Memories 2015 from October to December

Going through from March of 2014 when I went full time to March of 2015 was a hiatus. Things were good at home, but it was a kind of truce. We both knew that once I was eligible for surgery things could change radically.

There wasn’t much question in my mind that I wanted the surgery. I had been ok for a while with my “boy parts” but they were seeming more alien and causing me more dysphoria. I suspect I could have gone awhile longer. I was very concerned that given possible wait times that I could go from a moderate disdain to something more severe in the intervening time.

When it came down to it, getting SRS was about my female identity primarily. Sad to say it also means people don’t think you’re “playing” at being a girl then. It’s a mixed bag. There’s no question that going through with something as invasive as SRS requires a lot of thought, but also that the recuperation and the lack of guarantees about remaining orgasmic means that you have to be serious enough to deal with the down side.

As previously mentioned, I moved in the beginning of September 2015. Between then and my surgery date on November 9th I had to completely set up the apartment. The one thing I didn’t want to do was to come back from Philly and find things half unpacked and not setup so I could just rest and recuperate.

As October waned and the date loomed larger I was understandably nervous. It just isn’t that light a deal. Between SRS and breast augmentation I was out for eight hours in the OR. Having general anesthesia for that long takes its own  toll.

I arrive in Philly just the day before surgery. Dr Leis came by and did a quick once over the night before.

I was up at some silly hour, maybe 5am? I took my stuff with me – the hotel was for just that first night. He and the med student with him and I had a nice conversation getting down to the hospital. Once there we split up, I went off for pre op, and I didn’t see them for a bit.

I changed out of my clothing and into those ridiculous hospital gowns. They gave me two so I could put one on forward and one backward. I was taken down to preop proper. I met the anesthesiologist who started some IVs for the meds and had a last talk with the surgeon.

I got very emotional, sobbing. I can’t remember exactly how but I ended up hugging Michelle, the student there. She and I chatted for a few seconds and I calmed down. The anesthesiologist was a bit alarmed but I assured him I was fine, the whole thing was just such a big deal.

We went into the OR, me on my gurney. I helped get myself transferred over on the operating table. I think I might have had another twenty seconds before the lights went out. They don’t do the counting thing anymore.

I woke transferred to my hospital room, a little uncomfortable but much less than I had feared. The nurses and most of the staff was fantastic, but one poor orderly seemed kinda freaked out. Ah well. I was in the hospital for several days.

My release day came and my sister and brother in law drove me first to the surgeon’s office and then to the hotel. The one time I had real pain during that time was in the car. Sitting upright in a car puts pressure on some very sensitive stuff!

I spent another ten days in Philly. The surgeon came by the hotel almost every day to check things out, and my sister stayed around for long enough so that I could do a bit for myself. The worst thing about the other five days was being alone in a strange city. There’s something terribly vulnerable about having nobody close to you around.

Well, I got packed and got a cab to the airport. I had arranged wheelchair service, which was a very good thing. Even two weeks after surgery I was very weak and had no energy. They got me to the plane, but, and this is crazy, I still had to get up and walk through security. Just ridiculous.

I arrived home and our friend R picked me up at the airport and drove me home. He and my spouse got me up to my apartment using a transport chair and I settled into bed, very glad to not be moving.

That first week home was tough, but my spouse had arranged for some folks from our temple to come by. I saw about one person a day and that really helped. Being surrounded  by my own place and having options for entertainment also helped.

I was home for another six weeks. After the first week I could do a short errand such as going to the pharmacy or going shopping for a few items. Later in December I went to a work holiday party and when I came home after those two hours I was totally wiped.

I went back to work in January, but it took another two months to work back up to an eight hour day.


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