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FRANK'S JOURNAL (PRE & POST CHEST SURGERY)
On 17 November, 1997, at 7:00 AM, Dr. Michael Brownstein
worked what I don't hesitate to term a "miracle" for
me. In a 3.25 hour procedure, he removed the female breasts which
had tormented me for 24 years of my life. It is amazing to consider
how quickly I have forgotten what it was like to have a female
chest. All the years of trying to ignore what was, for me, a
never-ending humiliation have ended. Now, when I walk past a
mirror, I find myself stopping in front of it and actually staring
at my chest and *loving* what I see there. I no longer cringe
at the sight of that tell-tale swellÉ because there is
none! Gone are the days when I had to forbid my lover to touch
me "there." In fact, though I am still healing and
so not quite ready to be touched with much pressure, I have already
had the totally amazing experience of having my lover touch my
chest and loving it because it is now a male chest! That pain
is all in the past. I know I have many other mountains to climb,
but I can face them with a serenity I didn't have before my surgery.
I feel more complete now. More "real." Writing this,
exactly three weeks after my surgery, I realize my body still
has a great deal of healing to do; however, I am feeling fantastic.
With the exception of not being able to lift anything too heavy,
or raise my arms above the level of my shoulders, the only reminders
I have of the surgery are the incisions, some residual swelling,
and a few areas on my chest which are still tender if touched.
But I have the male chest I should have been born with and I
know that, given time, any casual observer would never suspect
I *wasn't* born with it. I owe that to Dr. Michael Brownstein,
whose exquisite skill as a surgeon is delightfully paired with
a sterling personality. The following excerpts from my journal
recount my experience with Dr. Brownstein. I offer them in the
spirit of providing others who are just setting foot on this
path as much information as possible regarding what to expect
throughout the process. I hope I can help my brothers in the
same way I have been helped by so many others who have gone before
me-- the real pathfinders. ************************************************************************
Thursday, 13 November, 1997 In only two days, I will be leaving
for San FranciscoÑ the city where, after so many years
of suffering in a body which in hardly any way reflects who and
what I actually am, I will be set free. And, while it is true
that the work Dr. Brownstein will do for me will not make me
into the man I truly am, (because the origin of gender, as I
see it, is more than a purely physical thing) it will liberate
me from the misery of this chestÉ a chest I have *hated*
and *despised* ever since it begin to grow away from the boyish
shape which was so right for me. It is difficult simply writing
this down, as I have almost *NEVER* acknowledged, even to myself,
that "they" exist *on* meÑfor they are surely
not a *part* of me. I have never been able to look at them with
anything but disdain and a sense of shame which runs deep as
my heart's core. I have never taken pleasure in having them touched.
Indeed, my lover is forbidden to do so because such an act would,
by its very nature, shock me out of the mental state which allows
me to be *physically* male, if only in my mind, when we make
love. I *am* male. I know this to be trueÑand so a reminder
of my current bodily form is more painful than I could ever fully
express. It is so disconcerting to catch a glimpse of myself
in a mirror and see the utterly grotesque rise of my chest. Grotesque,
not because I dislike breastsÑ I happen to love themÉ
but only on women. On me, they are alien, foreign, hated. At
work, there is a mirror I pass frequently and when, from time
to time, I look up and see the jiggling flesh on my chest, I
feel almost physically ill. As many times as it happens, I am
still always shocked to see that because it is not the way I
see myself. In truth, I can't even begin to imagine what it will
be like to be rid of themÉ but whatever it is, I know
it shall be wonderful beyond belief. A crucial step towards bringing
my physical form into alignment with my mental/spiritual self.
I am not at all afraid. I am filled with a deep sense of joy
at the thought of allowing myself to surrender to the anesthesia
this coming Monday, knowing that when I awaken it shall be in
a new, more appropriate, form! Friday, 14 November, 1997 To think,
next week at this time I will be in San Francisco and *FREE!*
Tonight, R . (my lover) and I went out to dinner and she told
me she thinks it is "cool," that this transformation
will be taking place. She is only afraid for me regarding having
surgeryÑ that something could happen with the anesthesia
or something. She wants the operation to be over and C. (the
person who will accompany me to SF) to call and let her know
I am all right. It's good to know she is so comfortable with
the idea of me having surgery, and I am really anxious to see
her reaction when she is finally able to look at my new chest.
