Post SRS thoughts and reflections

It’s still hitting me in waves, that my penis is gone. I get “feelings” of it itching or some other such. Like when I go to the loo, I find my self occasionally reaching down to “aim” it at the bowl. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret doing this at all. Its just after 38 years of things being a certain way I am having to readjust to things.

I find it rather pleasant that for the first time in my life I can look at my body naked in front of a mirror and not feel disgusted or unhappy with it. There is a sense of harmony I feel now that I never had before.

More then anything I no-longer feel fractured. I have started to mine the vein that was/is the DID (or MPD) part of me. I feel now more then ever I can dare to tread on that ground. I have seen images I want to depict in my art that stem from that part of myself, that I never thought of.

As much as anything this has been a very healing experience for me.

Yes I know when I return home things will be pretty much as they have been. People will still look on me with disdain, rejection and disgust. To them all I can say is, “tough shit. This is my life, and if you don’t like it then you need not be a part of it.”

Transition has come with a price, but it has not been as costly as the price I would have paid had I not gone ahead with this. In the end the gains out weigh the loses. So I am lucky.

To all of those who have stuck by me I say thank you. To those who have not, well there is nothing to say.

I find it interesting, as a child I remember first praying (as I was raised catholic) to god, then latter holding my teddy-bear and wishing on a star; that I could go to sleep one day, and wake up with my penis gone and as a girl. Here I am thirty years, two failed marriages, one child, and several failed careers later. I went to sleep one day with my penis, and I woke-up later with it gone. It was almost like I thought as a child, you go to sleep and wake-up, and its all better. I just missed on minor detail in the my thoughts as a child.

It hurt.

The pain has eased as of late, and I know that in time the memory of it will fade. I don’t know if I want the memory of the physical pain I have felt to fade. For it is this physical pain that has helped to remove the mental and emotional pain I have endured for so many years. I do not wish to forget from whence I came.

This pain has brought with it a clarity of a magnitude I have never experienced before. I have learned things about myself that most never will learn about themselves. I do not see this as making me better then anyone else, just more self aware than I ever had been.

Trying to look in to myself was like looking into a shattered mirror. I could only see in fragments. With time I had managed to piece some of the mirror back together, but the image was still fragmented and unclear. Today I find I am standing in front of a mirror, both in my head and in the physical world. I can look on myself for the first time as a whole person. I am not confronted by a piece of my anatomy that does not fit what I see in my mind. For years I avoided looking into a mirror because the disconnect between my mind and my eyes was to great, and the fracturing increased. Now I find myself able to look upon my body, and I feel whole and at peace with the ascetics.

I joked when I came out that my transition and my body was going to be my art. Now more then ever I feel on some level I was right. Though this work may be something of a private nature, it is something I created. Like all the great masters I enlisted craftsmen and artisans to aid me in the areas I lacked knowledge or expertise in. However like them the final piece is nothing short of a work of art. An image which stemmed from the depths of my inner being, and was put forth through sheer desire and drive.

I am One at last. I feel whole. There is a unity within that I had long forgot existed. I am Me. There is no longer the We or Us there once was. I guess all I needed was to be able to look naked in a mirror and no longer have the disconnect. I tried in the past, but the disconnect was always there. My mind knew the truth of who I was, it was my body that maintained the damnable lie. Now that lie resides not within me, but stuffed in a baggy in wait for its final resting place.

I’ve come to realize one of the reasons I am so happy with the way my transition has progressed is as I see it I set the bar high for myself. By this I mean my personal benchmarks and definition of what certain aspects of transition were to be met were higher standards than what most view for themselves. I know a lot of transfolk that complain that their transition is going to slow, or their therapist is “holding them back.”

It took me almost a year to accept when my therapist had told me he viewed me as being full time. I had it in my head that I achieved full time nearly seven months after he did. Yes I was in school full time as Darcie, yes my life outside school was spent as Darcie, and yes my pay checks were in the name of Darcie. However I did not present at work, I had shaved my head bald (as I use to have a mohawk that was bleached out and coloured.) I did not wear my wig there nor did I wear make-up. So how could I consider myself full time. There was still one area of my life I did not go out of my way to present female in. It took time for the words of my therapist to sink in, that in all reality the job I had there was no way any woman would have done any of those things anyway in the job I had. It was not conducive to getting dolled up for.

