Transitional Fears. Posted by Nye , Thursday, April 1, 2010 at 6:52 AM, in Labels: FTM, Introspective, Transition

I was surfing around YouTube again tonight and came across this video created by a Transguy called Tyler:



I think it says a lot very, very well.

Leo. Posted by Nye , Monday, March 15, 2010 at 2:55 AM, in Labels: Doctors, GID, Transition

Did I mention that it's freezing? Well, it's just started to spit rain too, and Mel's on the way back to pick me up from her trip to the bookstore. I'm still standing outside on a sidewalk that seemed to look different than it did an hour and twenty minutes ago.

Bunched in my left hand is the paperwork that Dr Toohey left me with, including the phone number of Dr Ann Conway's private offices - the Endocronlogist I need to go and see about getting hooked up with for my T injections to commence. I notice that I'm kind of staring dumbly down at them while a new set of people rush around me.

I shake my head and snap out of it, realising there's absolutely nothing stopping me now from taking the next step as fast as humanly possible. I can book an appointment with Ann right here, right now. I hurry over to a deserted bus stop seat and plunk my backpack down, pulling out my iPhone and punching her number in.

A bewildered woman answers my call and there's an instant chill in my gut.

"Uh.. Hello there? Who are you looking for?"

I swallow. This is definitely not how I expected it to go. Then my years of dealing with clients via phone kicks in and I'm on auto-pilot.

"Hello there. My name is Nye and I'm looking to speak with a Dr Ann Conway. Is she available?"

The words roll off my tongue so smoothly, several octaves above the tone presented to the cafe owner less than two hours ago. It seems to do the trick.

"Oh, sorry, I'm a little flustered here at the moment. We're packing up the office and moving into a new premises tomorrow and it's a bit chaotic."

I insert a well practiced chuckle here, letting her know I understand exactly where she's coming from. Then the bomb hits.

"Oh, sorry, yes, Dr Ann Conway retired last year, she's not seeing any patients."

Everything stops. It feels like I've been punched in the gut. I hear something on the other end of the phoneline and then snap back into listening again.

".... and I can refer you to another of our doctors, he's very good and has taken over a lot of Ann's previous patients? Hang on, let me get you his details.."

I hear a ruffling of paper and perhaps a box getting knocked over. I cough to get her attention as my brain grinds back into gear.

"Sorry.. just a quick moment.. is the gentleman you're suggesting.. does he have experience with GID patients?"

The rustling on the other end of the line stops. I can almost hear her head tilt.

"I didn't quite catch that.. does he have experience with what?"

I restrain a very audible, very long exhale. Please god don't tell me I'm going to have to go through this again.

"Does he have experience with GID patients. I have GID and I've just been cleared to see someone like Ann to start my testosterone treatment."

It's almost like a bolt of lightening strikes her from high.

"Ooooohhhh.. I understand.. no, he doesn't have experience with that. You need to talk to the people at the Concord Andrology unit. They'll be able to help you.. I've got the number around here somewhere...." More rustling ensues.

At this stage I'm rapidly scrambling to get my computer out of my pack with the phone jammed to the side of my head, cursing internally at the spitting rain and praying that Job's made this thing more waterproof than the last model.

"Okay.. here we go.." She reads the number out to me and I punch it dutifully in, thank her for her time and then get straight back on the phone with my new piece to the puzzle.

Leo answers. Wonderful, wonderful Leo.

Let me talk about Leo for a moment before I go on. A friend of mine who is also going through transition mentioned that Leo from the unit would be the best person to talk to about finding a GP etc, finding support groups, and just generally helping me find health care professionals who will treat me like a human being. I stored the name away when I heard it and thought no more about it until he picked up the phone.

"Hi there, my name is Leo, how can I help you?"

He's got a very gentle speaking manner and relief floods my voice as I recognise the name.

"Hi Leo, my name is Nye and I'd like to make an appointment to see a doctor at the clinic.. I have GID and I've just been passed to commence treatment."

Leo doesn't skip a beat, and there's a genuine smile behind his words.

"That won't be a problem at all, do you know who you would like to see?"

I explain that I'd been referred to Dr Ann Conway's private practice but she was gone, so I was somewhat in the dark and looking for recommendations. (Translated: Help - I'm lost!)

"Dr Conway? She still treats with us, even though she's retired from private practice and is currently training a new doctor to take over her work in the GID field, there'll be no issue seeing her through the clinic."

Ever had the feeling where you've wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time?

"That's brilliant, how soon can I see her?"

Leo asks if I have my referral letter from Dr Toohey, and then, very very carefully adds the following question.

"I just want to check because I have to get this right on the paperwork the first time - you were born a physical female?"

Just his care alone makes me feel, for the first time in a very long time, accepted. Finally in line with someone who's going to look after me. Rhian was spot on with recommending this guy. The fact that he added 'physically' in there just said it all.

I give him the affirmative and he scans the calender.

"The first I can fit you in will be the 17th.. how does that work?"

I let him know that's no good as I'll be in Brisbane for the coming week.

"Okay then.. let's have another look here.. how does the 24th work? Say 3pm?"

That works freaking great! I'm there! Sporting bells, whistles and any other noise making attachments I can find! He locks it in and then spends a little more time with me being conversational.

"You know, it's quite funny and I have to ask, how on earth did you find out about us? We don't advertise and yet we have at least one new case a fortnight who is in exactly the same situation that you are."