When I took my fucking bra off tonight, it struck me that I will
only ever put it on two more times in this life! That *REALLY*
stunned me. What an amazing and delightful thing to consider.
Only *TWO* more times! I think back to the occasions on which
I had to purchase bras. It actually *hurts* to write that. I
remember the few times when I actually braved the dressing room
to try them on, not, of course, to see if they fitÑbut
to determine how well they would smash the damned things down.
I recall wanting to just scream and scream as I gazed at the
flesh which clung to me like some horrible, fungal growth. *That*
was true pain. And to think, in a matter of only two days "they"
will be a thing of the past, and so too shall be the necessity
of bras. I can scarcely believe it! Sunday, 16 November, 1997
Woke up at 6:30 AM. R. drove me to the airport at 8:00 AM and
dropped me off. I know she was scared for me, but I feel only
*pure* excitement My flight to San Francisco was uneventful.
I tried to focus on the movie they showed ("The Lost World")
but found myself far too eager to get to SF to pay attention.
It just annoyed me. Arrived in SF at 11:30 AM and met up with
C. at her baggage claim area. Once at the hotel, I began to feel
uneasy about having to meet with Dr. Brownstein because I knew
he was going to have to look at my chest and that is always like
dying for meÑpure humiliation. I forced myself to call
him right away. He sounded pleased that I'd arrived safely in
SF and told me to come to his office directly. I remember when
I called to schedule surgery with him back in August. I said
I wanted it on the 17th of November and, without missing a beat,
he said he'd have no problem meeting me at his office on a Sunday
for the pre-surgical consult. In fact, I had been in touch with
Dr. Brownstein for about seven months prior to coming to SF,
and he was always unfailingly gracious and patient about the
many questions I had for him. His accessibility and the fact
that he always took the time to personally answer my e-mail made
a very positive impression right from the start. C. and I got
a cab and headed over to his office. It was about a ten-minute
ride from the hotel and I was squirming all the while, dreading
the moment I'd have to take my shirt off in front of Dr. Brownstein.
The cab eventually pulled up in front of a long, two-story building
which looked more like a warehouse than an office building. C.
and I went up to the door and, as I reached to ring the bell,
a tall, middle-aged, slender man in jeans and a T-shirt came
striding across the lobby, which was filled with art work and,
I later discovered, is actually an art gallery. He extended his
hand and offered me a firm handshake. "You must be Frankie,"
he said. I replied in the affirmative and proceeded to introduce
C. to him as the three of us headed up the open-backed cement
stairs to his office. It was modest, a kind of loft-style room
with a partition dividing a cluttered desk from a small examining
area. "I hope you don't mind casual," he said, indicting
his attire with a wave of his hand. I told him that, in truth,
I love casual. I immediately felt at ease in his presence. We
spoke at length about the surgical procedure which was scheduled
for the next day. Dr. Brownstein answered all of my questions
thoroughly and reconfirmed, in my mind, that I had made the best
choice when I decided to ask him to be my surgeon. When he finally
asked me to step into the examining room so he could look at
my chest I did tell him I was humiliated by the thought. He was
kind enough to say he could wait until the following morning,
but I thought it would be best if he saw what he had to work
with so we could better discuss the options available to me.
After removing my shirt and bra, during which time Dr. Brownstein
kindly turned away from me, it was time to let him have a look.
I must say he was *extremely* cool about itÉ and professional.
Of course, I still felt embarrassed enough to want to crawl into
a corner and die, but he studied me only briefly and then stepped
out of the room and told me I could dress and come back over
when I was ready. Dr. Brownstein assured me that my decision
to go with double incision was right, based on my size, and he
added that he was certain everything would go great the following
day. He wrote out a prescription for Percocet (a narcotic, pain
killer) and told me to have it filled so I'd have it on hand
when I returned to the hotel after surgery. Then he called a
cab for us and I left feeling I would be in excellent hands the
next day. C. and I then went back to the hotel and switched to
a room with a view of San Francisco Bay and the Bay Bridge. At
2:30 PM we took a cab to a little Italian restaurant where I
had my last meal in this body! I had Irish coffee, ravioli soup
in chicken stock, risotto with saffron, and vanilla ice cream
with Bailey's Irish Cream to top it off. It was all delicious!