By the next year I had accepted his time-line but I has still proceeding slowly. It would not be for another two years that I would have SRS done. Yes there was a possibility that I could have had my SRS earlier, but I was not ready, I had not experienced that area of my life well enough or something. I did not know it till now, but had I gone ahead with SRS then instead of now, I would have missed out on really getting to know the person I am. Not the guy I was or the chick I am, but the person, void of any gender stereotypes, or ill-conceived notions of how I should be. I spent the last three years living and learning just who this Darcie person is.

I guess I see this experience like fine chocolate; one has a taste of it and wants to scarf it down, because it tastes so damn good. However if one takes their time and savors it they realize just how special it is.

I guess what I am trying to say is don’t rush things take some time and get to know who you are as a person. Transition is a time to get to know who you are, not as a man or woman, but as a person, and by ramrodding one’s way through you may just find you lost out on something very special.

Yes transition has more then its fair share of shit moments, but you get through them, and in the end you find you are a better person because of it. You are more of yourself.

I am not perfect, I am not a “10” nor will I ever be, but then again how many women are? In the end I’m okay looking, and I am happy with myself finally.

Bangkok Log part 7

After getting out of the hospital last week I have been going to see the doctor on Monday Wednesday and Friday. On Friday he started me on dilation, and it went better then I had hoped. I continued dilation over the weekend without any problems. It never hurt, stung or caused me discomfort.

Monday when I returned for my check-up they increased the size of the dilator on me, it still did not cause any discomfort. When the doctor came in to look me over he informed me he was not happy with the fact an area on my labia minora while healed had remained a different colour (red, two different shades of red actually.) I had noticed this earlier, but it didn’t bother me, it was sort of nice having some part of my skin having some colour other then pale as hell. Besides I saw it as a birthmark of sorts, that and there are only two people that will ever see it; me and Helen, and neither of us were bothered by it. He told me he was going to do a skin graft that same day after 1:30pm as he didn’t like the look. Being an artist i can understand his mentality. It is his name on the work and he has his thoughts on what it should be, and he wants the best possible results.

So at 1:30pm I was back in the operating-room, by 2:00pm I was out cold, and by 3:00pm I was waking up in the recovery-room. I felt dizzy and disoriented but not like the last time. I managed to eat dinner without throwing up this time as well.

Last night I saw the area after the graft, its swollen again, but pale, like the rest of me. I find I’m sore and having difficulty walking again, I got knocked back a few days on the mobility and stamina I had been developing, but with a bit of luck I can make up the lost ground soon.

Hell of a way to celibate my 26 month anniversary with Helen. Laying in bed sore, drained and feeling like I’m going to toss my cookies after getting my muff modified.

I’ve been off dilation since the graft, and I’m not sure how long before I start again. In the end, as long as everything heals and looks good, depth was not my driving factor (though it is nice to know that I have something on the order of 5” to 5.5”.)

Tomorrow I go back to see the doctor once again, he’ll take a look at the graft, decide if I can return to dilation or not. The return flight is going to be a joy, nothing says whore like a pink silk handbag with 4 dildos, 4 boxes of condoms, a couple tubes of lube and hand sanitizer.

Well I should try and get some sleep, I have to be up tomorrow to get to the doctor’s by 8:30am. Four times we have taken a taxi from our hostel to his clinic, four different drivers, four different routes we have taken, and four different prices. I wonder if tomorrow will be a fifth. Only one way to find out.

Cheers all

Bangkok log part 6

Today I am a week post-op, the swelling has subsided considerably. I had my check-up at the doctor’s clinic today at 8:30am. Everything is going very well he said, and his assistant said I was doing a really good job with the cleaning myself. All things what they are I’m staying 30 to 40 minutes away from the doctor’s clinic and I don’t see him every day like his other patients, so I feel I need to be extra diligent in my duties. The stitching and swelling are still not as good as he would like and dilation did not start today, he said he would re-check on Friday to see about dilation. As I have said all along depth is really not my biggest goal from SRS. That said I am curious how much depth I did get. I know the longer I wait to start dilation the less depth I will have but that is nothing I’m all to worried about. I have the woman I Love, and sex is not the driving factor in our relationship.

On the way to the clinic today we drove over a low bridge in the city near a temple, and I saw a crocodile swimming in the river. This was right in the city, it really amazes me how large this city is, how many people are in it, and the extent of the wild-life running, flying, swimming or hanging around in it there is. Helen and I really enjoy sitting outside at night listening to the frogs that reside just off the patio in a rainwater pond. The rain here is something, when the sky cuts lose it really rains hard. I have always loved the sound of the rain so this is quite nice to listen to for me.

