'How can these effeminate men call themselves women, let alone Lady Muck? (It's a male dominated system anyway which grants titles for marrying men!). No matter what pills, potions or surgery they have, they'll just be eunuchs with tits! Sista Eileen, Real Active Wimyn.'

Easy As falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part 184.

I went to bed with the events of the day buzzing around inside my head, it didn't make for easy sleeping despite the poor night before. Exhaustion eventually took over and I did sleep, but I was concerned about what was going on.

Tom had kept copies of papers which had mentioned the stories of my personal circumstances. I had looked on the internet and there were arguments about, 'How can someone who was born a male become a lady?' With a response that, 'Under non-discrimination laws, it was perfectly possible.'

Some of the comments were reasonable and well thought out, others were dreadful and full of prejudice. Rants rather than arguments. Some were from 'wimyn' who sounded like feminist activists, and they sparked answers from other women, one presumes, who argued it was wrong to judge others.

'How can these effeminate men call themselves women, let alone Lady Muck? (It's a male dominated system anyway which grants titles for marrying men!). No matter what pills, potions or surgery they have, they'll just be eunuchs with tits! Sista Eileen, Real Active Wimyn.'

'How can you be so sure who is what, such certainty is surely borne of a juvenile regard for black and white views on a grey subject. I don't have a problem seeing these people as female any more than I do you. Fundamentalism is standing so close to the bark, that you can't see the trees for the tree. Karen X, just an ordinary woman.'

'So if I don't want to work no more, all I need to do is get my d*ck cut off and marry a arsticrot? Sounds good 2 me. Gotta pay better than benifits. Darren 'won't work.'

'I think it takes more than that that Darren, besides if you did that your one hand would get no exercise at all! ;) Odd sod.'

'If you go through with this sex change Bill, you'll be no son of mine! Heehaw.'

'A friend of mine went through all the assessment and surgery to change her sex. She was attacked and raped by a gang of teenage thugs. She killed herself three months later. It's not transexuals who need condemning, it's those little bastards who roam around in gangs wearing hooded jackets. Too ashamed to show their ugly faces to the world. Scum bags! A Bereft Friend.'

'Shoot the bloody lot of them, bloody perverts! Sergeant Major.'

'I find your proclivity to violence more frightening than going on a date with someone who's a had a sex change! Chancer.'

And so on and so on. I saw there were ninety four responses. Do normal people visit the internet? Possibly not. I also assumed anyone who called themselves 'Sergeant Major' had probably never been closer to the army than watching Trooping of the Colour on TV.

Maybe the one which upset the most was that of the radical feminist. I'm a feminist in wanting better pay and conditions for women, and for supporting things like creches and child facilities. However, I'm also in favour of enabling men to become more family oriented too.

Most GID sufferers are accused of having very stereotypical gender roles. In some ways I do, in others I don't. Fiddling with bikes is hardly a femmy thing to do, but spoiling someone by nurturing them isn't very butch either. I'm just me, confused of Portsmouth.

I pulled myself out of bed when I heard Tom moving around, my eyeballs felt like they'd fallen in the sugar bowl or sand pit. I had got some sleep, but not as much as I'd liked to have had.

I showered, not because I was dirty but because I was trying to wake myself up. I dressed in jeans and a tee shirt and went down to see if Stella was up. She wasn't. I made her some coffee and went up to her bedroom.

I knocked and walked in, she was still asleep although something didn't feel right, and she looked very pale. I drew the curtains, she didn't move, and she did look pale. I felt her, she was cold and clammy and her pulse was racing - oh shit she was in shock.

"Stella," I called trying to wake her. She was unresponsive.

I pulled back the bedclothes and there was a pool of blood soaking into her nightdress and the sheets.

I ran screaming for Tom, "Call an ambulance now, she's haemorrhaging badly."

"What?" shouted Tom.

"Call an ambulance she is dying from blood loss, hurry."

He was running up the stairs and dialling 999 as he ran, he handed me the phone.

"Hello emergency, which service do you require?"

"Ambulance, quickly please my friend is bleeding to death."

"What's happening?"

"She had a termination yesterday and is haemorrhaging badly, she's unconscious in shock."

"An ambulance is on it's way, where are you?"

I gave them the address and directions, my name and anything else they wanted, I just wanted them here as quickly as possible.

"Stella, hang in there kiddo, you're gonna make it, the cavalry are on the way, just hang in there!" I was crying as I spoke to her, squeezing her hand and rubbing her forehead.