We walked around Chinatown and back to the hotel where there
was a message from T. who had called to welcome me to SF and
wish me luck tomorrow. C. and I went out again and walked around
Fisherman's Wharf. We even went to a Medieval Dungeon Wax Museum,
which was quite fun. So, here it is, my last night with a female
chest. I feel *totally* relaxed. In a way, it still doesn't seem
real. Tomorrow at this time I will be free, but as I write, I
still have a hard time believing that. All the years of agony
are about to come to an end! Tuesday, 18 November, 1997 What
a difference between the way I felt yesterday at this time (2:15
PM) and now! Yesterday: I was awakened by the ringing of the
phone at 5:15 AM. At first, I thought it was our 5:30 wake-up
call and I almost cradled the phone without saying anything,
but then I thought it might be a person instead of a machine,
so I answered and it was T. again, calling to wish me luck. What
a great guy! We got a cab without any trouble and arrived at
the surgery center at about 6:35 AM. A guard at the front desk
told us to take the elevator upstairs where I was greeted by
a very nice receptionist who had me fill out some forms and pay
the required fees. . She also put a yellow name-band around my
wrist. Dr. Brownstein came out to say hello and ask how I was
doing. I told him I was elated and he smiled and said he'd return
in a bit. Then a nurse led me to a small room where she took
my BP (100/70) and pulse (68) and temp 97.5. She asked me a number
of health-related questions and then told me to change into a
gown and some ridiculous paper slippers (which were about ten
sizes too large for me), and to call her when I was ready. When
I was, she took me to a holding area and asked me to lie down
on a gurney. Dr. Brownstein came in and had me sit up as straight
as possible so he could draw blue lines on my chest where he
intended to make the incisions. He was very relaxed and joked
around with me. This put me at ease while I endured the humiliation
of having him actually touch my chest. After Dr. Brownstein left,
the nurse came back in and started an IV drip. Then C. was allowed
to come in and say goodbye and wish me luck. After she left,
I put on the ludicrous paper cap I had been given. I wouldn't
let C. see me in that! Then the anesthesiologist came in and
introduced herself. She said she was going to give me some Diprovan.
As she administered it, I reflected about how unfailing nice
everyone was being and how wonderful everything was. Then it
was as if the horizontal hold went offÑthings began pleasantly
rollingÑand that is all I remember from *before* the procedure.
When I awoke, it was to extreme nausea and pain in my chest which
I likened to being hit by a freight train. Yet, in spite of the
pain, I just wanted to look at my chest, to know "they"
were gone. I was exceedingly happy, even though I felt miserable.
Unfortunately, my chest was tightly wrapped and there was so
much gauze under the surgical binding that it looked like I still
had breasts! I vaguely remember being helped out of bed and into
a chair where I sat and tried to focus on not vomiting. C. came
in and helped me get dressed. I told the nurse I was in considerable
pain and she gave me some Percocet. I also told her I was extremely
nauseated and she offered me a Compazine suppository which I
accepted, though with the stipulation that I would be able to
insert it myself. She was cooperative and simply left me alone
to tend to things. While I waited for her to return, I examined
the drains which terminated in two clear plastic bulbs pinned
to the binder directly over the spot, I would later discover,
where my new nips are. The drain tubes themselves went from the
reservoirs (bulbs) down across the binder and then back up, under
the binding, to two holes located several inches below each armpit.
I had been in surgery from 7:00 AM to 10:15AM. I don't know how
long I was in the recovery area because I was in pain, nauseated,
and still somewhat groggy from the anesthesia. When I felt well
enough, I'm guessing this was around 11:30 AM or so, C. got a
wheelchair and took me downstairs where a cab took us back to
the hotel. I have vague recollections of being wheeled through
the lobby. I remember the concerned and sympathetic faces of
the people who rode with us on the elevator and I wondered (perhaps
unfairly) if they would feel so compassionate if they knew what
sort of procedure I had just undergone. ">Once in the
room, I had the worst bout of nausea yet. I sat in the wheelchair
while C. was pulling down the bed and I really struggled not
to vomit. Miraculously, I did not! I had been afraid of vomiting
since I'd scheduled the surgery. It was one of my great fearsÉ
especially having something horrible happen, like vomiting in
the cab. But, fortunately, I was able to refrain from doing that.