I have cut my pain medication by more then half and I hope to continue to do so. I plan to keep a few for the trip home on the off chance the pain becomes to much. With any luck by June I’ll be completely off the pain medication. I hate taking pills. Speaking of pills, I no longer need to take spiro, and from the sounds of it my estrogen is going to be cut down to 1mg a day. As I am no longer fighting against the testosterone factory. I’m off the estrogen till June 7^th, and when I get back I’ll look into a pill-splitter, as all I have are 2mg pills.

While at the clinic Tami took Helen and I to a place called Big C, its like a Super K-Mart, in that it has food and a bunch of other stuff. We picked up a few things for the next couple of days; snacks, water, a beer for Helen and some donuts. The donuts I got are nice and mildly sweet. If I would have got them back in Toledo they would have been so damn sugary they would have hurt my teeth to eat them.

I have to admit that while I do really like it here, I am looking forward to getting back home. I want to start getting things together to help Helen get her surgery, and get things sorted out for her to come to the States where we will build a life together.

I miss my daughter, and not a day has passed here that I do not think about her. She really wanted to come with Helen and I here. She is a really good kid, and I got really lucky with her.

Its Thursday and today is our day to take things easy. I don’t need to go to the clinic and we have food for a few days. We went down to the kitchen and Helen made us both some soup. It was nice to just sit with her she is so calm here I really like this. I do hope when we live together she is half as relaxed. I Love her so much. This whole trip she has been my friend, Love, caregiver, and encourager. I don’t think I would be nearly as active were it not for her.

We also started laundry (got to love it vacation in Thailand and I’m doing washing and enjoying myself) and I had to wash my lose fitting pants. So I decided to try to get into a pair of jeans. Much to my surprise they fit, and were not uncomfortable. I recently noticed one thing though; they really do fit me differently on the front. I never thought about that.

I cut myself down on the pain medication today, I’m down from 4000mg of Tylenol a day to 1500mg a day. The discomfort is tolerable to me, though I do feel it more. I’m sure this is the only way to move past it.

I’m managing to get up and down stair a bit more now. Though it is a single flight it is still an improvement over where I have been. I am in no way near the 48 to 52 flights of stairs I was at before I had the surgery, but I will get there.

With any luck my next visit to the doctor’s clinic I’ll be starting dilation. This makes me nervous. For one its going to hurt like hell (from what I’ve heard). For another I’ll find out what I have as far as depth goes (I am curious). The thing that is nagging at me most is I don’t know what it will “feel” like outside of that. Will I react in a positive way or a negative way? Will I tense up and try to avoid penetration, will it feel more natural and I’ll be able to relax, will it be some blend of the two, or a yet unforeseen reaction. There i only one way to find out.

Bangkok log part 5

Okay, I’ve been popping pills to long I realized this morning when I took all seven pills at one time (5 horse pill size, 1 the size of a large aspirin and 1 small one). This really struck me as three years ago I was gagging on taking 25mg of spiro.

Also today I managed to walk with Helen about 2 or 3 km to the Tesco Lotus Express (turns out there is one closer, but we didn’t know). While there we got a few bits we needed for the next few days. I’m sleeping from about two or three in the afternoon till about eleven at night here, which is going to suck for the return flight. As it leaves here at about eleven at night.

Helen and I are thinking of going to either the Temple of the Emerald Buddha or the the Temple of the Reclining Buddha. Both sound quite interesting and we hope to see at least one of them before we leave.

Helen ordered lunch today and asked them to make it spicy, and there was some confusion apparently. She meant she wanted hers to be spicy mine was hot and spicy yesterday, and quite yummy. Instead hers was as it was the day before, and I took one bite of mine and it was noticeably hotter then the day before (damn, that was good). I ate most of it sweating the whole time. It was like mainlining Da’Bomb Ground Zero. It burned so good. I loves me some hot food.

To think staying here at the Bansabai was not part of our plans. Originally I was told our hotel stay was included in the price, but with the US dollar tanking he could no longer provide that service in the package. So while in the hospital Helen and I started looking for some place to stay, and we found this for 800 Baht a night or for under $27 US. Helen and I hope to come back to Bangkok for a vacation one day (non surgery related) and this place is a place we would love to stay at again.

We were told to plan on having 1000 Baht a day to live off of (not including our lodging cost)each, but Helen and I are finding that is god money. The two of us have found we can live really well of 500 Baht (not each, but for us together). It would be nice to have more, but damn this is nice.

