Wednesday, March 08, 2000
"My Orchidectomy Experience"
By: Jamie Lauren Wyrick (Wednesday, March 08, 2000)
Tuesday January 25th, 2000
My appointment to see the endocrinoligist went well today! He renewed my hormones perscription for the third time. And no problems were noted. I had been especially looking forward for todays visit for several weeks. Ever since I disclosed to my therapist that I was going to ask for help in locating a surgeon to perform an Orchidectomy.
For those visiting this site, but aren't sure what an Orchidectomy is, ... it is the removal of the testes. Many transsexuals will seek this procedure, because it removes most of the 'male' hormone, testosterone from their system. There are other factors that produce this hormone in the body, but this is the largest producer of the hormone, by far. Even genetic women have at least, some testosterone in their system, just not as much as genetic men do since they have no testes. Many times surgeons will wait to do this procedure for a variety of reasons. The usual reason given, that as long as the testes remain inside the scrotum, the normal function the body provides, helps keep the skin slightly flexible and 'stretched' so that a surgeon can harvest just a bit more tissue to line line the vaginal with. Without enoug tissue for this surgery, the transsexual must 'donate' skin tissue from other areas of their body, which is painful and can leave a scar. Or, else, there simply won't be enough length for the new vagina as a genetic females would.
Another reason put forward, that I find absolutely ludicrous!, is, that the surgeons are so many times fearful to perfom an Orchidectomy because the person may still change their mind, and be sorry for such a serious folly! After all, once the testes are removed surgically, they are gone forever! I agreed the surgeons, and various others that consider them selves 'Gatekeeper's' should be cautious, but there should be a sooner point they step back and let the individual make their own decision.
The endocrinoligist agreed to see if a surgeon could be located, and within minutes, they were arranging an appointment for me to meet with the surgeon, on the floor directly below his office. The earliest I could be scheduled, however, was March 3rd. The meeting will determine if I will be considered a canidate for the procedure.
Friday, March 03, 2000
My appointment to meet the doctor regarding the Orchidectomy was at 9:00 AM this morning.
I wore a button up the front, red skirt, that has a split of about 6 inches at the hem, and the length is only a few inches below the knees. My red heels, hosiery. A short-sleeved black top, made out of the stretchy, spun material, that will readily show any shape beneath it. (During the course of his examination, the surgeon found out, that except for my wig, he was seeing the real me, as I really do look). Bright red nail polish, 'fingers and toes'. My best watch, bracelet, rings, perfumed, and body powdered, - all tastefuly done, of course. 'smile.
I arrived at the clinic on time. They took a urine sample. I filled out some forms, mostly inquiring what I was there for? The usual questions regarding allergies to medications, etc.
My blood pressure, is still high, 140/100+. And my weight, since October, 99, has dropped again, from 148, to 136 on January 25th at the endocrinologists office, to todays new weight of 122 pounds. (My height, by the way, is around 5'-7").
Shortly around 9:00 AM I was led back to one of the examination rooms, and sat in a chair for about 10 minutes before the surgeon arrived. He begin the process of filling out his own forms, and asking me questions as to what, exactly, I was there for?
I explained that my endocrinoligist had made the appointment for me the latter part of January, at my request, to be scheduled for an Orchidectomy. He sat back, and said, "I don't do anything like that, except during the SRS, itself. Because it really needs to be done at that time, not before. We need to harvest every bit of skin we can as possible to help form the length of the vagina."
At that point, my heart absolutely, burst. Another delay for something I feel I must have to help me heal...
We kept talking, and he continued asking me questions; about the length of time I'd been on the hormones, how long I'd felt like this, my family's reaction, regarding the work issue, did I have any idea about the financial cost for the SRS, etc? He kept talking, and kept asking questions. Once commenting that he'd have to send me to a psychiatrist, for their evaluation that I was transsexual and an operatable canidate for the surgery, he'd need their letter. When he heard that I'd already completed that criteria, he brightened, sit up in the chair, and asked if I'd mind letting him examine me?
The examination of my testes proved that I had indeed been on hormones now for at least a year. And I noticed he was smiling now. He sat back down and begin writing again, and said that since I hadn't been circumcised, there would be more skin to harvest, and how good that was! (I can finally say, that I found 'something', right about that thing, finally ...)
