yes, the video is scary, but I also find it fascinating; I love information. What amazes me the most from watching the video is how simple she makes the procedure look. Though I'm no expert, coming from what I do know, her procedure seems very straightforward and smooth. It also filled in some gaps in my knowledge of how she operates, and reassured me that her "one stage" technique is only subtly different from the standard. It's enough to make an aesthetic difference, without adding any extra healing burden.

On Monday morning, I called her office, and her staff informed me that I needed to fill out an application found on the website. I emailed the app back to them this morning, with a note asking to call me to arrange payment by phone for the $500 deposit. I was anxious, but I tried to continue my day, figuring it would take at least a day or two for them to call me back. Nope! Within an hour of sending the email, my phone rang, and a helpful woman named Robin worked out the deposit and scheduling with me.

My reserved surgery date is February 12th, 2012, but I'm on a cancellation list for November/December of 2011. She told me that they often have cancellations, and that they should be able to get me in this year. While November would be ideal, I can live with February if I have to, so either way, I'm set.

On a related note, thank you tons and tons to those who have donated to my surgery fund! Even a couple of dollars here and there adds up, and helps a lot! <3

I still have a bunch to do, including getting two letters of recommendation for surgery, having some electrolysis done, and working out the time off I'll need from work. I don't know if I can contain my anxiousness for nine months to a year, but I'm sure it will fly by faster than I can imagine. =)

Holidays, and Planning for Surgery

2011-02-10T01:04:00.002-07:00

"Did you ever have to make up your mind,
Pick up on one and leave the other behind?
It's not often easy and not often kind;
Did you ever have to make up your mind?"
-- Lovin' Spoonful, Did You Ever Have to Make up Your Mind

Whooh! It's been a while. Shall we catch up? =D

The holidays came and went, and Erin and I kept Christmas small in order to save money for other things. I saw family, many of whom I only see at Christmas, and some of whom hadn't seen the new me yet. Quite a few people gave me that soul penetrating curious stare, as if reconciling it all in their heads just requires looking at and through me for a while. I can't say it really bugs me; it never feels malicious, just weird. =)

Quite a few other family members complemented me on my looks, including my mom, stepdad, aunts, and a few cousins. As someone with chronic self-esteem issues, I treasure every piece of unsolicited praise I get. More importantly, I think most of them have had time to adjust, and those that have just act normally now, which is nice.

So far this year has been pretty uneventful, except that I've been thinking about surgery lately. A lot. It feels like the concept is always looming over me, waiting to consume my thoughts whenever I have a free moment. As I wrote here, I plan to have the surgery eventually, it's just a matter of when. I know that I wouldn't have been ready six months ago, but each day that the thought has been left to marinate, I've become a little less afraid, and a little more anxious to just get it over with.

Marriage put even more urgency on it; I feel guilty for holding back our lives with this huge financial burden. Erin has said many times that she doesn't mind helping with this, but I know that the sooner it's done, the sooner we can start working towards other goals.

It's the money that complicates the timing the most at this point. I'm thinking (hoping?) that around November 2011 would be a good time in many ways. It's far enough out that I can hopefully book it, and can hopefully have the funds ready, but close enough to satisfy my wanting to have it done with already. Thanks to a court ruling almost exactly a year ago, SRS is considered a tax deductible medical expense, making the end-of-year timing even more beneficial. Of course, if I want to schedule it for then, I need to figure out if we'll have the money and who will be performing my surgery soon.

One good thing about insurance not covering surgery is that I'm free to choose any surgeon I can pay for, but deciding on a surgeon for something so life-altering is extremely difficult. Researching surgeons is frustrating at best. The internets have provided a lot more information than might have been had 20 years ago, but not nearly as much as you might think.

The major surgeons have websites with pages of text on things like aftercare, but never much detail on their technique. They'll post pictures of their best patient results, but these aren't always informative as a sampling, especially when they haven't posted new results since 2004. Talking to other trans women helps, but each person obviously only gets one reassignment surgery from one surgeon, so it's nearly impossible to compare things like sensation. It's also (understandably) a very private thing for many people, so it's tough to find a large enough sampling to feel like I really know a surgeon's work and range of outcomes.

My main concerns are good sensation, good aesthetics, and no complications. Since I'm big on informed decisions, I've only been considering the surgeons I can find the most information on. This also has a side effect of leaving me with the popular surgeons, who also have the most experience. So far, I've been focusing a handful of them: Toby Meltzer, Pierre Brassard, Suporn Watanyusakul, and Marci Bowers. These are all excellent surgeons, and I've seen pictures of good results from all of them. With the exception of Dr Suporn, they also use the same basic penile inversion technique, though everyone has their own subtle variations.

Dr Suporn works out of Thailand (Chon Buri), where more reassignment surgeries are performed each year than in any other country. As far as I can tell, his fee is around 500,000 Baht, which is about $16,000 US, but I would also have to pay for travel. His technique is well known for providing greater vaginal depth, which is something many trans women are concerned about. This seems to be a holdover from a time when the standard techniques didn't provide enough depth to have intercourse. Being a lesbian, depth is not really a priority for me. ;)

Traveling also comes with its own set of complications. If I went out of country, I'd likely stay there for about a month to recover. I would want Erin to come with, but bringing her would increase travel costs, and there's no way we can both take a month off of work. She could come home early, but she's scared of traveling alone (and I don't blame her). I've also spent a month in another country without her before, twice, and we both hated being apart for that long.

Dr Brassard works out of Montreal, Quebec, which would come with some of the same travel issues. From what I can find, his cost is around $18,000. I haven't done much in-depth research on him, mainly due to being put off by the travel concerns. Based on what I've seen, he uses more of the urethral mucosa than most, and I don't think I like what this does to the look of the final result.

Dr Bowers used to be in Trinidad, CO, but recently moved, and now works out of San Mateo, CA, about an 11 hour drive from SLC. I called her office for her cost, and it's about $22,500. Marci is a trans woman herself, and learned her technique from Dr Stanley Biber, though she has made many of her own modifications and improvements since taking over his practice when Biber retired in 2003.

While many surgeons recommend a "second stage" outpatient procedure called a labiaplasty at least three months after the initial surgery, mainly for cosmetic improvements, Marci is often touted as performing a "one stage" procedure. Labiaplasties cost around $4,000-$5,000 dollars, plus another trip to the surgeon, and more healing, so that's quite a savings, but some people still opt for a labiaplasty after SRS with Marci, and some people opt not to get one after SRS with "two stage" surgeons, so I don't know how much weight to put in this.

Dr Meltzer works out of Scottsdale, part of Phoenix, AZ, which is also about 11 hours from SLC. I emailed his office, and they quoted his current cost at about $25,000. Of all the result pics I've seen, his outcomes seem the most consistent and "clean", but I especially like the aesthetics of his results after the "second stage" labiaplasty. Though the labiaplasty could be performed any time down the road, this would obviously put my total cost much higher.

Overall I'm thinking it's between Meltzer or Bowers. Yes, they're the most expensive, but for good reason, and they're both close. Here's where I need your help.

If you're trans, do you have an opinion on any of these surgeons? If so, please tell me why you feel the way you do, good or bad. Also, does anyone have any other surgeons I should be considering? I've also briefly looked in to McGinn, Alter, and Reed.

And finally, I've got around $12,000 saved, and we should be able to save most of the rest by the end of the year, but every bit added will help us feel safer, less anxious, and more confident. I've set up a donation button on the right side of my profile, where people can send money to my cause. I personally hate asking for money, so please know that it is with a very humble heart that I ask for donations. This is a daunting cost for a newlywed couple; while I secretly hope donations can help us fill in the unknown gap, we will figure this out one way or another. If you donate anything at all, feel free to brag about it... or leave it anonymous if that's more your style.

Thank you, and I love you. <3

New Doc, New Meds, New Prescription Madness

2010-11-04T22:37:00.002-06:00

"You kn-kn-know what I want!
Gimme more. Gimme more.
Pretty please, a prescription!"
-- Mindless Self Indulgence, Prescription

I usually avoid talking very specifically about my body, but this is pretty limiting in a transition blog. Physical changes are a huge part of my transition, and if any place should be safe to talk about them, it should be here... I just worry that I'll make other people uncomfortable. Since I've really got to stop worrying so much about other people, I'm just gonna give you a heads up: I will talk about my boobs. There, I've said it. Whether you know me or not, if you think you might be uncomfortable with me talking about anatomy, nobody will blame you for ducking out. =P

As usual, I've waited far too long to talk about what's going on in my life, and I've got quite a backlog, so let's catch up on hormones. =)

My first endocrinologist sucked, so about four months ago, a month before my hormone prescription ran out, I decided to look for a new doc. I had three goals in mind: find someone who cares, is in my insurance, and prescribes *progesterone. I got a big list of endos and ratings of said endos from various trans friends, then narrowed it down by insurance, and started making calls. The only one within my plan that was taking new patients however, was only accepting referrals from a primary care physician. The good news was that there was a PCP in the same office that works closely with the endo. The bad news? The physician was booked about a month out, and the endo three months. =/

*(Progesterone is a primarily female hormone often prescribed as part of both post-menopausal and transsexual hormone replacement, but many docs are afraid of it, because some synthetics have been known for nasty side-effects, and its full effects on development aren't well known. Progesterone is key in breast development, among other things, but there is still a lot of disagreement as to how much is gained, and which meds, if any, benefit trans-women the most. Part of the problem is that most of the data comes from post-menopausal women, and broad testing with trans-women is virtually non-existent.)

Since I wouldn't see the new endo for a while, I called my old doc to ask for an extension on my prescription, and she told me that she would grant it, but never followed up. Fortunately, my appointment with the new PCP was just a few days after my prescription expired.

The new physician was awesome! She listened, she answered, she genuinely cared. I know, weird, right? She even chatted with me excitedly about my (then) upcoming wedding, and gave me a three month extension to last until I could see the endo. About a month later, when I went through my legal name/gender change, she was also nice enough to write up a letter of recommendation for me to present to the judge.

When I finally saw my new endocrinologist, she was just as cool. She was extremely enthusiastic in getting to know me and explaining things to me in detail. Before I could even bring up the progesterone, she asked, "How's your breast growth?" I explained that I'd had some growth spurts in the beginning, but nothing much since then, and she immediately followed up with "We should get you on progesterone!" =D

Of course, there's always a hitch. To save myself from having to go in at different times for different prescriptions, I waited for my other two to run out before filling the progesterone. When I did, the pharmacy informed me that I could now get three months of the spironolactone and estradiol, but that my insurance would only let me get one month to start on the progesterone. That seemed reasonable, but when I got home, I realized that they only gave me half my normal dose of spiro. It turned out that the new endo had accidentally prescribed it wrong. =/

Unlike with my old endo though, I was actually able to get a hold of one of the new doctor's staff, and they immediately sent a correction. The pharmacy then told me that I should just take the spiro at the correct dosage, and that they'd get it corrected at the 45-day marker when my supply is gone.

