Well, I finally got off my rear and scheduled my mammogram appointment for Monday. It’s actually in an easier hospital to get to for me and I don’t have to navigate the congested maze of hospitals located around the (Cincinnati) downtown medical center. Plus I won’t have to walk as far.
Yesterday, I also left a message with my endocrinologist asking her if she ever received my blood test labs which measure the estradiol (synthetic estrogen) and testosterone levels in my body. I have not heard back yet from her. One way or another it’s not earth shattering because I am not trying to do anything very dramatic. Also, going through my Doc is the safest way to go.
Changing subjects here, the very crowded Democratic primary seems to keep adding people many of us have never heard of. Certain groups through are attempting to sort through all the political BS to give us a deeper look into the candidates. In fact, Democratic candidates will be facing off on LGBTQ issues in a forum this fall. It’s a long read, but you can go here to check it out. It helped me to at least put ideas with names for a change.
The event is scheduled for October 10th, which coincides with the “National Coming Out Day.”
Yesterday I went with my partner Liz to her Doctor’s appointment and felt good. The wait is normally short and I fool around on my phone and people watch.
For a change, my Mtf Gender Dysphoria was at a low point, so I felt good about myself presenting as a trans woman in public. One would think, as much and as long I have lived full time, all anxieties would begin to diminish. And, for a change, they have.
For the most part yesterday, my interactions were all with other women since Liz’s Doctor is in a University of Cincinnati women’s health center. For all I know they could have thought I was there for any number of issues except pregnancy. However, if I don’t continue to walk and control what I eat, I might be looking like I am pregnant anyhow.
Speaking of women’s health issues, I better get my mammogram scheduled. My maternal grandmother passed from breast cancer in the 1950’s so a precedent has been set in my family to get it done. My latest excuse is we are down to one car and I have to be careful to schedule it around my other medical appointments, as well as Liz’s.
Again the whole deal is part of being a woman and I need to get it done.
Finally, I have not heard back from my endocrinologist concerning the possibility of increasing my HRT. I did how ever, receive an extra dosage of Estrogen (Estrodial) patches from the VA, so maybe I have been approved but just not told yet.
Yesterday as I mentioned before here in Cyrsti’s Condo, was my monthly visit to my therapist. The session went as expected with extra emphasis on Veteran’s Administration mandated surveys they are over prone on occasion to give out. The surveys basically delved into potential depression and it’s results.
We also went into the Trans Ohio Symposium information I recently received and I am scheduled to present one of the first workshops on Saturday morning. I laughed I would potentially still be hung over from the attendee mixer the night before which we always attend at Columbus, Ohio’s Club Diversity. Liz and I always safely Uber about the city on our pre-destined trips to alcoholic venues.
My therapist and I also talked about my trip to visit my vacant property in Springfield to pick up any litter as needed. It turns out no upkeep was needed.
As it turned out, when I checked out comments to the blog this morning, Connie had a different idea of the visit:
“Maybe I can save you a trip to the therapist (or give you something to talk to the therapist about). Have you considered that the littered vacant lot could represent your past – experiences you lived, but now wish would just go away?
I think, when we transition, we may be anxious to be rid of the male persona in favor of a new totally-feminine existence. All of our past experiences culminate into who we are, though. In the (long) process of transitioning, I believe that it’s impossible to vacate our pasts, but we do begin to view them from a different perspective. Although there may be much that litters our past, the important things, like close personal relationships, can’t be ignored.
Today is my first daughter’s 40th birthday (how can that be, when I am still in my 40’s?). 🙂 I have been reminiscing about her this morning, and, although I wouldn’t ever want to forget anything about her, there are some not-so-great things that litter my memories – the time when she was about eleven, and accidentally caught me cross dressed, being one of the most regrettable. We can’t erase anything, but we can pick up the pieces and try to put them into a new perspective.
There are plenty of other things from my past – good and bad – that I will never forget, but I certainly don’t talk about them as I might have years ago. Sitting around with a bunch of guys (even if they are in dresses), trading stories in a one-up-man-ship manner, is just not appealing to me these days. It only ever was because I was so into the overcompensation game of hiding my femininity with demonstrations of hyper-masculinity. Oh, how silly I now see myself to have been!
I often refer to the AA Serenity Prayer, because it seems to sum up my transgender existence:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, And wisdom to know the difference.”
I had a pleasant surprise yesterday. My partner Liz and I were invited out for “Happy Hour” Margaritas with a woman friend of hers at a nearby Mexican Restaurant.
The invite turned out to be a happy two hours of chit chat. We basically talked about the direction of the spiritual social group we are in. Which included future meetups, Cincinnati Pride and the Witches Ball.