The fact that I'd eaten nothing since 2:30 PM the previous day
might also have helped. As soon as I got into bed, I closed my
eyes and just let myself relax. I felt the cool sheets against
me and tried to imagine the flatness of my chest, which was obscured
by the bandages and binding. I rested like that for about twenty
minutes, revelling in the knowledge that I was, at last, truly
free. And that was the end of any *real* pain. I sat up in bed
after those twenty minutes and the nausea was completely gone.
Gone, too, was the pain in my chest. I did feel sore, but I wasn't
in pain. So, all in all, the amount of suffering and nausea I
endured (a few hours) was really minimal. In truth, I would have
endured pain a thousand times more terrible if I had to, to realize
my goal. I called R. and assured her I was doing fine. It was
wonderful to hear the relief in her voice and to know that she
was so happy for me. I called a few friends, too. Everybody was
delighted to hear from meÉ and glad to know everything
had gone without a hitch. At about 2:30 PM I ate some won ton
soup. Then C. and I talked until about 9:30 PM when I fell asleep
while trying to watch a movie. I woke up during the night and
needed to use the bathroom. I found that crossing my arms over
my chest was the easiest way to maneuver, letting my leg and
stomach muscles do the work my arms would normally do. It was
easily one of the longest nights of my life. I couldn't sleep
because I was too happyÉ but I didn't want to bother C.,
so I just laid in bed, stared at the lazily flashing red beacon
lights on the Bay Bridge, and thanked the gods for my good fortune.
Today, looking down at my chest, it seems no different than it
was before. The packing and dressing is so thick that, if anything,
my chest appears even larger than it was before! Dr. Brownstein
called to see how I was feeling, which I thought was tremendously
nice of him. I mentioned the fact that my chest looked huge and
he laughed pleasantly and said I was so lean he had to put some
extra dressings on and wrap the binder around me twice. He was
very understanding and reassured me that the operation had gone
smoothly and that my chest would look great once it was finished
healing. He told me to meet him at his office tomorrow at 10:30
AM so he could check the drains and dressings. C. helped me wash
my hair. I leaned over the sink and she washed it, but I felt
it needed to be rinsed more thoroughly, so I did that myself.
I discovered I can easily wash my own hair in the sinkÑand
this is only the first post-op day! We ate lunch in the hotel
restaurant. It felt great to be walking around, even if it was
just downstairs. I can't wait to see Dr. Brownstein tomorrow.
I'm hoping I'll get a glimpse of my new chest. Wednesday, 19
November, 1997 I was greatly disappointed today to get to Dr.
Brownstein's office and learn I would not be able to see my chest.
Instead, Dr. Brownstein had me lie down and he opened the binder
and lifted the bandages. He announced there was no problem with
the drains. Then he replaced all the gauze and pulled the binder
tight around me. He told me he will remove the drains on Saturday,
so I am hoping I will get to see my chest then. I did notice,
lying on the examining table, that when Dr. Brownstein removed
the binder and the gauze, my chest felt remarkably "light."
It was a wonderful sensation just to feel the cool air of the
office caressing my skin. It's difficult to describe,. But without
the breasts there, the feeling of the air on my skin was totally
differentÉ more intense. I also noted I was actually *happy*
to have someone look at my chest. For the first time since the
damned breasts had developed, I was actually totally comfortable
exposing my chest. C. took a few pics to document the moment.
Dr. Brownstein was extremely gentle with meÉ which I appreciated
since I was still pretty sore. He took his time with me, too,
which is another thing I really like about him. He never gives
me the impression that he is in a hurry. When I told him the
binder was rubbing against my shoulder blades, he was concerned
and took the time to cut the back down so that my shoulder blades
were not covered. Later in the day, I pulled the bandages forward
and looked down at my chest, trying to figure out where my new
nipples are (!). I finally discovered the yellow bandages which
were stitched over the nips. So, now I know where they are! I
was terribly alarmed to discover what appeared to be cleavage!
I know there is a reasonable explanation, but I also know I am
not going to be able to sleep until I see Dr. Brownstein! C.
and I did *a lot* of walking around San Francisco today. I felt
great, except for being slightly winded. This is a result of
the binder being so tightly wrapped around me. It restricts my
breathing. But I am not complaining. I feel like a new man! Thursday,
20 November, 1997 I was more comfortable in bed last night than
I have been so far, though the binder continues to irritate me.
