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I feel I ought to have blogged sooner, but I just haven’t had the energy. Some say SRS is a piece of cake, some say it wiped them out, I think maybe I’m about average, understandably tired, and lacking energy. Swollen, sore and most of the time in some discomfort. It’s much better when I’m lying down, so I’ve been doing a lot of that recently.
I got back home just over a week ago. The long flight was no problem, the hour and half in a taxi from the airport left me close to tears. Sitting upright is the most difficult thing to do at the moment, in a moving vehicle it gets worse.
It was a little weird coming home after a month in a hot country, but after the initial shock from the cold and rain it is nice to be back. I went outside on my first morning home, looked out across the fields, sunlight glistening and weaving its way through the autumn colours, I listened to the birds tweeting, felt the leaves rustling under my feet, and smelt the wonderful fresh, lake district air. It brought a tear to my eye. This wasn’t Chonburi, hot and humid bustling city, not the 4-star hotel I had become accustomed to, no buildings, no cars, no street food. Just the countryside, just me, and my house. It felt like more of a culture shock to come home than it was to see Thailand for the first time, but it was lovely, if a little chilly.
I was back in my environment, finally with the body I had always dreamed of. Wonderful.
So how did I get here? Well I guess I have a fair way to go still, but let’s rewind a little.
We were collected from Bangkok airport by one of the girls from the Suporn team in their super snazzy air-conditioned minibus. Rested at the hotel for a while and then shown to the clinic, literally just round the corner. I had my consultation with Dr Suporn, everything was fine, all I had to do was get the all-clear on the blood tests.
We met the rest of the girls in the Suporn team at the clinic, there are about 10 of them and they are all completely adorable; cute and petite, smiley, helpful, very good looking and very professional. I was given my dilator kit, which I think scared my mum a bit; those boys are huuuge. Everything was explained to me, booklets given, and a time for us to be picked up to go to the hospital the day after tomorrow.
The next day we explored the town a bit, and generally got a feel for things. The day after that I was taken into the hospital at 11am, the day before my actual op.
The hospital was extremely busy, but I was amazed at how quick and efficiently everything was done. Within 20 minutes I had registered, had my passport details taken, weight, temperature, blood pressure, x-rays, ECG and blood tests done. Quite a whirlwind. Had I been in an English hospital I would probably have still been waiting at reception. I was taken upstairs to the relative calm of the top floor, reserved for all of Dr Suporn’s patients.
I had hours to wait before my next two tasks – meeting the anaesthetist and then the joys of the enema nurse, who shaves you "down there" and then cleans you out good and proper. Lovely.
My mum waited with me for a couple of hours then I suggested she go back to the hotel to get some rest and some food. I promised her I would be fine and said not to worry. She told me later it was very hard for her to leave "her baby" at the hospital, and she felt quite emotional travelling back to the hotel on her own. I felt a pang of emotion myself when she told me that.
The anaesthetist was brilliant, and went into great detail about what she does and what to expect. She was really, really lovely, and very reassuring. What’s more she came with the news that my blood tests were all clear, no HIV or any other nasty stuff, ECG fine, chest x-ray fine, BP normal. There was nothing in my way now, it was all going ahead. Wow, that was quite a feeling.
The sun was just about to set when she left, so I stepped onto my balcony and looked out across the sea. I felt so at peace. It seemed cooler here than in the city centre, the gentle breeze was still warm but very pleasant. There I was in a summery skirt and top, tropical sea breeze caressing my limbs and wafting through my hair, palm trees, seaside shacks, fishing huts built on stilts in the shallow water. I watched the sun fall through the clouds of a crimson red sky and below the horizon. For those few minutes it felt like I was on holiday in a tropical paradise, a single girl 6,000 miles from home in her private apartment. I let myself forget about what was to come and soaked up the calmness and tranquillity of the beautiful view from the balcony of my penthouse suite. A glass of Chardonnay would have been nice, or a rum punch even, but probably not a good idea just before "nil by mouth" time. Besides, I still had work to do. I went back inside, closed the sliding glass doors, and as if by magic, the enema nurse appeared in the room.
