carniflex

So, part of my brain dares believe there will be surgery (pain!) soon, so more living images are forming within. The part that dares not believe is so tired and worn and desillusioned anyway that it offers no contrasting dreams. Was thinking of my typical need to go up for voiding liquid during the night (more crude verbosity to come in this space eventually, I guess – bodies are bodies and are weird and alien). If Enki’s aftercare is anything like that of the Swedes, I am not supposed to spread legs too far while healing, which imposes challenges on how to get in and out of bed at night, while sleepy, for that purpose, not to mention whatever distinct washing and desinfection/cleaning requirements go into it. I hope this shall not be so severe as the Suporn regimen with multiple forms of antibacterial applied consecutively for each bathroom visit, but who knows? I worry over spreading legs while half-awake and tearing tissue edges and stitches.

Moreover I sleep weirdly, half on side, and have sleep troubles already. What positions shall now be available to me, and how challenging will it be to stick to them? How much will my sleep schedule be screwed up during the first three months or so? I must prepare for the reality that it will take up more time. This being part of the reduced work schedule I now am trying to pay for in advance by overworking. Could I schedule something like 9-10h total for simply sleep and realities around it? Another 3h for dilation because that too is there. 12h for sleep and dilation, so maybe during the six first months post-op, change my expectation of eight good hours of work into six good hours of work? And accepting those hours may be there at home, now away somewhere else, unless necessary. Skype meetings. Though staying inside may drive me crazy. Assuming those 9h of sleep adjacency, 3h dilation and 6h work in all schedules seem like what I should do however. Leaving me 6h for socialization, transport, shopping and solitary pleasures (AKA binge watching cartoons, nothing steamier than that).

whiteout

I’m narrowly coping. Too many stressors or perhaps rather sadnesses at once, and I am almost out of energy. I feel a need for comfort food but I worry about sabotaging my weight loss from even a single occasion. I don’t feel my body is overweight in a way I cannot handle, I still now feel that I can look OK so long as my bottom parts are not shown. Rather it is some desperate thought that if I only was lean, undeniably lean for my height, then more people would have at least a starting likelihood of finding me attractive. It’s shameful that this all matters to me, that I cannot simply be at peace. And probably it’s illusory, not even as a thin woman would things be that different. But at least it is something I can do. I need something I can do.

More importantly, seeking SRS is something I can do. Psychologist now at least says she will try to provide documents for applying for insurance coverage. I worry it will be rejected anyway. At which point I can still save up, I need to see if I can somehow find sources of income I am presently unaware of. I need a surgery date. My body feels like a corpse and every day of uncertain waiting without knowing when there will be release leaves me with this heavy knowledge that while my mind may be lovable, my body really isn’t.

It might not change anything. But then again it also might. If I retain sensitivity, then at least I may finally feel OK again at least touching myself, even if no-one else will. And while I actively do not want any penetration I can now receive, perhaps after surgery I can want it, and even learn to endure the touch of men; their interest at least I am sure I can attract. I do not want it now but perhaps I can come to want it. Making a trade – he will lick me if I let him fuck me, standard heterosexual script.

I should not care about any of this. But it hurts so much. I feel oceans and oceans of tears behind my eyes. It hurts.

edge

I should sleep because tomorrow means travel, needing to be focused, and moreover I must accomplish important work during the way. But I am unable to – even taking an anxiolytic before sleep, I woke and cannot find the peace to sleep more. I must ride it the best I can, like Inanna passing into the Underworld. Putting down what I feel in text at least will help some.

The experience of being a sexual creature in this body is becoming harder and harder to endure. I can’t ignore it fully. Core, I suppose, is that it seems for a variety of reasons that being myself at this time in this body means it is near-impossible for me to receive bodily manifestations of love and lust. This stems from several reasons.