I empty the drains every eight hours or so. The left is pretty
much draining serosanguineous fluid, but the right still seems
to be mostly blood. C left this morning. T. is coming up this
afternoon. We have never met before, only written e-mail, but
I know he is a cool guy and I am really looking forward to meeting
him. T. got in around 3:00 PM. He is thinking of going to Dr.
Brownstein for top surgery, too, so he had planned a consult
with him today; however, the appointment had to be moved back
because Dr. Brownstein was meeting with the Dept. of Health to
see if they would agree to cover TS surgery for city employees.
We walked around Pier 39, watched the sea lions for a while,
gazed across the bay at AlcatrazÉ just talked and passed
time until we could go see Dr. Brownstein. I was right, T. is
a very cool guy! After an eventful cab ride, T. and I arrived
at the office. Dr. Brownstein said the city hadn't approved the
insurance coverage, but he has hope it will be approved in the
future. The more I see Dr. Brownstein, the more I deal with him,
the more I like him. He is genuinely concerned about his patients
and has treated me with utmost respect. I told him about my concern
over the "cleavage" and he immediately came over and
looked under the binder. He explained the appearance was due
to a combination of things: the drains pushing the skin up; some
subcutaneous bleeding/swelling; the binder pushing the swollen
skin togetherÑall of which made sense and made me feel
a helluva lot better. Dr. Brownstein said he imagined I'd gotten
no sleep just worrying about that. I told him he was right! I
also mentioned that the binder was constantly slipping down and
he suggested I buy a rib belt and bring it with me on Saturday.
He sat and spoke with T. and me for a very long time, answering
every question in great detail. He explained how he does the
nipple grafts, how he determines proper nipple placement, how
he got started doing this type of surgeryÉ we ran the
gamut. And all the while I kept thinking to myself that he is
really a great guy *and* a great surgeon. Very easy to talk to.
Very interested in our concerns. Very determined to continue
helping TS people out. Friday, 21 November, 1997 I continue to
feel better each day. T. and I went to see Alcatraz. Not very
thrilling, actually. Tomorrow, the drains come out! I can't wait!
I couldn't find a rib belt, so I bought an abdominal belt at
Walgreen's. I think it should work out just fine. T. left at
6:30 PM, so the rest of my stay in SF will be solo. Saturday,
22 November, 1997 12:17 PM THE DRAINS ARE OUT AND MY CHEST LOOKS
BEAUTIFUL! I left early for Dr. Brownstein's office, as usual,
and ended up arriving at 10:35 AM for my 11:00 AM appointment.
The building was locked, (another weekend visit) so I stood outside
and watched a baseball game which was being played across the
street. After a few minutes, Dr. Brownstein came and unlocked
the door. He teased me about being early and apologized for making
me waitÑ he'd been on the phone when I rang the bell and
had to finish up his conversation. I assured him it wasn't a
problem and we went upstairs where I took off my shirt and got
on the examining table. Dr. Brownstein removed the binder (I
could breathe again!) and the dressings, then asked if I was
ready to have the drains removed. I assured him I was. He removed
the left one first and it was rather painful, but, again, I didn't
care at all. I was (and am) far too happy to be worried about
a little pain. Being curious, I asked him to let me see the part
of the drain which had been under my skin, and he obliged. The
section which had been subcutaneously situated was a long, rectangular
piece of plastic with numerous holes along each surfaceÉ
sort of like a double-sided soaker hose! When he removed the
right drain is was not as painful as the left had been. Again,
I didn't care. I was just happy to have them out. Then, he did
something I hadn't anticipated. He cut off the yellow pressure
bandages which had been stitched over the nip/areolar area! I
was *finally* able to see my bare chest and my nips. What a *great*
moment that was! The areolae are small (the size of a nickel)
and the new nips, though crusted with blood, are also small.
Right now, they are almost inverted, but Dr. Brownstein said
this is typical and they will "pop out" in a few days
or so. It was definitely one of the happiest moments of my life.
My chest was flat! The breasts were GONE! How could I possibly
describe how wonderful I felt? There was my chestÉ yes,
it was bruised and swollenÉ but it was flat and hard and
looked like a bio-male's chest. I wanted to keep staring, but,
of course, Dr. Brownstein had to proceed. I did ask him to take
two pics for me, which he kindly did before placing gauze over
the nips, which he assured me, were doing very well. The grafts
had taken! He also put some gauze over the drain holes and, finally,
a broad piece of cotton over the entire chest area. He then put
on the abdominal binder I had brought along. It was much smaller
than the original and felt 100% more comfortable. In fact, Dr.