So here is Darcie’s recommendations for a trip to Bangkok;

1. find a nice hostel 800 Baht a night will get you a really nice room

2. pack light weight, loose clothing ( flowing skirts, khaki pants, white button down shirts, and tank tops are good as well) for those more of my mentality I might recommend going to your local army surplus shop and getting some East German fatigues (they run me like $4 a pair)

3. they recommend insect repellent of at least 50% DEET, I have yet to use mine

4. Sunblock is a good idea (go with a high one)

5. I’m finding sandals are nice (though I did bring my shit kickers too)

6. Bring some of your favorite snacks as you may not be able to find them here

7. Sunglasses (damn is the sun bright here)

8. Something to keep a journal in (I love my laptop for just this reason)

9. A camera is a good idea as well (just no picture taking of Buddha)

I would also recommend bringing an open mind.

Here are a few things I have learned about the culture here

1. The people here love their King (hell the graffiti here says “Long Live The King” and there are images of him everywhere)

2. Buddha shrines are everywhere, large and small and Buddha is in all of them

3. Don’t be pissy and angry, anger here is seen as being undisciplined. If you smile and are patient things seem to work out

4. Honesty and integrity are big here Karma is real here

There is something to be said for at least these last two points (this from someone that has come to view their disdain for others as a point of pride). Shit I think I’m starting to mellow.

Alright silly time

Yesterday Helen was looking through our bags to get stuff together and she looked up at me and said.”Where are your testicles?”

I started laughing over this as I actually had to stop and think for a second. They were no longer in the usual place they had been for the last 38 years. Funny thing is they are in a sack (bag) still. Only now they are in the mini fridge, rather then dangling between my legs. I really don’t miss that feeling at all. Though to be honest it has been different not feeling them there any more. Yet the notion that was a feeling I once knew seems almost foreign to me. I wonder what this thought will be like in a year or ten.

For once in my life I feel at peace with myself. I don’t want to lose this feeling. I guess by writing this all down I stand a better change of not losing touch with it.

I’m going to go try to shave my legs (its been too long for me)

Bangkok log part 4

It is now 3am on the 12^th of May here in Bangkok. Helen and I are in our room at the Bansabai hostel. The room is quite nice the first thing that I noticed when we got to the room was the floor. It is covered with 2′x2′ white marble, and furnished quite nicely. There is a self-serve kitchen, climbing-wall and meeting room on the second floor as well as a gorgeous patio area. The roof is a walking garden, with birdbaths and a swimming pool. The food from room service is very good and for a meal that I have paid easily more then $10 to $15 back home for, I pay 50 Baht or about $1.66 not to mention its way hotter and spicier.

So far after the catheter was removed I have had no trouble urinating, I have managed to go three times today. Threaten to stick that catheter back in me will you. I have my trusty donut pillow with me and from what I know it will be my friend for a month or two (maybe longer). I was given a little pink silk bag and it is no ordinary handbag. Inside is my dilator kit and a few other bits.

So far as near as I can tell the surgery was as planned, I have seen photos of just after the bandages came off other women, and mine is much the same, and I am so glad I saw those photos. If I had not I may have freaked out. It looks like a rotten apple with a walnut shoved in the middle. I know from talking with the doctor before and the photos this is due to swelling. I also know that within a week or two things will improve. Honestly I can’t wait.

My strength and stamina are returning slowly but returning none the less. I hope soon to be able to be up and about in a more “normal” fashion, and return to a more active lifestyle.

According to the papers I have been given by the doctors office once the “wounds” heal enough four to six weeks after surgery one can engage in sexual intercourse. For me it will be more like four to six months. As that will be when I am with Helen once again.

As of the writing of this where the adhesive from the bandages was on my skin it is still very red and itchy. For me this is normal, as I have very sensitive skin and m allergic to a number of adhesives.

Yesterday I went to see Dr. Pichet for my check up, so far all is well with that. Dilation with any luck will start on Wednesday. It is all based on when the swelling goes down a bit more. After my check up and cleaning Helen and I got online for a bit at the Doctor’s office. It was while there we met two other ladies whom had recently had surgery by him. Interesting bit one was from the USA and one from the UK. Both were very nice Tami was from the Portland area, which was actually a bonus to me as I am thinking about moving out that way in the near future. Andrea from the UK was chatting with Helen, while I asked Tami a few questions about what to expect over the next few weeks, and months. She was quite helpful and like her I too am finding the donut pillow to be my new best friend (though I can’t wait till I no longer need the thing).

Tonight Helen and I walked down to a small corner store for a few bits. This was by far the furthest I have managed to walk yet, and I felt so good I did it. I for one dislike being reliant on others and helpless.