All went well and I enjoyed being included in “How are you ladies doing today.” And being called “Mam” by the male server. I don’t think it will ever get old.
Changing the subject, tonight is the support group meeting of Crossport , the transgender – cross dresser group I am a member of. Normally, always something interesting comes fro it. Tonight is the big preparation night for Friday’s clothing swap which we are doing in conjunction with another transgender group here in town. Last year I found a purple leather fringed purse I gave to Liz since her favorite color is purple. It will be interesting if I can find anything nice this year.
What I really want to say tonight is (and I won’t), can certain members stop the stories of their old male muscle car antics. Or at least come up with some new ones. I just don’t understand why some of these people want to glorify their old male existence as much as they do. A percentage of them though are cross dressers who still live in the male world. Perhaps it helps them to keep one foot in that world even though they are dressed feminine. I know years ago when I was exploring the impossible dream of coming out of my closet, I did close to the same thing.
Now I just want to forget most of what I did back then would just go away.
Speaking or going away, tomorrow is my monthly therapist visit. On the way, I am going to stop by the old vacant lot I still own to see if anyone has been littering it. I have been putting it off, so it’s finally time to take care of any issues which may have cropped up. If I can.
Finally, before I forget. I hope you all have a great week!
Unless you are considerably better read on transgender affairs than I am, you probably don’t recognize the name. I didn’t until she burst into my conscience this morning on the CBS Sunday Morning Show.
As I was getting ready to undertake my Sunday morning chores (including a blog post…a fun chore) I paused to watch the “Opinion” segment of the show.
All of a sudden, host Jane Pauley was talking about resident rumps’ position on blocking transgender troops from serving. Then, she introduced Charlotte Clymer, a real transgender veteran.
I probably don’t have to tell you what happened next. Charlotte proceeded to lay out her military experience explaining how when she folded a flag as an honor for a troop who paid the ultimate sacrifice, it didn’t matter if the person was white, black, gay or straight and finally transgender or not.
Of course she went on to point out “commander bone spurs” (rump) didn’t serve at all. Plus, rump was going against some of his top military generals who favored trans service.
I saw this literally about an hour ago. Approximately 10:15 AM, Eastern Standard Time.
I am also offering a video link to watch it, if it is still available,
Obviously, positive/strong opinions like Charlotte’s are hard to come by and so needed!
I just received a message my workshop proposal for the Trans Ohio Symposium has been accepted. The symposium takes place this year again at THE Ohio State University Student Union center from April 26th through the 28th. I will find out later in the week when my workshop is scheduled.
As you may (or may not remember) my subject matter will center around navigating through severe Mtf Gender Dysphoria. (suicidal)
The whole weekend is beginning to come together for Liz and I. A week ago we secured a hotel reservation at a nice venue close enough to the campus which provides a free shuttle service to the union. Then, a couple days ago I reserved a rental car for the two hundred mile trip to and back from Cincinnati to Columbus for the symposium. Which saves extra wear and tear on the only high mileage car we have left. The other self destructed a couple weeks ago when the timing belt broke. Plus, we won’t have to worry about an untimely breakdown on the trip.
Now I have to concentrate on “fleshing” out the workshop proposal I sent. Fortunately, a trans friend of mine brought back a helpful little booklet I could use from the “Keystone Conference” in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania not long ago. It’s a great “cheat sheet” or for those of you who remember, a version of”Cliffs Notes” on transgender issues.
I really need to do a better job of presenting this year than last year…no crying!
Before I conclude this post, I would like to say hello to Angie in Kentucky!
Or, things to do while I happen to be transgender. Mentally, I don’t make the separation much anymore. To me, I am just me, presenting feminine after so many years in gender hell. On occasion though, I will pause and look back on what a long strange trip it has been. I even considered posting my one and only “before” picture with this post but I won’t since it causes me to remember back to so many painful days.
At any rate, we are supposed to have a good Spring weather weekend around here for a change, so it’s time to dig through my wardrobe and pull out a few suitable outfits.
Friday night is the monthly dinner and music social with the cross dressers – transgender group I am a part of. I will have to check the weather but I might be able to get away with just a light sweater with jeans or leggings. I have a powder blue sweater Liz gave me that goes great with leggings and actuates my figure. I may have to break down and wear a bra with it though because it gets a bit “nipply” if you look at me from the wrong angle. I just don’t like to wear bras, preferring a more “natural” feel. The lighting where we go is normally low, so I should be able to wear the outfit without a jacket and do fine.
