by Cindi Jones
“I don’t know, Cindi,” he told me. But you are definitely a pioneer. It is extremely rare.”
He gave me directions to the hospital along with what I would need to check in. I went there forthwith.
The nurse walked me back to the special rooms where only benders were allowed to rest and recover. Only one had preceded me the week before. I would be Dr. Biber’s second surgery after his accident. The nurse escorted me into the room where the other patient was recovering. She smiled at me and introduced herself. I shook her hand and introduced myself.
“Now let me take you to your room” the nurse said as she hurried me along with her hand. My room was just next door. It was a standard room with two empty beds. “There will be someone joining you in two days dear. Which bed would you like?” she asked.
“I’d like the one by the window. I’d like to see outside” I replied.
“Okay, we will be back in an hour or so. We would like you to take a shower and get in bed,” she explained. “Do I have time to talk to the woman next door?” I asked. “Of course you do dear. Take the time you need,” she replied.
I only had a chance to talk to my new friend that one time. She too had been very worried about her urethra. She had told me how delighted she was when she was able to urinate 4 days after the surgery. Before then, she had a catheter run up to her bladder. She was leaving the next morning. I would very likely never see her again.
I was not given dinner. I was given a laxative. I was familiar with the routine. I had been through it many times. They didn’t want to clean up an unintended mess during surgery. A nurse’s aid came in to shave me. She announced that she had been doing this ever since Dr. Biber started doing these surgeries. She talked about many of her patients and how so many had come back to say hi, or written her letters. She was very good at what she did. She kept talking and keeping me interested as she quickly shaved me from my belly button down almost to my knees. She was so talkative that I hardly had a chance to become embarrassed. Yes, she was very good. When she was finished she coated me in iodine. I must have looked like a block of Neapolitan ice cream.
I watched television until the Star Spangled Banner played, signaling the end of the broadcast day. I checked the other stations to see if there was anything else on. All I saw was a test pattern. I turned off the television and fished out a Robert Ludlum book, one of two that I had brought along with me to wile away the time. I liked Ludlum. The plots of some of his stories were quite incredulous but his books were always a quick read. They were entertaining and a great way to live an adventure.
“It’s strange isn’t it? I’ve always wanted to be a girl and I’m turning into a tomboy,” I mused to myself.
I did finally fall asleep and I woke up only in time to attend to the restroom before they took me to surgery. They brought a gurney in and spirited me down the hallway. I wish that I could describe the excitement and anticipation that I felt. I had some pretty tough times in my life as I recalled. I had some extremely wonderful moments as I remembered the birth of my children and spending time with them. This would be a very important milestone and I was overwhelmed with joy.
“Now Cindi, this is your very last chance to say no,” Dr Biber said looking down on my face. I could see only his eyes. A surgical mask covered most of his face.
“Dr. Biber” I started, “cut it off!” I nearly shouted with a grin on my face. His eyes winked at me acknowledging a lifetime of desires about to be fulfilled.
The anesthesiologist did his work and within seconds, I was out.
“Cindi… Cindi” the nurse kept saying trying to capture my attention. I was coming out of a deep sleep. I had no thoughts, no demons chasing me. “Cindi are you alright? She asked. I had only one thought to deal with. My feet were very cold.
“My feet are cold” I said. She carefully wrapped a blanket about my feet in the recovery room. And then I fell back asleep.
I don’t know how long the surgery took. I did not know how long I had been back in my room. Sleep was restful. There were no dreams. There was no confusion. I just slept. And then I was suddenly awake.
I opened my eyes and was shocked with my surroundings. What was I doing here? What had happened to me? What was wrong? And then I slipped my hand down to my crotch. It was bandaged, but it was smooth. IT was gone and I fell pleasantly back into blissful sleep.
My supper was delivered to me a little late that evening. I had been “occupied” for the better part of the day. The food wasn’t bad and I was definitely hungry. I had the TV going as I drifted in and out of sleep. I wasn’t just hungry. I was famished. But I could only eat half of what was there. I felt satisfied and the tray was later retrieved.
Trish called me. “So Cindi, how ya doin?”
“I’m very well, thank you,” I replied. I don’t know of anyone who responds with the answer that no one really wants to hear. It’s a greeting it is not a genuine request inquiring for your state of health. Besides, it is grammatically correct to say that you are very well.
“Squirrel, shut up,” I said to myself.
“So how did everything go?” Trish questioned with a ringing singing tone.
“I, ah… I guess it went good. Mr. Johnson has left the building,” I replied smugly. I heard a grin form on the other end of the call.
“You can’t see a smile on a phone call,” said Squirrel.
“I can see anything I want to see Squirrel,” I said to myself.
We talked briefly. Trish could tell that I was still in the late stages of recovery.
I went to sleep early that night. I slept soundly with no dreams.
I awoke to meet my new roommate who was receiving the tour. I introduced myself and then I ate breakfast. I don’t remember her name. She was slightly smarter than a rock but didn’t quite have the IQ of a piece of lumber I mused. For the remainder of my time there, this woman would never shut up as she primped her hair, put on make up, and talked on the phone. It was non-stop. Some of it was hilarious. Mostly it was a nuisance that was easily pushed aside.