The pain I feel is quite a bit reduced from a few days ago. I have been taking 1000 mg of Tylenol 4 times a day witch after taking with the other two ladies is Jack shit in the realm of pain medication when compared to what they are and were taking. I’m talking serious doses of vicidin and morphine. I guess I’m doing well there then if this is all I need at this point, and I am feeling like I’m past the high pain point.

Looking back on the experiences I have had in these last few years I realize I made a huge mistake when I said that I would not wish being transsexual on anyone. The level of self realization and understanding I have come to has been greater then I could have expected. Not to mention I don’t think I would have ever come to Thailand. There is a profound sense of centering I have gained from here. The chaos of Bangkok itself has really lent itself to the notion of order and disorder not just coexisting, but having an integral reliance on each other. The segregation and class structure that exists in the western world is not just pointless but self destructive.

Over these last years I have grown to love myself for who I am, and I would not trade this life for one less troubled. I am a self made person, and I am very proud of who I am. Of everything I had hoped this trip to be for me this was not anything I had expected. People who know me know I was looking forward to the day I would have my surgery, and that it would just be another step in my life. It was not anything that I thought would lend itself to some profound impact on my life, but I feel so much more then that. I have come to understand myself in ways most people will never get to experience. I think about those I know back home in Toledo who look down on me, and I know find myself wondering if their disdain is more a self loathing and jealousy. I know at least a few well enough to know they have not taken time to get to know themselves, let alone have any nerve to chase their dreams. I have, and do. My dreams are all I have in this life.

I know this surgery was just another step in my life, and it is far from the end of my transition. For life is a series of trans-formative events and this was one of them for me. I am in no way saying gender surgery or sexual transition is something for everyone, but following a dream and seeing the other side of a dream is something wonderful, and a true joy not to be missed.

I often wondered if chasing this dream would be the death of another dream, my dream of being an artist. I may be fucked out of my master’s for now. However the insight I have gained from my experience is going to and has already fueled my inspiration. Much as my self-loathing and disdain fueled my art in the past.

I found my soul, and when I heal it will be time to use it in ways that I never thought to. Please, please people have a dream and don’t just chase it, follow it willingly to where it leads.

Bangkok log part 3

Today as the ninja nurses were washing me they noticed a small portion of my bandages had pulled away. They called in a doctor to take a look at it and it turns out the bandages used contain the dreaded adhesive that I am allergic to. Which would explain the itching I have been feeling for a while now. Dr. Pichet will be by in a few hours so I just need to hold out till then.

Dr. Pichet was here to see me a bit ago, the bandages will come off tomorrow. If this last time I tried to walk is any indication, I will have no problems peeing. As I felt like I had to pee so much it would blow the catheter out.

It’s now Sunday at 6:20am, this is it, the day the bandages come off. I can’t wait. Last night the nurse gave me some sleeping pills. No idea what they were, but damn they knocked my ass out. I should be getting pill time soon and breakfast as well. I’ve never been one to eat a lot, and being here is no exception.

It is now 10am Bangkok time, and at this point the bandages have not yet been removed, however I feel I should say a little about my over all impression as well as my choice to to to Dr. Pichet.

For many years, starting in 1999 I had started looking in to various doctors to have this surgery preformed by. I know that seems a long time considering I went full time in 2005, despite understanding fully in 1982 that I was in fact transsexual. Over the course of the years I have read many testimonials, individual web-pages, and blogs on various doctors. By 2006 I was down to just a handful of surgeons, and began to sort out what it was in the end that was to be important to me. I was told there are three primary aspects to consider with srs (grs if you prefer); depth, ascetics, ans sensitivity. There is a fourth but people have told me it should not matter as this is a big deal, and price is not that important. As a person that live on jack shit, I can tell you price does matter. I for one am not about to whore myself out in any way to have had some sugar-daddy pay for this. This is for me, and me alone. It is something I wanted for myself, and I for one am no cum dumpster nor am I someone that has any desire to be kept. Yes I had a good job once that would have afforded me to spend more on this but that was in another life.

I came to the conclusion the American and Canadian doctors though good were going to remain to expensive and thus out of the running. So I turned to the list of over seas doctors. I sent emails out asking each a few questions, explaining my situation and that surgery was some point in the future, but not right away. I also asked if I could see photos of their work, if that was okay. I do understand this is a very personal and private undertaking. Each doctor was happy to oblige me and sent images and such, however Dr. Pichet was the only one who saw fit to send photos in series, from when the bandages came off, 1 week later, 2 weeks later, 6 months later, and a year later. This honesty and desire for me to understand the different stages of healing and his honesty in explaining the factors that can limit the over all out come really impressed me, and I began to focus more on him as my choice. I read some reviews that spoke of dissatisfaction with his work, mostly revolving around depth. However people spoke of his staff being nice, and Dr. Pichet as someone that really cared.

