Gender Embarrassment

 
Yesterday was a big day for several reasons which involved my first visit to my Veteran's Administration primary provider. A primary provider role in the VA is similar to a family doctors in the civilian world. The significance to me was once again I would have to break in another medical provider into what makes me who I am.

Who I am of course can become quite complex to the average person if they allow it to be. Yesterday I was really surprised when one of the first questions I was asked by the nurse checking me in was how I identified. I knew the VA was attempting to learn more about transgender patients so I answered "transgender lesbian" and then added she and her as my pronouns.  From there we settled into the real reasons I was there.

Jessie Hart in Civil War 
Cemetary

As I have attempted to explain before, not only are my gender issues a point of separation between me and the "normal" other patients the staff may see but also trying to explain why my care is separated between two VA hospital centers. Add in the fact I am bi-polar and questions can become a little personal. Yesterday I needed two issues resolved above all others. One of which was getting my bloodwork done here in Cincinnati which saves me a trip to Dayton, Ohio to get it done. Fortunately after I learned each center has different systems, it would take some work and patience to accomplish the relatively simple task of blood letting. Then the major problem became was what was this estrogen and testosterone test for anyway. To make matters worse, to get it done, they had to ship it out to somewhere else. I lucked out and was assigned to a tech who stuck with the process, made a few calls and finally ended up drawing eight vials of blood. It seemed everyone wanted a sample of my blood.

Now, where the embarrassment came. Finally when I was able to see my provider for the first time, she and the nurse did a fairly decent  job of using my name in place of pronouns. Then in rapid order they screwed up twice and called me the hated "he" word. They apologized completely. So much so I was embarrassed for them. Plus I didn't want to be too much of a pain because I knew I still had two shots coming. One flu and one pneumonia plus I had another big favor to ask. I held my sharp tonged response back and mumbled something similar to it's all right. Which of course, it wasn't. 

The other favor I asked was admitting I was old and I needed a handicapped sticker to place in the windshield of our car when parking spaces are sparse and far away from where we are going. Of course all the worrying I did was for nothing as in five minutes later I had a legal document from the VA to take to the motor vehicle office to apply for a window placard. 

What seemed like hours in the clinic was finally over in probably a half hour and oh yay, I was tagged to for needing another colonoscopy. I was let free to stop at our favorite fast food chicken place NOT called "Fil A" and picked up lunch.

Now it is on to finishing up our wedding prep and picking up a new member of our feline family to replace the two who passed on last year. Hopefully, all the blood work will come back fine and my providers won't have to live through their self imposed gender embarrassment again.  

The French Girl

 

Photo from Jonathan Borba
on UnSplash

As October progresses it is time for yet another Halloween post. This one also happened several years (or decades) ago when I was desperately searching for my true gender identity. 

As Halloween approached, once again I was torn between wearing something trashy or toning it down several notches and trying to present as a cis woman out for a good time at the party. Earlier I had decided to go to one of the biggest parties in town at a nearby venue in a convention center. Further more I knew my first wife wouldn't want to go so I would be on my own. Which gave me more freedom in my decision of what to wear. 

Since I was perpetually short on funds, plus had a small wardrobe, I needed to be creative when coming up with a "costume". 

After quite a bit of thought and a little luck I happened upon a black beret at one of the big local box stores I shopped at. Quickly I became brave enough to try it on and amazingly it fit well. The price was right and I had discovered the beginning of a party outfit to wear. One which had a theme and wasn't too trashy. Ironically I was able to put together the "costume" from the beret down and go as a French woman (not a maid). 

Since I was partial to black as it minimized my size, I had plenty of the color in my small wardrobe to work with. I started with a leotard top, added a black short skirt I had, added black tights and my black flats and was happy with the result after I added my blond wig. Included in my make up. I made sure to highlight my lips with a red lipstick and I was ready to go  For once fairly confident in how I looked and eager to experience the feedback from others. 

Predictably, most of the other party goers were too wrapped up in their own times to notice me but I did have a few unwelcome pinches to my rear area. I wonder if they knew all they were feeling was foam rubber. After a while, this person in a full robe and mask comes up to me and abruptly says "I know who you are." I was shocked until he lifted his mask and explained. He said he knew me because we grew up together and I looked like my Mom. Of course once I saw him, I did know him from my time growing up. In fact he taught me how to drive his car when I was fourteen. 

For the longest time I didn't know how to react to being recognized.  Finally my ego told me to be flattered because literally I knew I had always looked similar to my Mom and that night someone else had seen it also. Following the "outing" the person involved and I went back to rarely seeing each other so the incident never had a chance to be revisited again. 

Perhaps I was lucky it was never revisited because I learned the person who I interacted with turned out to be a huge transphobe. So I am sure the conversation wouldn't have been cordial. But in the long run I learned who cares anyway.

As far as the party went, I had a wonderful time and enjoyed immensely how the evening went along. Sadly I would have to wait another year for a re-run.  

It's Wedding Week

Liz on the left. New Years Eve
Photo

It is here already.  This is the week Liz and I get married. As always, time flies when you are having fun. I can't say I was having fun the entire time but I can say I can't believe the time has gone by so quickly. 

You see, Liz and I have been together for eleven years now and we actually met on an online dating site. Literally, she reached out to me when I was desperately lonely. We quickly hit it off and started to seriously correspond. First by email and then by phone when I became brave enough to let her hear my voice.

Of course one of the major factors in getting together in person was the distance we lived apart. In those days I lived approximately a hour apart. I lived in Springfield, Ohio and she in her native Cincinnati. So we were within meeting distance. Another plus was I had always loved Cincinnati and deep down thought I would end up living there. 

Following a year or so of commuting back and forth I moved my dog, cat and myself to Liz's place in Cincinnati. Without much of a problem we managed to mesh as she had her son, a dog and two cats living there. Spiritually, Liz is a Wiccan and I lean towards the Buddhist faith so again meshing wasn't too difficult. Liz was way ahead of me when she said how deeply she felt the relationship was destined to succeed and flourish.

Fast forward eleven years and Liz and I are obviously still together and thriving even though I am twelve years older the relationship continues to grow. So out of the clear blue sky a couple months ago my daughter said why don't we and get married. I thought about it for awhile and asked Liz to marry me. She said yes and we moved forward and went to the courthouse and filled out the necessary paperwork. Then we had to make a few basic decisions on what would happen next. It is Liz's first wedding and my third so I left many of the decisions up to her. The only thing I didn't really want was a big wedding and I did not need a fancy wedding dress. None of my previous wives desired a fancy dress and neither did I. Then came the names.

Since I just changed my name legally a couple years ago, I didn't want to go through all of that again. Plus I still am proud of the last name I was born with. Liz on the other hand is eventually going to take my last name. But overall, she wants to be able to call me Mrs. Hart which is quite the change for me. As far as the wedding ceremony itself goes, just my daughter's family is coming plus Liz's son. So with the officiant we will be around ten people. We do have one special guest. I have a FtM transgender grand child who is going to bring their serious partner and I am honored.

What I want everyone to know is when this all started I had exactly no expectations I would ever again be in a serious relationship. I was extremely lonely and was searching in some of the wrong places. Out of sheer persistence I finally hit pay dirt. More on that in a later post.