Eye-eye

I wasn't expecting to have any thing much to update this week, as on Thursday I went into hospital for what was my 6th and hopefully last eye operation. For those who don't know I've been having a lot of trouble with them for about 2 years, but now my right eye is stable and I can see very well through it with my glasses on. My left eye I have very little sight at all in, although it has improved slightly since this operation so fingers crossed that will also become stable now. I'll spare you the gore and details of the operation, besides it has not much to do with this blog's subject.

Now before I explain what happened on my overnight stay in hospital I need to give you a little background. In April I received a letter from the hospital saying my check up appointment for May had been cancelled. This letter was addressed to Mr. Jo Xxx. I didn't think a lot of it at the time, although normally all my medical letters are addressed to Mr. Joseph William Xxx. Nearly 2 months later I went to my GP and suddenly realised they too had change my name on my records to Mr. Jo Xxx. Odd I thought, I wondered if somewhere along the line they'd made some changes to my records due to me starting on the long road of changing gender, although I'd never specified to any doctor or counsellor what I was planning to change my name to. I enquired with my GP why it had been changed, he didn't know. Although I wasn't bothered about it being changed, I would have like to have been told about it in advance to avoid any sticky situations. I think my GP may even have changed it back now.

So anyway back to the hospital, where my records have all been changed to Jo. I was more worried about my operation that what they were calling me. Well until I came round in the recovery room. Now you have to remember I was drugged up on morphine and just coming round from the anaesthetic, but I overheard them on the phone discussing something about my bed, and they might have to send me home because the only bed they had was in a male bay and that wouldn't be suitable so they were going to try and put me in my own room. Now despite my discombobulated state I figured out maybe they knew, maybe it was in my records. So up on the ward, I noticed the nurses weren't quite sure what was going on with me, and also they avoided calling me either he or she and just referring to me as Jo. I just wanted to know what they knew about me so I could work out what to tell them, because I was just expecting to be treated as a male patient, because for now I suppose that's exactly what I am. I was also a little worried about what might happen when my parents visited me that evening, although that didn't last long because I was due another dose of morphine, funny how nothing really mattered after that. I wanted to talk to one of the nurses about things but despite my previous stays I didn't know any of them, so I decided not to.

Fortunately the night staff haven't changed and one of them I know pretty well, we'd talked quite a lot on my other visits. She's been a nurse for 30 odd years, so I bet she's seen it all. So I decided to bite the bullet and asked her what she knew about me. She confirmed that yes it was on my records that I have been being treated for 'gender issues'. This is what happens when all NHS records are centrally held on one database, I suppose. We had a chat for a bit about things, and I guess it put my mind at rest a bit, finally knowing yes it's on my records. At least I know what to expect. Although I still don't know if my funding has been approved, it's been six weeks now.

Things are changing, I'm going to have to think carefully about when I'm going to tell my family, because sooner or later something is going to out me whether I'm ready or not, and it would be better if they found out from me. It's not going to happen yet, but it is going to have to happen.

Another Year Older.

Firstly I forgot to mention a couple of important events in my last post. Just before I had my last lot of eye ops last year, I plucked up the courage to tell 2 of my sisters. I don't feel I could trust my eldest sister with this sort of thing. I wrote them both a letter and gave it them at the same time. I felt it was better to tell them together, because then they could talk to each other about it, and it wouldn't feel like such a burden of knowledge for one of them. They took it pretty well, and have said they're supportive, but even now 10 months on I still don't really feel I can talk to them about it. I guess this is just a symptom of the way our family was brought up, but I do feel happy knowing when the time comes to tell the 'more difficult' members of the family I will at least have some support from within the family as well as from my friends.

The second thing was towards the end of last year my girlfriend and I decided that things probably weren't going to work out long term, and we 'sort of' split up. We still see each other quite a bit and we are very much still friends. I think this was the important thing. I think the longer things went on, the more strained things would have become. Right now I don't really need the responsibility of a relationship, especially as I am really not sure about myself and my sexuality. Only time will tell how this works out and how I'll feel once I am more comfortable with my body and who I am.

OK now on to current events. I am still waiting to hear from the PCT about whether they have approved my funding or not, the longer it goes on the more nervous I get about it having been rejected. Especially after a report that my local PCT overspent by £13 million last year. It's been almost 5 weeks now.

After experimenting with a few different sizes and styles of breast forms over the past few years and not being overly happy with any of them. I decided it was time to bite the bullet and go and have a proper fitting for some proper mastectomy ones. They were very expensive, but overall they'll probably be well worth the money especially when I eventually get to spending more and more time 'en femme' I'll have a while to get used to them before the next TREC meeting I can attend. They've changed the week, time and also the location of them meetings, which is not great for me. I had to miss the one last week because I had a family gathering, and I doubt I'll make the next one as I will be recovering from my eye op. Oh well.

So yes as I touched on there I'm going back into hospital on Thursday for what will fingers crossed be my final eye op. Not feeling too nervous, I'm used to it by now. I just want it sorted then I can concentrate on finding employment where I actually get paid for doing.

So now on to what this entry is really about, and what I've been procrastinating from writing about. So it's my birthday on Tuesday, woo-yay! and all that. I'm too old for birthdays i.e. I'm over 30. So last night it was arranged I would go out for a few birthday drinks after we'd been to the rugby. 'We' being 2 lads I went to college with and about half a dozen of their friends whom I know but not well. Now I told all my college friends early last year, and to be honest none of them took it all that well. One or two reacted the 'what the fuck get away from me you freak' way. Most sort of remained not committal with their opinions, but we began to drift apart seeing less and less of each other, so I knew they weren't exactly 'OK' with it. Rugby matches being about the exception where we'd still meet up, have a few drinks and a natter, about superficial things.

I just never in a million years thought they'd ever be as cruel and thoughtless as one of them was last night. After the match we were in the pub, it was packed with other rugby fans. We lost so you could feel there was a bit of an atmosphere of discontent in there. I've absolutely no idea what happened next or why. Yes, we'd all been drinking but that's no excuse. I don't know exactly what was said, I was too shocked to take things in, but basically one of my college 'friends' decided for some reason to have a bit of a go at me, and then out me to this group of people I hardly know. I was mortified, I didn't know whether to run away, cry, try to deny it, get angry and fight back, or what. So I just stood there, and took it. These people thought it was hilarious, fortunately the rest of the pub didn't take any notice or just maybe things could have been more ugly. So needless to say I soon made a hasty retreat, to various comments. This is probably the first major hostility I've faced, and sadly I doubt it will be the last. Like I said it's hard to describe what happened, my mind was all over the place and it's all just a horrible blur.

I just feel rather deflated and confused today, and feeling a little bit more untrusting of people, I guess.