My SRS Page 2

My Journal of this most important event:

Getting back to normal

Or rather, better than normal, because I no longer had the wrong plumbing.

At this stage of healing, especially due to the swelling from the partial facial surgeries, I hardly looked human. Still, I was able to have company and socialize with visitors.

With the SRS in the past, I was quite optimistic of having an improved life in the future.

***

Journal entry--14 October 2001 (day three post-op)

I did manage to get some quality sleep before the 6:00 onslaught of nurses--one to drain the urine, another to drop off my daily ration of water (out of my reach!), another to check the trashcan, another to poke me with a needle in my sore and red rear end, another to take my blood pressure, yet another to take my temperature and pulse, and yet another to sweep and mop the floor.

Afterwards, I started ringing for the nurses to fetch things for me. The first one seemed rather displeased at my rudeness, so I learned to write please and thank you on my notepad when I had a request. This helped immensely, and I regained my cheery mood.

A team of nurses came in and like clockwork, quickly sponged me down and changed my sheets. I laid there motionless, like a bump on a log--an inanimate object for sure, during my spongebath--I could not speak; it was difficult to write during this, and I did not know Thai anyways. But for changing the sheets, it required for me to stand up, attached to tubes and all, so that the bed could be cleaned. I felt very weak, and could barely stand. A chair was offered, but it was excruciatingly painful for me to sit.

One of the nurses seemed actually rather concerned for me, and was very kind and gentle. She treated me with compassion and as if I were a human being instead of an object. This was overwhelming, and I almost swelled up in tears to be treated in that way.

Minda came in, followed later by Dr. Suporn. I was busy eating real food (some soup with actual bits of meat in it--very much a chore; and a can of tomato juice with a straw in it so that I could drink) when I saw Minda, and was very cheerful, apologizing profusely for my rotten behavior during the previous days. When Dr. Suporn arrived, I was very courteous, but still concerned about my swollen chin and jaw. He assured me that I was quite normal, and asked if I had seen myself in the mirror yet. I shook my head, and wanted to say that I was too frightened.

Later, as I lay in the bed, finally watching TV, I noticed that I had not gone to the toilet for number two for three days now, but I sure needed to. But how?! I rang for a nurse and wrote down my question. She helped me up, removed the IV, and unbuckled the urine bag and the flask that held the blood from the SRS bleeding, and helped me to the restroom, where I could have some privacy.

Afterwards, I was brave enough to look in the mirror--I had to see what I now looked like sometime. Instead of Frankenstein, a woman with a puffy face stared back at me. Very interesting. My face was swollen and had bruises all over it, but was distinctly feminine. Even the dark coloring that surrounded the eyes looked like make-up which served only to bring attention to my eyes. And everything was different--my eyelashes looked longer; and what about my eyebrows, did someone pluck them? I had never seen them so pretty. And gone were the misshapen nose and chin--replaced by symmetrical and smooth features.

I took advantage of the fact that I was out of bed and assembled three chairs near my bed and placed all of my luggage on them so that I would have access to everything from the bed.

When I got back in bed, I learned to put an array of pillows under me such that I was laying on everything *but* my fanny (it was really in pain by then). I got out my CD player and rested comfortably.

Later, when it was time for my blood pressure, etc., one of the nurses who speaks just a bit of English said "You, pretty lady; me, not pretty lady."

I shook my head to disagree.

She then pointed to my bandaged crotch and asked, "you, Dr. Suporn?" I nodded yes. She pointed to her own belly and said, "me, same!"

Interesting, but I was not sure just what she meant at the time.

Journal entry--15 October, 2001 (day four post-op)

I slept very well, and woke up in a rather nice mood. My jaw and lip were still very swollen, but much of the pain had subsided. And, when I attempted to speak, I actually made some sounds.

When Wannee came for her daily visit (she generally came twice a day), I was finally ready to have a long conversation instead of just writing gloomy phrases. Sometimes I could speak well enough to be understood; other times, if I could not enunciate properly, I wrote it down. My voice itself was hideous--like James Earl Jones with laryngitis, but I could at least speak again.

I was so courteous during Dr. Suporn's daily visit. There was not much to do that time other than that he reminded me that I would get my dressings removed the next day and would be allowed to walk around again. I needed no reminder, because I knew that the goal of the day was simply to make it through the day and wake up the next day. He did give me some bandages to wear during the night. These would press on the swelling and eventually reduce them.