Every 10 minutes of my waking hours, I slid my hand across a bandaged landscape of smoothness. I watched TV and read my books. The nurse’s aids checked me often and emptied my bladder bag. The first visit to the powder room to do paper work was very painful. The nurse’s aid helped me get in and situated and was very kind enough to help clean up. I was too proud for that to happen. I washed my hands and light headily returned to my bed. Trish called every day. I was thankful that someone was checking up with my progress.
Midweek, the bender I met in Dr. Biber’s office visited me. She introduced herself as Caitlyn. Caitlyn was very sweet and had been down a familiar path. She had come to Trinidad, found a job, and was trying to save up enough money to pay for everything. It was nice to have a loving face by my bedside to help pass the time. She came to see me every day after her job to see me. I appreciated her time she shared with me.
My dressings were repacked on the second day after surgery. How familiar was that feeling albeit in a different place to surgeries I had to fix the crater on the other side of my body. But this time it was somehow different, less painful perhaps.
On the fourth day the catheter was removed. We were going to see if I could pass liquid. It was the single most worrisome thing on my mind at the time. Within an hour, I succeeded. There were no problems. I was ecstatic.
I was instructed on how to use the stent. The nurse’s aid extracted this device from her cart. It was a long plastic tube filled with a sponge. “Now you take this kinda weird thing and squish it in your hands to make it fit. Then you stick it up inside yourself like this,” she pushed it up gently inside of me. “And then you let it sit there for 15 minutes or so.” It really hurt. “When you get home, and after you heal, you will need to buy a hard one. You can get them at most adult book stores. They are called dildos,” she explained.
I was naive about a lot of things, but I did know what a dildo was. I was not happy about bu
ying one. Mr. Johnson had finally moved out. I could hardly bear the thought of a piece of plastic molded in his image.
I was healing quickly. I was ready to go home.
That night, as Caitlyn visited me, I told her that I would be leaving the next day. It pained her to lose me, I could see in her face. “Can I drive you down to Pueblo?” she asked with some anxiousness. I did not have to think much about that one. The bus fare was 30 dollars or so. I accepted the offer humbly.
Dr. Biber had one last session before I left. He went over the importance of using the stent to stretch and maintain my new vagina. He told me that I could go back to work right away if I had to. He did recommend a few weeks off though, mostly resting, unwinding, and getting my thoughts in order. He cautioned me to not sit for extended periods of time. “Get up and walk around if you need to. Lay down several times a day. And use the stent four or five times a day for the first several weeks. You can back off to once a day after five or six months.”
He discussed some other minor details and handed me a donut cushion. “You’ll need this for your trip back,” he noted. He wished me luck. I collected my things in my small bag and the nurse’s aid wheeled me to the front door where Caitlyn waited at the curb.
She helped me into her little pickup truck and drove me to Pueblo. We had a nice conversation. A lot of what she talked about was her job. She enjoyed what she was doing and liked living in Trinidad. The little town was known as the sex change capital of the world. No one dared create problems for the meager business that the bender trade brought in. After our long conversation, I felt sure that Caitlyn would find her way.
She dropped me off at a Motel 6. She stayed for a bit to help me get settled in my room. I was very tired and uncomfortable. It was no worse than any of the other surgeries that I had previously. This one was much easier to bear. I ordered a small pizza delivered to my room. I ate the whole thing. I was so hungry.
Trish greeted me at the airport. She took me back to my apartment. She really wanted me to come down and stay at her place as I recovered. I knew that I’d be fine. I was feeling pretty well. She hung out a while and after seeing that I was very tired, she helped me get in bed and she left saying “You make sure and call me if you need anything.”
I fell fast asleep in my own little twin bed.
Recovery
I felt refreshed. I must have slept 15 hours. I felt new. I got up and put my standard clothes on. I loved to wear jeans and a tee shirt. I had some chords that fit me well and they looked good on me. I decided against a tee and pulled out one of my favorite tops. It was sleeveless and buttoned up the front. It was also my favorite color at the time, peach. I put on my sports shoes and brushed out my hair.
I checked myself in the mirror on my bath door. I looked fabulous. I decided to celebrate. I wanted to go swimming. I hadn’t been swimming for ages. I didn’t have a suit. That must be solved. So I grabbed my keys and my bag and head out.
I found that my body didn’t feel as good as I did. As soon as I got into the mall, I had to rest on an uncomfortable bench for a while. I only went to one store and found something perfect for a reasonable price. It was a two piece yellow suit. It looked good on me as I checked in the dressing room mirror. Yes, this would do just fine.
I sat down on the same hard bench before I walked out to the car. I realized that I wanted some Diet Coke, so I stopped at the local convenience store. I got out of my car carefully but surely and walked towards the door. A fairly handsome young fellow opened the door for me.
“Gawd, what I wouldn’t do to have you,” he said.
As I passed through the door I replied “I’m sorry but I’m not performing miracles today.”
We both chuckled. I made my purchase and I went home. I was too tired to go swimming. So I took a nap instead. Swimming could wait.
