Out and about for the first time

I’m packing for the first time today.  It’s liberating and feels so natural.  It may be a little bigger than I’d imagined but it was all they had at Liverpool and I was determined not to come home empty handed.

However, packing made me realise something quite important – I’ve got NO FUCKING TROUSERS!  I’ve tried on every pair of trousers that I’ve got and, except for the suit pants, all of them are inappropriate, bordering on obscene.  The cut is all wrong and rather than a pleasantly modest manly bulge it looks like I’ve got a hernia.

Went to Matalan to get something more suitable.  All was going well until it came to trying stuff on in the changing rooms.  I went in confident but apparently it all kicked off outside with someone complaining.  The female attendant was concerned there was a woman in the male changing room but Chris shut that shit down right away with “I don’t think so love, that’s my husband”.  I was so proud of her but I felt incredibly guilty about putting her in the position of having to engage with strangers.

Medical matters

Early December 2017, my wife and I went to the GP surgery, she wanted to come with me to demonstrate that she was 100% behind my decision.  We spoke to the nurse practitioner Kim.  She asked how she could help and I told her that I wanted treatment for gender reassignment.  She was surprised but I felt only because she’d never come across a transgender person before.  She asked how long I’d felt that way and I replied over 30 years.  I know some people have to justify themselves and answer questions like “How do you know?” and “Are you sure?” but she seemed completely accepting of it without further probing.  Maybe that’s the benefit of being an older person – I’ve had half a lifetime to be sure!  I explained that I hadn’t done anything about it before because I married a woman who married a woman and I wasn’t prepared to throw that away if Chris had been anything less than completely onboard.

She admitted she didn’t know what to do next and I briefly explained what was required (referrals to the Gender Identity Clinic and a referral to an endocrinologist for a bridging prescription of testosterone) and where to find the necessary information (the NHS website and the WPATH treatment guidelines).  At this moment in time the waiting lists for my local gender clinic are in excess of a year and I was keen to stress the importance of a bridging prescription to get treatment underway.

She assured us she couldn’t see any reason why the practice wouldn’t support me through the transition and said she was going to set the medical receptionist the task of researching the processes involved.  Wow, that’s a massive relief and I guess one of the first hurdles towards treatment because there’s no way I’d be able to afford the entire process privately.

 

Starting out

It’s November 2017, I’ve spent the last 43 years in a female body, and finally I’ve had the courage to open up a dialogue with my wife of 24 years about how maybe in a different life I would have undergone gender reassignment.  Scary and exhilarating at the same time, she suggests that I go to the GP to get a referral to the gender identity clinic to discuss it.