He was still smiling at me, and begin saying that most of his transsexual patients were much younger than I, usually around 23+ a few years. That they usually stood the best chance for intergrating and their ability to pass in public, though he had done one person around 52 years of age. But that person had to have numerous years of counseling and therapy prior. He seemed to study my face for reactions, I suppose, or perhaps he was mentally accessing my capabilities, to understand he was letting me down and what my reaction would be when he released me to walk out of the room ...
But he was still smiling. And I was becoming more puzzled. I was still hurting inside that he couldn't do the surgery. But why was he still asking me these questions, and still talking to me? ... My heart was beating faster now ...
He again stated that my health indicated I'd be a good candidate for the SRS. And asked me, again, if I'd not had any surgeries prior? And gave me a look, like, Tell me the truth." When I again, said, "No," he smiled his broadest yet, and said, You're going to be a very pretty girl, - you already are becoming one. You're still undergoing changes, and it's obvious that the changes are certainly beneficial to you." He even said I would not require a trachea shave, to lessen the protrusion of the adams apple, that is so prominent in most men. That he's had 'women' in the clinic before with much more prounced features. And, also suggested, that no facial surgery would be needed, either.
I decided the surgeon was just trying to lessen his earlier denial for the surgery. The lump was again starting to form in my throat.
He asked me what surgeries, I thought I needed?
I responded that the SRS was the most important to me, and then maybe a breast argumentation, if I could afford it. Though, my therapist says I won't need it, and for now, I, was inclined to follow her advice.
He asked to examine my breasts. I pulled my top up and lifted my bra. He examined the breasts growth and gently checked them for any lumps, and announced that I was not going to need an argumentation. That my breasts would grow for about 3 years from the start of the time that I began taking the hormones. I should expect continued breast growth, and that for my body shape, mass and sze, my breasts will be perfect, then. That if I choose to have it done anyway, I would not be as happy with the breast's sensitivity afterward. And in about 3 years from now, I'd actually be seeking a reduction!
After a few more questions that I now felt were literally pointless, he left the room, saying he'd shortly return. Leaving me to wonder why he hadn't just finished his interview and told me that I could now leave. When he came back in, he was beaming broadly and announced I could be placed on schedule for surgery in one week, on March 08, 2000, at 1:30 PM, ... "If I wanted it?"
Wednesday, March 08, 2000
10:10 PM
I had my Orchidectomy surgery today. I haven't really slept since returning home; mostly a few minutes dozing here and there. Pepper, my cat, seemed to have sensed that I've had something done to myself. He seemed to sense it as soon as I entered the house. Or, perhaps, he could smell the hospital or surgerical odors or me. But before I could sit down and eat the Roast Beef sandwich I'd purchased at a Hardees Restaurant down the street from my home, he'd thrown up twice from nervousness because of my being gone today, so that I had to stoop and bend and clean that up off the floor.
The reception desk at the clinic required my check for the surgery as soon as I entered since I had chosen to pay cash, and not go through the hospital's billing department to set up a payments plan. The woman was really sweet, she asked if I couldn't turn in at least part of it to my inurance company? I explained I'd no insurance since December 10, 1999, when I was laid off (fired is the word they should have used).
My Orchidectomy surgery was scheduled at 1:30 PM at the University of Kentucky Medical Center. The surgery has been completed for several hours. It is now after 10:00 PM. the surgery is finished and I am so pleased it is. And very pleased with the results. And that now, the healing process can begin. For me, the surgery isn't the only thing healing, now, either. I can actually feel a mending of my soul and inward being as well. One of the things, that has kept me separated and distant from those whose gender I feel a closeness and a kinship to in my heart, has finally been removed. I know the testes are gone, because I asked the doctor to let me see them after they were removed. For me, being able to see them, was a 'closure', if you will, of a part of my life that has always caused me such grief and feelings of discomfort. I'm still left with their unpleasant memories. But now, I can start living my life without their interference.
I still have not experienced any 'pain' yet. I assume the previous pain-killer used is somehow still in effect? Though the surgeon had said that it would last about 6 hours. And gave me four tablets I could take if the pain bothered me. I'm moving slowly, but not from hurting, or the surgery. I'm just mindful, that I have went through a surgical procedure, whether my body chooses to acknowledge it, or not.
