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Being Different

The following has to do with being transgendered. If you're offended by the issue please don't read. If you want to know more, please understand.

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I started out as a child... a line from a Bill Cosby album. For 50 years I lived the life my mother wanted. "The manly life, children, homes, made money the hard way... back breaking work. Being a man." It's hard being a man in the west or for the most part everywhere when we are blasted with what a man is supposed to be.

At one time had a Brigham Young beard and curly mustache. That was until I moved to Idaho from Wyoming. There I was a pole climber for a cable company. I look at that picture and wonder where I went. Until 1999 and a year after my son passed away I figured it would all go away. This was three homes, four marriages, two biological children and two step children later, I had to do something for myself.

It cost me dearly. My 15 year marriage, my home and most of my friends. I began to transition in late 1999 and planned on having Gender Reassignment Surgery (GRS) by 2001. Ya right!

In June 2001 I lost my job for "not following a dress code" that was supposedly in the hand book for the company. The company didn't have that book, never did. It was an excuse to rid themselves of what they called a deviant distraction to the normal work environment. Can we all say Bullshit?

July 2001 I found work with a charitable company. I started out as a cashier and moved into driving a truck for the company doing pick ups and deliveries. I was there for five years when an accident put me on disability. We farmed for about two years before the farm was sold out from under us. All this time I knew it would be next year when I would finally get GRS. 2001 passed and it was 2006 when by a miracle of a person who worked for a company that does re-fi's on homes took a chance and re-fied my house. I came out with enough to go to Thailand and have my surgery. That is when I found out why I felt like I did and do.

The surgery normally lasts 2.5 - 3 hours... mine was 4 hours long. All my life I was told I was born normally. I was born half and half leaning toward female, hence my feelings all my life.

I had never been been out of the country in my life. August 2006 I was getting on a plane in Boise, Idaho to go to Thailand... alone... Every landing, San Francisco, Tokyo, and finally Bangkok Thailand had a plane that was bound for home. Even when I was in my room being prepped for surgery I felt the need to run and get home. No one told me I would feel this way. I thought about all the years I prepped for this day and it was falling apart. My doctor told me that morning he would refund every dollar if I wasn't sure. If he gave me my money back I would have a vacation in Bangkok and nothing would change in my life. I had about ten seconds to decide if everything I was about to go through was going to change my life. I signed the papers for the surgery, which were in Thai so I may have been signing a death certificate for all I knew. I trusted my doctor completely. who I didn't trust was my feelings. I spent the day watching television and waiting for seven pm to show up.

I must have fallen asleep because before I knew it my doctor was in the room telling me they were about to move me to the OR. I had three beautiful nurses helping me get from my bed to a surgery table. The last thing I remember was the anesthesiologist telling me he was there to get me "pretty sleepy times."

What felt like fifteen seconds later Dr. Saran was telling me it was all over, I was a girl. I remember him asking if I knew where I was. I told him Bangkok. He said, "very good... now rest."

I did for two days as much as I remember. I do remember opening my eyes to see the TV was still on. I had no idea if it was morning or night. That "afternoon" I had to get up and walk. OMG did it hurt. I had a solid concrete pillow between my legs. It was connected to a stint which was about 7 inches long. I didn't know what else was in there but I felt like I was a stick - person, waddling up and down the hallway. The nurses did a waddle to show me how to walk. "Duck walk," they said. I did. For five days I had to duck walk.

Then came the day Dr. Saran took the stint out. Again OMG it was a weird feeling. I thought that was it until he told me to hold onto the side rails. Before I had a chance he was pulling out ten foot long packing gauze. It couldn't be just a few, it was seven. The nurses all the time holding my hands, probably to keep me from jumping out of bed. When it was done, thank god, the Dr. Saran took a mirror and said it all looks very good. What I saw was stitches and swollen tissue, nothing that looked like what I had expected. I laid back and cried. "Don't worry, it's just the swelling," He said.

Why didn't I believe him? Everyone who I knew lied to me about accepting who I was becoming and they ran as soon as they could so why should this be different? I spent four more days in the hospital, still having to get out of bed and walk every three hours or so.

Finally I was moved to my hotel room above the hospital where I had a low bed and could get up or stay as I wished. I found walking was better.

What had started when I was born finished August 31st 2006 when I got on the plane bound for home. I didn't want to go home. I wanted to stay in Thailand. I wanted to bring Gwen over and live there. But I had a home in America. I tell you there is something to say about coming home. Thailand was wonderful... I would go back in a heart beat and actually did a year ago for some minor repairs that a hack doctor here screwed up. I spent 10 days there the last time. But coming home... seeing a sunset and five hours later a sunrise from 39000 feet is spectacular.

Now I am home and wonder where all the urgency was before I went to Thailand the first time. I still wonder what if I never went in the first place, would I still have the urgency to go? I can't tell you. I find I think the same as I did before, maybe a little less fear of living.

I will tell you one thing, looking back on the trying and failing so many times may have been the reason I got up in the morning. I have no focus, reason to get up in the morning. I felt maybe if I got back into R/C planes again I could feel better... it's not the same. I am building a Cessna 182 but it's just a toy... something to do so I don't go crazy if I am not there yet. The need to focus on a future event is gone. I now understand why there's a high rate of suicides in the transgendered community. Last I heard it was over 50% of the pre-ops and 10% of the post-ops.

I am lucky, I have a partner that understands and is a supportive person for what I have gone through.

What really bothers me is I am almost 60 and I still don't understand life. I don't understand why it was so important to have GRS. The feelings I feel right now are mostly the same as before. There are inconveniences with being a woman... there are perks... but all in all I am still me inside a modified shell who everyone who I know calls Rosie or JacLynn.

The building on the right is where I had my surgery, Piyavate Hospital. If you count twenty floor up, and three over from the left that is where my room was except facing the other direction. This was home for almost 45 days out of my 59 years of life.

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Bangkok at sunset.

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3 months ago