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. Importantly, my gender identity (genderqueer) hasn't changed and doubtfully ever will. Male, female, genderqueer, he, she, ze... whatev.
I'm currently a college student and a McNair Scholar majoring in Psychology. I intend to nab me a PhD!
Kiddle Era:
Can you count, suckers? I say, the future is ours... if you can count!
Gym n’ Pink Nipplage
SO REFRESHING. After top surgery, recovery, and then a conveniently timed month-long coughing sickness, today I went to the gym with the most bad ass gym buddy ever - my mom. Back in the good ol’ days, my mom and I went to the gym together on a daily basis. Until I started the hormone shindig and the locker room progressively got a lot more uncomfortable than it already was. Eventually it got to the point where I no longer knew how to navigate gendered gym terrain and resolved to work out from home.
Which I did, for a minute. But with cats purring and video games within my reach, that didn’t last long.
Until today when my mom and I finally ventured to the gym again together. My first boob-less gym work out!
It was awesome.
I hopped on the elliptical and sweat simulated jogged for 30 minutes. No chest fat jigglage! Back in the day just feeling it there caused a lot of physiological distress that had me hating running-like motion. But now? Love it. I could’ve continued to run, but I couldn’t resist skipping off to experience other gym thangs - including the men’s locker room.
Since I was a wee bot until I stopped going to the gym a few years ago, locker rooms were all kinds of awkward. My mom went with me before primarily to help with this, so she could walk in with me and help make the experience less socially awkward. But, this was also the first time I walked in to a locker room without startled reactions. No one called security, no one stood up and darted out when I entered… nothin’. Just, walked in, did my thing, walked out.
Whoa.
On a related note, recovery has been going super well! Between classes (particularly stats - the most intimidating phobia triggering topic *coughmathcough* that I’ve avoided for about 13 years) and being sick, I’ve been negligent about updating my progress. Essentially, this past month has been my nipples morphing from little blackish mutants into pinkish little nipply nubs. Now that they’re scab-free and becoming more nipply with each new day, I slather them in a Vitamin E / Shea Butter concoction. They’re so cool. Pictures soon!
So honestly, throwing up a photo like this is unprecedented for me. In fact, back in my “before times”, I’d poke fun at people who threw up “ooo look how cute I am.” photos. I was all about the modesty. But now? Uh, yeah, alright, modesty is still awesome and all - but, from now on, it’s not for me. Guess who doesn’t have to wear a binder ever again and feels super cute 4 the 1st time eva? Me!
Already I’m losing precious study time having so much fun exhausting myself romping about in the world. I feel absolutely ecstatic and the most comfortable I’ve ever experienced. I can look at myself in the mirror. I can look down at my bare chest. I can even take a photo like this and throw it up on my blog.
I never knew it was possible to feel this awesometastic !!!
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.
Drains & Bandages Be Gone!
Earlier today I bravely ventured forth into the world twice. First in the morning with my dad for coffee nearby. Then all inspired and confident in my outdoor adventuring abilities, downtown for vegan hot dogs with Andrew and Aaron! I had envisioned a grand 2 hour adventure of sitting and chatting - but, in reality, I made it 45 minutes before whimpering for Andrew to drive me home so I could nap.
But more exciting than those 45 minutes? Tomorrow I get these pesky drain tubes and bandages removed! Can’t wait!
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.
Recovery Progress!
At the rate at which I’ve been spoiled throughout this recovery… I’m tempted to come up with excuses for a major surgery every week! For example, whenever I sit on my recliner chair I obnoxiously whimper: “help. help. help. help.” and my adorable mom will come lift the foot rest for me. Which I quite literally can’t do on my own - but still, she does this for me about a hundred freaking times a day and night. And then places a furry blanket on me. It’s a disturbing sight and I’m above and beyond lucky to have my parents and kitties and pup here for me.
I also don’t have a choice. For example, the other night I woke up around 4 am, as my mom seemingly slumbered in the recliner chair next to mine. I didn’t want to wake her, so I did my best to slowly lean forward and to quietly lower the foot rest (I can lower it, just can’t pull it up). As I stood in the darkness I suddenly hear: “What’re you doing? Where’re you going? What do you need?”
There’s no escaping the radar of a mother, that’s for sure. It’s like I’m post-op James Caan in a really distorted, lovey version of Misery.
My dad got me soy pudding and yogurt, gummy bunnies, split pea soup (for the much-needed pain-killer fighting fiber!), and minestrone soup… I have seasons 3, 4, and 5 of Dexter, kitty cuddles, video games… this is just, messed up. My parents are pretty much the best care takers ever.
Kitten and Evilbunny purrfest while I recover with a Dexter marathon. Best recovery suite situation ever!
Getting a LOT of rest today. I’m loaded up on nausea/vomiting and pain pills currently (plus an antibiotic and Zantac for heart burn), Vitamin C, and lots of Coconut Juice n’ Chick’n Noodle Soup. I had no idea that I would be this immobile. Even trying to open a can or unplug something hurts. Fortunate for me, my mom is the best care-taker ever and has been going above and beyond to keep me comfortable. And we’ve been watching “comfort horror” movies together that we used to watch when I was little - starting with Lost Boys. Woot!
The best thing ever for comfort, by the way, is this pimp ass recliner chair. It’s so.comfortable for recovery. I even slept in it last night while my poor kitties were shut away in my bedroom cuddle-less (but, at least for these first couple nights, the last thing I want is to wake up to a kitty cat kneading my chest). Oh, and my mom slept in the recliner chair next to me last night and reassured me that it was okay to wake her up if I needed anything. Which I did, at 2am - to use the restroom and take more pain and nausea medication.
I’ll have my compression vest on until next Wednesday, the 17th. This is also the day that I’ll get these blood-filled bulbs removed!
Essentially, everything is exhausting to me today. Even trying to write this blog entry. So, since my body demands more rest — more rest it will get!
Surgery Went Well!
The surgery went perfectly and I’m now in a compression vest loaded up on Hydrocodone, Cephalexin, and Promethazine being babied by my parents, basking in episodes of Ugly Betty while kicking back in a super pimp comfy recliner chair (best hand-me-down gift ever), trying to prevent the kitten from running across my chest again to get to her grandma (my mom), and guzzling down Coconut Juice through a straw.
And, most likely, won’t remember having posted this in approximately 10 minutes from now.
Yay!!!! I’ll post pictures and more details soon, but essentially, this is the BEST DAY EVER. It has really happened, at long last. This is real.
So real it’s unreal.
Even if I vomit, I’ll be thinking, “I’m vomiting because I HAD JUST TOP SURGERY! YAY!” Which, seriously, out of the million + 1 reasons someone may vomit, is #1.