(I've been sitting here now for about 40 minutes, I can feel a slight pressure/tugging inside where the dissolving stitches are holding things together. But, still no real pain, yet.) What I do feel is being caused by the strain of sitting and typing this from the uncomfortable position I have my chair in. I don't won't to pull and tug on household furniture just yet. My typing chair is one of those rocker/gliders. I can literally sit here for hours with my back to the world, just as my cat Pepper sits sometimes, and rock, and type at the same time.
This always makes me think about a science fiction novella I read as a teenager. I've long since forgotten the title, author and the story line, except the 'male hero', a Private Investigator, enters his office and describes his secretary. It was this description of the secretary that I can always remember being able to relate to. Maybe, about my own age now, wore glasses.She had a rocking chair and would type wile she rocked and chrocheted and read at the same time. She was a mess as a secretary, and couldn't type worth a darn, ... but she was always there when he needed her. Assisting him, giving him support, ideas, etc. I always liked the description given to her. That was the first story I'd ever read, where I felt the actual hero wasn't the man, but the 'woman behind the the man'. I've often wondered it that wasn't the author's intent all along in writing it?
The nurse told me to completely disrobe in the room that had been chosen to do the surgery in, and I was given one of the flowered printed hospital gowns to wear and told to leave the opening in the back. The surgeons came in almost as soon as I'd gotten my clothing off and the gown on, and said it was fine with them for me to leave my jewelry on. I was glad they let me wear it. It was not to be the orginal surgeon I'd spoken with last week, there was to be a different surgeon, and a younger doctor-in-training. The younger was certainly very attractive, or, I suppose I should describe him as being very young and handsome! 'smile' I signed their release forms that I understood that with the surgery I could no longer have any more children. I laughed at them over that. I don't have any children. And also signed that I wasn't agreeing to the surgery as a experimental subject, and few other reasons that I was not having the surgery for.
I was told to lay down on the table, and the doctor's left again. The nurse covered me with a white sheet and left for a moment and when she returned had a shot prepared to administer to help me to relax. She told me that it would take about 20 minutes for the shot to take effect and handed me a magazine to read if I wanted. Though she had said the shot wouldn't do so, I closed my eyes and was almost immediately asleep. I'd been running the past week on mostly adrenline. I awoke rested when she came back in to the room and was moving around getting things oriented and moved around for the surgeons to perform the surgery.
And I stayed awake throughout the entire surgery.
The doctors returned and I was instructed to slide down towards the edge of the table. The surgeons pulled the two extensions out, one for each leg, and further instructed me to spread my legs apart to where they could step inside them and could more esaily access and do their job, and placed my feet, "on the stirrups", not in to them.
I think that was really neat! "Really!" I'm awake, holding my legs apart like that, on my own, so that the doctor's could do their task. The experienced doctor made the cut in the scrotum using a scapel, (I did feel the initial cut, ever so slightly, almost like a small sting from a scratch when the water first hits it, then no more pain). They used a laser to make most of the cuts after they'd entered the scrotum and to cautize. Anytime the surgeon's were cutting, if I told them there was any pain, the surgery was immediately stopped, and more pain killer administered at the site. This happened about a dozen times, or so.
Each testes took several minutes for removal using the laser, as they were making the cuts in small increments through the layers of tissue. They did not, just cut the testes off. The doctors actually went up inside and completed their work. The surgery was performed correctly, with removal of everything that should be removed.
'smile' I'm sitting here in the semi-darkness in my long gown, typing this and drinking hot tea, and gently rocking. I could only feel happier, and more at peace, if I were at home sometime after the main GRS, Genital Reassignment Surgery) ...
As I commented earlier, the surgeon that I had spoken with the week prior, did not perform the surgery. But, instead would step in to the room from time to time to check on the progress. I absolutely loved my two surgeons. They were both so very kind and sweet throughout the surgery and would chat with me or answer any questions that I asked them.
I noticed in the very beginning, I was referred to amongst the surgeon's as, 'he', this, or that. But shortly after the second testes removal, I was referenced to, from then on, completely, and totally, as, 'she'. Somehow when they begin saying it, I actually found it very comforting. I don't think I could, or would have felt as validated in their referring to me as a 'she', prior to, or any sooner, somehow. It made me feel really, really good inside though, hearing myself referenced to like that, though. I felt as though the problem of what to call me had been settled and was no longer an issue, of being 'side-stepped'. Finally, I didn't feel as though I were just being placated with the term for a space. It just made me feel so good inside. I really have no point of reference to base the feeling on, except to that of peace, contentment, serenity, and tranquility.