"Don't give in Stella, come on you're matron of honour at my wedding, how am I going to plan it without your help. How is Simon going tie his shoes, come one girl, hang on in there."

A siren sounded in the distance, Tom ran downstairs to let them in.

Moments later two breathless paramedics and a stretcher were entering the room, I drew back the bedclothes and showed the blood loss. The senior paramedic shook his head, but set up a drip on each arm. Then the four of us manhandled her onto the stretcher and somehow got her downstairs. I jumped in the back of the ambulance, grabbing my coat and bag en route.

They fixed her up to various monitors which showed she was in real trouble. Then telling me to hang on tight, his mate put his foot down and with sirens wailing we hammered through the streets of Portsmouth at goodness knows what speed.

Her blood pressure was so low, but it was stabilising with the drips, I kept talking to her, telling her keep going, that she was going to be alright, just to hang on. The paramedic in the back with me kept monitoring and shaking his head.

I refused to believe this could happen, I was crying and trying to be helpful. Stella didn't need negative messages, she needed hope. She was still alive, but only just.

The ambulance screamed to a stop and the two paramedics ripped open the doors and pulling the stretcher out on its wheels ran with it through the flap doors to Accident and Emergency. She was taken straight into a cubicle and with one look at her the duty doctor ordered four units of O neg blood. Even I knew it was universal donor, they would cross match and then fill her up with her regular group later.

I was led out to the office to give her details to the nurse. I couldn't help Stella now, the experts would do that, so I tried to help the experts.

"So what happened?"

"She had a termination yesterday or the day before. I picked her up from the clinic. She went to bed after a light meal last night and she was okay, I think she was when I checked on her when I went to bed, about eleven or so. I went to take her a cuppa about half seven and found her unconscious, cold and sweating. I pulled back the sheets and saw the blood, she has lost a great deal. Then I called the ambulance."

She took Stella's name and address. "This sounds familiar, she's not a nurse is she?"

"Yeah a nurse specialist in urology."

"Are you the woman who was on the TV the other night with her brother?"

"Yeah, that was me."

"Good luck, I think you're very brave."

"Erm, thanks, but right now, I'm more worried about saving my sister in law to be."

"Yeah of course, we'll do all we can. Go and have a seat in the waiting room."

"I need to call her family, can I use my mobile?"

"Can you do it outside?"

"Yeah sure."

I called Simon's mobile, his voice mail cut in. He could be anywhere. "Hi Simon, it's Cathy, Stella is critically ill in hospital, call me urgently."

Then I called her father. "Hi Henry, it's Cathy."

"Hello Cathy, to what do I attribute this pleasure."

"Stella is very ill in hospital, I just arrived with her in the ambulance."

"What happened?"

"She has haemorrhaged down below, I found her unconscious when I went to call her."

"Where is she?"

"Queen Mary."

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Have you told Simon?"

"I left him a voice mail, he's not answering his mobile."

"Okay, I'll page him. Can you stay there?"

"I'm not going anywhere until she's okay."

"Good for you girl, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thanks Henry."

"No Catherine, it is I who should be thanking you."

"See ya soon." I blushed and rang off.

I watched doctors and nurses rushing back and fore like scalded cats. At one point three of them arrived at once, I learned later it was the 'Crash Team', she had arrested and they managed to start her again.

I was in a sort of dream, or it felt like it. I was sure I'd wake up in a moment, except I knew this was real. I was too worried and scared to do anything other than worry and pray. I thought of Marguerite and wished she were there to hold my hand and talk me through this, praying to a God I wasn't sure existed.

On a whim I phoned her. "Hello vicarage," said a female voice.

"Is that Marguerite?"

"It is, who is that?"

"It's Cathy Watts, you may remember we talked a while back."

"I saw you on TV the other night."

"I need your help."

"Why, what has happened?"

I explained through tears what had transpired that morning and my need to believe in something, if only the cleverness of the emergency team. She comforted and consoled me and together we said the Lord's prayer, which was ingrained in me.

"I have to go Cathy, but I'll go straight down to the church and light a candle for her."

"Will it help?" I asked.

"It will help me," she said, "God doesn't need gestures, just love."

"Okay," I agreed, "light one for me too."

"I will do. Come and see me sometime whatever happens today."

"Okay, I will."

As soon as I ended the call my phone peeped and a text message appeared. 'On my way, Si.'

Now I had to work out what I was going to say to him and to her father. Both of whom will be upset if they find out about the termination. Do I need to tell them? Oh shit, why is it always me?