It is done. I has surgery today to remove my breasts. At the moment, I am completely wrapped up in bandages and will be for a week. I know the surgery was done–I went to the hospital, I met with the doctor and a huge team, I went under, and I woke up in recovery with my chest covered in bandages. But until I see the change when it is revealed in my one week follow up appointment, my brain can’t process it. So, it is like under the bandages I both have boobs and don’t have boobs.
This week, I hope to post a lot as I recover. I’d like to report out on the whole top surgery process so far and I’d really like to talk about doubt and certainty. So stay tuned. I’ll try to post pics, too.
God, what a god-awful week. The election result caught me off-guard and reminded me how fragile trans progress is. I don’t know what will come in the next four years, but it feels utterly bleak. Not just for LGBTQ people, but for immigrants, Muslims, and people of any color other than lily-white.
But I won’t miss my nine-month progress report. I had a week where I traveled abroad recently and where I was able to go semi-stealth. This was in Central America, and while I passed perfectly, I was called “joven” a lot, so I probably passed as a 12-year-old. That’s fine.
I noticed a small regression this month in how often I was called “sir” overall. Could be due to layering up as it gets colder. Could also be due to weight gain. I’ve been stress eating a lot this month.
This will be the last month with me having to wear a binder to pose! Top surgery happens in T-minus 10 days. I’ll post separately on that a few times and also on my experience traveling. Comparison pics and video after the jump.
In the once great land
there was a television
And a red-state map
And a picture of the world gone to crap.
And there were two little queers sitting on the couch
And a whole lot of despair and pulling out hair
And a mean little louse soon in the White House .
And a box of tissues
And a soon-to-be lush
And an inner dread now whispering, “Hush.”
Good night, land. Good night, map.
Good night, world gone to crap.
Good night, rights and all of that.
Good night, queers. Good night, couch.
Good night, despair. Good night, hair.
Good night, little louse. Good night, White House.
Good night, tissues. Good night, issues.
Good night, nobody. Good night, lush.
Good night to the inner dread whispering, “Hush.”
Good night, stars. Good night, air.
Good night, progress everywhere.”