My Orchidetomy surgery was completed at 4:15 PM, I was off the table and rolling back towards London, my home town, by 4:30 PM.
The woman at the front desk was really sweet. At my earlier appointment the week prior, and when I came in today. She also, had referenced me only the 'one' time, as a woman When I had entered last week, she had looked up smiling, and asked, "Ma'am, may I help you?" Until she was told different, because of my 'male name still on the necessary papers I'd had to bring with me. Afterward, no reference to my gender, one way or the other was made again.
As I was standing there for her to schedule me for a follow-up visit, she was practically beaming and really extra nice, and used my female name, and similiar points of references numerous times throughout our conversation.
She was surprised that I was already back on my feet, smiling looking so very happy, and 'she' was very surprised that I would be driving myself back to London, almost 70 miles away!
_______________________________________
It's a little after midnight now. I wanted to get these thoughts written while they're still fresh in my memory.
I'm feeling very happy, right now. Still, no pain. Not really tired, either. I guess all the pain, heartache's, and harrassment's I'd endured through the years helped me ... they made me a stronger person in some respects, ... though making me weaker in other areas ...
Thursday, March 09, 2000
5:30 AM
I got back out of bed at 5:00 AM. I've only dozed, on and off since 1:30 AM.
I'm sitting here in the dark, quitely in my gown. Still at peace. Still happy about everything. Still experiencing no pain. I've taken none of the pain medication the surgeons gave to me. Also, I haven't used an ice pack yet. I don't seem to have any noticable swelling, either. That's probably from my laying so much.
I forgot to mention, that the bleeding was well controlled during the surgery. Considering they did not just do, a 'cut-and-snip' and sew back up operation. The two surgeons conversed a lot between themselves, about retracting this tissue, cutting 'that' away, 'that needs to be removed as well'. Yet, when I stood up to get dressed, the absorbent pad beneath where I had lain, only had a stain of about 12 inches in circumference.
I mentioned about the nurse being in attendance. She stayed in the room throughout most of the operation. And assisted very little. She looked through a magazine once. I felt good about the fact that she was there. My guess is that her purpose for being there, besides assisting where needed, was mainly, it made me feel better, since I do consider myself 'female', and I wasn't being, just 'dumped' in to a room with 'two' strange men. I felt better, having another woman there, 'almost' a feeling that 'she' would understand something of the emotions I was going through. And it helped again, to validate, in my heart, that I was being considered a 'female'.
I remember reading a medical article several years ago, that because of (so many suits being filed against doctors for improper conduct and behaviors, and such), that male doctor's especially should rarely see their female patients alone without a female nurse in attendance.
Anyway, this is the way I looked at it, right or wrong, ... I felt good about it.
I wore my short sleeve, striped dress that I feel good in. My hosiery, a half black slip, to mask any leakage stains and (3) pair of underpants, to help with any bleeding accidents afterward, (they proved totally unnecessary. The nurse said I could dress however I'd feel the most comfortable doing, so I left the pantyhose off, in case I would have to stop on the way home for bleeding or whatever. She was so sweet about that. And asked me if I would be able to feel comfortable leaving the room without my hose on?
I'd worn just what I'd have worn to see my therapist, or whatever. My watch, bracelet, other jewelry, perfumed, powdered, etc. The whole experience from start to finish, was actually, a 'feel good' type of thing. At no time, neither beforehand, while I was awaiting the surgery, did I dread, or worry over it. And even now, I haven't wondered about any, "What ifs"?
The surgery has been only the second time that I have experienced being treated as a genetic female. My first genital examination by the endocrindologist, to see if he would approve me for a prescription to start female hormones, was the only other time. He instructed me to disrobe, and put on the hospital gown and lay on the table first for a breast exam, and a white sheet was placed over me. Which at that time, there weree no 'breasts' to check for anything. 'smile' After that I was asked to slide down to the end of the table with my knees up. I watched his face, and he seemed to approve of the fact that I seemed to be all right with that. And appeared to be comfortable with the position that it had placed me in to. With the sheet forming the little tent. 'smile'
I actually enjoyed te experience that day. But it's never been repeated. Just the usual, 'dry' exam, of breasts growth exam, and asked, if any pains, etc.
