October Update 1: Go time

Dear Reader,

I’m laying in bed as I type this on October 9th, 15 hours prior to my first major surgery. I have had nothing in my stomach for almost 16 hours except clear liquids, and the stomach has begun voicing complaints on the regular. My hope is to make another update once I’m out of surgery and coherent enough to string a few words.

There’s a sense of calm about me that I didn’t expect right now. I was planning on being practically paralyzed with anxiety at this point. Anxiety has been a constant companion up to yesterday morning as I dealt with paperwork and appointments and waiting for test results. At times the anxiety was paralyzing, and only through the encouragement and support of my friends and loved ones did I push through.

I thought I would be dying of anxiety at this point. Gender confirmation surgery has been the goal since I knew I was trans. I spent years trying alternatives that could be put on and taken off for convenience, but they never felt enough. Tucking was only ever a stop-gap that usually was more uncomfortable than it was worth due to either tape or tight gaffs. Soon, I’ll take the huge and permanent leap, and all those things will be in the past. All I’ll have to worry about is maxi pads.

And relearning how to pee.

And figuring out what’s where on my new anatomy. And possibly tampons. Douching, I almost forgot about that. Dilating multiple times a day, too. Oh, and getting to the point where what another person described as “the tightest tuck I’ve ever had” feels normal. Also, y’know, keeping wounds clean and not infected and not getting sick and other potential complications…

I should rightly be terrified out of my head. Instead, even after going over the list of everything that could go wrong, of everything I’m going to have to learn, re-learn, and un-learn, I’m sitting here calmly counting the hours and being mildly irritated at a cough that won’t quite go away and a stomach that’s rather annoyed it hasn’t had any solid food in almost a day.

Regardless of how things go tomorrow, I know this is the right choice. The only possible choice for me, really. Whatever comes after, I have a wonderful group of people to support me, and I will face those challenges as they come. Maybe that will change once I’m actually in the hospital. I don’t know. I do know that I’ll tell you about it on the other side of the operating table.

Stay well, dear Reader,

Cassandra