Last night, I called in a refill on the progesterone, but when I picked it up, they said they only had enough for 5 days, and that they'll call me in the next few days when the rest is available. I also asked them about the spiro, and they told me that they'll probably just refill for three more months when I run out.

So now, even though I'm getting meds for three months at a time, I had to go in yesterday for the progesterone, I'll have to go back in a few days for more progesterone, then back in two weeks for the spiro, again 45 days later for the estradiol, and repeat. Despite my efforts, my three prescriptions will never be on the same schedule again. *sigh*

Anywho, I've now been on progesterone for one month, and I've definitely noticed a few effects. Like with my first hormone post, I'll just present the evidence, and let you decide what's unrelated/psychosomatic and what's not. =P

My breasts have been tender and itchy almost constantly for the last month, which indicates growth to me. This is basically what it felt like off-and-on when I first started hormones. Their shape has also rounded out a bit, and they look more natural.
I've noticed some skin changes, and the weirdest thing, the tattoo on my back sometimes "raises", and I can feel bumps where the lines are; when this happens, it's also itchy.
My skin is a little more oily, and I've gotten a few more zits than usual.
My anxiety is back, which is odd, because progesterone is supposed to be calming. Of course, this could easily be due to a lot of other things going on, too. =P

I really haven't experienced any extreme side effects so far; the acne is a little annoying, but hopefully that will fade after a few months, as it did when I first started on hormones. Otherwise, med-related things are going pretty hunky-dory, and still far better than when I had to deal with my old endo. =)

Legal Name and Gender Change

2010-10-01T18:45:00.004-06:00

"I don't need to prove myself;
I just need to be myself.
It doesn't show what I'm trying to be;
It just shows who I am."
-- Anthrax, Packaged Rebellion

Old news to most people, but I changed my legal name and gender marker! W00T!

The initial process involved $350, a lot of forms, letters from my therapist and doctor, two court hearings, and visits to Vital Records, the Social Security offices, and the Driver's License division, but it has definitely been worth it. My awesome new legal name is Vivienne Melody Blue, and I've spent the last couple of weeks calling and/or visiting various institutions to get them to update it.

For some businesses, this is super easy. For example my gas and power companies simply verified some information over the phone, then made the change.

For other businesses, it's like pulling teeth. First off, many businesses assume a "name change" for a female-sounding person automatically means I've only changed my last name, due to a marriage. I have to get used to saying "I've changed my full legal name, first and last", and even that doesn't always do the trick. They start acting like it's a very strange and suspicious request, and sometimes bombard me with questions about why I changed it. Normally I'm such an open person that this wouldn't be a problem, but when they're such assholes about it, I get defensive as a matter of principle (and to be honest, it's none of their business).

Yesterday, I called my health insurance company. They're one of the last major businesses I have to call, because I wanted to make sure it was updated with my work first. After asking me to verify the information on the account I've had with them for a couple of years now, I had this fun conversation:

Rep: "How can I help you?"
Me: "My name has changed, and I need to make sure that's updated in your system."
"Ok, and is this Davin?"
"Well, that's not my name anymore."
"Ok, who am I speaking with then?"
"I'm the same person, I'm just not called 'Davin'."
"Oh... Can I put you on hold?"
*irritating hold music for a minute or two*
"Ok, Davin?"
URGH!
"Are you there? I've got Eileen from somethingsomething services on the line."
Eileen: "What can we do for you?"
"Well, my name is no longer Davin."
"Ok, what is your name?"
"Vivienne Blue."
"...Ok, I'm confused... is Davin your husband?"
"No. My name has changed from Davin to Vivienne."
"Ok, so you're the policy holder?"
"Yes."
"Ok, and you're new to eBay?"
"No, I've been with them for a few years."
"Ok... so you're just getting insurance for the first time?"
"Nope. I've been with you for a few years, too." (Aren't you looking at my account?!)

In the end, I had to call eBay HR to have them to push the info over. Fortunately the HR rep was much more reasonable and understanding, or I probably would've had an aneurysm. =P

I'm sure I'll be finding the old name in unexpected places for years, but in the mean time, it's great not having to worry about people giving me weird looks or claiming I'm not me when they check my ID. It's also really comforting to be called "Ms/Mrs Blue" by strangers over the phone. I still sign the old name out of habit at least once a day, but I'm slowly getting used to it. =)

At this point, I've got a new birth certificate, social security card, driver's license, work badge, and bank card.

Shiny new birth certificate

And driver's license

Now I just have to figure out the most painless way to convince people that Erin and I really are two females legally married in the state of Utah. ><

Wedding Day! Part 2

2010-09-17T02:21:00.004-06:00

"Me and you, and you and me,
No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be,
The only one for me is you, and you for me,
So happy together."
-- The Turtles, Happy Together

Whew! Where to start? Where to start?

The two biggest things that have happened recently are my legal name change and my wedding. I should probably separate them in to two posts, so for now I'll stick to the wedding. =)

I posted regarding our engagement back in February, and a short post on our wedding day last week. Honestly I'm a bit surprised that's all I've posted, because a lot of my life over the past few months has been doing various planning and preparation for the wedding.

We held both the ceremony and reception at Erin's mom's last Friday, and they were both awesome.

Friday morning, after doing the final prep-work, including our hair/makeup/clothes, we met our photographer (my uncle) at Murray Park for some photos. Then we headed back to the venue and started greeting family and friends as they arrived. The ceremony was performed by our friend Eric, who did an amazing job, and I bawled through the entire thing.

After the ceremony, we took a few pics with family and friends, followed by a hilariously corny toast by our friend George:

From there, Erin and I got tipsy and wandered around the house/yard, talking to various guests as they arrived for the reception party. At some point during the night we also managed to shove cake in each other's faces, and threw one of our two bouquets. For a guest book, we made 4x6 cards for everyone to write some advice on, and ended up filling half a photo album with them.

Almost everyone from both of our immediate families attended the ceremony, including my parents, grandpa, three of my four sisters, my brother, Erin's parents, grandma, sister, and brothers. I know at least a few of these people were still unsure on the idea of such a queer wedding, and some of them hadn't even seen me since transition, so it meant a lot to us that they came and supported us anyway.

All in all it was exactly what we wanted: laid back, fun, simple, but still romantic and memorable. It was also a blast having our friends and families mingling, and there were many times during the night when I'd pull a common interest out of the air just to get two random friends chatting. It's fascinating to step back and watch two people I've known for years become friends. My friend Kyle described the whole event as "floating in a sea of happy", and I couldn't agree more. It was without a doubt the best day of my life, from start to finish.

On Saturday, we relaxed and hung out with Erin's brother who was in town from California for the wedding. And on Sunday, we drove out to Wendover (a nearby town just over the Nevada border), had dinner with my mom/stepdad, played Blackjack/slots together, and spent the night in a hotel room with a jacuzzi tub.

We're meeting up with my uncle this Saturday to get the rest of the photos and help him out with his school project on diversity; so hopefully I'll post some more pics in a few days. =)

Wedding Day!

2010-09-10T08:50:00.002-06:00

"Now we're together nearly every single day, singin'

Doo-wah-diddy diddy-dum diddy-do;

We're so happy and that's how we're gonna stay, singin'

Doo-wah-diddy diddy-dum diddy-do;

I'm hers (I'm hers), she's mine (she's mine),

Wedding bells are gonna chime"

-- Rick Springfield, Doo Wah Diddy Diddy

Short post! I have a ton that I've been meaning to update on, but for now, I just wanted to say that it's my wedding day! Hooray!

At first, we were thinking about just having a simple ceremony at the courthouse. Then we decided that we should do that, but move it outside. Next we moved the venue to Erin's mom's house, to go back to simple. And then we thought, "If we're having it at Erin's mom's, we might as well invite more people.", and it has kept on building.

Fortunately we've still managed to keep it fairly simple, as weddings go, and the toughest part has been trying to let go of other peoples' expectations and pressures. We just don't care as much about the stupid little details as we do about being surrounded by friends and family, and I'm pretty sure we've managed that.

Since Erin and I have been (living) together for almost five years, this really isn't going to change much for us, so I'm more nervous about something going wrong than I am about actually marrying her. I need to just take a deep breath, focus on my wonderful bride and the people around us, and let that which does not matter truly slide. =)

1 Year on Hormones

2010-08-12T00:48:00.003-06:00

"Every year is getting shorter,
Never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught,
Or half a page of scribbled lines."
-- Pink Floyd, Time

It's been just over a year since I started on hormones! W00t!

I actually took my first couple of doses in late-July of 2009, but then decided to hold off for a couple of weeks so that I could bank some *ahem* genetic material (testosterone regulates sperm production). I don't know whether that means my "official" E-day is in July or in August; either way, the year has really flown by.

I posted regarding the effects of hormones last December, and most of it still holds true. The physical changes have slowed down considerably, but haven't stopped by any means.

I've taken tons of pictures of myself over the last year (not every day, but still), which I hope to turn in to a slideshow at some point, but since that will take more time and motivation than I'm willing to devote for now, here are some before and after pics.

Before hormones/laser/transition:

And recently, after hormones/laser/transition:

Wedding Plans in Mormon Central

2010-07-27T02:10:00.005-06:00

"Work it harder, make it better,
Do it faster, makes us stronger;

More than ever, hour after,

Our work is never over."

-- Daft Punk, Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

Lots happening lately, which is good!

This morning, Erin and I finally managed to go order wedding invitations. We've been procrastinating, like we do with everything, but we're getting down to the wire at this point, so we figured we'd better get it done.

On the way to the printer's, we got pulled over for an expired registration-- another thing I've been forgetting/procrastinating for far too long (yeah, I know, it's dumb). As nervous and annoyed as I was, the officer was actually very nice and professional. He gave me a ticket (which I deserved), but didn't once mention my male ID, other than to ask if Davin is the name I prefer to go by. Yay!

Erin picked out Jaffa Printing, and the lady there was very helpful. We ended up choosing a cute polka-dot patterned border, which I'm sure I'll post a picture of later. The design is very fun, less formal, and very us. At one point, the clerk asked for the groom's name, then blurted out "You're the groom!?", but after I nodded, she quickly recovered, and didn't mention it again.

Everywhere we go, I'm constantly surprised at the lack of overt discrimination by businesses in conservative Utah. I have to think it's a combination of people coming around and realizing they want our money anyway, and luck. Some people even seem more enthusiastic about helping us out once they realize we're marrying each other.

The Bed Bath and Beyond in Jordan Landing is another great example. When we got registered there a few days back, they didn't seem to be thrown off by it at all. Employees kept coming by as we were scanning to congratulate us and ask if we needed help, and the main girl helping us asked cute questions, like how we met. She also asked, out of curiosity, what my legal name was, and seemed genuinely surprised by the answer. All in all a great experience.

In other news, I also finally managed to get a hold of my dad today. Apparently the number I've been calling for weeks is a work number that he doesn't answer. -_- I can't keep track of his many cell phones any more.

