12.27, Angela is sleeping fitfully,she has been in bad pain today and even the slightest movement is very difficult.
We saw the surgeon Dr Danial, yesterday and he explained the chronic swelling over her right eye was caused by heavy bleeding in the op, apparently she bled more then most people and it slowed down all the procedures and contributed to this especially nasty oedema.
We are meant to be discharged today, but I remain unconvinced that she is well enough to be moved. Even the slightest motion makes her feel very unwell, how will I get her in a cab and up into the room. She has been on intravenous pain killers for the last 36 hours; How will she cope on one tablet every 8 hours back in the hotel? I think she needs stronger medication than that. Perhaps I am fretting, all the staff feel my concern and Angela's suffering is normal after such a lengthy and aggressive procedure, but it doesn't stop me fretting.
Th nose surgeon Dr Kai o'Kay and Dr Danial are visiting at 16.00. Dr Khai is going to removing the dressing from her nose. By all accounts the removal of the "packing" from her nasal cavities is extremely painful but should offer some relief. Hopefully she will be able to breathe better. I do hope so.
Earlier I went down to the cafeteria in the Hospital as A wanted a cold fresh drink, in there I bumped into Juan the nurse. Juan attended to Angela, before the op and is a tall, typical spanish hunk, he is I think gay and such a total sweetheart, sunny and intelligent, with exceptional English language skills, my day instantly brightened when I saw him at the counter. He beamed at me and beckoned me over to sit beside him and we chatted at length about the ffs, recovery, issues of trangenderism and feeling different. I hope I see him again as I would like to invite him to Newcastle for a holiday to meet our friends. it was wonderful to see his smiling face.
For now I am sitting writing this and hoping they keep her in for another night, just for the pain to subside.
Angela's elderly Mum phoned yesterday and was tearful and concerned on the phone at how I would manage in the hotel and seemed consoled that we had an apartment not just a room. So I could cook soup and stuff for A and get her settled. I did feel though that Edith was correctly worried about such an early discharge following such a long operation.
In a week I feel confident that Angela will be feeling stronger and more comfortable. Poor poppet.
We have both noticeably lost weight, due to lack of food and worrying I think.
Thursday, 5 August 2010
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
"I bet all the nurses fancy me" she rattled.
Well it was a restless night with nurses in and out, draining the catheter bag etc. She didn't stop vomiting blood clots for quite a few hours and snoring like she was on her death bed, a kind of apnoea combined with a hideous death rattle.
At 9am this morning, from the third floor room we are using, I can see the seafront with a fine dull grey coastal mist settled over the slaty waters and nodding boats. The streets are empty and it's clearly going to be a beautiful summer's day. Angela's nausea has now passed and she is just sore and exhausted. Speaking is very difficult due to the various sets of stitches inside her mouth, the constrictive effect of the dressing from the rhinoplasty (they broke her nose), her badly swollen lips and the effect of the cold mask. I can see that her brow is very different but cannot tell how good an outcome she has, we know that the jaw work will be largely invisible until, she has a facelift in six months to remove the loose skin. I can tell from the tip of her nose, peeping through bloody gauze that it is very different, smaller and repositioned.
If she was going to really suffer, then was it last night.
The clinic's nursing staff were exemplary, despite many of the girls not speaking English. It was not a problem.
I told her when she came round if she said
"I bet all the nurses fancy me"
I'd know she was a bullshitter"
She's giggled twice at my predictable jokes. All will be well.
It's just going to be a case of slowly getting her back onto oral fluids and waiting for the swelling to go down.
I'd still like a cup of tea.
At 9am this morning, from the third floor room we are using, I can see the seafront with a fine dull grey coastal mist settled over the slaty waters and nodding boats. The streets are empty and it's clearly going to be a beautiful summer's day. Angela's nausea has now passed and she is just sore and exhausted. Speaking is very difficult due to the various sets of stitches inside her mouth, the constrictive effect of the dressing from the rhinoplasty (they broke her nose), her badly swollen lips and the effect of the cold mask. I can see that her brow is very different but cannot tell how good an outcome she has, we know that the jaw work will be largely invisible until, she has a facelift in six months to remove the loose skin. I can tell from the tip of her nose, peeping through bloody gauze that it is very different, smaller and repositioned.
If she was going to really suffer, then was it last night.
The clinic's nursing staff were exemplary, despite many of the girls not speaking English. It was not a problem.
I told her when she came round if she said
"I bet all the nurses fancy me"
I'd know she was a bullshitter"
She's giggled twice at my predictable jokes. All will be well.
It's just going to be a case of slowly getting her back onto oral fluids and waiting for the swelling to go down.
