Part 19

Christmas Day will never feel the same — it seems like it’ll be a birthday for me too.
I didn’t go mad with the food as one would expect as I was a bit out of it…..

After I had opened my presents, the nurse came in and said it was time I got ready to move over to the nursing home, so I gently went about the business of getting some clothes on and making myself tidy — I was still sporting a lot of stitches and they were very itchy. I was still leaking a lot of fluid — mostly white blood cell plasma apparently.
So I was wearing an enormous sanitary pad and a large pair of knickers under a woollen skirt — the one I had bought before the trip. I had a few layers on top to keep me warm and I knew that I would need it too. The temperature outside was about 2c.

A wheelchair was brought for me and I was gently sat in it one a very soft foam pad — It was still not comfy but it was bearable for what would be 10 mins of gentle rolling between the Hospital and the Home. A warm blanket was tucked in round my legs.

Apparently it was done quite often and if the patient was fit for the nursing home, then they were fit for the transfer by wheelchair. I had no control over it though as it was one of those with 4 small wheels — not big ones you can grab.

The nurse bid me adieu and gave me a hug and said she would pop in to say goodbye before I went home. The orderly was a big square headed guy with a linebacker’s shoulders and a smile like Arnie. I guessed he could carry the wheelchair if things went wrong.

“C’mon mum, let’s get this over with” I was getting impatient as my stitches were pulling already and I’d only been sat for ten minutes. The orderly was trying to look patient but was already champing at the bit as mum fussed around picking up flowers and stuff.

“You go on ahead, I’ll catch you up.” She answered over her shoulder and tried to cram another book under her arm.
“That one isn’t mine mum — it’s the Hospital’s.” I said.
“Oh right,” she put it back down and dropped the magazines she had in the other hand.
Dad rolled his eyes — “leave it now Beth we can come back for the rest if we have to.”
“Oh, right,” mum retrieved the magazines and spilled some water from a vase in the carrier bag she had over her arm.
I started to giggle — my stitches pulled a bit tighter… “Ouch, that’s sore.” I winced.

“C’mon Misses Chaplin, I know the Charlie Chaplin Institut is close by but you’re not auditioning today.” Dad was grinning and trying to hold her up as she skidded on the water she spilt.

Eventually we got to the front door and through the glass we could see huge flakes of snow swirling round the entry.
“Das ist nicht gut,” the intern stopped where he was and locked my wheels, “moment bitte.” He walked over to the desk.

After a moment he returned, “We muss go by ambulancewagen fraulein” he informed me, “I will pick you up here in a minute or two, please wait here.” Suddenly — he was gone.
Mum and dad plonked down in the lobby on the sofas supplied — looking like sherpas with their packs and cases. “At least we’ll get to go by car.” Mum sighed.

The small ambulance came round to the front and my chaperon came for me. He turned to mum and Dad.

“Leider — ah in English — I cannot take you in the ambulance, I apologise. It is for patients only, insurance does not cover passengers.” He intoned translating as he went into his quite acceptable English.

So he helped me into the front seat, abandoning the chair, and strapped me in — “Here we go" he said. I waved at mum and dad as he let in the clutch and we gently pulled out of the covered porchway. Leaving mum and dad with gaping mouths and two armloads of stuff each!.

The roads were not impassable, but the snow was thickening on the pavement and mum and dad were going to be more than a few minutes following me up the road.

We got there in less than 3 minutes as it was really only just round the corner.
I had been transferred to my new bed and was tucked in before two slightly damp and cold parents appeared at my door — minus the carrier bag with the vase of flowers. Mum had skidded and dropped it and it broke.

I started to laugh at the sight and mum gave me “the frown” — so I held it down to a titter and opened my arms to give her a consolation hug.
Dad was gracious but a little miffed that he had to walk.

I would dine out on this for months!

However I had sustained a bit of injury myself and popped a few stiches. I told the nurse who introduced herself, it took me a minute or two as her English was not so good. When I said “Stitches” she perked up and said “Ah”.

She had a little look and pronounced me “OK” I knew the doctor was coming to see me later so I demurred, and decided to tell him myself.
The nurse did write something on my chart — which had appeared a few minutes after me. It was the one from the hospital so they were not going to be confused.

Mum and dad tried to keep me amused by playing cards and scrabble with me for a while but I got a bit tired and sent them off to get their lunches so I could doze.

I guess I wasn’t as perky as I thought as even that bit of excitement had taken its toll and I was quite tired. And a bit uncomfortable if the truth be told.
The room was nice and the bed was ok, but I was cranky. Well I was allowed to be — I was in a Krankenhaus wasn’t I?