And there it is again.. it's not a problem.. it's not an issue.. it's a 'situation'.. something I can't control, something that is happening TO ME.. but can get some help resolving.

I explain to him that not only had Dr Toohey directed me across to the clinic, but I'd had excellent feedback from the general online community about the work being done there. There's a genuine smile of appreciation behind the phoneline that I can hear now.

"Ahh.. well, that's good then, I'm glad we're helping. But it is still very funny - we're actually a male fertility clinic by trade."

I laugh with him at that one, the irony is heavy and it washes away all the tension of the last few days. I thank him again and hang up the phone, pack all my kit away and get out of the rain as Mel circles the block one more time before coming to collect me.

Step 3. Done. Roll on the 24th.

After the dust settles.. Posted by Nye , Friday, March 12, 2010 at 3:09 PM, in Labels: FTM, GID, Introspective, Transition

It's been a very long six months leading up to this point. Epic battles waged by (many) different people who I am forever grateful to help me secure the funding I need to go forward with this. My partner getting cut into the redundancy side of the workforce. Starting a new business. Phew.

I knew 2010 was going to be a cracker but we're only in March!

Last Tuesday I got partially paid the huge wack of commission money owed to me by the company I work for, which was the final barrier against actually starting my transition process. After 8 years of research, wistful wandering around the net viewing transmen sites and wishing, I'm finally in a position to get the outside of me to match the inside.

Let me explain a little more about GID and how I feel on a daily basis. Imagine, if you can, waking up each morning and feeling like you're wearing a very ill-fitting sumo suit. It's not only baggy, but parts of it are unweildy and you can't move very well inside of this thing.. it sort of.. sits 'on' you. You adjust your gait, slouch your shoulders and kind of fold in on yourself as you travel through the day.

You can't hug the people you love properly with it on, you can't have sex without being acutely aware that it's there which effects your ability to be 'in the moment'. You don't like your lover actually touching the suit so it becomes awkward for any deep level of intimacy and things become very one sided in the bedroom. You have difficulty in standing up in front of a crowd and speaking because you know they're seeing you through the suit, and not what you actually are.

To try and deal better with the suit you put on several layers of support around the chest area by way of bra's/sports bras/anything that will stop the reminding movement that's present with every step. While this provides a small measure of relief, your shoulders ache from the increased force needed to strap tightly enough, then your back aches and most afternoon's you end up with a raging headache.

You go to bed, uncomfortable but at least free of the supporting strapping so your shoulders can take a break, and then your partner tries to cuddle into you and rest her head on your chest, but again, the suit gets in the way.

And each day that you wake up you know one very important and crushing thing.

You can't take it off. It never stops.

So that's me, I walk down the streets of my life not fitting. It's a different feeling to being on the outskirts of a social group, or a racial group, because while I completely acknowledge people struggle greatly with those challenges, it's very, very hard not being able to 'fit' within yourself on such a fundamental scale as your gender identity.

Throughout most of my life there was a large focus on my mane of long hair. It was a living, breathing thing that my mother had proudly displayed to her social set during my childhood and earned me many a pat on the head. As soon as I was old enough to understand I carried a brush with me everywhere and took great pains to ensure it was tanglefree and in best possible condition for show.

This naturally translated into my teen set and my hair became a defining point as a method of identity. The women in my social circle would stroke it, it was commented on, and yet for some reason I was incredibly uncomfortable looking in the mirror while having it cut by a stylist, so it remained growing and wild for most of my teenage years.

Come adulthood and the requirements of a workplace where such hair isn't considered a professional asset, trips to the hairdresser are done once every 6-8 months on the outside. It's a horrible, horrible experience having my hair cut and styled, albeit ever so basically, in a feminine cut. I spend most of the 2+ hour sessions staring at the floor. Yet the accumulated weight of reinforcement about how important my hair is to my existence remains and it's just something to be tolerated.

Flash forward to around 2 years ago when my partner Mel helped me work up the courage to get it cut correctly to a male style. She thought, like the hairdresser who did the actual deed, that I would freak out once it was gone but both I think were incredibly surprised in how overjoyed I was with the result. I'm still not quite sure if the stylist really realises how much of a difference she made to my life.

I love getting my hair cut now and have it done around once every 3 weeks. It's a relaxing, enjoyable experience. This may seem trivial but it's a fundamental thing.. my hair now fits me. The me who I am, not this suit that you see.

I can only imagine at this point how good it's going to be when the rest of me experiences the same thing.

So, it begins. Posted by Nye , Thursday, March 11, 2010 at 3:52 AM, in Labels: FTM, GID, Transition

Well, here we are at the technical start of it all. Today, after 31 years on the planet I've been given the 'all clear' to begin my transitional journey from a physical female with GID to a chemically and chest-correct guy, albeit unfortunately still sans the little dangly bit.

I think there's a drought out there of blow by blow transitional blogs that detail the full range of the experience for transguys to refer to, so I'm offering myself up as a resource for anyone who may find my ramblings useful.

I've marked the site as Adult Content because I intend to share the full gamut of the change, chest pics and all. Also, my ever lovely partner, Mel, will be making guest appearances from time to time to share her perspective on what's happening to me. (And, she says, to her!) :)

So welcome, and thanks for having an interest in what's about to take place on the journey to approaching my personal babylon. Hope you enjoy the ride as much as I do!