Anywho, I hadn't actually talked to him since I came out to him in December. Somehow I managed to push through the conversation, and let him know that Erin and I are getting married, that nobody calls me Davi anymore, and that I'm switching Blue from my middle name to my last name. Whew! Apparently it all went over ok, because we're planning to get together for dinner this Saturday. It should be interesting having him see the new me for the first time.

Last, but not least, I went shopping today, and I think I've finally figured out what I'll be wearing to our wedding! Erin has ordered a very beautiful dress, but I've never been a fan of fancy clothes. Growing up, I hated the idea of getting married in a tux, but since anything else was out of the question, I also didn't dream of wearing a dress. At the same time, I don't want to look silly next to Erin, so today I picked up some slacks, new shoes, a white button-up shirt, and a cute black business-type jacket, open at the collar (all for around $100!).

I'm pretty proud of myself for putting together a cute outfit on my own (though I'm going to have a harder time with accessories), and for getting so much that we've been worried about out of the way. Hopefully I can ride this high for a while; we've still got a lot to do!

Blending in, For Better or Worse

2010-07-23T19:16:00.003-06:00

"I'm just a face in the crowd,
Nothing to worry about,
Not even trying to stand out;
I'm getting smaller and smaller and smaller."
-- Nine Inch Nails, Getting Smaller

I've been passing a lot lately, which is nice. Everywhere I go, I get "miss"ed or "ma'am"ed by strangers, including on the phone and voice chat (which was my original voice goal- w00t)! I'm so happy to be talking online again, even if I still get nervous that I'm talking too much, or that I may slip back in to my old voice when I get excited.

Passing is pretty important to me, mostly because I like being able to blend in. Being perceived as female also means that I don't get harassed in bathrooms, and puts the control of when, how, and if I tell people I'm trans in to my hands.

I once read an interesting question: "If you were the only person left in the world, would you still need to transition?" My answer would be a definite "no." To me, transition is an act of moving from one social box to another. If I were the only one left in the world, I wouldn't need to fit in to either box, but I'd still look/talk/act a lot closer to how I do today than how I did two years ago.

Unfortunately, we live in a society that is very focused on the gender binary. I've learned to walk a fine line, as I think many people do, between what's truly me, and what's societally acceptable for my gender. The difference between trying to do this as a male, and trying to do this as a female, is that I feel much more comfortable now.

Over the last year, and especially the last few months, I've continually tried on new aspects of appearance, personality, speech, etc. I try a trait to see if it feels like me, if it's passable, if it's sustainable, then I either adopt it, or toss it in the bin. I like to think that I'm speed-learning the things I may have learned growing up, had my life been a little different. I also know, of course, that I have a long way to go, and that my presentation will always be improving.

It's interesting, all the subtle differences in how strangers look at me and talk to me since I've started presenting as female, but there are two changes that stand out the most.

First, people open doors for me everywhere I go.

And second, random people give Erin and me dirty looks at the slightest sign of PDA. Erin has no problems with it, but it's taken me a long time to get used to. Of course, when I appeared male, nobody had any problem with us. Now, the only thing that's really changed is my appearance, and suddenly they don't approve. If they only knew. >=D

Showing my ID is also getting more and more awkward. Sometimes I warn people that "it's the wrong gender". Most people just furrow their brows a bit and move on, but a few weeks ago at a bar, the server declared "This isn't you."
I replied that it was indeed me, though "I know I looked a little different with the goatee."

"Oh. It is you."

Of course, the fun part was then explaining the confusion to the friends of friends I was with.

I've started figuring out all the paper work for a legal name change. (Thanks Dexter for helping me out!) The first step is to get certification from the sex offender registry that I'm not in it. From there, I basically just fill out a whole bunch of forms, and schedule a court hearing. I'm excited, because it will take a lot of worry and hassle out of life, but at the same time, I'll miss those opportunities to bring attention to my trans status.

I feel like I'm reaching a turning point. Just as I'm learning to like identifying as trans, and beginning to consider how much I have to offer the T community, even just by being out and being me, I can also see how easy it would be to put this behind me and be a "normal" girl. I can understand why a lot of transsexuals choose to move to a new place and start a new life. Even though I knew from the beginning that I couldn't do that, I don't blame them in the slightest.

Personally, I hate keeping secrets about myself, and I'll probably always be out, but how active I want to be as an advocate is a question I've yet to answer.

Utah Pride, 2010

2010-06-11T01:15:00.004-06:00

"Won't explain, or say I'm sorry.
I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scar.

Give a cheer, for all the broken,
Listen here, because it's only..."
-- My Chemical Romance, Welcome to the Black Parade

This last weekend was the Utah Pride Festival.

This was only my second year attending Pride. Last year, I watched the parade and wandered the festival with friends; this year I was much more active and involved.

On Saturday, Erin and I attended Utah's first ever Transgender March, which was awesome. Apparently we had around 100 people, which is much more than most of the people I talked to had predicted. Hopefully they'll do it again next year, as I'm sure it will only grow from here. They held the Dyke rally and Trans rally at the same time, which made me sad, but I have to go first and foremost with the T. The great part about the way it was done is that the two marches were able to join forces at a mid-point, along with the Interfaith Pride March, and then head down State Street in droves. George also met up with us at the mid-point, and was even sweet enough to hold a sign that said "Trans Fabulous" high and proud for me.

I wish I'd planned a little better, but by the time the marches ended, I only had about half an hour until my shift in the eBay booth, and I was 9 city blocks away from my car, which had the eBay shirt I needed to wear in it. I took off towards my car while George and Erin headed for Trax to get home. I only ended up being about 10 minutes late, but the heat and the huge hill our capitol building is on just about killed me.

I'm very much a nighttime person, and I've never done well with the heat. Add to this that hormones have killed my internal temperature regulation, and that I haven't had my hair this long in years, and it isn't hard to conclude that I probably shouldn't even leave the house on a hot summer day.

On Sunday, Erin and I marched with the eBay folks in the Pride Parade, which was a hoot. We blasted Weird Al's "eBay", and handed out eBay temporary tattoos to everyone and anyone.

Erin and I, waiting for the Parade to start.

The eBay parade crew.

The back of the "I AM" shirts say "eBay", but the front seems to imply other meanings on its own. ;)

Handing out free stuff to the crowd.

Fortunately, I gave myself plenty of time before my booth shift this time, so after we were done with the parade, Wifey and I wandered over to Beans and Brews and zoned out on their comfy air-conditioned chairs while sipping iced mocha and iced chai for about an hour.

Next, we decided to wander the festival. The festival is great fun, and it's so nice to be in a place with so many people who don't care who you're holding hands with, but it's also pretty commercialized. Half the booths are selling jewelry or shirts or potpourri or who knows what, and most of the others are promoting a cause. We ended up skimming past most of the booths, and only lingered at a few of the more interesting ones, such as the "Gender Zone", where they had a great timeline of the history of gender variance.

This time, the Erinkins decided to just hang out with me while I helped out at the booth. We had silent auctions, with the proceeds going to charity, and for the most part I just helped people who wanted to bid and kept an eye on the goods, which at least kept me out of the sun. Unfortunately, I think it also kept me out of the occasional breeze. Even though my shift was only a couple of hours, by the end of it, I was zapped.

George met up with us again, and we went out to dinner, where I got to feel sweaty, gross, and stupid at a nice Japanese restaurant.

I'm very grateful to my love for tagging along and supporting me. Overall, I had a lot of fun, met some great people, and had a lot of good experiences where people were surprised to find out that I'm not a genetic female, but I ended up very emotionally and physically drained. Next year, I will definitely pick my battles more carefully, and try to hit up more shows, parties, celebrations, and other things I can passively enjoy. ;)

Voice Classes

2010-05-24T01:14:00.004-06:00

"Cause sometimes,
I said sometimes, I hear my voice

And it's been here,

Silent all these years."

-- Tori Amos, Silent All These Years

Egads! Has it really been a month since I've posted? And did I really just type "Egads!"? Bleh. I guess I should talk about the voice classes I recently finished while it's still semi-fresh in my mind, as much as it annoys me.

When I was still early in transition, voice classes were one of the things "on the list" that I definitely wanted to do, since hormones don't change the voice for male-to-female transpeople. Back then, I researched it the way I research everything: with the interwebs, but I couldn't find any. I know there are at least a few local speech/voice therapist/coaches, but I don't know if any of them work specifically with trans people. At the time, I was still afraid to tell even complete strangers that I was trans, which stopped me from ever calling and asking.

After a while, I put off the idea in favor of other things, and just practiced here and there on my own. I also did a lot of research; I read and watched how-tos, I learned about speech-patterns, pitch, resonance, vocal chords, and so on. I have a lot of the technical knowledge, but even with all that, it can be difficult to put it to use without someone to tell me if I'm doing it correctly.

A few months ago, I got an email on the Pride Center mailing list which said that a licensed speech therapist would be doing voice classes specifically for MtF trans people in March/April/May. I excitedly emailed the teacher to find out more about it, and she quickly replied to tell me that the class was $70 per person, and that we would work on expanding vocal range, flexibility, expression, pitch, resonance, intonation, "feminine" language choices, non-verbal communication, etc., via modified Fitzmaurice voicework, which is apparently something originally designed for actors. It sounded perfect, so I mailed a check.

A few days later, she emailed me to let me know that she received the check, when and where the first class was, and to bring workout clothes, a yoga mat, and water. Wait, what? Eh, apparently she incorporates yoga techniques... I wish I'd been informed of that earlier, but oh well, I decided to go anyway.

The class was only eight people, and I already knew a couple of them from elsewhere, which was nice. The first class ended up being mostly strange yoga-type positions, trying to find a "tremor", which was supposed to "shake up the voice". It was odd, but I figured that it was groundwork, and that I couldn't really judge its effectiveness until after the rest of the technique was revealed.

A few weeks/classes later, and we were still doing the same thing. What's worse, she never definitively tied these exercises in with the voice. Sometimes she would go back to vaguely explaining something about loosening up the voice, or show us a picture of the various tendons in the human body that run between the feet and the throat, still without giving us a definitive tie-in.

Eventually we moved in to learning about the muscles that control breathing, and how to be aware of them, which at least felt a little more relevant. It wasn't until around class 5 that we started learning some exercises for expanding vocal range, and experimenting with tone and such, yet we were still spending around 2/3 of each class doing stretches. By the end of class 6, I wasn't sure if I wanted to come back, though I kept reasoning that perhaps I'd learn something big in the last couple of classes that would make it all worthwhile. From class 7 on, we finally stopped doing any of the yoga stuff, and it suddenly felt like she was struggling to catch up.

To make things worse, there were supposed to be 10 classes, but she wasn't sure if we would have the venue for the final class or not. We were supposed to find out at class 9, but I forgot to go that day, and realized afterward that I didn't feel badly about it, so I didn't bother finding out about the last week.

Maybe I'm being a bit harsh... I'm only semi-pissed about the money, as it's a lesson learned, but I feel like it was the time I spent there that was the big loss. Oh well, some would say I have too much time on my hands already. ;) I hope the other people in the class felt better than I did about it. A few people had to rearrange their schedules and even bus to get there each week.

