Years Became Months …

Then months became weeks, now it’s getting to the point where weeks become days. Yep that’s life at the moment and now the endgame is in sight. I’m also feeling the closer I get the more layers I shrug off that were holding me down for a long while. I feel lighter, stronger, and ready to take on something I know is going to be hugely challenging.
Again I’m writing kinda cryptically here, but it’s how stuff is forming in my mind and I’m just rolling with it.

Today I had a pretty important appointment. It’s taken three years to get to this point, but I’ve crossed it now. I’ve had a consultation on the surgery I’ve been after for so long. Now that’s done I’m looking at a time scale of weeks now until it goes ahead. Soon those weeks will be days (which I’m already counting down) and then I’ll be there.

I’ll spare you the usual travel details and whatnot and my usual issues, though I will give a mention to my local bus company who really need to get their shit together. Thanks to my first bus being late (again) and my connecting bus seemingly vanishing out of existence it took an hour to travel the 5 miles to the train station. Rebecca couldn’t get the time off work for this one so it was a solo trip, hence the buses.
Still, I got to my appointment with an hour to spare (about average for me) and promptly ran into a friend I keep in contact with on Twitter and tend to see at big meet ups such as Trans pride. A few minutes nattering away and I get called in. Surprised given I was so early. I’d even packed a book for the waiting room.

This time the appointment was going to be rather different, less emphasis on gatekeeping and much more on what I’d like and what would and could happen. I’d done my research but even so I was feeling a bit like I was walking into the unknown after so many formulaic appointments at Charing Cross.

Things proceeded quickly. After the usual greetings, a quick question on how long I’d been living full time for came up and we were onto medical stuff. Questions about close family, any personal health conditions or family conditions mainly, before being asked what procedure I was after (penile inversion) as well as all the usual complications that might arise from surgery. Stuff like possibility of prolapse, things not healing well, not having any sensation, among other rarer things.

Then came the bit I was most anxious about: The psychical examination.

This had been causing me anxiety on two fronts. First off, I’m not all that keen on letting anyone see my bits, much less someone I don’t really know. The second was concerning hair removal. I’ve been paranoid that having spent this long waiting I was going to get told ‘No’ because hair needed removing, something that falls under ‘Stuff that can be done while waiting around’.

It was something that had bothered me so much I took things into my own hands (literally), got Rebecca’s electrolysis machine set up and went to town. Electrolysis is a fiddly practice. It involves precisely guiding a very thin needle into a hair follicle and then burning it out with a jolt of electricity. It’s also a procedure I know I’d have a zero percent chance of sitting still for if someone else was doing it (I jump enough with face lasering). So several hours have been spent numbing down below with emla cream, trying to get as comfy as I can while being hunched over and frying any hair in any areas I was worried about. I was having to battle body, my dysphoria and intense dislike of touching myself, never mind having to pull and move things so I could get the angle right on the needle and my ADHD, which when I’m trying to really concentrate loves to kick in and shut my head down.

It was all probably worth it though because I was told I don’t need any hair removal I nearly cried. The biggest barrier left had been removed. I have plenty of material to work with and I’m fit for surgery. Thanks to work I’m probably the fittest I’ve ever been in my life, which is not really saying much as my fitness levels have always been fairly low between my joint issues and mild asthma.

Anyway, back in my clothes and back in the consultation room, we turn to getting things moving. I have to stop HRT soon (to help minimise the risk of blood clotting and DVT). I only have to stop 4 weeks before surgery because I’m fairly fit and at a low risk anyway. This is a relief as I am dreading the hot flushes that come with HRT withdrawal. I’m awful at thermoregulation at the best of times and very prone to overheating which I often don’t notice) and breaking out in hives.

I could have had a date for surgery at the end of this month because of that. The thing is I kinda had it in my mind it would be longer so I’ve picked something a couple of weeks after that initial date (which funnily enough is now the day I’ll have my pre-surgical consultation). I feel I’ll have enough time to get everything in order, sort out a couple of family birthdays that are coming up and get a couple of other ongoing matters tied up before going in.

At the end I had a piece of paper in my hands with the dates (and a folder of stuff to read on for my next appointment). That was surreal. Physical proof, I could hold and touch, that it is going to happen. And there in the middle of the waiting room I laughed, damn near cried and started bouncing like Tigger and doing my happy dance as that moment hit.

After that things were a bit of a blur. I remember calling Rebecca and giving her the news, and then a couple of trains were involved, and then I was in the car, almost crying again while bouncing because I was so overwhelmed. She’d snuck out and got me a card and cake on the way to collect me as well. She’s the best.

It’s still sinking in now and I’m glad I’ve got the day off tomorrow to process this and start getting a plan together. Well I say getting it together. I have notes and things down already, now it’s just pulling it all together and getting ready.

I’m sure the ‘Oh shit, what am I doing?’ moments will also creep in. I’ve never had an operation in my life and surgery of any kind terrifies me so I’ll have all that to deal with over the next few weeks.

And then the weeks will become days … I can hardly wait 😀

 

 

(Left to right: Me all set for the day, grinning like the Cheshire Cat after my appointment, and the card and cake Rebecca got me).

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4 thoughts on “Years Became Months …

  1. Hi Chrissy, Thank you for sharing this with us. I am so happy for you. And I am looking forward to following you along the journey. I know Rebecca will look after you. I also have my big appointment coming up in a month or two, hopefully also with good news. Take care. Sending many hugs and love from the other side of the world. Sarah

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  2. Hi Chrissy,

    This is absolutely wonderful news. I can well imagine just how excited you feel; it’s just 9 days till the first anniversary of my surgery and I know how fabulous I felt to be free of all that junk. Look forward to following you progress. Take car, eat well and you’ll sail through on cloud 9.

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