I had a few more email exchanges with him and by September of 2007 I was settled and booked my surgery with him for May the 7^th of 2008, as by that time I would be out of school for the summer.

On May 4^th I boarded the plane and the familiar. When I arrived on the 6^th of May I met Dr. Pichet for the first time at his office. He told me more about the surgery and went over a slide presentation of the surgery and healing. My last two entries contain some details about the days, so I won’t get in to them.

So at this point without seeing the end results and just my interactions with Dr. Pichet and his staff I would more then willingly recommend him to anyone for surgery. As of writing this Helen and I have been talking about trying to sort things out for her to come here to Dr. Pichet in the near future for surgery. Hell if that’s not a recommendation, even my girlfriend is now looking seriously in to coming to see Dr. Pichet.

That said I still need to see what is under the bandages, its like fricking Christmas. I could so go for a candy cane.

12:30pm, the bandage are now off, and the doctor has left. There is a lot of swelling, and the labia may be in need of a revision, but we have to wait for the swelling to go down. Helen says at this point in time with the swelling and rash from the bandages it looks more like boiled kidney then anything else. Which is a good way to put what the photos of the bandage removal photos I saw looked like. I’ll give it a week or two till I decide how it all looks, but for now I’m just really glad to have the bandages off.

Bangkok Log part 2

As of writing this I have been recovering from my surgery in Nonthavej Hospital for 3 days. The doctor comes by every day to check up on me and Friday he told me to start getting out of bed and walking. I have managed two walks today. The first was quite short and ended with me on the toilet for the first time in six days. The second was longer and Helen took me to the first floor to see the fishies.

The staff here has been wonderful. Every day a nurse comes in to check my blood pressure, temperature, and empty my errr fluids. She stops by several times a day and after which she says, “no feava.” She is very nice, and always smiles, come to think of it everyone here in Thailand smiles, except for the cops, and passport control. Those guys don’t smile or scowl. They show no emotion or trace of emotion, like the Place guard in England. I get the idea if anyone crossed one of these guys they would be dead before the knew what happened, and the cop wouldn’t even break a sweat in the 100 degree heat.

Twice a day the two little Thai nurses come in my room say, “clean body” and before I can respond they two basins full of water (from where I have no idea) and begin to wash me from head to toe. When they finish they have not only washed my body, but they have changed me and all my bedding without me ever knowing. The only explanation I have for this ability to do all this is they must have mastered the art of nurse-fu. Like nun-jujitsu, nurse-fu is an awesome martial art. Yet unlike the nuns at the catholic schools I attended growing up who used their nun-jujitsu to immobilize if to cripple the kids these nurse-fu masters use their abilities to help people, but woe if any ever use this for nefarious purposes. There may be no stopping them.

Then there is Helen, my sweet Helen. She has been a wonder to have along on this trip. She is my Grumpy angel. Despite being disgruntled at the communication gap, the lack of vegetarian food choices. She has stood by me day and night, giving me a hand with everything. If ever there was proof of someone’s love and devotion to another she has shown it to me in spades, and I owe her big time.

I was informed today as well that Sunday the bandages will be coming off, and for the first time I will see myself without that bit attached. On an artistic note my dreams have given light to a sculpture I want to start this summer, and it may take some time to finish, as it is something I’ve never attempted before.

Thank you all again for your well wishes and support.

Cheers one and all

Bangkok log part 1

Its midnight Bangkok time, the day before my surgery. Today I met with Dr. Pichet (for the first time ever). He comes across as a nice man, and his staff also seems nice.

Bangkok is a very odd place to me. In the short time that I’ve been here I’ve made a few observations; for one driving here is way different from anything I have ever seen. I have only seen one traffic light, and that seemed to make things all the worse. Drivers here pull up to an intersection, and just decide to go through, when they want to, and traffic lines are nothing more then suggestions. The people on motorcycles are even more insane then the car drivers. They use traffic like its a big game of chicken, and at the light they use the lane dividers as a lane in itself.

As for the city itself, I don’t think city planning was ever considered. Commercial, industrial and residential don’t have set zones, its more like, “oh, I think a five star hotel will be perfect here.” It just so happens there is another building below it. No I am not making this up nor am I making up that outside my hotel room window is a small shantytown and one of the shacks is equipped with satellite dishes.