I think I've gotten my voice to a fairly androgynous place through my own practice. My current voice is usually enough to be passable in person, but my main concern is on the phone and online video games, where my voice has to represent me without the visual reinforcing. In games is the only place that I don't tell everyone about my past, mostly because I don't feel like constantly explaining, and because people online can be extremely cruel.

A friend recently asked if I'm afraid that I'll sound fake. I do worry about that (to be fair I worry about everything), but I know that practice will help make it sound less fake, and people can just deal with it in the mean time. I do get a lot of compliments on my voice, so I must be doing something right. Erin also says that it "freaks her out" when I accidentally switch to my old boy voice. I guess it's just going to take time. At least now that I'm fully socially transitioned, I practice every day, whether I like it or not. ;)

The Biggest Decision I've Ever Made

2010-04-22T22:46:00.005-06:00

"This is life,
What a f***ed up thing we do,

What a nightmare come true,

Or a playground if we choose,

And I choose."

-- Offspring, I Choose

Transition has been one set of objectives after another... hair removal, various stages of coming out, therapy, hormones, bathroom issues, work. My life has turned in to a strange series of stepping stones, which I think the rest of the world calls "goals". I have no clue how "normal people" go about their lives like this; I have no idea how I've done it for the past year, but it has definitely improved things for me.

With the bulk of work transition successfully behind me, the next life steps I'm looking toward are marriage, and a legal name change, but I keep asking myself, "What's after that?"

I guess I don't know why there has to be a next step, but it feels like there should be, and I never really planned this far out. Suddenly the road forks in big ways, and I don't know which forks to take.

I hate decisions, especially big permanent decisions. When I was a kid, I came up with all sorts of rationalizations for why my decisions were not important, just to make it through the day without anxiety attacks. Some day I'll write several posts just about all the life "rules" that I came up with during my teenage years, and still use, but for now I'll spare you by sticking to the ones about decisions:

If I can't decide between two or more options with a reasonable amount of information and time, then all options must be nearly equal, and I may as well just pick one.
If time and space are infinite, then my decisions are infinitely unimportant.
If a decision can be undone, and doesn't cause permanent harm, it's ok to try it just to try it.

Unfortunately, the decisions I need to make now are bigger than anything I've dealt with before. Especially with regards to "the" surgery. Rule C above doesn't apply, since it can't be undone. B isn't much comfort now that I'm emotionally invested in my own future (I know, what a weird concept, but it is surprisingly new to me). And A, well, it somehow doesn't seem appropriate to flip a coin or Rock-Paper-Scissors for this one.

Don't get me wrong; if Sexual Reassignment Surgery (SRS) were cheap, with safe and predictable results, I would do it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, surgery is expensive (around $15,000-$20,000), and comes with many risks and possible complications. For a young and relatively healthy person such as myself, the risks are lessened, but extremely scary nonetheless. This is a major surgery, after all.

There's also the timing issue. Due to the Standards of Care, I can't have SRS until I've been living "in role" for at least a year. Shouldn't this make the decision less urgent? It would, except that $20,000 is not pocket change, and I've failed to save more than a few thousand in the last year. If I want to do this, I'm going to need to start saving aggressively, and even selling a lot of the nostalgic junk I've held on to over the years.

It would be nice if insurance covered any of the cost. The American Medical Association's House of Delegates passed several resolutions in 2008 asserting, among other things, that Gender Identity Disorder is a serious medical condition, that treatment is not "cosmetic" or "experimental" but is medically necessary, and that denying coverage is discriminatory. Most insurers however, go right on with their blanket policy exclusions, or statements that GID is a "pre-existing condition". Of course, I know that's not why most insurance companies don't cover GID. They don't cover it because they don't have to, even though its low prevalence means that paying these costs would likely be much less impacting to their bottom line than most seem to think.

Most reassignment surgeons are also booked anywhere from six months to a year out at any given time, which means I need to know whether or not I'll have all the money quite a while in advance of when I actually have the surgery.

I want the surgery. I know that it would make me feel a lot better about myself, despite the fact that it may only ever matter to me and one other person. In the end, I have to acknowledge that my fears are the biggest thing stopping me, and flying in the face of those fears has gotten me too far to stop now.

I decided a couple of weeks ago that I will definitely be getting the surgery, it's just a matter of when and how. As much as I hate to, I will probably eventually have to ask for some help. For now though, I'm going to see how far I can get on my own.

Work Transition: My Birthday Present to Me

2010-04-08T18:34:00.017-06:00

"So if you think it's scary, if it's more than you can take,
Just blow out the candles, and have a piece of cake!
Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday to you!"
-- Weird Al Yankovic, Happy Birthday

Disclaimer:
All opinions posted here are my own, and not necessarily representative of the company I work for

On Monday, I transitioned at work. A few people have asked me what that means, and each time, I suddenly remember that this isn't all self-explanatory. Outside of work, I've been dressing how I like and going by my new name and female pronouns for a few months now. At work, however, none of these changes had happened yet.

I came out to all my coworkers in November, but so far, I had decided that I wasn't quite comfortable enough with the new me to make the transition leap at work. I continued wearing a sports bra, baggy t-shirts, androgynous earrings, no makeup, and talking in my old voice. About a month ago, I decided I was finally ready, and that pretending to be male was getting a little bit too awkward.

I informed my supervisor, and started meeting with HR and management to plan it all. We created different communication plans for my local teammates (one meeting a few days before hand, to prepare them), the local center (a top-down communication to all leadership, so they can be prepared if any rumors or concerns surface), and the various other teams and people I work with globally (basic communication from their leadership). We planned for a new name tag, badge, preferred name in the system, etc. When it came to the bathroom issue, I told them that I was worried about it, because I know it can be a very sensitive issue for a lot of people, but they reassured me that it was no problem, and that I would probably just use the women's.

A couple of weeks before transition, the HR rep met with me, and told me she would be meeting with legal the next day, to review the plan. She wanted to get a clear idea of my thoughts on the bathroom issue, so she could represent them properly while discussing it with the powers that be, so she asked "What if, for some legal reason, they say you have to use the men's room?"

Anxiety set in. After a pause, I choked out "I guess... I wouldn't transition at work."

"Then how would you continue your whole process?"
The tears started, "I guess... I would have to leave the company."
"Wouldn't you have to face this kind of thing at any company you work for?"
"...Yep."

We talked some more, and she reassured me that she just wanted to clarify my feelings-- that nothing had actually been decided yet. I tried desperately to calm myself down. I felt pretty stupid, but she was really sweet about it, and asked me to come talk to her first thing the next day, since she was meeting with them earlier in the morning.

Thankfully, the next day, she told me that the meeting had gone well, and that I would be using the women's restroom. They decided that there would be more questions/complaints/awkwardness if I were using the men's room, than if I were using the women's. Yeah, I could've told you that. =P

Day 1 (Monday)
On Monday, April 5th, I went in to the office as myself for the first time. I met up with the HR rep, who sat me in a meeting room to give me time to breathe and make sure I was ok. I think I was shaking. When I was ready, we went to the security office, and got a new badge printed out, complete with new name and picture.

When I got to my desk, everyone was very natural and easygoing about it, which helped a lot. One of my awesome female coworkers gave me a necklace, because "Every woman needs a black necklace that can go with anything." So. Sweet. =3

There were a few slip-ups with the name, but I never got a chance to correct anyone before they did it themselves. I was still terrified of the bathrooms, and avoided going for most of the day. At around 5 hours in to my shift, I finally decided that it wasn't worth a bladder infection, and convinced myself that I'd have to get over my fear eventually. I decided to use the upstairs bathrooms, to hopefully avoid seeing anyone I know. I actually didn't end up seeing anyone at all. On the way out, I decided that I looked pretty good, and that I should've gone a long time ago just to see myself and boost my confidence.

Day 2 (Tuesday)
On Tuesday, the internal systems finally updated with my "preferred name" and new picture, so that people can look me up or email me using Vivi. Partway in to the day, my boss's boss called a random meeting, and brought in Birthday cake for me and my supe, whose birthday was on the 4th.

"Happy Birthday Michelle and D Vivi"

LOL

I was worried about my voice for most of the day, so I kept talking really quietly, and trying not to cough. The bathrooms got easier to use, especially since there was never anyone else in the ones upstairs.

Day 3 (Wednesday)
We had a team meeting early Wednesday morning, which I decided to call in to from the comfort of my pajamas. The whole meeting, I kept thinking about how much I hate my voice, and how the more afraid I am, the worse it sounds. On the drive in to work, I used my phone to repeatedly record and playback my voice, to reassure myself that I don't sound that stupid. Shortly after getting in, a coworker randomly told me that my voice sounded good, and that he didn't recognize me on the call at first, which made me feel a lot better.

A few of the women on my team sometimes take breaks together, to go on walks, or over to the gym, and they invited me. A social activity and forcing myself to work out? Sweet!

I used the bathroom a couple of times without too much anxiety, but I know I'll tense up the moment I finally see someone. Everything else is already starting to settle back in to normalcy. My boss's boss commented on how it was as if everything had changed, and yet nothing was different. I couldn't agree more.

In other news, today is my birthday! After 28 years, I'm finally free to be myself. Oh well, better late than never I suppose. =)

Telling Erin's Family

2010-03-22T02:08:00.009-06:00

"Breathe, keep breathing,
Don't lose, your nerve.

Breathe, keep breathing,

I can't do this, alone."

-- Radiohead, Exit Music (For a Film)

*sigh*

I've been meaning to write for quite a while, as usual. For the same reasons that I really want to write, it's also been hard to find the time.

Between coming out to Erin's dad two weeks ago, planning our wedding, voice classes, planning work transition, and hanging out with old and new friends and family more in the past three months than in the whole previous year, sometimes I'm surprised I find time to breathe. It's good, but it's scary; I'm not used to my life being like this, and I always feel like I'm forgetting something really obvious.

I like to be aware of things. As long as I'm aware of everything, especially my own faults, then I can correct them or decide not to feel stupid about them ahead of time. The current pressure makes me worry that I'm losing awareness of details, like I could have something horrible on my face all day, and not notice. *sigh* C'est la vie.

Where was I? Oh yeah-- Erin's dad and stepmom took the news really well! Erin really loves her dad, so I think keeping this secret has been hard on her. That she loves him is also exactly why we were afraid to tell him. I was so scared that he was going to take it badly, and that I would blame myself.

We went to visit them with the intent to get it over with. When we got there, we skirted around it for a while, trying to find the right situation, which never comes. Suddenly, they started searching around the internets, and saying they wanted to see our FaceySpace profiles.

Me: *sinking feeling, tugging on Erin's arm* "Say something!"
Erin: "So... we came here to tell you something... [my old name] is transgendered."
Dad-in-Law: "Ok, so? Why does that matter?"
Me: "It doesn't really matter, but it was still important that we tell you."
Dad-in-Law: "That makes sense... Listen, I may not agree with it, but as long as Erin's ok with it, it's fine."