Moving swiftly on, cos you don’t want to hear about all that do you…
Clean and refreshed, I was given a sleeping pill, the first I’d ever taken in my life. It worked a treat and I slept like a log. I never sleep well in a different bed, especially one as firm as this. I’ve never been in hospital before, I’m not used to ANY noise during the night, and this was the eve of perhaps the most important day of my life. I oughtn’t to have slept a wink, so I was glad they gave me that pill. I awoke about 6:30 having slept for over 7 hours (which is rare for me even at home). I was told to shower with hibiscrub and given my gown. Shortly after, the trolley arrived to take me down to theatre.
It was just like on the telly, watching the ceiling whilst being wheeled along the corridors. I could have walked, I wouldn’t have minded.
They got me into place on the op table and inserted my drip. One of the ladies chatted to me a little, "You speak Thai?"
"Nope. I know – sawat dee kaa, kob khun kaa, that’s about it."
"Sawat dee KAA", she said with glee. You hear that a lot in Thailand, a general greeting, hello or goodbye, usually accompanied by a hands together as if in prayer gesture and a small bow. Very civilised these people.
Mrs anaesthetist came to my side and held my hand. "Are you ready?"
"Yes, I’m ready.
In her gentle, soft voice, "Ok Lucy, I’m going to put you to sleep now…"
I wasn’t aware of falling asleep, but I did feel warm and glowy for a second or two, must have been something in that "cocktail" she had told me about. I closed my eyes and smiled, feeling rather nice, then I guess I was out for the count.
The count was about seven hours, but to me it was the blink of an eye. I opened my eyes and was back in my room, my mum apparently pacing up and down it. I smiled at her. Even though I hadn’t been aware of falling asleep and had only closed my eyes a second ago it was nice that the first thing I should see was her. I wanted her to know that I was ok, and happy, and glad to see her. I think she was relieved to see me come round.
It was nearly 4pm, the quickest day of my life. I became aware of the pressure on my groin which seemed to be pressing from above and below, a slightly weird feeling, a little sore, not too painful, but quite uncomfortable. That night was the longest night of my life. It‘s all swings and roundabouts isn’t it.
The next day was pretty awful, having not slept properly, unable to roll over, the time passed painfully slowly, and I still could not sleep for more than a few minutes at a time. Day two was much better, I was able to get on my side, I could feel the morphine working when it kicked in (it really just took away the discomfort, I’d expected more from it, but hey ho). I slept and slept, probably the best way to pass the time when one is confined to bed.
The next 5 days didn’t seem so bad. The food was awful but I didn’t have any appetite anyway, besides, when you can’t go to the toilet for a week do you really want to eat anything?
Day 5, the Dr took the dressing off (he sees you every morning). I got my first view of my rearranged body. I didn’t break down in tears, sobbing - "Oh it’s so beautiful…" It was a wound, with five days stubble, stitches everywhere, 2 tubes coming out of it, not really very pretty, but it looked like everything was in the right place and a good job had been done. It certainly looked a lot better than it used to. I was very happy. I was allowed to shower and just about managed to wash my hair without collapsing, it’s amazing how weak and wobbly you get after 5 days in bed. I saw myself naked in the mirror. Wow, from a distance it looked pretty good. I had the body of a female, ok not a particularly voluptuous one, but definitely not male. The reality began to sink in. I was assisted back into bed and one of the Suporn girls (who also come to see you every day) brushed my tangled, wet hair. I was tired, weak, groggy and still croaking a bit, but I could feel the happiness rising up from my toes to the top of my head. I’d done it, I’d got this far. If I died tomorrow at least I would have died happy.
Day 6, I showered again, feeling slightly less wobbly, but not much. Day 7 was the day they would let me out… hopefully.
On the seventh day… the Dr came at his usual time and got to work straight away. Packing was taken out, eeeuoww, catheter removed, ouch, and he used a large syringe to rinse me out several times with water and then betadine solution. Glove on, lubricated the "Thai boyfriend" then proceeded to give me my first lesson in dilation.
The first time is easy having had packing in for a week, and my Thai boyfriend (the medium size dilator) had no problems and didn’t hurt a bit. Hold it there for an hour – easy peasy.
So when my time was up the nurses came to clean me out. This time they got me out of bed to sit on the loo while they syringed me with water. As soon as the water went in I started sweating suddenly and profusely, within 2 or 3 seconds I was dripping, quite literally from head to foot. I’d never known anything like it; I didn’t know it was possible to sweat so much. I was of course feeling quite woozy too. The nurses realised I wasn’t looking too good and got me back to bed, "You rest now and we clean you later."
