BECOMING DANIEL: TOP SURGERY DAY

24 June 2020 4:00

 
I can't sleep. I'm too excited. I'm too nervous. This is the next step in my journey. I've already changed my name. I've already started on hormones. Now its time for my first surgery. I have a few ideas of what it will be like, but nothing concrete. I wonder what my chest tattoos will be like following the surgery. I have to leave in about an hour to make it down to the hospital, I should close my eyes and try to rest a little bit more before the procedure...My phone starts to ring. There could only be one person calling me at this hour and it's probably not going to be a good call.
 

She's angry. She doesn't want me to do it. It feels like I can't make my own choices. I'm a full-grown adult, almost 30 years old and she's up my ass at every turn. This isn't her decision. This has nothing to do with her. She refuses to see it as anything else. She rants and raves for the better part of an hour and a half that it's a mental illness, that the doctors that are supposed to be helping me have failed me and she wishes something would happen so I'm unable to have my surgery. Can't she just be happy for me? Is it really that hard for her to share my joy in something? I really wish she'd leave me alone on this. I'm in a good place. A healthy place and she wants to really start with this. I'm not going to let her usual bullshit get in the way of my day. She has to remind me that I could die during surgery or that something could go wrong for me. Why the fuck would she do this when I'm only two hours away from going under the knife? I know it's a risk. It's one that I've thought about and processed. It was something that had been weighing on my mind, but the benefits of my overall mental health and self-esteem outweighed it. I tell her that I know this and that if I die, I die. At least I died doing something for me. It comes out like bullets. I don't think she's expecting it. She's quiet for a few moments before going back into her "it's a mental illness" rant.

LE HOSPITAL 6:00

My thoughts are swimming as I make my way down to the hospital. This is the day I've been waiting for. It's been years in the making. My excitement is hard to contain. I'm prepared for this. I didn't really sleep well, but I'm energised. My ride drops me off out front of the surgical centre and waits for a moment while they take my temperature to make sure I'm okay to enter the building. I get the okay to move onto registration and my ride pulls away. Here I am. One hour to go until I'm being pulled in for surgery. 

 I'm preregistered so it doesn't take long. They tell me to head up to the first floor and my nurse will call me when they're ready for me. I wait for about a half-hour, watching people coming and going. I text my mates and let them know that I've arrived at hospital and I'm just waiting to go in. The excitement hits an all-time high. A tall woman comes out and calls my name. I want to jump up. I'm self-conscious of my chest when she calls my name and a few people look over. They know what I'm going to have surgery for. No, no. That's just your paranoia creeping up on you, Danny boy. You got this. 

My nurse is extremely friendly. I was a little worried that I wouldn't be treated well for being trans, but from start to now, all the medical professionals that I've worked with have been welcoming, professional and nothing short of stellar. I'm lucky having such lovely people around me. We go through the standard paperwork and medical questions. I'm cheerful with the nurse. She comments that I'm very easy going. Surprisingly, I'm not nervous anymore. As soon as I got to the hospital and got all sorted in, I'm calm as can be. I think it was more the anticipation, although I'm still waiting to have my procedure. 

 

I'm just about finished peeing when my surgeon comes in to mark me for my incisions. I tell her it might be a little difficult because of all the tattoos on me. She laughs, then remembers the large amounts of ink I have. She tells me it won't be a problem, she's got this. I sit up for her and she looks at my chest, deciding where to go, what to remove and where she wants everything to sit once she's finished. Once she is, she initials me and I meet the rest of the team. A cute little Asian woman enters the room and tells me that she is my anesthesiologist and she's here to help me get ready for surgery. I'm comfortable at this point. A little warm, but in my surgical gown and cap, ready for the big number. 

I'm awake as the bring me into the operating theatre. It wasn't like this when I had my gallbladder removed. I was already asleep when they brought me in that time. Everything is metal. Cooler. I can breathe easier in here. I'm not scared. I'm not nervous. It feels so right. I move onto the surgical table. "Dan, start taking some deep breaths for me." Her voice is calm and welcoming. I do as she says. It doesn't feel like it's doing anythin-

 "Dan? Daniel?" I want to wake up, but I'm so tired. It better not be a workday and I've overslept. Who did they send over here to wake me up? Why the hell would they do that? It's a female voice..it's not familiar. Then again, there are so many girls there who's names I don't know. Not that I really want to know them. I open my eyes and a woman a few years older than me comes into focus. "Hi, Dan. Everything went well, you're in recovery." All I want to do is sleep. "How are you feeling?" "Tired." I'm mumbling. All I want to do is turn over and go back to sleep. I can't lay on my side. Nothing hurts. I try and sit up a little bit and that's when I realise I'm in a full torso binder. I hate it. It's uncomfortable and I want out of it. I've been asleep for a while I realise. It's almost 12 and I went in for surgery at 730. It was a two-hour procedure. I try and shake off the tiredness, but I know my body just wants to rest after all that it's gone through.

AFTER 

I feel amazing I can't believe I did it. I took a stand and did something for myself. I'm starting to feel comfortable in my skin. I'm growing comfortable in the body that I'm in now. Halfway done. I'm going to wait on the bottom surgery for a year, maybe two. I want to be fully healed from my top surgery and in a place where I can afford to take the long recovery off from work. I don't want to push things too far. And it's going to take some people some getting used to. A name change is one thing. Taking hormones is another thing. Removing parts of my body is another.  

Every so often I will peek down at the drains and I'm reminded again that I really did go through with the surgery. I'm so happy. I don't think there are words to explain the joy that I feel. So many people have sent me well wishes, thoughts of a speedy recovery and congratulations on this next step in my life.