When I came round, the sun was setting and mum and dad were dozing on the sofa leaning against each other like Laurel and Hardy. I felt heaps better but I’d been out for about 3 hours or so!

The nurse came in and took my vitals and the noise woke the slumbering duo.
“Oh dear, we fell asleep — what a waste of Christmas Day.” Mum looked at her watch.
Dad declared, “Well I think I must have been trained by experts, I’ve fallen asleep every Christmas day after lunch for as long as I can remember!”

The nurse looked at her watch, “Now it is time for Jenny to do her exercises, you must please come back later, in one hour.”
Dad almost clicked his heels and mimed “Jawohl, mein fuhrer” grinned at me and helped mum on with her coat — “We’ll just go and get a drink in the hotel and see you later pet.”

I did my exercises, the nurse got me to try #3 which was a bit bigger but not so daunting as Big Bertha (WWI gun that used to shell across the Channel) which I had christened my largest ‘challenge’.

I managed to get it a bit stuck but it wasn’t painful — once I got it out and lubed back up it went in a bit further but not all the way. It had a bit of pink on it too which was a bit scary.

“So Jenny, you have successfully changed beds, how did you feel afterwards?” The doctor held my wrist and then looked into my eyes.

“Fine, I think I popped a few stitches though,” I replied to prime his curiosity.

“ I think then that I will have a little look to check you haven’t undone ALL my handiwork.” He smiled at me and motioned to the nurse to prepare me as he went to wash his hands.
Two minutes later he pronounced me fine — “The stitches were dissolving, they were very small ones that I would expect to be gone by tomorrow anyway. So no harm done.”

“There was a little blood on the #3 stent as well doctor, and it didn’t go all the way in.” I supplied more information hoping for his reassurance.

“This is normale, you are stretching the new skin inside — it is supposed to happen a little do not be discouraged — you are healing very well indeed.” He certainly knew how to reassure me.

He removed his gloves and offered me a box of tissues — “if you’d like to tidy yourself, it would be good practice for when you are home. You will not always have a nurse to look after you. Unless your parents are very rich indeed,” he added. “In which case, I may not have charged enough for the operation.” He laughed gently to ensure I was ‘in’ on the joke. I joined him.
“I will see you tomorrow night I think, I do not need to disturb you in the morning. The nurse can do that. See you tomorrow Jenny.” And with that he was off back to his family.

Since I was lying there pretty much exposed, I decided to venture a look at my new anatomy — hoping it was a little less gruesome. There was a makeup mirror on the dresser which I grabbed and placed between my legs. The bruising was a lot less and the yellow stuff they had painted on was almost gone too. The result was a lot more like a rather bald (Brazilian!?) normal female than I’d expected and I felt relieved — until I realised mum was at the door smirking and had stopped dad in the hall before he’d got to the doorway (thank GOD!!!).

“EEK” escaped my lips and I nearly dropped the mirror on the floor. I pulled the bedclothes up so fast I thought I was going to get carpet burns on my toes!

“Oh my god, that’s SOOO embarrassing.” I could feel the heat from my skin and I didn’t know where to look.

“Well you’d better get used to it — it looked pretty normal from where I was.” Mum joked.

“What?” Dad was allowed into the room, “What did I miss?”

“Dad, you do NOT want to know.” Mum squeezed my hand and we shared a girly moment.

Dad looked like he suddenly understood as he looked elsewhere and coughed a bit and pretended he hadn’t a clue what we were talking about.

The nurse asked if mum and dad would like to stay for dinner — schinken mit bratkartofeln — (Ham and Roast Potatoes) - as it was Christmas. So they joined me and I was allowed to sit at the small table in the room with them and eat my fill.

I felt I was improving in leaps and bounds.

After mum and dad left I was treated to a warm salt bath and tucked in by the night nurse. I felt replete and quite well healed. Life was taking on a more normal feel and I slept very well.

“That is very good Jenny,” the nurse took the stent from me and wrapped it in a tissue and put it back on the tray.

I lay there realising that I had done what the doctor had said I would — accomplished all that he had asked of me - #4 — Big Bertha no longer seemed so significant.
I had well and truly ‘done it’

The nurse took the tray of implements into the bathroom and while she was washing them, I cleaned myself up and disposed of the tissues.
“Can I have a shower please nurse?”

“Ja, das ist in ordnung, die dusche ist frei.” She called back and I heard her turn on the water to get it warm.

I hopped off the bed and padded across to the bathroom, no twinges and no pain. Life was feeling pretty good.

“Tomorrow you will be going home ja?” The nurse asked as she wiped down the sink.