When we arrived at the doctor’s office we came down a narrow alley and all I could think was, “what the hell I’m getting a back alley sex change?” As it is his office is very nice inside, and from everything I can tell it is quite normal for this area. Like I pointed out above, this place is of the “Look there is a square inch of space, quick let’s build something there.”

The time leading up to now I have not been nervous really about the surgery, I think that has been because it has seemed so far off, now that it is just a few hours away I find that I am quite nervous. I mean for fuck sakes I flew half way around the world to have a doctor I’ve never met, only ever exchanging emails with him perform what is the first surgery of my life on me.

I mean this is something I have known I needed to do all my life, and here I am waiting to have it done. I know when everything is all said and done I will be very happy I did this, and that I am truly lucky that I have someone as special as Helen here with me. She has been stoic and caring this whole time, I Love her with all that I am. I find it awe inspiring that she is here with me. For me it is no small thing for her to be here. She is not one to like being around people, and yet she tells me she never thought twice about coming.

Wednesday the 7^th of May, at 4:30am Helen and I were awake (because I woke up at about 1am) about to try to get a few more hours of sleep (after I took a bath). The bath really did a number on me, FYI never take a hot bath if you haven’t eaten in two and a half days. As I was saying, we were laying in bed when (mind you we are in the city) we heard roosters begin to crow yes roosters (plural). We turned and looked at each other, “yup this gets more and more fucked up with each day.” I said to her. “Bet that one will be on someone’s dinner table later,” was her reply.

7:00 am we are both up after getting a little more sleep, getting ready to head to the doctor’s office and my 11:00am surgery. To say I am nervous is such an understatement. I’m doing a really good job of not freaking out, and just being nervous, but truthfully I want to scream and run away. In less then 4 hours I will be anesthetized for my first surgery, and when I wake up so many things will be different, and yet I’ll be the same person (just minus the one part of my body I have hated for so long 30++years).

It is now Thursday, I am at the hospital recovering from surgery. I went to Dr Pichet’s office around 9am, had a shower, then was wheeled into the operating room. To tell you the truth the last thing I remember is the anesthesiologist telling me she was going to gas me ( I don’t recall her even doing it).

The next thing I recall was waking up and seeing my Helen and feeling like shit. Due to my low blood pressure I became dizzy and threw up a few times. I got one piece of pizza down then it came back up a few hours later. After a few hours I was loaded in to an ambulance and taken to the hospital. I will be here for the next three days. Just a note hotdogs are all sorts of wrong the morning after SRS. Helen and I have 300 minutes of Internet time, so we will both be checking our emails when we can (I’ll check mine if I’m awake:P).

The communication gap is difficult, however everyone here in Bangkok has been very nice, unlike in France.

Cheers and I’ll post again in a few days

Darcie

Oh fuck I did it, and yes they did give me my testicles to take home with me (wooot brass balls here I come.)

I can also tell you all this, the surgery doesn’t hurt, but after hurts like fucking hell.

One Week to Go

Its now a week before I fly out of Detroit to Bangkok for my surgery. My Modern Art History exam behind me, and a summer free from classes lays ahead. As of my exam ending I have decided to try and teach myself at the very least some basic Thai, as it is polite to make even an attempt at learning the language of the country I’m going to. I have little doubt this will not be easy, but I do feel I need to try. I purchased a set of audio CD’s (uploaded the files in MP3 format so I can load them on to a player for the flight downloaded a Thai to English dictionary, and I’m going to stop off at the library and pick up a book. I have also set out to teach myself to type (the real way). The way I see it is these sorts of things may add to my employability, and just help improve me as a person.

I have taken to listening to the MP3’s of Thai language as I go on my walks and it is really quite fun to watch people as they walk past me as I am speaking parts. I may not be an expert by any stretch, but ehhh its fun.

I have been trying to sort out what I need to bring with me for the trip. I know it will be hot, so I am only packing light weight clothes. I want to bring my cameras as well.

More then anything I am concerned about this week and going off HRT for the next two weeks. I remember a few years ago when I ran out of spirolactone, and the testosterone began to build back up in my system. I only hope there has been sufficient “damage to my body’s ability to produce testosterone keeping this from being a problem. I really don’t want to feel that sort of aggression again.

Tomorrow I’ll be going to my trans support group (one that I have been part of since I came out) for the last time before I leave. They have been a really good source of support and a safe place. I am very fortunate to have had the chance to be a part of that group.

