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!
In my case, it was to consider removing the bits below, and adding above. For a Transman it’s just the opposite. Top surgery involves removal of the breast for a transman, while hormones or a boob job for transwomen. You get my gist anyway.
The DSM IV (4) once made the rules as far as who was a candidate for SRS. Hormones replacements, and dressing/living in the role of the opposite was part of it. Massive counseling the other.
But with the publication of the DSM V (5) these rules have changed. For a person my age, who is not transitioning by trying to pass as a woman, all I had to do was inform my doctor that I wanted to investigate surgery.
Was this an easy decision to make? No. It took 60 years of life to get to this point. But was it easy to get it approved in Canada? Yes, in my opinion. Although I did have to go through 2 extensive interviews with psychologists, the approval process was fairly easy.
SRS is also all covered by social medicine, the government health care system. Because of my age, I actually got bumped up the line a bit. Instead of waiting a year it ended up being only 3 months.
I was surprised to learn though that the actual surgery, conducted in the Women’s College Hospital, was in fact like a menu of options. You always do Stage 1, but if you go to Stage 2 it prevents you from doing stage 3, 4 or 5.
So I opted for stage 1, as I wanted to leave my options open for the other stages.
Let’s face it, it’s really like cosmetic surgery, so it depends on the individual person’s wants and comfort level. Stage 1 is the first stage for nearly everyone, and in the Transwoman or MtF it begins with removal of the testicles. An orchiectomy. Common if you have cancer of the testicles, where they are removed and supplemental testosterone prescribed.
I have told doctors and those who know me well that I always felt testosterone was toxic to me. Although through the magic of estrogen and progesterone my testosterone levels were near zero, it still wasn’t quite enough for me. Plus I had all the wonderful children I ever intended to have, especially at my age.
My decision was three-fold however. The first image, the second sexuality, and the third pain.
Gravity does something to a man’s privates, and the older you get the more they hang there. Sorry to be graphic. As I looked in the mirror this was the one part of the body I had the most displeasure in.
The second was my belief in transexualism, my birth and past, and nature/nurture, had led me down the long path of deeply believing I would have been happier living my life as a woman. I wanted to take this step while I still had the chance, my journey for contentment incomplete.
The third reason is the easiest. Pain. Any man can tell you one of the worst feelings in the world for pain is when you get kicked or hit right in the scrotum. It will bend you over double, incapacitate you for minutes and minutes and minutes.
The testes are fed by the same nerves coming from your lower spine, and in my case the pain in the left testicle was overwhelming at times, but quite persistent. It isn’t that uncommon of a condition.
So killing 3 birds with two stones. A favorite joke.
The meeting with the surgeon discussed the various steps, with Step 2 being the removal of all that extra skin. I won’t bore you with the name, but they all are one sort of “ectomy” or another. But if that procedure is done it prohibits the other steps, as the skin forms the foundation for the female parts in question.
The other stages involve removal of the penis itself and the formation of a more realistic looking private area for a transwoman. Surgeons and plastic surgeons have fine tuned their craft, and the end results are rather remarkable.
But for the time being I am happy with Stage 1, but have left my options open in case I change my mind, which I probably will.
There’s a lot of other surgeries and steps, such as a tracheal shave where they remove the adam’s apple, full facial surgery, breast implants and the like.
I have to consider my age and my health. My wife’s support and understanding. And my own contentment.
I’ve always considered myself a transwoman, and am happy and proud to now say I’m a post-op, non-transitioning trans woman.
It had been a long journey, the decision not an easy one, but the after effects are something I could never explain in words.
Except to another trans person that had made the same decision.
Regrets? None. Actually I take that back. I regret my generation and social norms prevented me from making this journey earlier.
The surgery itself, the day itself, deserves more than a mention in the post.
It was an unbelievably beautiful event, full of tears of joy and love. My next post.