I was such a bundle of joy and acted so kindly to all around me--such a big difference from the b*tch that I was on my first two days.

I watched some movies and nodded off, sleeping very well.

I had a dream that I knew of no SRS surgeons, and would have to search for one in the Boston area, and that you had to schedule an appointment to see one of these surgeons at least one year in advance. As my dream was ending, I felt good knowing that it might be possible to have SRS in as little as one year from now. I awoke and realized that the SRS was in the past--this was so unlike previous dreams (and I had plenty) where I dreamt that I had the op, only to awake and find out that I had not.

Journal entry--16 October, 2001 (day five post-op)

I slept very well, despite the pressure bandages on my face and head.

Dr. Suporn came in early in the day. I was so pleased to see him because I would get my dressings removed.

Once done, Suporn gave me a mirror to look at my new anatomy. Minda and two other nurses were there as well, all seemingly eager to see how it all turned out. He pointed out the labia major and minor, and showed me the clitoris, which was hooded. The urethra would have to wait for another two days, since that is when the packing and catheter would come out.

At first, it all looked so foreign on me, and the tour of female anatomy that he gave me seemed academic.

Later, when everyone left, I visited the restroom again and viewed my naked body. So amazing--there was nothing masculine about it. My waist seemed so much slimmer than I had ever recalled, and my fanny was so round and soft, and big. Even my breasts seemed more rounder, rather than cone-shaped.

How could I ever forget staring at myself naked in the mirror and for the first time seeing what was undeniably female look back at me? I had finally done it. From that moment on, *that* was the new reality.

When I got back into bed, I put the mirror between my legs and just gazed for quite a long time at the new me. I got used to them right away, and did not miss the old ones one iota. I would never regret SRS. From now on, I no longer hated my genitals, but was very comfortable with my body.

Wannee came by later for her daily visit. She brought me chocolate bars, which I adore. We had a long chat. I had never felt so good.

Journal entry--17 October, 2001 (day six post-op)

Again slept very well with the pressure bandages on my face. When I removed them in the morning, the swelling was the same as before. Sigh. Well, I just needed to get through the day, because I would have my packing and catheter out the next day.

I was so friendly with the nurses that day. Some stopped by for no reason other than to chat, especially Aporn, who speaks English quite well and has been visiting me rather often now that I was nice instead of rude and b*tchy all the time. I was told that I was considered to be one of the nicest and cheerful patients that they had, including those rough first two days. I was very easy to get along with as well. The only complaint that they had of me was the fact that I did not talk much--I just laid there and kept quiet much of the time, especially when they came in to take my blood pressure, drain my urine, etc., I just acted like a bump on a log.

But until recently, I could not speak at all.

Wannee, during her visit, pulled out the 11 or so inch stent that I would become very friendly with soon enough. It was in that mysterious big red bag of post-op goodies next to the TV that I never dared open. That stent looked frightening, to think that I would have to cram that inside of me on so many occasions in the future. OK, I'm a big girl. I can handle that. Dilating is exceedingly important, and I won't let it go.

Dr. Suporn's visit mostly consisted of him telling me that it was rather nice that I arrived in such good health--good diet and exercise, etc. All five procedures done during the 11 hours on the operating table went as smoothly as could be.

I spent the rest of the day chatting away at all who entered my room, and listening to my CD player when I was alone.

I had such a wonderful day.

Journal entry--18 October, 2001 (day seven post-op)

I slept very well again (must be those little blue sleeping pills <g>), and dreamt again that I was pre-op. That makes waking up so good! I rolled over and promptly went back to sleep for another hour and did not awake again until Namthip came in to jab me in the rear.

She is always so cheerful! And so petite and feminine. But rather than allow myself gloom on knowing that I will never be as much of a girl as she, I instead allow her cheerfulness to infect me. It is so nice to be woken by such a cheery face.

I wanted to chat, but realized that again I have the bandages on my face. She took them off for me, and I noticed straight away that some of the swelling had subsided. At least enough to notice! The worst was over and I was improving.

My packing was to be taken out today. I brought along the book "Mirror Image," by Nancy Hunt, in which she stated that her packing came out when she was under general anesthetic and unconscious, since it was supposedly too painful to endure otherwise. Yet I was to have it done just as is! I was not in pain, but rang for pain medication anyway. I had been avoiding pain meds for several days because I was in such good health, so they did not complain about pain med abuse.

However, Dr. Suporn came in quite early--before the nurse came in with the pain meds. I wanted to hide the fact that I was taking them from Suporn, but too late!