So I enjoyed Wednesdays surgery. I got to use the stirrups. "Okay, so I'm being silly." It was just something that I've looked forward to forever, as being treated as a female. 'smile'
____________________________________________
3:30 PM
After I was up for a while this morning, I only lay in bed about 30 minutes and got back up and heated a can of Chicken Noodle soup. I wasn't really hungry, but I made myself eat at least two-thirds of the can before stopping.
I was back up again at 10:30 AM. I had been told that I could remove the bandage the surgeon's had used, any time this morning, and could take a shower. I was cautioned to not take a sit down bath for at least a week, if not just a bit longer. There was hardly any blood on the guaze. And none had leaked or stained on any clothing.
I've taken the antibiotics that were given me to take today, that's over with for the next 24 hours. I was in the shower for about 10 minutes when I got sick at my stomach and light headed, so that I had to hurry out of the shower and sat on the commode for about fifteen minutes until I had finished air-drying, and the sickness had finally stopped.
I lay back down in the bed and stayed there until 1:30 PM. And have been back up, since.
(I literally did, almost black out before I got out of the shower. I was lucky. If I had blacked out, I would have taken a really nasty fall in the tub.) I was just fortunate that I was expecting it to happen. I anticipated the warm water and the shower would do that to me. But it happened so quickly, that it was on me before I had time to react any faster.
So far, no pain. There is a very, very minor discomfort inside. Something akin to the slightest tugging at areas, inside my tummy. "smile'
I think I've passes the 'main hurdle'. I'll still take it a bit easy. Until the stitches are dissolved, I could still get things infected.
Friday, March 10, 2000
You might be wondering, if by now, how I am still doing? Or, if doubts, or having 'second thought' had begun to creep in, yet? I guess, for the most part, I've broken any expected pain barrier. I simply did not experience pain! Not any of the pain pills were used that I was given! Nor did I have to have the perscription for any pain medication filled either! I hope that was a good omen, that whenever I can have the surgery I've sough all my life, that I won't experience too much pain, then, either. (Please, I caution you. I've heard from others that did experience a lot of pain. Whether this was due to the type of procedure the surgeons chose, my own abilities to mask the pain, perhaps from the 'longing-for' that continues to help numb my life, I can't honestly say why I have had no pain. So if you have this done, be smatt and follow your own surgeon's instructions throughout!)
I assure anyone reading this that I am happy. If it hadn't been right for me, then as far as I am concerned, I would have made the wrong choice, and be so sad and miserable now. I'm still so glad that the testes are gone. And that I'm now in my third day of healing. As for the toxins that "Fred and Barney" were pumping in to me, only another transsexual might understand the pain we feel about that, what it does to our heart and soul ... I still "Thank, God," that the testes are finally gone. I can't imagine their loss ever causing me grief. In fact, during the surgery, I actually giggled, and even laughed as I heard the surgery's progression. I'm sure the doctor's, at first, assumed, I was high, perhaps from too much pain medicatios. When they finally realized, that I was indeed that happy, their own tone changed. I felt like they quit wondering if at any moment, any cut they made, that I would ask them to stop, and begin to breathe a 'mental' sigh of relief.
I still can not fanthom, or begin to understand, why men are so fearful of something like this. Some women, too, feel that the loss of those 'two' little pieces of tissue's are so terrible.
It would have been nice to have been able to share all the 'special' moments I've experienced since the very beginning, or could have experienced, even my surgery with someone that cared, ... special moments, not shared, just aren't the same in telling about them later ... something that made you laugh or to shed a tear just doesn't carry the same meaning, does it?
I hope that by my sharing some of the wonderful and beautiful things happening, you would at least, be able to see and experience some of the emotions and things, I, myself, have felt, with me.
I got up at 5:00 AM this morning, and only laid down on the bed a few times to ease the pressure that builds on the surgical site, not really uncomfortable, just a bother ... Today's shower went better. I stayed in the shower longer and shaved my legs, arms, and my underarms. And got my jeans, bra and top on before I laid back down from a feeling of 'stitches' sort of pain. It stopped immediately.
I miss wearing my main cosmetics. This is the first time since going full-time December 27th, 1999, that I'm not in full make-up. *giggle* I refer to it, as being in full battle mode! In a way it is. Each time I walk out of the house, I must assume someone may say or even do something to me. The town I live in is 'small'. Though, I've only ran in to 2 person's that have made snickering comments to a friend. Other than the paranoid employer's that 'laid' me off, no one else, seemingly, gives a damn! I've just worn lipstick since Thursday because I don't know when I might need to crawl in to bed for some reason.