The "I may not agree with it" caveat is always weird, but that's for another time. With the way they were going after our FB profiles, I'm pretty sure they knew ahead of time. I find that parents are often more clever than their children give them credit for.

They asked a few questions about it, which is always a good sign of acceptance. With the air cleared, we decided to stay and play a few rounds of Rummikub. Erin slipped back into calling me "she," and by mid-game, her dad picked up on it and started using female pronouns as well. At one point, Erin left the table to use the restroom, and he told me "You know, you can call me Dad." =3

I'm surprised I didn't write about it before, but the rest of Erin's family has been similarly accepting. Her brother was one of the first people we told, and he was actually excited for me. We told her sister last summer, and her mom, stepdad, and other brother in December. The last three even took us out to dinner to celebrate our engagement.

I thought people were supposed to hate their in-laws? If this is a dream, please, don't pinch me.

On Toys and Stereotypes

2010-02-23T21:12:00.003-07:00

"When I grow up,
I'll be stable.
When I grow up,
I'll turn the tables."
-- Garbage, When I Grow Up

The video in the previous post got me thinking about my own childhood.

Listening to other trans women's stories, there are a lot of themes that come up time and time again. One of those is that many knew from a very young age that they were female. That they always wanted to play with dolls. That they hated their genitalia. That they just... knew.

To some extent, I envy those people, because I had no idea.

Some of my earliest memories are of toys, but not dolls. Oh sure, we had a Teddy Ruxpin. I had a stuffed rabbit pillow that I took everywhere for a while. My sisters had gobs of stuffed animals, My Little Ponies, and Cabbage Patch dolls, which were certainly interesting, but I was drawn to something else completely.

I liked Domino Rally, Legos, K'Nex, and Lincoln Logs. I liked to make things, I liked to invent. I liked Intellivisions and computers and Game Boys. I taught myself to program text adventures in qbasic when I was 9, a dot matrix printer is one of my favorite sounds, and I still ask for Lego sets for Christmas and Birthdays.

It took me a long time to realize and accept it, but these things do not mean that I must be male. Sure, for many women-- trans or not-- playing with dolls was an expression of their girlhood, but many other women played with Legos. And they are still women.

I've always had gender issues swirling around in my brain, but as a little kid, I don't think I fully grasped the meanings and consequences of gender, let alone how it would affect me in the years ahead. As I started to realize the implications of the box I'd been placed in, my gut reaction was to prove to myself, and to others, that the boxes didn't exist.

I've spent so much time and energy throughout my life trying to break down stereotypes, trying to show people that gender is not what they think it is, that I couldn't see the forest for the trees. The truth is that nobody fits into the boxes of "male," "female," or "in-between," but that doesn't stop the average person from staking a claim wherever they damn well please. It wasn't until I finally admitted to myself that the boxes do exist, and that I had a right to stake my own claim wherever I wanted, that I saw where I fit in, and where I would be happiest.

Maybe if I had wanted to play with dolls, or wear dresses when I was little, I would've figured it out earlier. In the end though, I think I'm glad that I didn't. I certainly wish I had the opportunity to undo my first puberty, but I know that I would not have been ready to handle this any time before now, and I don't think I would love and appreciate being a woman nearly as much as I do today.

So now I'm curious; what were your favorite toys when you were little?

Transgendered Children on the Dr Oz Show

2010-02-23T21:01:00.003-07:00

The Dr. Oz Show recently aired this segment about trans kids. Thanks for the link, Mel!

(If you're interested, Part 2 is here.)

I'd never heard of Dr. Oz before this, but the show was surprisingly respectful and well done. I usually watch these programs and wince, for fear that the host will make the trans folks look like a sideshow.

What do you think? Is it okay to delay puberty until the child can make a more educated decision? At what age is a child old enough to start irreversible surgeries?

Engaged!

2010-02-12T02:02:00.003-07:00

"But there never seems to be enough time,
To do the things you want to do,
Once you find them.
I've looked around enough to know,
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with."
-- Jim Croce, Time in a Bottle

Today, Erin and I are officially engaged.

I haven't talked much about Erin here in the past, mostly because I didn't feel comfortable putting her on the spot. That sort of thinking is honestly silly, since she agreed without hesitation to stay with me through transition, and has never been ashamed of me. I just tend to feel like she doesn't know what she's gotten herself into, like I have to protect her from the prejudices of the real world, and sometimes I forget that all too often she's the one protecting me.

Four years ago, I saw Erin's profile on MySpace, and was attracted by three things: her gorgeous picture, her nerdiness, and the word "androgyny." I told our mutual friend that I thought Erin was cute, we began talking, and the rest is history.

I won't lie and say that we haven't fought from time to time, or that our relationship has never been rocky, but I believe one major thing has held it together: trust. I have never in my life felt as though I could trust another human as much as I trust her. She has integrity, of a type that I never thought I would find.

Erin was the first person I came out to, about 14 months ago, and though it was hard for her to accept at first, she has always supported me. We've talked about marriage many times over the last few years, but I have a major fear of permanence, and knew that we didn't communicate as well as we should. Over the last year, we've been forced to work together and support eachother in entirely new ways; out of necessity, our communication skills have grown, and we have become closer than ever.

With our relationship becoming stronger every day, I realized that the only excuse I had left was my fear. If there is one thing that my transition has taught me, it's that the things I'm most afraid of can also be the most worthwhile, as long as I'm willing to give them all the effort and energy they deserve.

This realization, along with the fact that we won't be able to legally marry after I change my legal gender, placed an urgency on the subject. A few weeks ago, we again started talking about marriage, about who would propose to who, about how we should go about it. Last week, we made plans to go to the jewelry store together. Later, I found out that Erin had been preparing a romantic proposal with a Ring Pop, to be replaced at a later date, and I almost wish she would have gone through with it; I would've bawled. ;)

Last Saturday, we picked out matching solitaire diamond rings, then held our breath for the next five days, as we waited for them to be assembled. Today, the rings were finally finished, and we "made it official."

As an aside, the person that helped us at Shane Co. was great. Being a transgendered woman, in a "lesbian" relationship, with a low budget, and living in Salt Lake City can be a scary combination sometimes, but he was completely professional. He listened to what we wanted, he gave us options without trying to upsell us, and he never once acted like anything was abnormal or out of place.

The rings are beautiful, simple, and effective. The glint catches my eye from time to time, and makes me smile uncontrollably. We haven't set a date for the wedding yet, but we're discussing it, and it probably won't be that far off. Thanks to everyone who has congratulated us so far, it means a lot to have the support of so many friends and family!

Most of all, thanks Erin, for loving me unconditionally, and wanting to grow old with me as badly as I want to grow old with you.

The Standard Process and Substandard Care

2010-02-05T02:15:00.004-07:00

"One pill makes you larger,
And one pill makes you small,
And the ones that Mother gives you,
Don't do anything at all."
-- Jefferson Airplane, White Rabbit

I've been on hormones for a bit over six months now (wooh-hooh!), and you aren't taking them away from me. Ever. Unless I run out, and my dumb doctor and pharmacy can't coordinate to save their lives. Ugh.

For those that don't know the process, maybe I should start with the basics. Transsexualism is interesting in that it has both psychological and physical sides to it, maybe we'll get in to that more at another time. Decades ago, many tried "curing" it psychologically, which usually turned out badly. Nowadays, it's generally accepted that it's much more healthy to treat the body to match the mind, rather than the other way 'round. Sure, you run a few minor health risks, but a lot less people are killing themselves.

Eventually, the medical community adopted a semi-standard set of treatment guidelines, which are called the WPATH-SOC (World Professional Association for Transgender Heath - Standards of Care), formerly the HBIGDA-SOC (Harry Benjamin International Gender Dysphoria Association - Standards of Care, after a German doctor who did a lot of work to help transsexuals in San Francisco in the 50s and 60s).

The SOC has a lot of good information in it, but the main effect it has is to limit most physical treatment to those who have gone through psychological counseling and received a letter of recommendation for treatment. For hormones, usually a therapist will require three months of counseling before giving you "the letter," and for major surgeries, a year of being "full time" (living as your preferred gender socially, usually including work and/or school).

This makes sense on some levels, because it limits treatment to those who are serious and ready, but it also causes a lot of problems. Some people don't have money for therapy, especially since most insurance companies have specific exclusions for Gender Identity Disorder in their policies. Some people are perfectly well adjusted, and feel they shouldn't be forced to undergo mental therapy for something they've already figured out. Finally, some therapists are just bad, and either ignore the SOC completely, or get a gatekeeper complex and go on power trips, withholding letters and making trans people jump through unnecessary hoops.

Without the SOC, support from the medical community would probably be a lot harder to find, so I think of the Standards as a necessary evil, though it would be great for us to work out a more ideal solution some day.

Personally, I didn't mind starting with some therapy. The cost thing sucks, but my therapist is awesome. Since I am relatively well adjusted, I only went in every couple of weeks until the three month marker, when she gave me the hormones letter, and now once a month.

I took the letter to the endocrinologist she recommended, who first requested blood tests to make sure giving me hormones was safe. She then gave me a prescription for six months, with a plan to do follow up work before renewing at six months.

A couple of weeks before the six month marker, I had an appointment with my doctor, who gave me instructions to:
1. - Get new blood work done.
B. - Leave a message on her answering machine, telling her when to call me so that we could discuss the results.
Three. - Have my pharmacy fax a prescription refill request to her.

By the way, she also mistook me for a FtM at first, asked if I'd had a pap smear done, and received confused looks in response. I'm still not sure what to take away from this one besides a good laugh.

I went to IHC to get my labs done, so that I could at least have that covered by insurance. The next week, I left a message giving the doc a few days of wide open time in which to call back. No call.

I asked my pharmacy to send the refill request, and I left another message with another wide open time frame. No call.

I ran out of pills, so I called my pharmacy to check on the status of the request, to which they replied, "She declined it, because she wants to discuss your labs." SO DO I!

I left a third message, and a few days later she finally called me back, but I missed the call because I'd gotten sick. She leaves a message that says "Have the pharmacy fax over another request, and here's my pager number."

I have the pharmacy send it again, and leave a message on the pager. Two days later, on Saturday of all days, she calls me again. "Your labs look fine, I'll approve the fax request, but I haven't received it." Ok, ok, ok, I know you probably couldn't tell me about the labs in a message because of patient confidentiality and all that, but couldn't you approve the request, and then mail the results to me? That is, if you can't be bothered to do your job and call me.

And what's this about not receiving the fax? I confirm with the pharmacy that they have the right number, they send it a third time, and finally get a response. My spiro is renewed for five months, and my estradiol for one month. Wait, what!? The pharmacy says they'll call the doc to work it out. "Good luck with that!" I say, but by some miracle, they fixed it that evening, and both are now for five months.

I'm still confused as to why five, instead of six, but I don't care anymore. Once this is up, I'm likely finding a new doctor anyway.