Brownstein was so impressed with it he asked if he could keep
the box and see if he could order more for future patients. Later
in the day, I walked over to Pier 39 and bought: a clear quartz
crystal; a penny embedded in acrylic and surrounded by the engraved
words "Lucky Penny, San Francisco;" a Bluebird of Happiness
pin; a little travel sewing kit. I brought all that back to the
hotel and spent some time stitching the charms onto the black
bra I had worn to SF. I also wrote a few sentences on a piece
of paper (sort of a magic charm, a good-riddance farewell to
that flesh) and stitched that into the bra, too. Then, I folded
everything over and sewed it closed so all that remained was
a small black ball which fit easily into the palm of my hand.
It was pouring rain, so I couldn't perform the ceremony I intended.
I decided to wait until tomorrow. I plan to commit the bundle
to the waters of San Francisco Bay in order to formally put an
end to this era of my life. I can't stop staring at my chest!
With the drains out and the old binder gone it has the flat appearance
of a bio-male's chest. I feel *wonderful!* Sunday, 23 November,
1997 I woke up around 7:00 AM, having slept very little again.
I find it difficult to sleep because my mind is racing. I am
far too happy to bother with sleep. I feel like a whole new world
is unfurling before me! Anyway, I wanted to get out to the pier
before all the tourists got up and interrupted my ceremony. My
binder had slipped down during the night so I took a chance and
opened it up just for a peek at my chest. What I saw looked great
and I was reassured to see "they" were *still* gone.
I determined to take the binder off tonight and really get a
good look. Went down to the pier that extends farthest out into
the bay, but there were two Chinese women there doing exercises
and it looked to me they would be there for a long time. Not
wanting to be interrupted, I opted to go to the end of Pier 39.
A good choice. No one was around. Just me, the sea lions, and
a few noisy gulls. I stopped directly beneath the Pier 39 flags
which slapped lazily in the cool breeze, and there, I consigned
the bra to the blue-green water. It floated marvelously and I
was able to take a number of pictures as it drifted, taking on
water, before slowly disappearing beneath the surface. I had
a distinct sense of closure. One era of my life ending and a
new, exciting one, just beginning. It is exactly one week since
I arrived in San Francisco. How good it is to think of the little
bundle sinking to the bottom of the bay in the thin light of
the rising sun. A new birth. And all the people who will pass
by, unaware. And most people who come here are happy. They are
on vacation and enjoying themselves, so their joy and mine will
meld together. At night, I removed the binder and the large white
cotton pad and examined my chest. The incisions Dr. Brownstein
made appear to be very thin. And he used a lot of sutures, which
means the scarring will be far less pronounced than if he had
used staples or fewer, large sutures. I touched my chest and
felt how hard it is. I can't wait for R. to see it! Monday, 24
November, 1997 Exactly one week since surgery. Today, the sutures
will be removed! Took a cab to Dr. Brownstein's office and arrived
at 9:25 AM for my 9:30 AM appointment. Dr. Brownstein seemed
to be in a particularly good mood today and I had a really great
time talking with him. He removed all of the sutures and assured
me that everything looks very good. He instructed me to apply
moist heat to the right side of my chest where there is still
considerable swelling, as well as a pretty large hematoma. He
said the moist heat will help break up the blood and reduce the
swelling. He applied "liquid skin" to the incisions
and then put tape over them. He said I may get the tape wet in
the shower and should just pat it dry afterwards. It should stay
on for at least a few days, but I shouldn't worry if it falls
off after that time. I must cover the nips/areolae with gauze
pads and tape them down for one more weekÉ and wear the
binder, too, for one more week. Finally, he assured me the residual
swelling is only temporary. He told me not to even expect to
be fully healed for about six months, so I shall have to be patient.
But I can easily say that won't be too difficult because, even
as it is, my chest is 100% better than it was only one week ago.