I have also had the pleasure of being part of a wonderful community on Second Life known as the Transgender Resource Center. I have met a number of very kind and caring people through there. Most of whom I am very happy to call my friends, both in Second Life and in my Real Life. Thank you one and all.

I am also very lucky to have the loving and unwavering support of my girlfriend, partner, and bride to be. She has offered and made plans to come with me to Bangkok for the 3 weeks I will be there. I am looking forward even more to this trip because she will be there at my side, just as she has always been by me for the last 25 months.

The closer I get to my surgery I am struck by a very odd thought, and I feel I need to put it out there. I was at work alone in the cash office, when I began to think, “I was born intersexed, so in reality I am both male and female; if I had been raised as a female, would I have felt I should have been male? Was I meant to be transsexual no matter what configuration?”

I do not expect anyone will ever be able to answer that one, but I have these thoughts pop into my head especially when I am alone with numbers. I really love numbers as they help me realize thoughts outside of them, as well as aspects of myself.

Well I’m off to get some sleep as I have work the next two days, and tomorrow I need to drive to Ann Arbor for my support group.

Cheers to you all

Two weeks to go (and no I’m not counting, I’m burning the damn days)

It’s now two weeks before I leave for Bangkok Thailand for my SRS. This is something I’ve known from the age 10 (I knew in every part of me years before then that I should have been a girl) when I read the first book (big dusty psychiatrist book) on gender incongruence. From that point on I have understood what was going on and what I needed to do. So here I am 28 years later and on the horizon of having that aspect of myself “corrected.”

So the question arises, “what the hell am I going to do? How will I pass the time till I fly out?”

The day I booked surgery I made a day by day calender from Joss paper (a Buddhist prayer paper) and I burn each day in a small had raised copper bowl (being an artist does have its advantages). I do this as my girlfriend/partner watched via webcam. Last month she came here for a visit and when she went back to England she took every other day with her, and for this last month we have been alternating burning days. I admit I am not Buddhist or religious for that matter, but the practice of everyday burning the day is sort of cathartic. It gives me time to reflect on the day and what they mean.

Up till last month it didn’t hit me how close it was getting to the day. Then day 30 hit and I sat looking at the day thinking, “how did I get here? Is this for real?” By this time I had everything lined up, and in order for my trip; Passport, Surgery paid off, plane ticket, hotel lined up, suitcases, money converted to Baht, a copy of my therapist letter, a copy of my medical records, all my lab work done.

I know I have plenty to keep me busy leading up to departure; final exam in a Modern Art History course, work, packing. That said, I have felt a bit, I don’t know, anxious. Hell I’ve re-tiled two bathroom floors in the building I live in, made myself a handbag,and a laptop bag, set up for one art show, took another art show down, wrote a research paper (13 pages on one painting), taken to walking 3 to 10 miles a day (okay that one was because my doctor said I have to, as I’ve developed hypothyroid). I’m thinking I may build myself a futon frame for my mattress, and I have a few ideas for some clothes I want to make. I might go to the library and borrow a few DVD’s (Fido and Code 46 sound interesting).

I have to say when I booked this little adventure back on September 7^th I felt calm and the only thing I found that made me nervous was the thought of being in a country that I didn’t speak a bit of the language (maybe I’ll spend the next 2 weeks learning some Thai). However in the last few days, as the date becomes tangible I find myself nervous, not worried or apprehensive, more like in a state of wonder. I really have no clue how things will change, or if they will. I do not see this as an ending, just another point in my travels through my life. I don’t think, I’ll wake up from surgery, the bandages will come off a few days later and, “gasp! I’ll be a woman!” I’m still going to be me. I’ve been living like this for over 3 years, and this isn’t going to be my defining moment or anything like that. However I do understand this change will bring about some changes (come on people there are some pretty obvious ones, I won’t get in to them).

I do have a gift card to Barnes and Noble, maybe I’ll get myself a book for the trip. I have one I started when I went to England in 2006, I haven’t finished it yet, as I left it for my girlfriend to read (she’s a total book junkie) and she brought it with her when she came to visit.

Just a bit of advice for anyone that is thinking (or planning on doing this) don’t set it up for a week after finals, thinking, “oh hey these classes will help keep my mind off of this. I’ll strictly have my classwork to focus on. Golly gee that’s an awesometacular plan.”

No its not! You won’t be able to clearly focus on your course work, feel out of sorts in the classroom, not to mention all the things you will need to do before going. Trust me, I’m speaking form first-hand experience here.

Well cheers and all that stuff:)

Maybe I’ll take a sketchbook with me, and just draw (that actually sounds nice)