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Update on Transition Progress Report

Get first surgical referral letter - check

After a 1 hour session by phone with my therapist in the States, I will now have my first referral letter for surgery. WOOT!!!!

I didn’t expect any objections, didn’t get any, and, honestly, my therapist was more concerned about my adjustments to life in England. So, all in all, I am quite happy. Now, if I can just get the second appointment lined up….

Muhahahaha! My cunning plan is coming together….

Transition Progress Report

Save lots of money for surgery – 2/3 complete
Set up appointment for first letter for surgery – check
Get referral for second letter for surgery – check
Make final decision on surgeon
Get first surgical referral letter
Get second surgical referral letter
Schedule appointment with surgeon
Schedule surgery date
Surgery

The end is near and it’s ass is mine.

Everything Is Going According To Plan

As the title betrays, a large number of things are now going according to plan: girlfriend, job, house, moving, transition, etc. In fact, just recently, when I was in a bit of a funky, I suddenly realized that, for the first time in a year, my transition plans are actually on track. To now have all of these issues whistling like dixie at the same time, I must admit though, is slightly unsettling. I keep expecting shit to hit the fan at some point. Despite Aunite have the occassional wobble of late, I must admit that life has become just pretty darn good.

Speaking of Auntie and the aforementioned wobbles, she has been carrying a heavy load for quite a long time now. Additionally, I don’t think she quite has all of her stress-management ducks in a row just yet. But, in keeping with the optimistic tone of this post, I think she will get there. Oddly enough, her wobbles of late seem to stem from the post-transition depression, or a “what now phase” as she calls it, that many of us go through. I am hoping, though, that as our lives become a bit more stable, comfortable, and relaxed, she will be able to work though what is eating at her.

Anyhoo, life at my new job is progressing, however slowly. It took 3 days just to get a network ID and such, but it’s a corporation of considerable girth. Considering the weekly curry specials and how much I have been enjoying working there and meeting people, I can overlook some of its faults at this point.

Right, time for bed. Take care all!

Knock! Knock! Who’s There?

When I first saw Katelyn’s comments on the previous post, I though, “Okay, I get the point. I haven’t posted in a while.” But then I looked at the date. Eeep! It’s been 17.77 days!! (Not that I am so bad at temporal math that I rely on Excel…)

Anyhoo, a few details to fill in the gaps would be a good idea. Auntie and I are still in Bristol, although we did go home for about an hour or so last weekend. Speaking of which, Auntie and I gave out notice; our last day there will be in mid-May.

I am still looking for work and haven’t found squat. Auntie recently had her 1-year birthday for her and her designah vagina. And in darker moments, I wonder for just how long have I put my transition on hold through decisions of the last year.

I guess the reason I haven’t posted much of late is that not that much has changed. Being sans job, even electro is on hold, not to mention surgery. Like many things, it all comes down to money, more specifically, not enough money coming in.

To make matters worse, I still haven’t been paid from Two Guys and a Dyke, largely because the company hasn’t been paid by all of our clients. (Seeing a pattern here?) Although we are being pretty good about it, most things are going on the credit card at the moment; I would like to believe that I’ll be paid within two weeks or so, but it seems safer to safeguard the cash we have on hand.

So, instead of focusing on transition, which I can’t do anything about, I have been, as always, trying to throw myself into either work or the search for it. After about a week of steady applications to contract positions around the south of England, I seem to finally be getting a decent number of callbacks. I even have an interview next week!

Okay, so the tone of this post hasn’t been all roses, but I am trying to look at it as just getting through the torny bush. This past year with my home in England certainly hasn’t been all that I might have hoped, but then neither Auntie nor I have given up yet.

Brown Eyed Girl

I wake up most morning and get to look into my girlfriend’s gorgeous brown eyes. With exchanged ‘good mornings’ and, if we have time, some morning snuggles, I know that is the best that it can get right now.

Sometimes, having a partner and being pre-op can be pretty damn hard too.

X Chromosome Shows Why Women Are Different

A recent article on Yahoo described in rather basic terms an article recently published in Nature. The article is limited in its explanation of the science, so if anyone has another link to it, especially on that gets into the nitty-gritty of it, please comment with it below. Cheers!

Waiting, Waiting, Waiting

Were it not completely crystal clear already, I’d emphasize how little love I have for waiting for SRS. At this point, the restrictions are largely financial, and, as I don’t have a UK-based job at the moment, it feels like I should be doing more to fix the situation. Unfortunately, things in the UK tend to move quite a bit slower than those in the States. In many ways, the UK seems to be the polar opposite of the States’ hire-and-fire mentality. As a fair number of folk seem to have an “I shall not be moved” attitude, my patience has had a workout.

Another one of my friends here in the UK came home from her surgery yesterday. She’s looking quite good, much better than Auntie did as a matter of fact. Before Auntie and I drove her home from the hospital, however, we had a pretty stressful day with lots of crying. I was happy to give her a lift home and such, but it seems easy to see how that might be a bit like rubbing salt in the wound.

HRT and NHS

I had a bit of an odd set of experiences with my HRT today. I was running a bit low on Premarin and wasn’t going to be back home in time to get it filled at our regular surgery, so I registered as a new, temporary patient in the surgery near Bristol and made an appointment.

The doctor was nice enough, slightly better than my regular one. I gave him the medicines that I am on and he asked how much Premarin I am taking daily. After I told him my current dosage (three 1.25 mg tablets per day), a confused look crossed his face. “Oh, right, I am a pre-op MTF transexual.” After a BP check and a few more questions, he sent me on my way with scripts in paw.

All going well, happy as a clam, I head off to the pharmacy, drop off my scripts and wait for them to be filled. After a few minutes, the pharmacist calls me over and asks, “What dosage have you been on for the Premarin?” I repeated the dosage, agreed that it was a “high” dosage, and, apparently satisfied, he filled it and sent me on my way.

The really nice part of it all was that I got both my scripts on the NHS, rather than having to pay for the Premarin privately. My regular doctor wouldn’t give me the HRT “because of why I was taking it.” My Pyoor friend is of the opinion that making me pay extra for the HRT just because I am trans is illegal; I am inclined to agree and if Auntie and I were planning on staying here any time at all and I had a supply of Premarin I could depend on, I would be much more vocal in my opposition. At the moment, though, I simply plot his doom.