What an incredible journey this has beenÉ and what a remarkable
man Dr. Brownstein is. I feel deeply indebted to him for providing
such fine service. I truly feel he is sympathetic about TS issues
and genuinely interested in helping to bring our bodies into
alignment with our mental/spiritual image of ourselves. Tuesday,
25 November, 1997 This will probably be the last entry I write
here in San Francisco. The end of this journey, which has been
so profound, is swiftly approaching. I took my first shower since
the morning of the surgery! It felt splendid, even though I had
to keep my back towards the spray. Glorious! Both nipples bled
slightly when I changed the gauze pads. Nothing major, but I
didn't know if that was normal or not. I didn't want to bother
Dr. Brownstein, so I just told myself not to worry about it and
went for a long walk which ended at Barnes & Noble. Interestingly,
though I'd been in there numerous times before, I hadn't noticed
they had the magazine, Transgender Tapestry. I picked it up and
began perusing. Mostly, it dealt with MtF concerns, and I was
preparing to put it down when I noticed (in the index) a reference
to an article about bilateral mastectomies for FtM's. It turned
out to be Andy's journal entries about *his* surgery with Dr.
Brownstein. I'd read them many times before, so I just glanced
at the account, reflecting on my own experience as compared to
hisÉ but then, strangely, right at the end of the piece,
I noticed additional entries which I'd never seen before. These
dealt specifically with scabs which Andy had on his nipples after
surgery. Talk about synchronicity! Andy indicated he'd had some
bleeding, tooÉ and that it took one and a half months
for the right scab to come offÉ and several more weeks
for the left. Strange, to have my question answered in such an
unusual way. I can't wait to get home tomorrow! Thursday, 27
November, 1997 Arrived home much later than I anticipated yesterday
because of heavy rains in San Francisco and, of course, holiday
travelling. Not much to say except that I have never cared about
Thanksgiving beforeÑ but this year, I have *a lot* to
be thankful for. Every time I look at my chest, or touch it,
I am overjoyed. What was once absolutely wrong is now perfectly
right. I am that much closer to having my body conform to who
I really am. R. thinks I look great, too! It was truly a wonderful
moment in my life when I asked her to close her eyes as I unbuttoned
my shirt. The expression on her face when she opened her eyes
and looked, for the first time, at my chest, was priceless. I
could tell she was utterly delighted, even though my chest is
bruised, swollen, and scarred. She knows it is right for me and
she said it feels right for her, too because she has always known
I am a male trapped in a female body. Physically speaking, things
won't be so awkward between us any more. She won't have to pretend
my female chest isn't thereÉ because *it really isn't
there anymore!* Friday, 28 November, 1997 A. and L. both came
over today and I showed them my chest. They are totally impressed
and happy for me. It's hard to believe, but I feel happier every
day. Saturday, 29 November, 1997 Slight bleeding from nips in
AM. Although Dr. Brownstein said I should wear the binder until
Monday, I just can't stand it any more. It feels too good to
be out of it. So, I left it off after my shower this morning.
My first day running around with absolutely nothing under my
shirt but the tape over the incisions and the little gauze pads
over my nips. Talk about being ecstatic! Sunday, 30 November,
1997 Slight bleeding from right nip in AM. Tuesday, 2 December,
1997 Dr. Brownstein sent me e-mail and said the scabs will peel
off in due time. I should not pick at them. He also said my range
of motion will gradually returnÉ not to push it. I started
applying Vitamin E oil to the nips and directly to the tape over
my incisions. I've also been taking Vitamin E capsules to expedite
healing. Wednesday, 3 December, 1997 Wrote a few notes to Dr.