Weight I will only mention in passing. I am still hovering on the upper edge of the normal spectrum of BMI, and while that now means some curves, I still remember lovers telling me their honest feeling that my weight made it less interesting to touch me, that a desire to be with someone more like themselves remained in the background. And of course I cannot hold this against anyone; if we cannot be honest then what does anything matter? I for my part am trying to let myself care about whether my lovers actually attract me, which I have not always, so I should encourage the same in them. There is also that so long as my belly look like this, protruding far beyond my breasts, I feel always a little like a pudgy man more than a woman. I never knew what having a conventionally fit or attractive body was like, and I feel bitter about it. I deserve to know that feeling. So weight loss, at almost any cost, must be one of my priorities, and I can take some solace within the loneliness of the body that I would have to go through that process anyway before I have a body which I can expect many people to want to touch except out of pity. Very well, this is useful.

More importantly, and requiring more effort and attention, are my disgusting genitals. I did have that one single occasions where someone, for whatever reason, licked me, taking care to warm me up, mask my shape, applying pressure where my opening would have been, and who then brought me over; dealt with my fluids so the dysphoria spike did not come, and I could just sink into a relaxation I had not felt in years. I had not thought I could experience this pre-op at all, really, and it brought me hope that perhaps I can. But I am not very interested in this person on almost any level – socially, mentally, physically otherwise, and I should not play with their emotions, and they are not near me.

Perhaps I must accept that as the exception confirming the rule, because nothing like it happened before for many years, nor since. With partners by and large the respective dynamics of each relationship does not have the other having any real drive to touch or please me; each I am sure feels some misplaced guilt or sadness over it but the fact remains, each feels a desire primarily for what I can induce in them, and surely also out of the love I know to be real a wish for me to be happy, but the realities of how complicated I am leaves that wish no space to be expressed within anything resembling spontaneity. I love them each regardless and cherish what we have.

I recall that girl who sought me out to have me top her, met me once and then broke that off based on how my trans-based body uncertainty was a turn-off; I never mentioned it but she said she sensed it. Surely in some sense this shines through to all I am with. My loathing and bitterness over my body spreads like inky taint through empathy and kills feelings of lust towards me. I suppose unempathic individuals might be exceptions, but the reality is, I want only sex and nearness which is fully empathethic, where there truly is love, not with some mechanical stranger. And I know this to be a very tall order.

That girl was cis; I realize increasingly that I cannot relax fully unclothed with any cis person. With cis women I see our anatomies differ and I am in the darkness. With cis men I see them be similar and the same happen. And perhaps with trans people, I trigger their dysphoria by them sensing mine? Post-op girls, for that matter, I also feel tense around – some part of me is so much in awe and envy; I feel their perspective overshadows mine, it is a fearful respect and it makes me almost unable to make moves on them. It’s much like cis girl envy but in its own way more powerful. I deeply hope this will not happen to me in turn when I am post-op, that pre-op trans girls will feel too scared to lick or finger or fuck me. But I push that fear far far away.

Still my body does crave release as all bodies do. Touching myself is not an option, the feeling of loneliness and additionally dysphoria from stimulating myself such as I am becomes too much. I cannot even bring myself to do this to prevent atrophy even if it will help for surgery. I long for somehow someone stimulating me so that I do not have to be the one doing it, as an act of love or devotion or even out of attraction, a wish to make my mind experience another state. There are ways, but all the easiest ones are ones that treat my genitals as though they were male, and then I cannot relax; I have tried this now with two trans girls and it reminds me too much of how my genitals naively are paced. Getting ordinary “blow jobs” and liking them is something men do, my mind tells me in that moment. Though I would never see another girl so.

What remains is essentially just frottage or toys, and partners who are fundamentally passive feel no real drive to use those on me, their interests drift elsewhere, away from my trying to manage freaking out over being reminded of my shape. It simply doesn’t seem like it will happen with anyone, and I don’t have the energy left to try to go out and search for someone with whom it might. I’ve searched for so long for so many things and it never works. Meaningful things don’t happen when you seek to make them happen, within this sphere, they only happen when you do not expect them to.