Yikes. Two minutes after I took the pills, he was ready, but the meds had not kicked in!

I laid down and gripped the sides of the bed until my knuckles were white. He cut a few bandages and started pulling out about 40 feet or so of cloth ribbon that was spiraled inside of me. It did not hurt at all; in fact, I had never sensed anything quite like it. I could feel every inch of the walls of the vagina, and that rolled up ribbon being pulled out of me was the weirdest sensation ever. Not bad at all, really.

The catheter came out next. OK, I was about to do my usual gripping of the bed in order to grin and bear it, but too late, it was out before I was ready--no pain, just a quick yank and it was out. I had been concerned that since my urethra had been cut short and repositioned, and the fact that I had not consciously used it for a week (I just constantly leaked into a bag without having to think about continence), that I would have to learn to pee all over again. However, I was told that for the first few days at least, that I would just naturally pee all over.

After getting cleaned up, I was ready to start dilating. Suporn pulled out that hideous stent and prepped it for me. He showed me to put a condom on it, and then coat it with jelly. He then gave it to me so that I could put it in myself.

What? I don't even know what angle to try. He helped with the angle, but it was up to me to push it in. OK, I survived. He put a ruler over me to document the depth--I was seven inches deep.

He then gave me a series of photos of my SRS op from start to finish--10 altogether, and many not for the weak at heart! It showed the vivisection of my penis and the removal and discard of the internal tissue. It also showed the frame that the vaginal lining was built upon, and showed that my depth would indeed be seven inches--quite surprising, since I had so little to work with, but that is the beauty of a scrotal graft--that skin can be stretched significantly prior to assembling the lining.

The schedule for dilating was two hours, twice daily, for the first three weeks.

As I laid there after he had gone, the nurses removed the sutures from my face.

Later in the day, I eagerly walked around the floor of the hospital, getting out of the room for the first time since the op. This was embarrassing, though, since I tended to leak blood, and the back of my skirts tended to be stained.

I dilated myself later in the day. Afterwards, you shower using a red anti-biotic soap, douche with betadine and water, and then let a nurse paint your wounds with full strength betadine.

When the 10:00PM bedtime came, I was too wide awake and in the middle of a movie. The nurse suggested that I take all of the pills now, with the exception of the sleeping pill--take that right as I am ready, since it works quickly. The movie was over at 10:30 and I was eager for the next day--I would be discharged from the hospital!

Journal entry--19 - 29 October, 2001 (post-op in Pattaya)

I awoke before the 6:00 AM onslaught of nurses, and began packing. One of the last things that they did was to weigh me--I came in at 60 something kilos. I knew that I weighed a lot more than that a few weeks ago. But I had only been nibbling at the meals each time and then giving up on them.

I finished packing at least two hours before I was to leave the hospital--I was eager to leave, even though I will have very fond memories of my stay here in room 905 of the Aikchol Hospital.

It was Nat (Natta Klomklau) who was the staff member who met me at 12:00 noon to escort me to Pattaya. She is a post-op too. I said my good-byes to everyone and could hardly sit still as they wheeled me in my chair to the waiting taxi. The ride took about 45 minutes, and when we arrived, the streets were flooded, and water was pouring off of the rooftops--we just missed a heavy storm.

For ten days, I recuperated at the Royal Palace Hotel. Nat came by daily to check on my wounds, keep me company, liaise with the doctor, take me shopping, etc. There were also two British post-ops healing there as well. The four of us kept each other company.

There is much to do in Pattaya--it is a resort town on the beach, and also happens to be a haven for TV's and TS's. The percentage of the population that are post-ops is pretty high. Nat is a show girl at Simon's, and we watched her show--most of the other women in the show were post-ops as well.

I found a little internet café, and was able to log on for about an hour a day. The remainder of the day was spent dilating and doing other maintenance procedures, eating, a bit of shopping, and sleeping 10 hours a day. That one hour for surfing the 'net was sometimes hard to schedule.

But, as interesting as it was to "rest" in a Thai resort town, I was just too eager to get back home and get on with life.

This little trip to Thailand was real sweet, and I'll never forget it. I had been looking forward to it for sooo long.

My tenants did not treat me any differently when I got back, but instead asked if they could remain tenants for a good while longer--I was the best landlord ever. And I brought back a ton of goodies from Thailand for the kids. I am back at work now, and there seems to be no real change here. The only major difference--I feel so much better about myself.

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