Brownstein today (had some questions). I worried that I would
be driving him mad, but he was as kind and attentive as ever
and responded directly. What a great guy! He said the nips will
be crusted over with blood for some time yet and that a little
bleeding is not uncommon when the gauze is changed. He also said
I don't have to be overprotective of them and that, if I want,
I can remove the gauze pads any time as the grafts have definitely
taken. I'm still a little paranoid about them, though, and keep
telling my buddies that I am practicing "safe shirt,"
meaning I keep the nips covered with the gauze pads so I don't
injure them when I put a shirt on or take it off. Dr. Brownstein
also said I can remove the tape, which never did peel off, from
over the incisions. If I do so, he said I can leave it off for
a day or two and then put more on in the interest of trying to
keep the scarring to a minimum. Accordingly, I removed the tape
tonight. It felt odd, not having that protective coating over
the incisionsÉ but it wasn't bad. Sadly, I discovered
some stretch marks on my beautiful new chest. I had had them
before surgery, but they had been rather faint. Now, however,
they are terribly noticeable. I felt devastated, but I asked
Dr. Brownstein about it and he said I shouldn't focus too much
on them as even some bio-guys have them and, anyway, they should
fade over time, once the healing process is finished. A bunch
of my buddies from the MtM list shared similar problems after
I told them about the situation. They all said the marks faded
with time. I am so lucky to have Dr. Brownstein to reassure me,
and, of course, the guys from the MtM list who have truly become
my brothers: A, S, T, M, etc.. Saturday, 6 December, 1997 Took
the gauze pads off my nips for good. Now, I am wearing absolutely
nothing under my shirts and there isn't anything in the world
that can describe how fantastic it feels! At night, before I
go to bed, I put Vitamin E oil on the incisions, the stretch
marks, nips, and areolae. I swear it has already made a *significant*
differenceÑ I seem to be healing at an amazingly quick
rate. R. keeps remarking how impressed she is. Wednesday, 10
December, 1997 I woke up last night in a pool of sweat. I was
actually so drenched my sheets had adhered to my skin. I'd been
having a nightmare where I discovered my surgery had only been
a dream and that "they" were still attached to me!
The horror I felt was absolutely awful. I awoke in a cold sweat
with my heart slamming in my chest like a locomotive engine.
What a blessed relief to place my hands on my chest and feel
only the comforting hardnessÑthe flat maleness of it.
A wonderful surprise tonight. I lifted up my shirt when I went
into the bathroom to brush my teethÉ I just can't stop
peeking at my chest. Anyway, much to my delight, I discovered
that the scab over my right nipple had fallen off during the
day. Now, there is just a small, perfect, pink nipple there.
Dr. Brownstein is a genius! Friday, 12 December, 1997 Sunday,
14 December, 1997 Last night was the first night I have slept
without a binder or a shirt on since having surgery! I have been
wearing a shirt at night because I don't want to stain everything
with all the Vitamin E I put on. But last night, I was with R.
and so didn't want to have oil all over my chest. Anyway, making
love is certainly a totally different experience now. I feel
sleek and more like the man I really am than ever before. It
is a totally liberating feeling. My chest is still rather numb,
so when she touched me it felt "blunted," But I know,
given time, the nerves will recover. I doubt the nips will ever
regain sensation, but, having never felt anything in them before
surgery, I don't regret that at all. Great News! When I went
to put Vitamin E oil on my left nip this AM the scab peeled almost
all the way off! I was elated, but then decided I wanted a pic
with just the one scab, so I had R. take a few pics before it
fell off. And a good thing, too, because tonight, all but the
tiniest piece *did* come off! Well, I can't say I didn't help
it along just a little bit by applying some warm, moist, cloths
to it and massaging it with Vitamin E oil, but I did refrain
from pulling off the little bit which still seems quite attached,
so at least I had *some* self-control. Monday, 15 December, 1997
MY ONE MONTH ANNIVERSARY! Four weeks ago, on this day, I had
my surgery. Now, exactly one month after, I am healing *very*
nicely. The scabs are almost completely gone, save for the tiny
bit which remains on the left nip. I feel great, can take a shower
without any fear of anything falling off, and, it seems the cream
I am using on the stretch marks is beginning to have at least
some effect. I *hope* that is the caseÑthat I'm not just
imagining things. My range of motion is pretty much back to normal,
though there are still a few movements which cause a bit of strain.
The scars are still quite red, but they are very thin and I think
they will fade to almost nothing in the future. Still, they don't
bother me as I suspected they might at one point. Before I decided
on double incision, I had contemplated going with keyhole because
I didn't want the scars. Now, however, I find part of me *likes*
them because they are a sort of badgeÉ a reminder of where
I have been, what I have gone through to get where I now am.
I am happy beyond words. What a difference a few weeks has made.
All the years of humiliation and discomfort are gone and I am
free to feel proud of my chest. Just putting on a shirt each
morning is a delight. Feeling the fabric against my bare skin.
And I can't stop looking down at my chest and seeing only the
flatness there. Wednesday, 17 December, 1997 The rest of the
scab on the left nip is off! I must admit I did help it along
a bitÉ I rubbed a towel rather roughly over it to expedite
things. A "no-no," but I was so anxious to be totally
scab free. And so I am! Yes! PLEASE NOTE: I shall continue to
add on entries referring to the progress of my chest so that
this section will be complete. Stay tuned!
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