Telling Dad

2010-01-08T01:43:00.004-07:00

"'I am not alone, I am not afraid, I am not unhappy,'
These are the words I say to myself, every day,
I am not alone, I am not afraid, I am not unhappy.
Tell me what ritual I should have today.
But I'm not alone,
I've resolved so many things, and set myself free."
-- VNV Nation, Fearless

As most know, I recently came out to my dad, and my two little sisters. I told Dad in person, instead of rewriting the letter. I could pretend this was some brave gesture, facing my fear head on, but my motives were mostly selfish; I told him directly because the reaction I was most afraid of was silence. In the end, I froze, and wasn't the one to actually say the word anyway.

I hardly see my dad, in fact this was probably the first time I'd seen him in two years, despite living just a five mile drive apart. Similar to most of my family, it's not that we don't like eachother, it's just that we aren't that close.

I'd expected to see him on Christmas day, and planned to tell him then, in the face of a few warnings not to. I wasn't about to wait any longer. Dad sometimes makes it difficult to arrange a get-together. When he didn't return my calls, I began paranoid imaginings that he was intentionally avoiding me this time, because he'd already found out; I even conceived a plan of telling him over the phone, to get it over with. When he called apologizing and explaining that his phone wasn't working, we arranged to have dinner together a couple of days later instead, when both Erin and my little sisters would be able to join us.

I knew Caitlyn and Carli (my sisters) would take it well. They're both laid back young teenagers, who make me excited to see who they'll grow up to be. When Dad left the table, I told my sisters, and the three of us began texting back-and-forth about it when he came back. After dinner, I said I had something I needed to tell him, which I followed up with stuttering noises, and quick glances between the wall and table. If I ever go skydiving, I'll definitely need someone to push me out of the plane. Eventually Caitlyn blurted it out for me, and I followed it up with some more specific explaining.

Dad seemed to take it well. He made sure to tell me that he still loves me, and even cracked a few jokes about how he was sorry that the Christmas presents he'd gotten me weren't more feminine. There was probably more going on under the surface, but for now I'm just grateful for the support. We'll worry about the rest later.

The Magic of Hormones

2009-12-18T04:03:00.006-07:00

"And if rain brings winds of change,
Let it rain on us forever.
I have no doubts from what I've seen,
That I have never wanted more."
-- VNV Nation, Solitary

I've been on hormone reassignment therapy (HRT) for about five months now, and I finally decided that I should share what I've experienced as a result. While there are a lot of things hormones can't change, I'm constantly amazed at all the things they can and do change. I currently take two medications, once a day: estrogen, and an anti-androgen, which dramatically slows the effects of testosterone.

Quick and generalized biology lesson:

During the first few weeks of fetal development, humans essentially have the potential to develop as either male or female. Usually, the chromosomes will determine gonad differentiation, which causes hormone differentiation, and the presence or lack of *androgens determines the other primary sex characteristics. (*Andro is a Greek prefix meaning "male" or "masculine"; androgens are "masculine" hormones, including testosterone.) Secondary sex characteristics are mostly caused by estrogens and androgens, respectively, during puberty. HRT mainly only affects the secondary sex characteristics, especially those involving skin, fat deposits, and hair, since these are always changing anyway.

Keep in mind that this is from the perspective of a MTF (Male-to-Female). First, let's start with the things HRT won't do:

HRT won't dramatically change bone structure. Most of the skeletal differences are developed during puberty, though some bones will continue to very slowly change shape or definition over the course of years.
HRT won't change the voice for MTFs (Male-to-Females). Once a voice is "broken", it can't be "unbroken". For FTMs, taking testosterone causes the voice to break, but MTFs simply have to practice their voices, or learn to live with them.
HRT won't significantly affect already developed facial hair; laser hair removal or electrolysis are required for that.

And here are the changes I've noticed since being on hormones:

Within the first few weeks, I got mild hot flashes (mild meaning they weren't painful, but still very strange and obvious). Apparently hot flashes can happen any time there's a quick change of hormones in the body, and some women get them throughout their lives as their natural hormone levels rise and fall. Mine only lasted for a few days, and I haven't noticed any since.
Also within the first few weeks, I noticed that my skin was much softer and more sensitive to the touch. My skin was already pretty sensitive before, but now, Erin loves to run her hands down my back and watch me writhe.
My skin is somewhat thinner and lighter in color, especially on my face. Combined with subtle differences in the fat deposits in my face and cheeks, my face looks a lot more feminine now.
The fat stores on my body have been rearranging themselves. My butt is nearly twice as big as it used to be, I swear.
Within the first month, I was already noticing some chest growth. This has continued slowly, though sometimes in small growth spurts.
Within the first two months, I noticed tiny hairs around the corners of my forehead. Since then, even more dormant follicles have been sprouting all over my head, causing annoying fuzzies that are only about an inch or two long. They stick up all over through the rest of my hair, and I can't do anything with them (though my hair stylist was pretty fascinated).
Body hair growth has slowed down considerably. Some body hair has become lighter and more sparse.
After a couple of weeks, I started getting noticeable headaches off and on. For the most part these have gone away, but I still get mild headaches slightly more than I used to (which was almost never).
My finger nails have become a bit more dry and brittle, though they're still stronger than the nails of a lot of girls I know.
Temperature changes around me are much more noticeable now, both hot and cold. When it's cold, my hands and feet turn into ice sculptures.
Erin says I now "smell sweeter and more feminine", even without any added scents.
Recently I've noticed that when I drink alcohol, I feel the effects more and faster. I've always been a "light weight" drinker, which I've been happy with, because drinks are expensive. =P Unfortunately I also seem to sober up more quickly.
What little upper body strength I had is being slowly but noticeably sapped. I could probably get it back to where it was with a little working out, if I were worried about it.

The psychological effects are harder to define, or pin down as being specifically caused by the HRT, mostly because my mind is already reeling from all the other things going on in my life right now. I'm a skeptic, so I think that most of these can be chalked up to placebo effects, but the below are the mental effects which could be related to HRT. I'll let you make up your own mind:

I seem to move from one emotion to another more quickly, though the range and intensity of my emotions is about the same.
I cry a lot more recently. I think this is mostly because I've been under a lot of stress, and because I've been allowing myself to. I used to cry a lot when I was younger.
If I forget to take my hormones, shortly after the 24 hour mark I get moody, and usually depressed if I'm alone. This happened a few times before I made the connection, but now if I get moody in the evening, it serves as a reminder. This part especially annoys me, because of my control issues.
Extremely cute things sometimes get to me more. A couple of weeks ago, I giggled uncontrollably at a kitten video on YouTube for about 10 minutes. I've always liked cute things, but what really startled me was the intensity of this experience.
Sometimes I feel more "cuddly", with a similar intensity. This one's also tough to describe, but when it really hits me, all I want to do is be as near to Erin as possible.

Trans people report a huge variety of other psychological effects, but the above are really all I've noticed. Whether or not these are mostly caused by the hormones, it's likely that genetics and a predisposed mindset play a pretty big role in shaping those effects.

All of the physical effects I've listed are pretty standard, but I feel lucky to experience them all to some degree so quickly. Judging from what I know of other trans peoples' experiences, I'm responding to the hormones really well. It's especially exciting, because the full effects are supposed to take years, meaning I still have plenty to look forward to. =)

Word Vomit - Halloween, Vacation, Work, and Family

2009-12-15T03:08:00.010-07:00

"You can try the best you can,
If you try the best you can,
The best you can is good enough."
-- Radiohead, Optimistic

I'm long overdue for an update. Most of my friends already know the below, and it's pretty rambly, but I still feel like it's good to get down, if nothing else, for completeness sake. I'll try to rush through most of it, and I'll try to post more often in the future, instead of saving up for massive posts. =)

A couple of entries ago, I mentioned coming out to more people. Since then, I realized that there were still a lot of people that I have to tell personally before I'd feel ok just posting it on Facebook though, like the rest of Erin's family, the rest of my family, and work.

So, a while back we told Erin's mom and stepdad. They took it pretty well, though I still don't think they quite understand what it means to me and Erin. Erin's mom told her parents, and Erin's oldest brother, so now everybody knows except her dad's side of the family. We aren't sure how Erin's dad will react, so we don't plan on telling him soon, which is depressing, but he lives up in Ogden, so I guess it's not too big of a deal for now.

Halloween:
For Halloween I dressed girly (a denim skirt and v-cut shirts), wore kitty ears, a tail, collar, and used eyeliner to paint whiskers on my cheeks. It's similar to what I did last year, but this year I looked quite a bit cuter, which is encouraging. It's so much easier to dress on Halloween, because if I don't pass, people just think I have a really good costume. I ended up going to a small-ish party, and meeting some very sweet and talkative people. Some of the conversations just made me feel like 'one of the girls', which was pretty new to me, and pretty amazing.

Work:
After the breakdown I mentioned in my last post, I also decided that I needed to do something about work, though I wasn't sure what. I met with someone in the HR department to explain my situation: that I'm not ready to transition at work, but that I want to stop worrying about who knows. She suggested that we just set up a time where I can tell everyone in a meeting, which was so simple, yet profound. Unfortunately that was right before Erin and I went on vacation, and I spent the first half of our trip being nervous about the various meetings between HR and my management that were taking place.

Vacation:
Our vacation was a lot of fun. Erin's brother lives near San Francisco, so we drove there, stayed with him for a couple of days, and saw the sights. Next, we drove down to LA, stopping at Erin's grandparents' for dinner on the way. We stayed in a hotel right outside of Disneyland, and played around in the parks for a couple of days. On the third day, we were supposed to drive down to San Diego, but I got pretty sick, so we just moved on to Las Vegas instead. Erin drove to Vegas, even though she hates driving, so that I could get some much needed sleep on the way.

The next day, I was feeling mostly better, so Erin and I trekked on foot down The Strip to Sephora (a makeup store). After that, we watched the Tournament of Kings, which is a medieval themed dinner and jousting show. It was pretty good, though the food was bland, and they kept trying to get more money out of us for souvenirs. Erin was exhausted, so she headed up to the room while I went across the street to lose $40 playing Blackjack at the Tropicana.

The best part about Vegas was that three different people referred to me as female in one day, even though I was in jeans and a t-shirt, with just a touch of eyeliner for makeup:

While we were walking down The Strip, holding hands, a woman tried to usher us into a casino with a "Ladies! Ladies! Welcome to Harrah's!"
At the Tournament, our server kept switching between calling us "Ladies" or "Princesses".
And while I was playing Blackjack, the dealer kept using "she" when talking to other people about how crappy my cards were.

Either I passed as a trans woman, or I passed as a woman. Either way, I was giddy and giggly about it for the whole next day, and I probably annoyed the crap out of Erin. =)

Work again:
On my first day back to work, I had a meeting with my boss's boss (Manager), his boss (Director), and the HR person. Apparently management was completely ready for me to transition at work, but after explaining that they weren't the reason I'm not ready, they both jumped on board with the telling everyone idea, and we planned out the details. A few days later, the Manager asked groups of a few people at a time to meet with me, and after all was said and done I'd explained my situation to about 20-25 people. I felt stupid having the meetings, since it's really a personal thing, but I figure I'll have to tell them eventually, and everyone was very cool about it. Even if I'm not transitioning at work yet, it feels so much better just to stop pretending like this huge part of my life isn't happening whenever I'm at work.

