THE SURGERY

September 1st 2023 was the date of the big event. 

The culmination of a long wait and journey, or just the beginning? 

I really need to capture just the events of that specific day, while it’s still very fresh in my mind.

After 2 failed attempts to transition from male to female I started the new journey.   On January 1 of 2020 I first began using hormones to start the change process.  A separate blog will come on the use of HRT (hormone replacement therapy) and everything required to get to this point.

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Just one more…the beginning

It’s hard to admit that one spent the majority of their life fighting with alcohol, but that was me.  The doctors say self-medicating,  others call it courage in a bottle.  I liked the effect of passing out stoned cold blind…and not having the nightmare.  

One of the major symptoms of PTSD is the reliance on alcohol or drugs, but this becomes an ill-fated means of coping.  Like most of my other coping skills, the alcohol was a way for me to escape the reality of being raped. The event itself was very short in relation to the after effects, like drinking from the age of 14. 

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Sexual Reassignment Surgery a/ka Gender Affirming Surgery

SRS.  That’s the way it was initially described and written.  Sexual (male/female) Reassignment (changing sexes) Surgery….hmmm. 

That’s the way it should remain in my opinion. Remember my first premise, that society has blurred the true transexual person by believing in the term “gender”.  You don’t need surgery to change gender or change masculinity or femininity.  Just go to a great hairstylist (or wig maker), esthetician, and find a dressmaker who knows their stuff and whamo…change of gender!

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A beautiful poem

On occasion I read something that really hits home, something so well written and meaningful that I’ve kept the newspaper, or copied it from the Internet.  I’ve copied this with the breaks as printed in the Sunday New York Times Magazine, May 3, 2020.

I really felt as one with this poem, but perhaps we all do?

Zodiac by Dilruba Ahmed 

(From the book Bring Now The Angels)

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Meds, meds and more…you get the drift.

I find myself in a spider web of doctors, and a cornucopia of medications, all prescribed of course.  Except for the marijuana, cannabis if you like.  But since one doc told me Health Canada would rather you get high than have an opioid, I take that as a medical blessing.

It’s a lot of medication targeted at one specific problem area or to treat a side effect caused by the rest of the meds.  A different prescription for a different symptom. Some are simply handed down by doctor to doctor for issues that no longer exist. 

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Two Memories of the Colonel

If you’ve been following along you know that my father was a Colonel in the US Army. 27 years to be exact.

He had a very interesting career, as one of the original bomb disposal leaders in his field.  You know, the guys that go in after the war and do something with the thousands and thousands of bombs and shell and mines and mortars that didn’t work. They simply didn’t explode, but still very well could blow at any moment. 

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EMDR PART 2:  The bad part

I’ve written previously about EMDR and the type of treatment I personally went through in my EMDR Part 1: Positive…or pure hell.

As a refresher I considered it an attempt at hypnosis, a re-wiring of the trauma event through remembering what exactly happened, at least your perception at the time. Those deep seeded memories that haunt you. Then the therapist helps you by re-visiting those events and minimizing the psychological impact and the prevalence of PTSD symptoms.

That’s my thinking anyway, if I try to capture it in a nutshell.

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