Saturday (as always} is errand day. We start with Liz’s martial arts class where she just became a recommended black belt and then go to the grocery store. This week though, we have another meeting for the Witches Ball Committee, which should be interesting because the head person quit in protest. So everyone will have to step up and take more responsibility. So far, my deal is being in charge of our Cincinnati Pride table. Not too bad.
Finally Sunday, we hope to get a head start on the yard and work outside. Boring but needed activity.
My trip to the endocrinologist was certainly uneventful, until I met my sugar daddy afterwards. My Doc was OK with my request to increase my estrodial and perhaps decrease my testosterone. As we talked, I said I was satisfied where I was with my feminization process but then again feel like I hit a wall. So, her (the Doc’s) answer was maybe my testosterone was creeping up again and let’s get it checked. So, off I went to get the proper blood labs done.
I knew my day was going too good when the 75 mile trip up to the medical center was very easy for a change, I found a parking spot and the wait was minimal. By this time, it was past noon and I hoped the wait at the blood labs would be minimal too…wrong, the room was packed, standing room only almost for a seat. I settled in to lose an hour of my life I would never get back.
As I sat there, a short time later, an older gentleman, well dressed with a straw hat sat down across the room. I didn’t give him much thought except you don’t see many guys at the VA who bother to dress up at all.
Approximately fifteen minutes later, he got up to go to the restroom and lost his seat. He then ended up sitting across from me. He was busily talking to a couple of other guys about the March Madness basketball games and was leaving me alone, for awhile. Then he said “Mam” what branch of the service did I serve in? I told him the Army and the chat was on. I found out he served in the Army in the mid 60’s in Panama, was 75, retired but still flipped houses for a living.
By that time, he had decided to quit talking to the other guys and turn his attention to me and all the time used the proper pronouns so I felt secure in the conversation. I had to be careful though not to out myself.
If I mentioned at all I was drafted, that would do it. Of course women weren’t drafted into the service. On the fly I needed to make up a story about how I got into the military, or slightly twist the facts. Or shut up. I chose the latter but on the way home came up with a more palatable way of explaining what I did in the military.
To start with, some of you Cyrsti’s Condo regulars know, I was assigned to the American Forces Radio and Television Service (AFRTS). So, I actually worked for the Air Force for one year and the Army for two years. So, I could say I was almost a contract worker for the military. At least it may work in a pinch when I get into an in depth conversation with someone who I don’t want to automatically out myself with.
I must be getting dramatically better with my over all transgender presentation though. This makes the second time in a row other men have called me by the right pronouns and wanted to talk while I was waiting to give blood. Years ago, I was called a “fagg–t” in the same room.
Times do change, and if my blood comes back the right way, maybe I can change it a little bit faster.
Since it is our local Cincinnati Transgender Day of Visibility, perhaps it’s time to discuss what visibility really means.
Many would consider me to be really visible since I live full time as a trans woman. Sometimes I am and sometimes I am not. When and if I am successful in blending in seamlessly as a woman in society, I am not visible at all. Then, at other times I am in and out of another person’s reality so quickly, I am barely visible to them either. Maybe later they think there maybe have been something a little off kilter with their encounter with me. By that time though, I am long gone from their reality.
How about you though? Can you be visible and still be in your closet? Sure you can. Maybe you bide your time and support silently pro LGBTQ political candidates and laws. Who knows when you will need them? Plus, what about the gender fluid kids who are new in the system, they need our help.
Finally, is the church you go to anti gay and transgender or do you still support businesses such as Chick – Fil – A or Hobby Lobby who are actively involved in erasing our very existence.
You see, there is plenty to do to stay visible even though you may not be in the public’s eye
My endocrinologist appointment is coming up on Monday after Sunday’s Transgender Day of Visibility.
Hopefully, I am not expecting a whole lot of drama. I think I might ask to have my estrodial increased a little bit which I don’t think she (the nurse practitioner) will do until she sees a new set of blood labs. But I will still try.
I have written before how I think I have pretty much “hit the wall” with my feminization process. I believe too, with the time I have been on HRT (approx. five years) I could have reached my maximum expectations as far as feminization goes.
It’s my personality though to keep asking for more. Primarily in my hips. I also think my overall body hair has made a slight rebound which of course I don’t want.
Actually, I am just whining and I think this is all coming along according to plan and I know too the whole process can take up to seven years. I know also, much is dependent on me to lose a few pounds again before summer to give me a better overall figure in a couple of my fave form fitting maxi dresses.
I read lots of books, from mythology retellings to literary fiction and I love to reread books from childhood, this is a place to voice my thoughts for fun. I also like to ramble about things such as art or nature every now and again.