I'd still like a cup of tea.
Tuesday, 3 August 2010
A swell kinda night
It is 2.37 am,
she is back now, it was a long long wait, she is very poorly with a hydrating drip
a drip for nausea and a lot of pain relief,she looks car crashed, her left eye is like a plum, she is unrecognizable due to the swelling.
After vomiting blood clots for a few minutes and then being treated and cleaned up by the nurses, she started to drift in and out of sleep. it was going to be a long night...the cold mask makes a soothing hum and by all accounts will reduce the swelling in the course of the night.
I would like a cup of tea.
I have no doubt she will look a million dollars but right now she looks like a million Lira... poor Angela.
she is back now, it was a long long wait, she is very poorly with a hydrating drip
a drip for nausea and a lot of pain relief,she looks car crashed, her left eye is like a plum, she is unrecognizable due to the swelling.
After vomiting blood clots for a few minutes and then being treated and cleaned up by the nurses, she started to drift in and out of sleep. it was going to be a long night...the cold mask makes a soothing hum and by all accounts will reduce the swelling in the course of the night.
I would like a cup of tea.
I have no doubt she will look a million dollars but right now she looks like a million Lira... poor Angela.
Three Magi bring great news
22.32, my stomach is in knots and my friends on Facebook are keeping me from going demented. The nurse had just told me in broken English that Angela would be another two hours.
Then ten minutes later the two maxiofaial surgeons who did her brow and chin work came to see me! All three, are young, handsome, accomplished men. They reassured me that it had all gone very well, and her frontal jaw had not needed shaving, and talked me through how they had just removed the muscle that created the fleshy pad with the dimple on her chin. All three embraced me. We chatted about the intricacies of their "work"
"You'll like her new chin" they said
"I liked it before" I replied, smiling. Feeling foolish in holiday makers red cotton shorts and t-shirt withe pen mark on it.
then feebly claimed
"As long as she is happy, I will be happy".
I feel so inutterably sad, I loved her beautiful face, I embrace her happiness but feel a sense of loss. Is this selfish of me? Probably.
They had with them a Facial surgeon from Brazil who had come to watch the procedure as a training exercise and who had offered to take pictures.
So six hours in, and Dr Kai from Granada is now starting her rhinoplasty. I feel sick with worry. I can hear a man down the corridor moaning in pain, the corridors are noisy with busy staff, rattling trolleys, rooms being moved around. Somewhere in Marbella there was an emergency today and it caused some problems, even the plastic surgeons were called to assist. If I have had a long day, God knows how tired they are.
Then ten minutes later the two maxiofaial surgeons who did her brow and chin work came to see me! All three, are young, handsome, accomplished men. They reassured me that it had all gone very well, and her frontal jaw had not needed shaving, and talked me through how they had just removed the muscle that created the fleshy pad with the dimple on her chin. All three embraced me. We chatted about the intricacies of their "work"
"You'll like her new chin" they said
"I liked it before" I replied, smiling. Feeling foolish in holiday makers red cotton shorts and t-shirt withe pen mark on it.
then feebly claimed
"As long as she is happy, I will be happy".
I feel so inutterably sad, I loved her beautiful face, I embrace her happiness but feel a sense of loss. Is this selfish of me? Probably.
They had with them a Facial surgeon from Brazil who had come to watch the procedure as a training exercise and who had offered to take pictures.
So six hours in, and Dr Kai from Granada is now starting her rhinoplasty. I feel sick with worry. I can hear a man down the corridor moaning in pain, the corridors are noisy with busy staff, rattling trolleys, rooms being moved around. Somewhere in Marbella there was an emergency today and it caused some problems, even the plastic surgeons were called to assist. If I have had a long day, God knows how tired they are.
waiting
it is 21.48 here and Angela went down to the operating room at 1600 hours, I popped out earlier for tapas and coffee and sat on the promenade and watched young people in the distance on a huge inflatable playing volleyball, they would catch the ball with their feet and flip over two or three times, then with the ease of simians, flip the ball back over the net for another young bronzed slip of youth to flick the ball back with the tips of a moving hand. I was being texted by well meaning friends and I watched every minute of time move in slow motion.
I wondered at the total carefreeness of those around me, the sun was warm - hibiscus and rhododendron where pinking the banks of earth beneath huge palm trees, it was bliss but the joy was hollow like a painted empty tin. I was just waiting and waiting to get Angela back in one piece. Safe.
5 hours now
waiting
tick tock
tick tock
I wondered at the total carefreeness of those around me, the sun was warm - hibiscus and rhododendron where pinking the banks of earth beneath huge palm trees, it was bliss but the joy was hollow like a painted empty tin. I was just waiting and waiting to get Angela back in one piece. Safe.