So barring exceptional cases of people acting unexpectedly, and where still other mismatches remain an issue (as in, looking up casual lovers is no real option since I will just feel lonely in their company since there will be neither connection nor attraction), it seems genital release is basically off the table for me. There remains being pushed far enough from other kinds of stimulation – my nipples are sensitive to pleasure and even more to pain, and pain at least gets me out of my head. To experience pain with someone, I need much less of complex trust and safety and all these other things. It is more realistic to hope for, and I must take renewed steps to ensure I experience it. I need it. I need my body bruised and sore and aching so I can finally relax at least in some way, at least for some little while. This I should try to make happen, though of course it too is complex and not just something I can expect will come to me, or that I can expect to be able to make happen.

Most importantly, I bitterly and urgently and desperately need SRS now. I know it is no magic bullet. It might just take climaxing off the table permanently by loss of nerves, and I can’t expect more people will want to have sex with me post-op than pre-op. But at least I would be able to be open to receive, to ask for, to be naked with in more ways. I would not have to train each new person on what they can and cannot do, would not have to reinterpret and remap all sensations, would actually be able to be naked and just see what happens. Stimulation, while probably less straightforward, would be easier to ask for or move to receive. I need it already. Every day of waiting is a day in a body where asking to be touched is like asking someone to take out the stinking garbage bag – maybe they will, when it is their turn, but their heart will never be in it. Nor mine.

What is now in the way? I do want to apply for insurance coverage. I cannot myself, my psychologist must do it for me. She is in no hurry, no effort between our monthly sessions. She is happy to drag this out, what does she care? That can just keep on and I have no way to push her, no way to force her, because this is still gatekeeping, still something she must sign off on out of paid kindness. Perhaps something will happen next time. But perhaps it will not even work, and the insurer demand the present therapy continue for another year before they consider it. And while the time spent waiting takes place, I still have no date for my surgery, I cannot have one assigned until insurers sign off. So the long waiting list grows longer every day.

I am not sure I can take another year of this. Right now I feel I cannot. I feel like self-harm and crying and darkness. So my only fallback is to schedule it privately. I feel like an idiot for even considering – it costs 28K in total, which I don’t have yet. If I only wait a few years more insurance will cover, perhaps if I am lucky even a few months more. But right now I don’t feel like I have a year, I don’t feel like I can endure this that long.

So what can I do? I have savings of 20K. I can get the Suporn deposit of ca 3K back, and must. I will have to pay 8-10K in home renovation costs this year. Given yearly bonuses, if I save 1K per month, which is my realistic maximum, then I would have 20K free for surgery by end of the year, and another 8K by next August. The first operation is 19K, the second 9K. It would almost work, at least for a date next year, as it is six months between surgeries anyway. But that leaves me entirely without margins or safeties, if there are any unexpected costs or emergencies, or anything ends up more expensive, this plan breaks and I would have to cancel the date.

Perhaps I have to accept that endurance. And accept I must now save as much as I can, and look for the possibility even of loans. And accept I will burn all my savings and backups and margins on this. Because I feel I can’t go on like this much longer. I will do what I must.

moonwater

I’m beginning to read Sunstone again. It showed up way in the past, and I read what was then there, but back then I did not know what I was (did not know myself as a woman, which meant I could not quite know myself as domme either), and though it caught me, it was not quite so strong.

Now it was recommended to me again – by incidence – and with some additional contexts casting shadows around it that fall elsewhere. But like with “Pattern Recognition”, what I learned since changes the reading much. First, I recognize so much more. From the nerdy trans woman domme – who wears the same kind of virtually unique glasses as I! sight lenses set into reading glass frames so as not to hide any eye makeup! – to the dynamics and nervosity and perhaps most importantly, I recognize now similar wants and preferences and kinks in myself; where I felt alien from the story back then, it feels like it is almost scarily literally describing realities of my life in the present moment.

That is glorious and delightful and I am very happy to find it so. Will see how it progresses. Today is an incredibly hectic day, stressful. Being able to read the comic in-between in transit helps me recharge a little. This will be good. On another note, seems the price for Dr Enki’s services is not as high as I thought, hospital stay costs are within the quote I already had. So while I still will try for the insurance solution, given another year I could still pay privately. This calms and makes me long for the body I will have.