I washed the make-up off Thursday, finally, that I had worn since my surgery on Wednesday. I really didn't want to remove it. I felt like a child finally having to take her "happy" clothing off. The make-up I was stripping away in the shower, was the make-up I had worn to the surgery, and during the surgery. And the make-up I was wearing at the moment when the two doctor's and the nurse started saying, "she". I could only imagine what it would feel like to hear "she" soon after the GRS ... and never, ever again be denied that I am female ... I was so glad they let me wear my make-up and my jewelry. It actually helped me to feel better being seen. And I'm so glad I was awake throughout everything.
Perhaps, you the reader may have, worried for me. Or have been concerned that the choice made was indeed correct and right. You may have even been concerned sometime after the surgery that I might experience depression or a feeling of 'let down', because things were still the same in my life otherwise, just as they've always been. Or, that I would suddenly realize the 'folly' of what I had done and now it was too late. I can only relay to you my feelings now, and that is happiness, contentment, more peace than I've felt since I can remember, when. These words and these feelings are from being written from my heart and soul right now. Because, I feel that I've at least accomplished one part of the surgery I've sought for so many years now.
I've experienced similiar emotions and feelings and inner stirrings with anything that has helped move me closer to my goal. My hormones never caused me a moment of upset or uneasiness.
I was so happy, I felt so right inside that first evening that I begin taking them. I still tremble inside, each time I take another hormone pill. Something I wanted and needed and prayed so hard for since I was a teenager and the first harsh sprouts of coarse beard began growing on my face. No woman wants a beard! The hormones helped me to at least have hope, despite seemingly odds against it, that someday I would reach GRS. The hormones were like a tranqulizer that made it endurable, somehow. Even helping me survive the various forms of harrassments I was subjected to the last year where I worked.
I still haven't bothered looking at the scrotum, yet. When I shower, I let the water and the lather run down over the area. I don't won't to tear a stitch, which I know I wouldn't. And I haven't even held a mirror to see yet. It's not that I'm afraid of 'what I'll see', - rather, 'it's what I won't see there, - "yet".' I hurt for the main surgery so badly. I want my GRS surgery, just as soon as it's humanly possible for me to have it. I pray that when the moment comes, I'll have already sold my home, and will be able to schedule and pay the doctor without furrther delays. But the doctor's require their criteria be filled first. They are so scared that, someone, myself, or they, will make a mistake.
I had such a happy day Wednesday, I really did. (I actually love going to my doctor's. I really do.) No one enjoys having to see a doctor, or to have surgery. *giggle* But I was like a child going to get a treat for being 'really, really' good for such a long time. I was that happy, and that excited. I think that you who are reading this, would have laughed at me until your sides would have hurt, if you could have known.
The nurse that led me back to the room, must have, at first, thought I was on something, or just crazy, because I was so happy, and smiling. I was practically bouncing in my footsteps as I followed close on her heels down the corridor! "After all, here's someone about to undergo an operation to remove their testes, and have two men they'd never seen before messing around inside their tummy, cutting, stitching with sharp needles, thread, and cauterizing, all while fully awake, and that was going to hurt! *giggle*
Monday March 13, 2000
I'm finishing this up now at 1:30 PM.
For those of you that have came to share this with me, I hope you will leave with a bit more than just the knowledge that I've shared here with you. You've also become a special part of my experience by reading about it. So in a way, though I was alone throughout this period of time, in a way, each and everyone one of you were there with me in spirit, now, if not in body then. Thank you, for taking the time to share something so important with me ...
"Gentle" {{{Hugs}}}. I really am feeling that, "I'm almost home, finally, after such a long and tiring journey." I can actually, almost see myself, as starting to be happy.
Love,
'Jamie Lauren'
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Thursday, March 16, 2000
It has now been a full week since the surgery was performed. I am still very happy that it has been done. However, I am also really angry over the fact, for what I deem, as the needless suffering because of the various criteria that I have had to endure and fulfill before receiving the GRS surgery. I feel better, I am happier because of the surgery. Everything I had hoped it would be, has come to pass, and more so for me. This is what makes me so angry at the current system. The same system that still tells me that I must endure a bit longer and a bit more to receive the surgery that will help to make my body congurent with my soul and heart.
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