“Yes I think so, if the doctor says it is Ok.” I smiled at the thought — my own bed.
Proper English food.

I quickly washed myself down and dried myself — just being a little gentler in the nether regions, but it was feeling less weird each time I showered — the feeling of vacancy is really strange at first.

I quickly dressed as mum and dad were soon due and they were taking me to the hotel restaurant for dinner — the snow had settled and the pavements had been cleared and were safe and dry. I wasn’t going to slip over and hurt myself.

Tomorrow the doctor would be in to check me out for the last time and I knew he’d be ok as I’d had no problems and #4 was now ticked off.

I was brushing my hair when mum arrived, “Dad’s waiting downstairs, He reckons you’ll be quicker if he doesn’t come up.” I could feel cold air emanating from mum.

“How cold is it outside?”

“About minus 10c according to the thermometer outside the hotel. But it’s only 200 yards to the restaurant and you’ve plenty of lagging on.”

She was right - I had thick woollen tights, underskirt and long wool skirt — boots and three layers of top clothing before my coat!! I was NOT going to freeze!

We joined dad and I walked between them to the restaurant and they held onto me like I was being escorted to the firing squad — I was not going to get away — or fall down!
We arrived in plenty of time and were seated immediately, I was allowed to order a glass of wine and we had some bubbly as well — what a celebration - New Year’s Eve.

I wasn’t allowed out til midnight, but that was ok — I wanted to be good for going home tomorrow. There was still a bit of bruising and some stitches were still evident — they were VERY itchy too as a lot of feeling had returned and the hard little ends were poking me — but I managed to ignore all but the worst jabs!

Dinner was a blur — I was just so happy that everything was ok and I was nearly better. We ate a pork knuckle in caraway gravy with dumplings — very heavy food but it seemed like our bodies required it to keep out the cold and none of us suffered indigestion -.Schwienshaxe. I shall try to cook one one day but would it be edible in Australia…?

I had a Black Forest Cake for desert — it was so soaked in Kirsch (cherry schnapps) that it made my eyes water.

“Well Jenny, happy New Year darling. This is one year you’ll never forget. Last year you were a nice young boy who was perhaps a little sad. Now you are a wonderful young lady with the world in front of you.”
A toast I think is in order, to all the world and to all our friends and family, I give you Jenny, my beautiful daughter.”

I sat there and blushed as mum and dad chinked heir glasses and I felt one or two drops of water fall from my eyes. “You sure are the mushiest family- how did I ever get involved with you lot? Thank you — did I already say that? Well I might as well make sure you heard me - I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your compassion, your love and your sacrifice. Oh and the money for the operation….”
I grinned and chinked their glasses.

Pretty soon I was feeling quite tired and we decided to call it a night — they hustled me back to the Nursing home for my last night before we returned to UK.

The next morning I felt a little less awake and I guessed the alcohol was to blame, however the nurse did not relent and made sure #4 had been used before she let me off the hook.

The doctor came round and mum and dad were with me as he entered.
“Well good morning to the family Holland, Happy New Year to you.” He grinned and shook mum and dad’s hands and then looked at me still in bed.
“I think I should have a quick check of Jenny to make sure she is ready to take on the world, if you could give me five minutes?” He smiled and ushered M & D out of the room. Turning back to me he said, “Now my dear, today I release you back into civilisation and I do so knowing that you have every chance of leading a normal female life. You are pretty and intelligent, you have transitioned young enough to enjoy a proper female adolescent growth spurt, which means your body is as female as it could be.”
He paused for a moment, turning to the nurse. “If you could help Jenny so I can do my final assessment of our patient?”

The nurse nodded and smiling at me and winking pulled back the covers and helped me raise my nightie to allow the doctor access.
As he washed his hands he said over his shoulder, “So how do you feel about it all Jenny? I know you seem to be handling it well but I’m not a psychiatrist so I can’t judge how well you’re coping mentally. Would you like to tell me how you feel?”

He turned to me as he pulled on his latex gloves, I smiled at him and looked him in the eye.

“I have to say doctor, I’m really still on cloud nine. This last week has been quite painful but it’s been like being reborn I guess. My body seems to fit with who I am inside and I realise now that that background disenchantment with how things were has gone.” I looked across at the nurse. “The people here have made me feel special and haven’t complained about not being with their families on Christmas Day or New Years Day. They’ve been like family themselves — there to see to my every need. I can only say to you like I said to my parents last night, thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

The doctor and nurse both looked a bit surprised at my eloquence but I had been memorising this speech since I woke up — there was no way I could leave without giving them a really big hug and thank you.