On yet another note, six-seven weeks without shaving gives me about a dozen actual long beard hairs. They bother me but just waiting another two days and I will finally have them electrolyzed off. There won’t be many more sessions now.

lead-to-chrome

The day after my surgery consult I am aware that I still don’t have a definite date set. The procedure will be, they send me a cost model, then I either pay them or present them documentation saying my health insurance will. Thereafter I get a date. And after that I may be offered earlier dates if there are cancellations.

This means the first step is to ensure they actually send me that document (if they have not by early next week, I remind them). And then to ensure the solution is ready. I’ll try both paths; continue budgeting as planned, but also request from my health insurance what they require, and try to get my quirky therapist to write out the documentation those in turn require. She seems not optimistic about it but I have to try. And if she is not helpful enough, then I contact my old therapist once she is back from maternity leave and check if she can do it instead.

Then applying (needing to do so in Sumerian, so will need help, waiting waiting waiting, maybe have it rejected). If rejected it either means I need to continue current therapy long enough for it to count (and I don’t like being dependent on this therapist, really), or go back to the private option. Accounting for hospital stay costs, surgery cost estimates, home repairs, that is a semi-guaranteed possibility by end of next year, though may be possible earlier in different setups.

I’ll do all these things and it will work out. That’s fine. The interesting observation of my mindstate is how the uncertainty of not having a date creeps me the fuck out. It’s a dysphoria manifestation, makes me restless, a sense of a threat somewhere that I must be vigilant towards, an obsessive vigilance and defense need. Just like my life was pre-transition. This is very very useful to see.

The uncertainty itself, the projected expectation that I will have to spend time waiting without knowing when the wait will be over, that is scary. And highlights how my genital dysphoria is channeled. I can even receive some stimulation these days (not too far back, someone was able to make me come by licking me, after giving me enough attention that I didn’t care what anyone touched or saw, just about what I received – first time in a long while I climaxed, and first time in a long time I felt secure enough afterwards to just sink into fuzzy wordless sleepy happiness, fluids probably went in their mouth so did not cause me further dysphoria – they said I tasted like a cis girl squirting, which I was glad to hear – ah, NSFW interjection in parenthesis aside…).

But my sense of peace is predicated on knowing that I’ll soon be changed, knowing that this state is temporary, set to be resolved. Much like my old dysphoria over social gender relieved a little by convincing myself the world would soon change, must change. The mere fact of my anatomy is what bothers me, is intolerable, and until it has been corrected, the best I can do is to ensure I feel as secure as possible on the timeline of that correction.

That is also what had me before; when I freaked out over the Suporn scheduling system. When I delayed all other things for several days of frantic programming just to write a sniper bot to make the scheduling for me (see: https://lost-in-transition.music.blog/2019/03/25/ninshubur-and-the-hidden-moon/ ; https://lost-in-transition.music.blog/2019/03/28/the-battle-belongs-to-the-strong/ ; https://lost-in-transition.music.blog/2019/03/28/the-battle-belongs-to-the-strong/ for that saga). I couldn’t focus on anything else until I knew I did all I could. It’s similar now. A deep restless anxiety. And I even worry it will reduce my efficiency, keep me from working well.

What soothes me, beyond doing all I can when I can? Actually, walking through the streets of morning Zurich (pretty ugly city really), I started up synthwave I’d been sent, and somehow its minimalism (much more minimal, more elevator muzak like, than my usual empowerment music) seems to be particularly effective on background anxiety. Is this its appeal? That is, where more energetic-upbeat or dramatic material helps one push through apathy, this can help one (me) endure some baseline low-level discomfort that I currently cannot otherwise resolve. It’s inobtrusive enough to let my thoughts go anywhere else, for doing anything else, at the same time, but keeps the scared hypervigilant dysphoric beast somewhat focused. I am thankful for it.

pneuma relish

I went to the Mesopotamian clinic and spoke of sacred mé with Dr Enki. His English was middling, but we did spend more than an hour, he wanted very much to explain the history of his method, and was interested in my microbiome research perspective. Of course it was a sales pitch, but together with what I already know, I really do think this is the surgery I should have, for a few reasons.