The phone rang and I struggled to my feet and get to the phone. “Hello Kid” said Dad. “Whatchya doin?” he asked in his sing song way.
“Oh I was just taking a nap” I replied.
“I’m sorry,” he started “how would you like to come visit us next weekend? We are going to be in Zion’s National Park,” he said.
I really wanted to visit my parents. I yearned for their company. I really did want them to share in my happiness. But I didn’t know if I could physically make the trip. My short excursion today had taken less than an hour. And I was beat.
“Dad, I had my surgery last week. I’m not sure if I can make it. It is a very long drive,” I explained to him.
“You had your surgery?” Dad asked.
“Yes Dad, I did. I would really like to visit you and Mom. I miss you both. Can you call me later in the week to check?”
“Of course. I’ll do that.”
We talked a bit and Dad being Dad, cut the call short. Dad never did like to talk on the phone much. That would be a habit, I would help him learn to break in the coming years.
I went back to the couch for another nap.
I spent the next few days taking a morning swim and drying off in the sun next to the pool. I had never had been a sun bunny. I never would spend the time in the sun to get a healthy tan. So I went to the pool in the morning before it got hot. I wouldn’t have to share the pool with everyone else if I waited until they returned home from work.
I couldn’t swim very well because of the pain so I just pulled myself along in the shallow end for a while. As I lay on one of the chase loungers drying off, I wondered why I had never wished to do this in my life journey. Squirrel had never wanted me to get a swim suit. I had never daydreamed about lying around by a pool. It was a peaceful quiet moment. But I still did not enjoy being exposed in the sun. I have fair skin and although I can get a reasonable tan, I had been told that I was susceptible to skin cancer. So I had always made it a point to stay out of the sun.
By the time Thursday came around I felt that I could make the drive out to Zion’s park. I would need to stop the car often and get out to walk around. I thought that if I had to, I could lay down in the back of my little hatchback car.
Dad called and I confirmed that I would meet them there. He asked me not to tell Mom about my surgery.
“I’d like her to enjoy the weekend. I’ll tell her after we get home,” he said. I knew his wisdom. I knew that it would hurt her and this weekend should be fun.
I prepared for a weekend away from home. I didn’t need the donut pillow. Pain from sitting now was not significant. I would tire easily and that was it. Other than some mild pain in walking, and the nasty pain I had when I used the stent, I actually felt pretty good.
I filled a small bag with some clothes and my personal articles and I left. The drive wasn’t too bad. I did stop ten or twelve times along the way. I visited every rest stop. It felt good to slowly walk around a bit in the hot sun. Within a few hours I met up with Mom and Dad at the campground where they were staying. This was only the second time I had seen them since moving to southern California.
I gave Mom a huge hug. She was so happy to see me and I felt the same. We didn’t do a whole lot that weekend. We went around to some of the sites. Mom and Dad were in a camera club and were looking for potential subjects for contest pictures. The weather was cool by desert standards.
After all these years, Mom could not convince me to stay in the trailer. I preferred to sleep in the back of the Suburban. Ever since I was little, I would not sleep in the trailer when we went out. It had started because I didn’t ever want to help drain the holding tank. I knew that if I never stayed inside, I’d never have to help. That was the way I thought through things. Squirrel always took every stupid little thing and thought it through to every practical conclusion. But looking beyond the holding tank, I really preferred to be out alone. I liked sleeping in the back of the ‘burb’.
On this trip, I really needed the privacy to do the stent thing. Dad was very understanding as I explained it to him. He did ask something of the results and I was fairly vague. I was not terribly anx
ious to talk so frankly about it all.
I don’t know if Dad told my mother or not during that weekend. I just remember it as a very precious time. It was a time when I was finally Cindi with my family. There wasn’t anything of any real interest that happened. The normalcy of the weekend made it so special to me. I was very happy that I had driven out to spend the time with them.
I returned home and rested significantly during the next few days. I had decided to return to work a week earlier than planned. I would have loved to stay out a while. I still didn’t feel all that well. But I figured that if I could drive out to see my parents, I should be able to return to work.
It was a big mistake. During the trip with my parents I rested anytime I wanted. The requirements of my job would not permit it. Additionally, I had to do the stent at least once a day while at work. It was uncomfortable and extremely inconvenient. I survived it though. I needed the money. I had gone into debt for the surgery and the bills were piling up.
Starting Over
My VP of marketing was resigning. I had enjoyed working for him. He was a likable sort. I knew that with him gone, I would have no one sticking up for me. I couldn’t help wondering why he would be leaving. I supposed it was because he had a disagreement with the president and had resigned on principal. I learned later that the president had someone else to fill his slot and had asked him to move on. That sort of thing happens in business. You go in and do a good job. They find a guy on the golf course they like better and you are out the next day.
“Can I ask you a question Al?” I asked him.
“Sure Cindi, fire away,” he said.
“Did you really subtract the cost of the personal computer I demanded from my employment offer?” I asked.
He smiled wryly “So you heard about that did you?”
“Al, you could at least have given it back to me with my yearly review!” I whined.
He smiled apologetically in return and said nothing.
“Al, what has the president got on me?” I asked him.
