Another hiatus: another interlude when i haven’t been posting.
This time it was superstition. If i posted, something was bound to go wrong!
On thursday 8 April, I turned up for my second consultation with the gender specialist. I’ve done my time in counselling – of which maybe more at a later date.
I am about as out as an out person can get. Friends, family and work colleagues know about me. I have possibly lost one piece of work on account of the new me, as well as experienced the various insults the non-trans world seems to think appropriate to hurl.
So i reckoned i was ready. But yet… i think i’ve mentioned before just how much the start of hormones means to you if you’re trans…and how hard it is for the non-trans to understand that.
The further down the path i go, the more i know it isn’t just about the hormones (or surgery): far from it. But once you start taking those things, real bodily change starts to happen. Slow – ever so slow. But happen it does.
Everyone told me i’d be allowed to start. Rationally i hoped i would. In almost every part of my life i am an optimist, but yet…
The very thought that i’d be turned down – sent to the back of the queue to wait another three months – filled me with utter horror. Despair. I did my best not to think about that eventuality.
Even so, i found the fear filling my dreams the night before: a Kafka-esque nightmare in which i had failed to fill in all the forms correctly. I know things are getting to me when i start to dream about them – because usually i don’t.
A GP visit to run through the health risks yet again. Then the specialist visit, where we went in intricate detail through the likely pros and cons of this step. The risks…the risks…the risks.
But in the end, a nod. A recommendation that i start with patches (estrodot, for those who are interested)…and back home that evening, i attached the very first patch just below my waistline (as it says on the packet).
My new journey has begun.