OH SHIT, IT'S DR. TRAN!

Well, after nearly 4 years on T and living full-time as male, I'm finally doing something about a name change. In a little over an hour I get to go before the judge and do the whole "No, I'm not trying to get away from a debt or defraud anyone" thing. And my stupid birthname will be a thing of the past.

*EDIT*

'Tis official. Annoying birthname is now behind me.

And I'm still not telling what it was. Nyeh!

So I suppose it's time to entertain you, my legion of fans, with an actual update.

Let's start with the whole work thing. I am tired. So tired. Utterly, unequivocally, without limitations, truly tired. I work entirely too fucking hard for entirely too little fucking money. If an opportunity for advancement/permanent employment doesn't rear its head soon, I'm going to be forced to seek my fortunes elsewhere.

On the automotive front, getting my temperamental car back from the shop cost me $364. Give or take a few cents. All because the choke wouldn't set and the accelerator pump was toast. Well, and I asked them to replace the alternator because it was on its way out too. So, between the repair bills and the terrifyinghigh cost of gas that isn't going down anytime soon, I bought myself a second car as a daily driver. I'm keeping the Nova, hopefully to actually begin the process of restoring it and making it all pretty and shiny again. In the meantime, this is what I'm driving. Runs and drives like a top. The stereo is missing the faceplate though. The lady who runs the place gave me a replacement stereo, but I'll need to pick up a wiring harness for it. That is, unless I can get hold of a replacement faceplate. I found a place online that allegedly carries them, but they're showing them as out of stock.

The downside to buying a new car is new expenses. I now have a $240 car payment for the next 18 months. And my insurance went up roughly $30 a month thanks to having to have comprehensive and collision coverage.

On the pet front, a week from Monday Walter goes in for The Snip. I hope this stops his constant yowling and whining. It's getting old.

In medical news, I'm coming up on 3 years on T in May, and 3 years since I quit smoking in July. On April 12 I have my pre-LASIK consultation, and at that point I should know which procedure they want to do to me, and how long I'll be out of commission afterwards. The worst part looks to be the first 24 hours. No TV, no computer, no reading. WTF am I supposed to do with myself for 24 hours? 24 hours with no innertubes? *sob* Guess I'll just sleep.

Huh. Lookit that. It's bedtime already. This whole "responsible adult" thing just isn't what it looked like in the brochure. I want a refund.

Aint it fascinating how, with a simple pronoun change, the relevance in a set of song lyrics just jumps out at you when driving down the freeway? And now, my own little bastardized version of...

Avril lavigne-Nobodys Home

I couldn't tell you why he felt that way,
He felt it everyday.
And I couldn't help him,
I just watched him make the same mistakes again.

What's wrong, what's wrong now?
Too many, too many problems.
Don't know where he belongs, where he belongs.
He wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where he lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry his eyes.
Broken inside.

Open your eyes and look outside, find the reasons why.
You've been rejected, and now you can't find what you left behind.
Be strong, be strong now.
Too many, too many problems.
Don't know where he belongs, where he belongs.
He wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where he lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry his eyes.
Broken inside.

His feelings he hides.
His dreams he can't find.
He's losing his mind.
He's fallen behind.
He can't find his place.
He's losing his faith.
He's fallen from grace.
He's all over the place.
Yeah,oh

He wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where he lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry his eyes.
Broken inside.

He's lost inside, lost inside...oh oh
He's lost inside, lost inside...oh oh yeah

I'm doing better since the last post. I'm still dealing with some fatigue, especially if I don't just sit and veg, but it's better than it was. There's really little or no pain to speak of. If I move too fast or too far in a particular direction or manner, I'll get a twinge, but nothing major. Just kind of a "hey stupid, don't do that."

So far (knock wood)the Seahawks are 2-0! Go Hawks! Now that I've said that, watch em end the season 2-14. :P

I've come to the conclusion that anyone who currently lives in, or has ambitions towards moving to Florida is either completely fucking insane, or so irretrievably retarded that navel lint could outwit them.

Purely out of morbid curiosity, when I heard that another American hostage had been beheaded and that the video was on the internet, I did a quick search to see if I could find it. I did. I watched it. I cannot for the life of me fathom how one man can do something that horrifying to another. Social, political, or religious differences notwithstanding, how can one human being perform such a brutal act on another? And in the name of God no less. It's sickening. Literally. And when they say "sawed his head off with a knife" they're not kidding boys and girls. The guy literally took an 18-inch knife and sawed it back and forth across the man's throat, systematically severing muscles, tendons, veins, arteries, etc. *shudder*

Okay, time for more rest. My sleep schedule is all screwed up. Probably helping contribute to the fatigue. Ah well.

Night all.

Is the big day. I check in at 6:30 in the morning. *bleh* I'm supposed to go into surgery at 8:30. Wish me well folks. Cross your fingers, pray, send good vibes, happy thoughts, and anything else you can think of. I'll let you know how it all went in a couple of days when I'm home again.