“Well, let’s have a quick look see then eh?” The doctor moved towards me and the nurse looked on from the other side.

“Well most of the stiches have dissolved now — though there’s still some stuck to the skin, but they’ll fall away as soon as you move around a bit.” He moved the labia and checked in the folds. “Yes all clean and very natural looking — just a little bruising left. That should be gone by next week.” He checked the chart, “You have 150mm with stent #4? That is wonderful, if you keep up the exercises, you will gain a little more depth. Even now, you will have no problems, but a little more depth is always a good thing just in case eh?” He gave me a cheeky wink and I coloured up a little.

“Now where are your parents? Nurse could you see if you can find them for me. He stripped off his gloves and the nurse gave me some tissues to tidy up and she hurried off to find them.

They were back almost before I was covered up, they’d been outside the door.
“Ah there you are,” He reached in his pocket, “Here is your bill.” Then he laughed out loud as my dad’s eyes bugged out.

“Entshuldigen Sie Bitte, excuse me — sorry, a little joke I’m afraid. This envelope contains the letters of surgery and a note to your GP at home. You will need them to change the details of official documents and get through customs — if there are any difficulties.” He passed the letter over to dad who by this time was looking a little less like throwing up. “If there are any problems, my card is in the envelope and you can ring at any time. Please do not hesitate, it has been a pleasure working with your daughter, I wish her and you a very happy future.” His smile encompassed mum and dad and he held out his hand to dad who shook it firmly — mum gave him a little hug.

He turned back to me.

“And to you I wish all the happiness in the world,” he came over to shake my hand and I grabbed him and gave him the biggest hug. “Thank you so much, I shall never forget your kindness — and your sense of humour!!”

He coloured up a little and said, “hmm, quite, yes well.” And tentatively hugged me back — which considering he had his hands all over my nether regions was quite funny. I almost burst out laughing but I refrained.

He turned to dad, “Thank you Herr Holland, Viel Gluck, er good luck and have a good trip home, Jennifer is all yours, look after her, she is a lovely young lady.” He shook dad’s hand once more, winked at me and left the room.

There was a sort of sound vacuum for a second and then the nurse broke it with, “If you’d like to come and sign the release papers, you may take Jennifer home.” She curtsied in Swiss style and also left.

“Right Jenny, get dressed pet and I’ll pack up your stuff. All our stuff is at the hotel ready for us to pick up — the flight is set for midday which leaves us 3 hours to get checked in. So we can take it easy and have lots of time.” Mum was all set to get back to UK and was making sure we didn’t miss that plane!

I slipped out of bed as dad went to sign the papers — I was nearly dressed when he came back and heard him say to mum, “The nurse gave me this box for Jenny, what is it?” I had to grin, it had to be my dilators!.

“Michael, if you don’t know what’s in there, you really don’t want to look.” Mum snorted a bit and he was gingerly handing the box to mum as I came out of the bathroom. He looked a bit sheepish and gave me one of those embarrassed grins that men do when you talk about girly stuff.

“Put them in my grip bag please mum, I’m going to need them as soon as I get home so I’ll take them as cabin luggage.”

I looked round the room where I had been reborn, well recovered anyway. Nothing memorable about it — even the view was nothing spectacular. I would never forget it.

-------------------
Customs was a hoot.

“This passport says male, this is obviously not the passport for this lady.” The pedantic Swiss Customs man was not going to let dad get away without a fight.

Dad was about to try to explain when mum tapped him on the shoulder.” Give him the letter from the surgeon. I saw dad’s eyes roll back. “Of course.”

Once the letter was proffered, the customs man looked at me — “Really?” I nodded.
Dad got the passports and letter back and we proceeded on our way to the departure lounge.

“I think we need to get these things sorted out pretty soon, I’d forgotten all about that. I wonder why you didn’t get stopped on the way in?”

We pondered that question and the only thing we could come up with was they wanted us to spend our money in their country… though I would guess that the real reason was simply lack of attention.

When we got back to UK after an uncomfortable hour and a half sitting on a doughnut full of air — they really don’t help much — the customs lady in UK barely looked at my passport then did a double take but didn’t stop me when I smiled at her. I think there must have been enough resemblance, and it’s not illegal to wear a skirt even if you are a boy — which I’m thankful to say I’m not even if my passport says I am (for now).
I was glad to be home and sore and tired when we opened the front door.
I would have forgone the ‘exercises’ but mum grabbed my grip bag — took out the box and said “go do your exercises and then get ready for bed, I’ll bring you some tea in a little while.

That night I slept like the dead.