Family:
A couple of days ago, Erin and I went to a Christmas party with my mom's side of the family. I hadn't really had a chance to talk to my mom since I came out to her, and I was planning on coming out to the rest of the family. When I got there, Mom said she'd told nearly everyone, which was a huge relief. She also told me that she felt that I was a girl when she was pregnant, and that she would've named me Alee Ann (funny, since I was considering Allie for a long time, before I decided Viv fit me much better). When people asked how I was doing, it was nice to be able to honestly answer "Great! I'm doing really really well", and I hope they see how much happier I am overall. I kept getting a "curious" vibe from everyone, but Mom and I were the only ones who mentioned it all night, which I suppose is a good thing.

So what's the plan from here? I'm still focusing on coming out to people. I just have to tell my dad ("just" - lol), and his side of the family, and then I will tell all my old friends (if any of them haven't figured it out from my Facebook pics / posts), and "officially" ask everyone to start using the new name and pronouns. From there, I want to work mainly on my voice and clothes. I somehow feel a lot less hurried though, as if I'm just putting my head down and forging ahead, and I feel good.

Self Deprecation: A Daily Routine

2009-11-13T06:12:00.005-07:00

"I can't handle this but I can't handle anything else,
It's my own mistake, it's based on me and not on my groin.
It's the little things in my pants that we're all living for,
I never really knew what that thing down there was used for."
-- Mindless Self Indulgence, Kill the Rock

I've been meaning to write again for a while. I have so many subjects swirling around in my head, but it's so much easier to procrastinate. =P Just a warning: this is a pretty long entry.

A few days ago, I came home after an average day, when suddenly a wave of pressure hit me like a ton of bricks. I remember bawling to Erin for half an hour, all the while repeatedly asking "What am I doing? I feel so crazy. I can't do this! What am I doing?"

Despite the fact that I'd woken her up, she was as sweet as ever, and stayed up to comfort me until I fell asleep sobbing. The last anxiety attack I can remember before this was at least five years ago, back when I was with Bitchface. I sort of thought I'd grown out of them. Turns out I've just had it easy for the last few years. My life honestly isn't that hard right now. I have a lot of great friends, a great job, a wonderful girlfriend, so what hit me so hard that night?

I did.

I try so hard to be strong outwardly, because I want people to be happy for me. I want people to see that this is right for me. I don't want them to see how much self-doubt I always have, or how afraid I am, but I am, and I need to stop bottling so much of that up. I'm not sure how to convey the kind of punishment I put myself through, other than to simply expose my daily thought process, so here goes.

Getting ready for work:
I get up, shower, shave, brush my teeth. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm getting curvier, but I hate my gut. I scrub my face, both to make sure any makeup from the night before is gone, and to help the acne caused by laser treatments and second puberty. Is it better or worse today?

I blowdry my hair, then straighten it. Sometimes I see a glimpse in the mirror of who I feel I am, and I smile. I put on a sports bra to hide my chest, which is just obvious enough that I'm afraid someone might notice, without being obvious enough that anyone actually will. I put on a t-shirt and jeans, and make sure my earrings are the standard studs. Nothing too girly. I kiss Erin goodbye.

At work:
I am Davi. I worry. Does anyone else know? Have they figured it out? If they have, they probably wouldn't say anything, but is that better? They've all seen my Facebook pictures. Do they think I'm a crossdresser? Would being misidentified somehow make it worse?

People tell me how different I look, how they almost don't recognize me. I try to take it as a compliment, but they always look so concerned. People tease me about my lack of strength, my "emo" hair, my earrings. Maybe they're picking up on it unconsciously? Odd how the same teasing from people who know can be comforting. From those who don't it just feels awkward, and reminds me how much people rely on gender, how it seems to ground their worlds. How it grounded mine for so long.

My boss knows, and is fine with it, but I'm not ready to transition at work. I tell her that I don't want to care if people find out, but that I'm afraid of disrupting work. I'm afraid they'll treat me differently. Awkwardly. Can I somehow prepare for people finding out? Could I somehow just tell all of them and get it over with? Am I annoying her with my fears?

Going out:
Who is going to be there? Do they all know? Am I ready to come out to the ones that don't? I'm so sick of hiding, but what does being "out" get me if I'm too afraid to do anything with it? How girly should I look? I don't want to wear dresses and high heels, just cute clothes.

I try on some cute clothes. Do I look like a freak? Do I look fat? Could I pass for a girl? No. Could I pass if my hair were longer? If my clothes fit better? If my makeup were better? If I worked on my voice, instead of being afraid of failure? If the hormones had a few more weeks, or months, or years to work? Will I ever pass? And when?

Is it more important to be me, or to be "normal" today? Am I adopting stereotypes if I dress like a girl? Am I still letting stereotypes control me if I don't?

The spiro makes me feel like I always have to pee. What if I wear girl clothes, and then I need to use a public bathroom? If I'm dressed as a girl, and I use the girl's room, someone could call me a pervert, I could be arrested. If I'm dressed as a girl, and I use the boy's bathroom, someone could call me a faggot, someone could break my jaw. I resign to jeans and a t-shirt, with some simple makeup.

If I don't dress like a girl, and I don't sound like a girl, I feel stupid asking friends to call me a girl. Do my clothes define me? Does my voice define me? Do they think I'm just adopting stereotypes? I feel like I need to prove it to them. That I'm not just asking them to play some crazy game. I don't want them to look odd in front of their friends. I don't want them to have to deal with the same questions I get, without knowing how to answer. They try so hard to call me "she" anyway. They introduce me as V. Do they mind? Do they get sick of this consuming my conversations? Do they think I'm as crazy as I feel?

At home:
I don't need to dress up, but if I do, Erin tells me how good I look. She tells me that I'm beautiful. She uses female pronouns, and refers to me as Vivi, or as her woman. She is my rock. She is so strong, and so giving, and I am putting her under tremendous pressure in return. This was not her fight, but it has become ours. Does she feel as afraid as I do? Am I hurting her just by existing? Have I destroyed the life she had? Can I ever make it up to her? I can try. I can pretend to be strong.

I can bottle this up.

Telling Mom

2009-10-05T04:23:00.010-06:00

"I can’t say that you’re losing me,
But I must be that which I am,
Though I know where this could take me,
No tears, no sympathy."
-- VNV Nation, Epicentre

I've been talking a lot about wanting to come out to my family, and I'm happy to say that I've finally done something about it!

A month or two ago, I found out about National Coming Out Day, which is October 11th. I tend to procrastinate a lot, so I decided that setting that day as my goal was a reasonable way to pressure myself to do what I want to do, and tell more people.

With the day quickly approaching, last week I convinced myself to tell my sister. She was very supportive, and helped me reason through how the rest of my family would actually react, as opposed to the horrible scenarios I'd imagined up. I decided to keep up the momentum, so Saturday night I finally wrote my letter to mom, and gave it to her on Sunday. Here's the letter (which ended up being a lot shorter than my original versions):

"Dear Mom,

For the last year or so, I have been working on some positive changes in my life that I wanted you to know about. What I want to say may be a surprise, and may be difficult to understand at first. I only hope you'll keep an open mind.

I suppose I should get the hardest part over with and tell you, I'm transgendered. This means that while I'm physically male, I don't identify with being male. These feelings have frustrated me throughout my life, but I always assumed, like many people do, that it was just something I had to live with.

About a year ago I started researching the subject more. I found out that Gender Identity Disorder (GID) is a medically recognized condition, with established treatments, and that it's much more common than most people think. After a lot of consideration and soul-searching, I realized that I needed to start being true to myself, and since then I've felt as though a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

[My girlfriend] was the first person I came out to, and she has been extremely patient, accepting, and supportive. Since then I've also come out to my close friends, and so far I haven't received any negative reactions. I feel so lucky to have surrounded myself with such open and accepting people.

There are many levels of treatment for GID, so I've been working since March with a therapist who specializes in gender dysphoria, and I'm taking things one careful step at a time. I'm sure you've noticed that I've pierced my ears, and that I've started growing my hair out. I also took a bigger step recently and started hormone replacement therapy.

I don't want attention, or to be treated any differently, and that's exactly why I'm telling you, so that I can simply be myself. I told [my sister] last week, but none of the other family know yet. I still have no idea how I'm going to tell dad. If you think that any of the other family would be accepting, please feel free to tell them, it would save me a lot of anxiety. Just let me know if and who you tell, so I can keep track. =)

I've come a long way in the last year, but I'm still very near to the beginning of this journey. It took me 26 years to figure this out, and longer to accept it, so I don't expect you to immediately understand it either.

Please, take your time, and ask questions whenever you're ready, even if that time isn't today. For now, I just hope you know that I'm still your child, and you will always be my mom.

Love, [Me]"

Honestly there's not much more to the story than that. She read the letter, nodding her head the whole time. She asked what was going to happen from here, asked my girlfriend if she was ok with it, and told me that she understood that it's just part of who I am.

After we left, I got a bit emotional as relief washed over me, but really the only interesting thing about coming out to mom was how incredibly uneventful it was. It's anticlimactic after how much I'd built this up in my head, but that's definitely a good thing. =) I can only hope that it will be similarly unremarkable when I start telling more people next week.

Seeing Through the Fear

2009-09-22T04:00:00.013-06:00

"And now I think I am alive,
And that I see reality,
But the truth behind my mind,
Is your insecurities"
-- Dub FX, Rude

Fun fact about being trans: I wake up every morning feeling like I must be completely insane.

Maybe I should back up a bit. Stick with me if I wander, please.

I've said before that the reason I like the word "transgender," is that it allows me to continue finding a definition for myself, but this is really only part of the story. While it's true that I don't like to be confined to boxes, the main reason I like the word is that I am absolutely terrified of failure. If labeling myself as transgender has the least specific meaning, then it has the least expectations to live up to.

"Transgender" covers a lot of gender variant groups, most of which I don't identify with, and some of which I don't even understand. It includes crossdressers and transvestites, who often retain some form of identity matching their biological gender, but temporarily take on aspects of another. It includes drag kings and queens, who exaggerate gender cues for fun or entertainment value. It even includes those who like to genderf'ck, mixing cues from both genders in order to break down the social binary.

Though none of the above fit me in any major way, there are other terms that I do identify with, including "transsexual." A transsexual identifies with a different sex / gender than the one they were assigned at birth, and seeks to remedy this by taking steps to change their body to match their mind. Like most things in the trans community, the word transsexual changes its scope and definition depending on who you talk to and when.

Many people want to pin down the meaning of transsexual, and remove it from the transgender grouping, out of fear that the medical community will stop supporting us if they suddenly realize how little GID (Gender Identity Disoder) really follows any rules. Some people want to abandon the term completely, since it seems to imply that this has to do with sex, when in fact there are transmen and transwomen of every sexual orientation. More on these subjects later, I'm sure.

