Rambling Faggy Tranny,
Living in Utah.
My name is Dexter and I was assigned the gender "female" at birth. Since December of 2008, there's been a whole lotta social and physical transition going on up in here. Why? To help my brain and body physiologically connect. Even though my gender identity (genderqueer) hasn't changed, after a series of social pickles (like being unable to use my debit card!), I am now dude. who'dathunk.
I'm currently a college student and a McNair Scholar majoring in Neuro/Social Psychology. I intend to nab me a PhD!
Kiddle Era:
Can you count, suckers? I say, the future is ours... if you can count!
Started this yesterday and I can’t wait for her to be finished. Then we can, at long last, grow old together. *swoon*
Alright, so it’s unlike me to post two mega vain photo shindigs back-to-back like this, but here’s the deal. I absolutely had to share the stubble & ‘stache action occurring on my face at the moment. Look, for pete’s hairy sake! Seriously. I generally try to hide my newfound transtastic vanity under the guise of “photo documentation” - which, initially, it was. But now it’s just vanity. The end. Whatdoyado. I’ll actually write something tomorrow. Promise.
My mom says that my hair looks “painted on”. If THIS looks painted on, then so does the cotton on the tip of a Q-Tip©! Rude.
Ouch! I didn’t notice this until earlier today when I removed the compression vest to finally get cleaned up - but I have lacerations on both sides from wearing the vest for 6 days. Why I didn’t feel these, I don’t know. Pain killers initially - but I stopped taking them Tuesday. High pain tolerance? I dunno! But what the frak.
The moral of this story? Leaving my vest on for 6 days was entirely worth these lacerations, which require less help healing than my chest and nipple grafts.
My compression vest has been washed and is now hanging up to dry while I relax in the front room with my mom. Topless. Lacerations, bruising, swelling, stitches, and nipple grafts gots NOTHIN’ on how absolutely comfortable and relieving this feels. I still can’t believe that this has happened. The reality is setting in little by little and I love it.
My mom put some Neosporin and bandages on the lacerations. We also removed the bandages from the drain tube wounds since they had stopped leaking. For cleansing, I decided not to shower since I’m super paranoid about babying my nipple grafts so the tissue doesn’t die. Instead, my mom helped me wash my hair - and then I took a quick bath for everything else. My nipple bandages remained entirely dry and I won’t remove and re-bandage them just yet.
PART 2: Double Incision Mastectomy with Nipple Grafts by Dr. Cori Agarwal Surgery Photos (EXTREMELY GRAPHIC)
Earlier today I learned that Dr. Cori Agarwal’s medical secretary, Haley, was able to come in and take photographs during my 3 hour surgery on August 11, 2011. I had asked her to 6 months ago and, fortunately, Dr. Agarwal also wanted her to come observe this type of surgery. Double-win!
As a warning, these photos are extremely graphic, but also incredibly informative and educational. This is why I’m displaying them after the “read more” button below instead of as a photo gallery. Proceed with caution!
PART 1: Double Incision Mastectomy with Nipple Grafts by Dr. Cori Agarwal Surgery Photos (EXTREMELY GRAPHIC)
Earlier today I learned that Dr. Cori Agarwal’s medical secretary, Haley, was able to come in and take photographs during my 3 hour surgery on August 11, 2011. I had asked her to 6 months ago and, fortunately, Dr. Agarwal also wanted her to come observe this type of surgery. Double-win!
As a warning, these photos are extremely graphic, but also incredibly informative and educational. This is why I’m displaying them after the “read more” button below instead of as a photo gallery. Proceed with caution!
Bandage/Stitches/Drain Tubes removal by my surgeon, Dr. Cori Agarwal, earlier today (Aug 16, 2011). I’ll be wearing the compression vest for another 1 - 3 weeks; and I have an appointment in a week with Dr. Agarwal to see how I’m healing.
Photo Surprise!
My father just spontaneously transferred some photos from a USB stick of his on to my netbook. Photos from Thursday and Friday - none of which I remember. Well, except for this first one.
This one I remember. Pre-Op, in the waiting room with my parents. Getting poked with my first intravenous drip ever was the scariest part. The first attempt in my hand didn’t work out, due to some valve don’t-wanna situation going on. Fortunately, Nurse Arlene was super distracting and comforting as she poked me in my left arm instead.
I do not remember this one. At all. First Post-op Picture EVER! Where’d ma boobies go??? My earliest memory was of Nurse Arlene (above) giving me a popcicle. And of almost vomiting on the car ride home after I’d pleaded for my father to pull over for coffee.