First, he confirmed what I expected, namely that Thai-style scrotal graft meshworks involve a need to grow new epithelium. This matches very well with the granulation tissues, scar ring contraction, and so forth. The Mesopotamian combined method instead uses urethral, penile and full-thickness scrotal skin to reduce the extent to which the graft/flap combination is stretched. I can very well see this in line with avoiding the hard part of Thai recovery.

Second, dilators are flexible, with a soft tiny placeholder there in between them. I can likewise see how this makes for easier dilations.

Third, the use of urethral tissue really is interesting – it avoids a scar just around the urethral opening when done this way, and may even provide lubrication.

Fourth, he actually showed me statistics of complications and clarified they even work with a Babylon gynaecologist in case they happen.

So this is, in principle, the surgery I should have. To schedule a date they need either proof of insurance coverage or a payment plan. Costs may exceed what I thought, because it’s probably another 10K for the hospital stay itself. So the battle rages on. They’ll send me details of this, and I will try my damnedest to actually get insurance to cover it; otherwise that’s another major cost factor. Which I can deal with probably over the course of the waiting period, if I forgo rebuilding an emergency buffer.

So going now seriously to aim for insurance coverage. And probably looking at a date next fall or so. Nurturing a hope that by that time, circumstances may be right for loved ones to come stay with me and assist me. I believe it will be so.

This does break my fervent desire for SRS recovery done by age 40. But… getting it done safely and well, and without too difficult recovery, may really be more important. I feel I can be (a) patient here.

fresh hells

Some nasty surprises re: the offer the company gives me for home refurbishment. If they charge that much, they break my time frame for when I can have SRS with Mesopotamia, assuming I still have to pay out of pocket.

But I also recognize more and more how there seems to be way too many Suporn girls needing hours and hours of dilation six months or more in. That is not an option. I must go to Mesopotamia. Next week I have a consultation with them.

So the as-yet uncertainty on the financing has me feeling very visceral terror again. I must work out a solution. Most elegant would be if I can somehow get my health insurance to pay for it. Not having to pay 30K out of pocket would be useful. It may still mean it takes longer and at this point I really. Don’t. Want. To. Wait.

I hate these misshapen parts and want them gone, need to know they will be as soon as possible. I just have to be smart about it.

I’ll find a solution. It’s what I do.

slopes.com

Everything happening at once makes processing it a worthy challenge.

I keep exploring surgery stories. It’s clear Suporn method SRS often works perfectly fine and that healing, though cumbersome, works well. But in the restricted channels I have access to, there seems to be at least a percent who has ridiculously difficult recovery. I worry about that. Specifically, I worry about dilations taking 3-4 hours as late as month 6 or 8 post-op, because I do not want to jeopardize building a life and a career if I can avoid it. For young girls with less responsibilities, this may matter less.

But I need surgery, and I don’t want penile inversion. Specifically, I don’t want any method that does not fully make use of the glans material or that does not make labia minora out of foreskin to keep the nerves in place. So the Mesopotamian clinic may be my best bet, as it’s stated to be a hybrid of inversion and the Thai method. In less than a month I consult with them.

The biggest challenge is, what if I am wrong and that is still as hard to recover from? What if it still has a Suporn-style contraction period of the scar rings during which everything becomes very difficult? I’ve searched as much as I can, joined more groups and applied for access to image servers. Asked people. But of course I can’t know if there is some 1-2% of women having it this bad also with that method. It sucks to have to make decisions on imperfect evidence.

The other factors: with Dr Bank, I can have surgery for 15K. Assume 6K for travel and accommodation in Thailand, and perhaps another 3K for same for a later revision surgery. 24K total, possibly tax-deductible. Mesopotamia, would be 20K + 10K for the second step. So all in all more expensive but not that bad. Might still be tax deductible. And there is a change my insurance will cover it, if I can convince them the therapy I did way back then still counts for trans purposes, even if it is unrelated.