5 hours now
waiting
tick tock
tick tock
Of course it's not goodbye
When we turned up today for the op, we had no room, the private hospital had been taking in emergencies, and we had to prepare in a temporary room, it was very clean and bright and well equipped, all the nursing staff, with their varying degrees of English were exceptional, but it did mean that I could not unpack or go and buy essential supplies, such as straws, medicated shampoo, rubbing alcohol. bruising cream, as I had planned. I was also very hungry and wanted a cup of coffee, to feed my caffeine addiction.
With a post it note on her willy saying (wrong procedure)Angela went down to theatre about an hour ago, she had been crying on and off all morning, and was extremely frightened, (a certain amount of drama queendom doth prevail) but it is scary and the procedures are without a doubt quite alarming. I would not like my face, sawed, and chipped and screwed back together.
In one spell of distress this morning, she was sobbing and saying, "Why does this have to be me facing this"... I comforted her, "we are the truly lucky ones"
and all I could think of was all the transgirls, out there working as sex workers or only being able to dream of the luxury of Facial Feminisation. It's a harsh reality when intrusive aggressive theater is the the only recourse to your gender dysphoria and each step seems such an extreme.
I am sitting in this empty room, listening to the Spanish nursing staff chatting brightly and speedily, and Angela is somewhere in the building getting her face taken apart, I feel afraid, and the next 6 hours seems like a long stretch and the future seems like The Russian Steppes or a great vast prairie where I know there are borders to other countries but I cannot see them, yet.
We were well prepared, we know, the next couple of days will be dark, we have spoken to other previous patients and done a lot of background research we know the team is of a high standard and she is in safe hands. She spent the last 48 hours writing a long letter to her daughter, just in case the worse things happens....which we know won't happen, but t doesn't stop the fear I suppose...
I just don't like to think of Angela in pain, she is my best friend... I have a two bride wedding blessing to arrange and I want her to look like the happiest woman in the world. I want her to look in the mirror and say
"Look that's actually me".
With a post it note on her willy saying (wrong procedure)Angela went down to theatre about an hour ago, she had been crying on and off all morning, and was extremely frightened, (a certain amount of drama queendom doth prevail) but it is scary and the procedures are without a doubt quite alarming. I would not like my face, sawed, and chipped and screwed back together.
In one spell of distress this morning, she was sobbing and saying, "Why does this have to be me facing this"... I comforted her, "we are the truly lucky ones"
and all I could think of was all the transgirls, out there working as sex workers or only being able to dream of the luxury of Facial Feminisation. It's a harsh reality when intrusive aggressive theater is the the only recourse to your gender dysphoria and each step seems such an extreme.
I am sitting in this empty room, listening to the Spanish nursing staff chatting brightly and speedily, and Angela is somewhere in the building getting her face taken apart, I feel afraid, and the next 6 hours seems like a long stretch and the future seems like The Russian Steppes or a great vast prairie where I know there are borders to other countries but I cannot see them, yet.
We were well prepared, we know, the next couple of days will be dark, we have spoken to other previous patients and done a lot of background research we know the team is of a high standard and she is in safe hands. She spent the last 48 hours writing a long letter to her daughter, just in case the worse things happens....which we know won't happen, but t doesn't stop the fear I suppose...
I just don't like to think of Angela in pain, she is my best friend... I have a two bride wedding blessing to arrange and I want her to look like the happiest woman in the world. I want her to look in the mirror and say
"Look that's actually me".
Pre-op procedures and palm trees
We flew out to Marbella on Sunday lunchtime with Easy jet, it was an uneventful flight and Angela and I barely spoke, we were reading, Angela was immersed in A life in two genders by Jenny Boylan and I in a memoir of Catholic misery called The God Squad by Paddy Doyle... ironically both books concern remarkable journeys made by brave individuals who have been marginalised by society and through no fault of their own..... Paddy and Jenny both speak out in order to help others who are affected by "issues of otherness". Angela and I are going ahead with this difficult chapter of her life as she cannot live as The Outsider - feeling different is not a cause for celebration in the aisles of ASDA or in a swimming pool when Joe Normal is scrutinising you.