So an hour or so later they tried again, as soon as I sat down I started going woozy again and said so, so they put me straight back to bed again, "You rest some more".
Once you’ve had the catheter removed you have to show that your plumbing is working ok and so you must have a wee before they will discharge you, so all this time I had been drinking water to make sure I needed a wee!
One of the Suporn girls came in and asked me how I was feeling now. Suddenly I came over very nauseous and with some urgency asked her to get a bowl, I was extremely ill, several times in quick succession. All the water I’d been drinking that morning came back all at once. Yuk.
So now I couldn’t face drinking any more water and still had to show that I could wee ok. I sipped delicately, feeling very queasy for quite some time. Several hours passed and I eventually felt like I might be able to manage a little wee. I didn’t want to risk going to the loo again, as I was feeling even more woozy than the last two times I had tried, so I asked for the bedpan, and managed a little dribble, which was enough for them to decide that I could go. The wheelchair was ordered and eventually I got out of bed to leave.
I stood at the end of the bed and felt slightly wobbly again, my vision started closing in and my head started buzzing slightly – like the feeling you get sometimes when you stand up too quickly, so that’s all I thought it was. Next thing I know I’m sitting down with people around me fanning me. I’d fainted, for the first time in my life, so I wasn’t expecting it. It was like the anaesthetic – I wasn’t aware of losing consciousness and the next thing I know I’m in a different place. Fortunately my mum was right next to me so managed to catch me and save me from a nasty bump on the head. How my little 67 year old dear mother held up an 11 stone rag-doll like me I’ll never know, but she managed to support me while the nurses fetched a chair. I think I was only out for a few seconds.
So of course it was the now familiar, "You rest some more…"
Would I ever get out of this place?
A couple more hours passed and I decided to try again. Feeling extremely wobbly, but telling everyone I was fine, I managed to get into the wheelchair without fainting again. I was driven back to the hotel where there was another wheelchair waiting for me. Being back in my cosy room with my big bed was bliss. It was so good to be back. I have never felt so exhausted, I was completely wasted. I could hardly string a sentence together, unable to concentrate. I felt very woozy, and very wobbly every time I stood up. We ordered a chicken sandwich and chips from room service. I’d effectively eaten nothing that day, it was now nearly 6pm. I couldn’t really face the food though, and just picked at it as best I could. Two of the Suporn girls had come back with me and they decided that I didn’t have to dilate that evening as I was too poorly. Missing a dilation session, especially in the early days is really an absolute no-no, but there’s no way I could have managed it. So I fell into bed feeling like a very tired zombie and slept quite well, having taken another sleeping pill just to make sure. The next day I felt much better, but still had some nausea and general wooziness coming over me from time to time. I managed to eat though, and could feel the strength returning, at least a little bit. The wobbliness lasted a few days, mainly when I stood up, or had been on my feet for a while, so I was forced to do very little, but I soon got my appetite back which must have helped a lot.
The last day in hospital had been quite an ordeal, so I was glad to be out. After a few days the general soreness would subside occasionally and I could sense my new vagina in what felt like its natural state. At times, maybe as nerves were reconnecting, or the numbness was subsiding, I would become aware that it felt extremely pleasant. Not like I was turned on, but just kind of nice, like it was a part of me, and it seemed to be functioning ok. The Dr had told me to avoid sexual arousal in the early days so I tried not to focus on it too much. But at those times it felt really lovely, and I felt a warm glow radiating from the centre of my body to the top of my head, and the tips of my toes and fingers. I tell you, it was better than the morphine. These were wonderful moments. My new vagina was sensate, it felt like a part of me, and I felt completely physically female.
It’s a truly remarkable experience having your body changed, especially when you become the way you’ve always desperately wanted to be, the way you feel you should have been born. I feel privileged, kind of special, and very grateful to my surgeon. Being TS, having been in the wrong body for over 40 years, I feel I can now appreciate the RIGHT body, where natal females may take theirs for granted. I feel wonderful, still a little sore and still not fully recovered, but in my heart and in my head, mentally, spiritually and emotionally I am on top of the world.
Only time will tell how well I heal, it’s too early to make an objective opinion on the aesthetic appearance – it can take 3 or 4 months before it stops looking like a wound and starts to look natural. Maybe I will talk more about how the healing is going in my next blog, I think that’s quite enough for now.
All in all, in so many ways, it’s been an amazing experience.
But still a long way to go…
xx