Yippee for me, I'll soon be uterus free! As well as ovaries and tubes. *smirk*

Off to bed. 5:45 comes awful damn early. *bleh again*

You can get shit done through Group Death. I just got an email from my gyno, and he got another doctor to concur that a hysto was a reasonable treatment option for PCOS. He said he's going to have his scheduler call me to set up times and dates for pre-op appointments and such. I'M GETTING MY HYSTO!!!!!!!!! *happy dance* Little do those cocksucking bureaucrats know that it's transitional. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *more happy dancing* I'll update on dates and times. For anybody reading this who's had one, what should I expect, and what kind of recovery time am I looking at? Rough guesstimates of course, everybody's different. *still more happy dancing*

Mike

Well, we still don't have our broadband connected. We think it may be a problem with the modem John brought with him, Comcast thinks there may be a "filter" on our cable line preventing the modem from establishing a connection. Either way, a tech is coming out to the house sometime tomorrow between noon and 4. Soooooooo, if we don't have broadband by the time I get home from work tomorrow, I'm going to throw a tantrum that would make a 2-year-old proud. Can you tell I'm a little frustrated?

Of course, the cable internet thing isn't the only thing I'm frustrated about. I'm noticing myself becoming tenser and testier as time goes on. Unfortunately, I don't seem to be able to control it with any effectiveness. It's not that I don't know what's causing it. I know all too well. And I'm getting fed up to HERE with this transitional limbo. I'm about to say "Fuck it" and cough up the $240 to go see Dr. Lawrence and be done with it, simply because she's the only one who's actually responded to any of my emails. Nevermind the fact that I still haven't heard back from that gyno about a hysto.

And, of course, thanks to all this bullshit, in the last few weeks my alcoholic consumption has increased. Nothing major, but rather than having a beer or two every couple of weeks, I'm having some drink or another damn near every night, just to help me relax enough to be able to sleep.

I'm at the point of just saying to hell with it, dealing with a hysto at a later date, continuing to try and lose weight at the same rate, and just starting T now. I'm trying so damn hard to deal with all of the health concerns that are plagueing everybody else, and it seems like not a one of them gives a flying fuck about my mental stability. Jesus, what do I have to do, threaten to practice swallowing bullets for them to get the clue? *insert primal scream of rage and frustration here*

*pant pant pant* Okay, I feel a little better now...

So I just got home from my bankruptcy hearing. Sounds like I'm officially bankrupt. And not just morally either. *smirk* So yeah, in 60 days I should receive my notification of discharge. Bleh, couldn't they pick a better word than discharge? *puke*

My doctor's appointment was interesting. She didn't even flinch when I mentioned being trans, but she did say very matter-of-fact that she's not "skilled" at administering T, and has no idea what blood work to do to monitor it. So, it looks like I'm going to have to hunt around for a different doc to write my script. A couple of good things did come out of the appointment though. She gave me a referral to OB/GYN to talk to someone a little more experienced in dealing with PCOS, and ordered a pelvic ultrasound. I see some guy named Dr. Greene on the 3rd of June, and on July 1st I have my ultrasound. Hopefully this Greene guy is willing to yank my innards out without much fuss. My doc did tell me not to mention being trans, so I'm going to have to come up with another angle to work. Maybe I can work the whole risk of breast cancer from estrogen therapy thing. We'll have to play that one by ear.

The oldest of the two kids we're taking care of is staying with her mom this week to see if she wants to live there permanently. The last few weeks have been one nasty attitude after another, and she claims to be happier staying there, but she doesn't know if she wants to stay there. Feh. She knows what she wants, she's just yanking everybody's chain for attention. I was 16 once. I know this routine. We're just tired of the bullshit.

Mary's still pushing me to keep the male version of my given name. I can understand her reasoning to a point, but there's not a chance in hell I'm going to adopt my bio dad's name. That fucker left before I was even born. Thanks all the same, but I'll take the name my mom woulda given me. So, I've got about 2 months to work on that one. I want to wait until my bankruptcy is fully discharged before I file a petition to change my name. Hopefully by that time I will have found a doctor to write my script (for less than an arm and a leg), and be close to starting T, if not already on it. We'll see how that goes.

So now that you're all bored to tears...

Mike

I just realized I update my website even less frequently than this thing. *smirk* But fear not, I have actually made an effort! I've just created a new page dedicated to my transition, and I hope to be updating it frequently, adding some pre-T pics, and hopefully beginning to document my experiences on T both with pictures and written accounts. Stay tuned!

Mike

p.s. Happy Mayday!

I just got off the phone with a local therapist, and I have an appointment next Thursday at 3. If I don't have to change it for any reason *crossing fingers* I'll be starting my therapy in less than a week! *happy dance* I'm so psyched! The lady sounds way nice, and it sounds like she's all ready and set to write me my T letter once we have the formalities of the SOC out of the way. WOO for me!!! Now I just have to find some way to tell my wife. *sigh* That's not going to be pretty. But I gotta do this for me, not for her or anybody else, right? Right. Yay for me!

Mike