We have both been quiet, and Angela, has been teary and fearful, I imagine it is the tension, a fear of an unsatisfactory outcome, a dread of pain...we are going through the same process as any normal couple would follow for a romantic sunshine and sangria type holiday, double checking passports, caryying round vats of sun block... except that is not the purpose of the trip; our aim is to get Angela's face feminised. (please see previous blogs for details of the surgery)
On Sunday night, we walked along the seafront, with all the Spanish holiday makers, it was a text book seaside idyll, the Mediterranean smells of lemon, garlicky seafood and olive oil. the sound of the sea, rolling like the chants of time, surging over and over. The breeze warm and balmy. Sitting at a low key sea front cafe, later in the evening, amidst dowdy, stern faced Spanish Matriarchs and young Spanish well mannered families on the beach. We were drinking San Miguel and eating paella, several times as we walked through the langerous and laid back crowds we overheard people whisper "Hombre", we felt like any two women alone, but this type of snipe and the the occasional quizzical glances belied the fact we were not like any other couple.
We talked late into the evening about what would happen if she died, where I would go and whether I would cope. We talked of our lives so far and what we hoped for. We seem to be so overshadowed by this Spectre of transgenderism, it consumes and pre occupies us, never one thing or another. It has created a kind of life dysphoria, which we have to negotiate and engage with. If you placed The angel of The North on our patio it would command less of a presence than the chimera of transgenderism.
Monday was taken up with x-rays (revealing a previously undiagnosed clear scoliosis of the spine), bloodtests, CTI scans and assessments with firstly the anesthetist and then two of the three surgeons who would undertake the surgery. Dr Daniel and Dr Kai. Angela has such a beautiful face, with hight cheek bones, and large mossy green eyes, a very dignified nose and full soft lips, her hair is naturally long and dark blond, with the odd strand of silver grey, like shafts of light. It seem strange for the surgeons, to analyse her face and talk about certain deformities, a slight lean of her nose, her widows peaks, the thickness of her noses bridge. I sat in silence, knowing I could never say, "what the hell are you talking about, I love that fucking face".... i would keep her forever as she is, and not change one thing, but that I know would be selfish of me, and if she was happy with her male features then she would not be mine.
We made love in the hotel room, yesterday, and i draped soft silk sleeping gowns over her body and kissed her face knowing it would be the last time, and from hence forth, she would be the same person I loved but yet again transformed. She hopes I will love her just the same, and I hope that my feelings remain the same despite her anatomy.
oops battery running low, to be continued and corrected later.
Love to all
We have both been quiet, and Angela, has been teary and fearful, I imagine it is the tension, a fear of an unsatisfactory outcome, a dread of pain...we are going through the same process as any normal couple would follow for a romantic sunshine and sangria type holiday, double checking passports, caryying round vats of sun block... except that is not the purpose of the trip; our aim is to get Angela's face feminised. (please see previous blogs for details of the surgery)
On Sunday night, we walked along the seafront, with all the Spanish holiday makers, it was a text book seaside idyll, the Mediterranean smells of lemon, garlicky seafood and olive oil. the sound of the sea, rolling like the chants of time, surging over and over. The breeze warm and balmy. Sitting at a low key sea front cafe, later in the evening, amidst dowdy, stern faced Spanish Matriarchs and young Spanish well mannered families on the beach. We were drinking San Miguel and eating paella, several times as we walked through the langerous and laid back crowds we overheard people whisper "Hombre", we felt like any two women alone, but this type of snipe and the the occasional quizzical glances belied the fact we were not like any other couple.
We talked late into the evening about what would happen if she died, where I would go and whether I would cope. We talked of our lives so far and what we hoped for. We seem to be so overshadowed by this Spectre of transgenderism, it consumes and pre occupies us, never one thing or another. It has created a kind of life dysphoria, which we have to negotiate and engage with. If you placed The angel of The North on our patio it would command less of a presence than the chimera of transgenderism.
Monday was taken up with x-rays (revealing a previously undiagnosed clear scoliosis of the spine), bloodtests, CTI scans and assessments with firstly the anesthetist and then two of the three surgeons who would undertake the surgery. Dr Daniel and Dr Kai. Angela has such a beautiful face, with hight cheek bones, and large mossy green eyes, a very dignified nose and full soft lips, her hair is naturally long and dark blond, with the odd strand of silver grey, like shafts of light. It seem strange for the surgeons, to analyse her face and talk about certain deformities, a slight lean of her nose, her widows peaks, the thickness of her noses bridge. I sat in silence, knowing I could never say, "what the hell are you talking about, I love that fucking face".... i would keep her forever as she is, and not change one thing, but that I know would be selfish of me, and if she was happy with her male features then she would not be mine.
We made love in the hotel room, yesterday, and i draped soft silk sleeping gowns over her body and kissed her face knowing it would be the last time, and from hence forth, she would be the same person I loved but yet again transformed. She hopes I will love her just the same, and I hope that my feelings remain the same despite her anatomy.
oops battery running low, to be continued and corrected later.
Love to all
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)