My therapist once asked me as a session was ending, "Would you say you're a woman?"
To which I replied "If I felt free to say anything I wanted, yes."
She told me that I could say anything to her, and I just smiled and left, knowing that's not what I meant, but not knowing how to explain it. What I'd meant was that I was afraid of how the world would look at me if I went around saying how I feel.

This journey has a lot of uncertainty, and though I knew the risks when I began it, this is, without a doubt, the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life. I, who don't do anything without being sure of success, am going through this without knowing how it will turn out. I, who value personal connection and identifying with other people above almost anything else, am risking alienation. I, who have never moved to a better state, out of fear of losing contact with people, am risking burning bridges.

Yet, after waking up every morning with so much self doubt, I still know that this is what's best for me. Why? Because of the excitement I feel with every step forward, that I am finally becoming myself. Because I can see with my analytical mind, that I am not changing myself, I am correcting a wrong. Because I know, though it took me a long time to understand it, that I am female inside.

So please, though I know my body still doesn't fit the part, and it never truly will, forgive me if I call myself a girl. It may sound crazy to you, but it keeps me sane.

Funerals and Family

2009-09-16T04:43:00.007-06:00

"Some of us fall by the wayside,
And some of us soar to the stars,
And some of us sail through our troubles,
And some have to live with the scars"
-- Elton John, Circle of Life

My grandma died last week, and yesterday I went to her funeral.

I've always sort of wondered how well I'll deal with death. My dad's parents both died when I was very young - I barely remember his mother. I think the last funeral I went to before this was for my dad's brother Bill, and that was... almost twenty years ago.

It's odd, because I'm such a mix of both strong emotion and strong logic, plus the fact that I've recently started on hormones, which I'm still getting used to; For the most part I've noticed that my range of emotions is similar to pre-HRT (Hormone Replacement/Reassignment Therapy), but I think I snap from one emotion to another more quickly.

I wasn't that close to my grandma, but I still have a lot of memories of her, and it will definitely be strange for her to be absent when I visit my mom, stepdad, and grandpa. Her health had been failing for quite a while, and her death wasn't unexpected. All things considered, it's curious how little its hit me most of the time, and how much it hit me at others.

I cried when I found out last week, which felt good. I've always thought that crying when you can is a good thing, but I haven't really had any reasons to cry like this in quite a while, and it was relaxing to cry over something I didn't need to try to control. I also cried a lot at the funeral, but I think what's probably hit me more than her death is seeing my family hurting, especially my mom, my grandpa, and my sisters, all of whom I respect tremendously.

I wore a button-up shirt and a tie, which is even weirder now than it used to be. The service was pretty, but it got me thinking about some of the things I'd like for my funeral:

Have it in a church if you must. Talk about how you believe I've moved on to another life if you must (always prefacing with "I believe"), but please leave any other religious comments out. I will always have many friends with greatly varying religious beliefs, and none of them should feel alienated, especially since I'm agnostic and believe we really can't be sure what happens next until we get there.
Don't waste space in a graveyard - just cremate me, and spread my ashes somewhere pretty, unless it's somehow more trouble that way.
Nobody should feel obligated to dress up, and should come in their most comfortable clothes, even if that means ratty jeans or old PJs.
There should constantly be upbeat music! I live nearly every waking moment with music, my death should be no different. Someone at my grandma's funeral sang the Circle of Life, which is a great example of a song that can be upbeat and still respectful. If you can, however, feel free to play anything I listen to.
There should be singing, clapping, cheering, and enjoying eachother's company. Nobody should feel guilty about smiling if my death was a reason for you to come together.
Leave a sign at the door which says "Cry. Nobody will think less of you."

Being at the funeral also made me realize how terrified I am of telling my family that I'm trans. I want them to know, because I want to be open about it, and I think they should hear it first from me.

If friends are the family you choose, then family are the friends you don't choose. I love my family dearly, and they are some of the most intelligent people I know, but we each lead very different lives, and hardly ever see eachother. Even so, seeing them made me realize that I still care a lot about their approval, and that it would still be a pretty big blow if they rejected me. The desire to tell them occupies a lot of my thoughts right now, and I know in my head that I need to just push through, but so close to actually doing it, the fear suddenly paralyzes me.

I decided months ago that the best way to come out to them is by giving them a letter to read in person, and waiting around to answer any questions, but every time I try to write the letter, it comes out wrong. *sigh* Oh well, I'll get there eventually.

Control Issues

2009-08-26T23:30:00.010-06:00

"All the people slip away,
Despite connections I have formed.
In my struggle to be human,
I feel more and more deformed."
-- System Syn, Beneath the Sand

I've escaped my shackles only to find myself in a larger cage.

I'm supposed to feel less anxious, damnit!

It's been almost a year since I put the pieces together and realized what they meant. Eight months since I told anyone else. Seven months since I started doing something about it, and since then I have done a lot.

I tell myself that these are relatively short time periods, and I am honestly very proud of myself for continuing to do what I know is right for me. I feel elated with the progress I've made, and that's exactly the problem.

I am finally allowing myself to be me, to show off my true self, and I like it, but there are so many people that still don't know. The difference between those that know and those that don't is a quickly widening chasm, and I miss the people on the other side. Hanging out with people that don't know means suppressing all the things I've discovered whenever I'm around them, and it hurts. I am so terrified of who I will lose if I tell them and they don't understand. It's easy to say "Those that don't understand aren't really my friends," but let's admit it, this is a pretty strange subject, and I really can't expect everyone to understand immediately.

I want to show off to the world, and the fact that I don't feel comfortable doing so makes me feel so dirty. Despite what I know in my head, in my heart I feel like it must be a bad thing or I would be willing to tell people. Everyone I've told has been very understanding, but I don't kid myself, they've been understanding because I've only told the people that I knew would be. I hate keeping this secret, when I should be rejoicing in finding myself. I know that I care too much what people think, but that is a part of me just as much as being trans is.

Sometimes I wonder if I've really accepted myself. The answer is obviously "no," but that's because I hardly accept anything about myself. I think I have accepted this as much as I accept anything else in myself. I never wanted to be trans, I want to be me, and those two facts took a long time to reconcile, but I have. Accepting being trans and accepting that some people will reject me for it are two different things, however, and the latter will probably take much longer.

I just told a good friend the basics of why I'm frustrated, and he told me "There's only so much one can control in one's life, and controlling one thing, sometimes means you have to give up control of something else." This is so amazingly wise. As evidenced in previous posts, I'm a control freak, and what I'm really terrified of is not being able to control peoples' reactions. I will eventually learn to let go. I will eventually tell everyone, and in the mean time, at least I have friends like this.

The Story so Far

2009-08-02T04:22:00.018-06:00

"When everything is going wrong,
And you can't see the point in going on,
Nothing in life is set in stone,
There's nothing that can't be turned around."
-- Garbage, Androgyny

Hi! I'm 27 years old, I live in Utah, my favorite color is blue, and I am transgendered.

To give you the basics, I was born physically male, and while I don't think that I truly identify with either "traditional" gender role, I feel more female than male internally. I will not ask you to agree with this. All I ask is that you keep an open mind and make as few assumptions as possible, and I will gladly answer any questions you have. Questions, as I've really learned in the past few months, can be a great sign that people care.

The word transgender changes meaning depending on who you talk to and when. The most common definition right now is that it encompasses anyone whose gender identity doesn't fit their physical sex, or doesn't fit the social "norms." There are more specific terms, but I'm still trying to define myself before I apply a more specific label that already has a definition.

For me, being transgendered basically means that I feel I have a feminine side which I've been stigmatized into repressing for most of my life. I am sick of repressing it, and I want to be free to express both the "male" and "female" aspects of my personality. So far this means hanging out with accepting people who don't care if I am not a macho person. It means not trying so hard to keep myself from seeming "girly," and just going with the flow. It means standing up for myself when I get made fun of because I think something is "pretty," or because I talk with my hands, or because I cry at a good movie. It also means taking slow but continuous steps to express myself through my appearance.

To give a little backstory, these feelings have been in the back of my head for most of my life. I am a very anxious person, and in my teens I had a breakdown because of it. I had to learn to let things go in order to even leave the house, and since then I've tried (not always successfully) to put things in either a category of "deal with it" or "do something about it." Whenever I thought about gender, the thoughts felt unrealistic, or even insane, and I would relegate them to the "deal with it" box. As anyone who really knows me can tell you, gender has always been a touchy subject for me, and these suppressed feelings were probably a big reason for that. Only years later in life, when I was in an emotionally stable place where I could really put everything in perspective, did these feelings really click into place and begin to make sense.

I first came out to my girlfriend in late 2008, and I was terrified. We had been together for a little over three years, and I know that she is a really open person, but I was still very much in a place where I felt crazy, and where I thought anyone I told would feel the same. It's been difficult for her, especially when she was struggling to understand something I didn't fully understand myself, but she has always been accepting.
In January of 2009 I started laser hair removal on my face. In March I started seeing a psychologist who specializes in "gender issues," and came out to a couple of close friends. I also got my ears pierced and started growing my hair out.

As I came out to people, I realized that keeping this secret made it feel like a bad thing, even though I was finally doing something for myself. Telling people is terrifying, but everyone I've told so far has been extremely supportive, and after telling someone I feel so much better.

At this point we've told about 20 people, though not any of my family yet, so telling them is probably the next terrifying step. I want to be "out," but I also need time to deal with things myself so that I can be confident enough when I finally tell someone who doesn't take it well, so I'm taking things one step at a time.

In mid-July I took the biggest step so far and started hormone replacement therapy (HRT). We went out to dinner with a bunch of friends to celebrate. Whether they "get" what this means to me or not, they're willing to be excited just because they know I am, which is amazing.

I've come a long way in under a year, and though I've still got much farther to go, I feel much better about myself just for starting this journey.

Many people will not understand, but that's ok, as long as they're willing to listen. In the mean time, I hope everyone who supports me knows how much I appreciate it, and how much more confident I get with every hug, every compliment, and every question.

Overcoming Scriptophobia

2009-06-15T23:38:00.009-06:00

"Paranoia strikes deep,
Into your life it will creep."
-- Buffalo Springfield, For What It's Worth

I often have a difficult time writing, because I write for an audience. In the same way that I have a hard time jogging just to jog, rather than to get somewhere, I have a hard time writing without a purpose. An audience fills that purpose, even an audience of one, but being the analytical and overthinking person that I am, I constantly wonder what a person who reads this will think.

I will erase, re-write, erase, re-write, and pore over the words for hours on end. More often than not, this ends in me permanently erasing the whole work.

Another issue is that as a cynical person, I am always certain that the reader is judging me. While I have no problem being judged by someone who knows "the whole story," I am terrified of being judged based on small pieces of information, so I often tell stories backwards. As I write a paragraph, I remember a facet of another story that would put this one in a better light, or make it more easily understood, and I begin writing its prequel.

I need to write this down, so please excuse me, while I attempt to deviate and leave the words in place long enough for you to read them, or at least for me to believe you have. It's difficult, it probably won't work, but I have to try.