There is also a benefit to the clinic being in the same country at least as my beloved home in Babylon. And it’s said that the Suporn clinic are very difficult to deal with if you have complications.

A drawback certainly: It may take up to a year or more longer with Mesopotamia. That means more time to prepare but I… argh.

All in all though, actually making preparations makes me realize that “petty” things – i.e. related to path not end – can matter to me. It matters that the clinic is close and how hard recovery is, whereas perfect aesthetics or being healed by 40 may not as much. And this is the case not with regards to pain, I am more and more sure I can take any amount of pain for a limited period. But rather with respect to fear. I’m afraid of being afraid but more to the point, I am afraid of gambling too much with other parts of my life project. I cannot be off work, or very improductive, for a year.

That’s not to say I can go on without SRS. I will have either of these two forms of SRS as soon as I can.

mount point

Things are heavy but what else is new?

Arriving at the conference hotel I’d felt good about my presentation all day, though I was tired and irritable. The receptionist greeted me with a “Hello… (pause) … sir.”. I mumbled by “It’s madam, actually”, don’t think I got a response. I smiled emptily and checked in and went to my room, then had waves and waves of body loathing staring at my face wondering what was wrong, writing despairing messages to loved ones, tweeting, and leaving an unsatisfied review. Cried and worked and delayed rest feeling shocked.

They tried to knock on my door, or phone me, later. Then left a letter of apology in my room with some chocolates. Fairly patronizing letter not getting the point, and sweet milk chocolate is not quite what I want most to be tempted by as a vegan on a diet. Never mind that though. I suppose I shall have to talk to them and try to explain at least a little. I am not offended or angry, I believe in no malice here. I’m just hurt, as a consequence of honest misgendering, for what it implies about my misshapen carcass body and disgusting voice. They weren’t offensive, they were careless, and I was hurt. So would they be if they were in trans modality. It will be less work emotionally to try to tell them so I can do my political duty, then I’ll just leave that chocolate behind. I have a surgery to starve for.

Understanding now better how oppressed groups experience pressure to perform emotional labour to soothe the guilt of those who hurt us.

So on that surgery, I keep moving and preparing but I feel messed up because everything happens at once and I’ve had no time to let anything sink in. I have to, so I can process. I have to let myself rest so I can do that.

It was shocking to read those worst-case scenarios but I am beginning to reach an equilibrium again, perhaps.

Someone described her Chonburi organ (the sensate area inside the vestibule left from the glans) as looking “like a penis stuck in there, scaring away any cis lesbians”. One photo I saw looked weird but others do not, and really this is a selling point of the method, it lets material be maximally reused. I can think of it as the hidden part of the cis female clitoris. I think any technique not retaining nerves would scare me more than this does. And if it looked that bad, then the Suporn clinic would not be so renowned.

On the other end, someone described her clitoris as being not very sensitive at all. Ultimately, this I know is a risk. But it must depend on individual factors. I can’t see any way in which any other surgeon could do this better, or more consistently.

So scratch those two worries.

One said she hurt whenever she grew aroused. This would be swelling somehow. She noted that some other women who had been growers rather than showers before had similar issues. This is again something hard to address. It can’t be that common, and while it probably depends on how much erectile tissue is removed/retained, that also is not something that speaks against the Suporn clinic. Chettawut is said to remove more, but I won’t go to him because of how he drops you if you have complications. Mesopotamia are said to retain material causing the “bulbus”. So here, I don’t really feel it keeps me back. It may end up being an issue, but I can’t reduce the risk and I’m hoping I would be able to deal with it if it goes poorly. Honestly the description sounded much like vestibulitis, hurting while swelling, so it may be an infection or skin thing also. Can I prevent it? Not really. The risk is there with the surgeons I consider.

Major worry is the issue with dilation. Scar contraction, granulation tissue, so that getting to depth is painful and takes long. Some needing much time even years post-op. That is one of the greatest fears, that I will find that down the line I still spend lots of painful and boring time dilating, so much that it detracts from my work or relationships, not just during recovery but thereafter.

