Stella makes Cathy a tempting offer....

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Bonzi & Tiddles
part: half way to two hundred and fifty, or an eighth of a thousand! (that is frightening!!!)

I eventually calmed down through exhaustion as much as anything else and got off the toilet, my bum stuck to the seat and when I detached myself, had a nice ring around my bum and my foot had gone to sleep.

What to do in such emergencies? Make a cuppa. As I drank the delicious fluid I tried to reflect upon the situation I was in. I suspected that my stress levels had overwhelmed my threshold and it was simply stress, either that or I was pregnant! Well I had lain with a man - that cheered me up and I giggled at the absurdity.

See a cuppa does cheer you up, it also makes you want to wee, so back to the loo I went, which reminded me of something that was hanging over me. Well not exactly, it was more hanging out of me and would need some attention.

By now it was nearly five, and I decided I'd stay up and try and sort these things out. I climbed in the shower and after copious soaking and lubrication with shower gel, pulled everything back to its original configuration, except the ovoid bits, they stayed where I'd shoved 'em. I wasn't sure whether or not I should be worried.

After drying myself, I decided the skin looked okay, which was a pleasant surprise. I did think about alowing them to dangle for a few days but then changed my mind. I preferred to maintain the illusion.

By six thirty, and hot and sweaty again, I had managed to refold and glue into cosmetic and urinary satisfaction my aberrant bits. I needed another cuppa, boy did I need another cuppa and not to make any quick movements!

I decided I should have a word with my GP when I had a chance to make sure I wasn't doing anything dangerous. I couldn't see how I was unless I became allergic to the glue, in which case it would all blister and fall off. Not a nice idea, even though it made me giggle, as long as I didn't sit too upright, things were tight, in a manner of speaking.

It was wednesday again, goodness how time flies when you are reconfiguring! I made some breakfast and was in the middle of reading the syllabus for the local college when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi Cathy, it's Stella. I'm having Simon home tomorrow are you still good for the weekend?"

"Wow, oh yeah, course." I lied, I had forgotten all about it.

"Oh good, I'll get some food in. I expect you'll enjoy cooking for your man, won't you?"

"Absolutely," I was becoming such a liar. I didn't know if he'd even speak to me after I stormed out on him last night.

"Is there anything you want me to get in?"

"Not too worried, I'm quite adaptable as long as you have a tin opener and a microwave."

"A real Nigella eh?"

"Absolutely, I can open a tin or switch on a microwave while wearing red lipstick, as well as any woman."

"Spoken like a true feminist."

Her remark took me a little by surprise. Me a feminist? In a broader context I supposed I was, except I tended to imagine short haired, bra burning, hairy legged, peace-niks camping outside an American Air base. But if feminist meant supporting the rights of women, count me in.

"I think I ought to tell you that Simon and I parted on less than happy terms last night."

"You haven't dumped him have you?"

"No, why?"

"Well I just bought this new hat and...."

"Stella, what are you on about. Women only buy hats for weddings and.... oh!" I blushed. "It's bad luck to buy things like that prematurely, the way we're going we might kill each other before then."

"It's okay it's black, I could wear it to the funerals."

"You are such a comfort." My psychic strangling techniques were obviously not working, she was still talking!

"Oh I try to be hon, but sometimes with Simon it is difficult."

"What should I do about...., I mean after...., well you know, last night?"

"Oh just go and see him, he's like a pet dog, he's usually forgotten about ten minutes later. So if he does anything to make you mad hit him there and then or he won't know what it's all about."

"I think I need to think about that Stella." I was still processing it, the idea of treating him like a puppy or kitten was not actually interacting with my own recollections of him. 'Bad boy, down!' Nah, that didn't resonate at all. Now like a large child, maybe. 'Be a good boy for mummy,' yeah that could work.

"I'll pop and see him this afternoon, thought I'd best go and see my dad as it's about a week since I was last there."

"Yeah okay, when will you be back down?"

"How about if I come saturday morning?"

"Yeah, fine. Couldn't bring your bread machine, could you?"

"Course I can."

"Oh luvverly, only Simon mentioned how nice your bread was and I thought, I'd like to try some."

"I'll do some over the weekend."

"If you do, make sure to save me some because he'll eat the bloody lot."

"I will either save you some or make some fresh for you, how's that?"

"You are the best sister-in-law a girl could wish for."

"You keep tempting providence Stella."

"Well shall we say, virtual sis-in-law?"

"Why not just Cathy, a good friend?"

"Are you telling me the wedding is off?"

"There is no wedding, Stella."

"But there will be as soon as you're sorted?"

"I don't know, that could be years away."

"What? Why is that?"

"Well to start with, I have to do a full year before they'll refer me for reassignment surgery. I was lucky to get the hormones so easily, some have to do that before they get them."

"Well don't worry about surgery, I know just the man."

"What?"

"An experienced urologist. Admittedly he hasn't done one for a year or two, but I'm sure he'd do it for you and he owes me a few favours."

"Stella, much as I'd love to have it done this afternoon, I think we're supposed to follow certain protocols."

"That's only to protect the quacks, in case you complain afterwards that it was all a big mistake. Apparently one or two do."

Having been caught up on a roller-coaster myself, I could understand that it could happen. I didn't think it applied to me, but who was I to gainsay the experts. Besides, Dr thomas had been so supportive of me, I wouldn't like to put her in an invidious position, nor alienate her. I liked her too much.

"Okay, I'll keep it mind when we get around to referral time."

"How about during the Christmas vacs?"

"What?" had I misheard her in some way.

"Well things are quiet and Michael, the surgeon is working. His daughter's getting married so he cant go skiing. He was piste off by it all. Ha ha." She laughed at her own joke.

"I'll have only done about three months by then Stella, it hardly qualifies me does it? Besides I need the referral confirmed by another shrink."

"I can probably arrange that too, have a tame semi-retired psychiatrist, I look after his prostate. When you have that in your hands, they tend to be putty."

"Stella, this is cutting corners. I don't want to upset my own doctor."

"It won't I'm sure."

"I'm not."

"Well suss her out the next time you see her. The offer is there if you want it."

"Thanks, I do appreciate it."

"Well I did see a dress to go with the hat and...."

"I have to go Stella, see you saturday."

"Oh okay."

I made some more tea, having abandoned my thoughts of teaching for the moment. As I sat dunking a digestive biscuit, I wondered if she wasn't perhaps right. I knew I wasn't going to change my mind, not for all the tea in China. So what was the point of waiting? especially after the struggle in the early hours, which was now throbbing gently.

I had no doubts about the surgery and who I was, but as for marriage, well I had plenty. I mean could I cope with such a pushy and bossy sister in law? Could I cope with Simon on a long term basis and the rest of his looney family? Would I be Lady Catherine, or was that just going to invite the spleen of the tabloids and invites from glossy mags to photograph my bidet?

Why was life so complicated? The ideas of early surgery were now buzzing around my head like flies around a midden. It was so tempting, it really was.