This fear is real, it happens to people. I know that it can happen. If it does, I can wait and see, but not too long. I’d have to seek help, removing scar or granulation tissues. For that I’d need to go back to Thailand, or void my warranty and have another work on me. It might not work. There exists a worst-case scenario where I’d have to let it grow closed and be no-depth, if I heal bad and have no life. I’d mourn it like the lost uterus or XX karyotype or girlhood. I don’t want that. But surely it can’t be more than a fraction where it goes so bad?

It can still happen. I’d have to set a time limit after which I am not OK with trying more. And I wonder if the Mesopotamian “combined method” which uses partial inversion heals easier? Then again, that uses urethra inside, there will still be stitches to stretch. I don’t think I’m so afraid I’d refrain from the Suporn method because of this.

So I just have to be aware of my fallbacks. In the worst case, after years of trying, let my vagina close up. Or go back to Thailand or get Mesopotamia or another to help remove scars. But mostly, try my very best to avoid it, make the chance low.

That’s probably the greatest worry. The fistula worry is grand and terrible, but if I stay two months in Thailand then surely it would show up if it was the case? Though I might not know. But if it does happen, I would go back to Thailand – I must budget for that. It will still be cheaper than Mesopotamia privately. It also happened more than they said – maybe even no less often than in my native country. But I somehow trust that it can be fixed if it does, just like when giving birth. The worry of not detecting it early enough; not sure how scary that is. Significantly but I don’t have the energy for that fear? Fear that it will happen if I dilate carelessly, in the pushing-through stage. That is a worry. And a reason not to be made too deep. And to be careful dilating. So mostly it speaks to the above concern on dilation becoming a big issue.

What else? Someone experienced granulation issue so bad it needed revision. Some had wound separation. These… I think I can get through these.

Someone had urinary incontinence which is extremely scary, as is having to wear pads from incomplete healing for very long. The latter goes back to the dilation/healing part. But the former, if that is lasting somehow, would need treatment. But that sort of treatment I think it is known how it is carried out.

So how do I actually feel? Afraid I won’t be thin and healthy enough by December but I can deal with that. Super scared for the poor healing outcome, more than from graft rejection, more than from the fistula or incontinence, because those latter all are so relatively unlikely, and likely to be already discovered in Thailand and dealt with. Scared of chronic pain and sensitivity loss but don’t see any other surgeon being less risky there.

So it comes down to healing/dilation difficulty vs non-inversion method in the first place. I am guaranteed to regret an inversion vagina, whereas I will only regret a lost vagina in the unlikely case of persistent bad healing. So that does not hold me back.

Then that leaves me with the fear of how to go about it if I need help. Some hours by train away, or a long and expensive flight away.

That in turn balanced against cost and how long it will take to wait, or more to the point, how long until details are certain.

I seem to calm down. It’s like when I was talking with several loanbrokers, or several employers. Feeling bad over that. And it was scary to decide on a loan and apartment.

I may end up just having the surgery with Bank. We’ll see. The need is to know what to do when anything goes wrong. I probably will do as I planned and continue to prepare for.

There was a reception and I drank lots of wine. Then I spoke to the hotel representative. It was OK. Maybe they don’t understand but maybe the understand a little better now. I hope. They may do better with the next guest. I’ll eat their chocolate and drink their complementary drink, and I’ll be fine.

And the next hotel where I am misgendered I will do the same, and so on, until I no longer am.

weight

OK, the fear remains. I really worry over issues emerging meaning I would have to return to Thailand or not be helped without significant stress. This may mean I will end up going with the Mesopotamian clinic anyway, even if it takes another year of wait. I haven’t decided yet. That would be my second change of surgeon, if so. Need to talk to my therapist about it also. Would feel bad either way. I wish this were simpler.

One way or another I will have it. Will continue with prep plans for Bank for some time, but exploring the PSC option. If I conclude I want that, I will switch there and it will be my final choice.