(aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2231 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad
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“You wanted to speak with me,” Sam Rose reminded me.
“Yes. I still don’t know if Danni is transgendered.”
“Oh dear, in which case she could be stuck with a lifestyle that is going to prove wrong for her.”
“That’s my worry.”
“How long has she lived in role?”
“A few months.”
“And she’s now effectively post op?”
“Yes, frightening isn’t it?”
“What does Stephanie say?”
“She isn’t sure either.”
“So she could find herself as a female to male transperson?”
“That is my nightmare.”
“Oh dear. I don’t know what to say.”
“There is nothing to say. Mr O’Rourke had no option but to go for the vaginoplasty because that was what Pia intended.”
“It’s a pain when being outmanoeuvred by a thirteen year old.”
“Try a nine year old,” I suggested.
“Ah no. I know my limitations. Why d’you think I palmed her off on you?”
“Obviously not for the reasons I thought it was.”
He smirked. “She’s done well with you.”
“I suppose she has. Have I done well with her though?”
“I think you’ve done remarkably well with her and by her. She’s a challenge but I think you’re one of the few people who could cope with it. You truly are a tzidkanit, aren’t you?”
“Didn’t you call me that once before?”
“I did, and I stand by it. I’ll also tell you that I’ve only ever called one other person it, and she died in a refugee camp in Jordan trying to save the lives of others.”
“Compared to her, I’m not worthy.”
“Who said I was comparing you? I was complimenting you. Now go and look after your newest daughter, but do it proudly as a tzidkanit–as a special one.”
I hugged him and went back into Danni’s room where the nurse was finishing washing her. “Here’s your mum, she can wash your hair for you.”
“Will you, Mummy?”
“Wash your hair?”
“Yeah, I know it’s short but it’s all greasy and ’orrible.”
“How about I ask Phoebe or Julie to do it for you tonight and to bring in a hairdryer to tidy it up?”
“Can’t you do it?”
“I didn’t bring any shampoo with me, darling.”
“Oh all right, ask Julie tonight.”
A woman police officer poked her head round the door, “Is this the boy that was castrated?”
I glared at her but Danni shrugged and said, “I haven’t seen any boys in here, have you, Mummy?”
“No I haven’t, darling,” I said refusing to break eye contact with this latest incarnation of plod mentality.
“The ward sister said he was in this room,” she blushed.
“This is a female ward, isn’t it?” I asked her.
“This end is, so is he up the other end?”
“How would I know?” I replied.
Okay, thanks.” She wandered off. I knew she’d be back and would be ratty but I didn’t like her attitude and would tell her so.
“Is she looking for me, d’you reckon?” asked Danni.
“Almost certainly. I doubt that yours is a common injury.”
“Me neither.”
I combed out Danni’s hair while we waited. She bumbled back in looking very grumpy. “Very funny–I don’t think.”
I shrugged, “You were looking for a boy, this is a girl.”
“Now, by all accounts. I’ve come to take a statement, if he/she can remember.”
“I think that from now on, the only pronoun that will be apposite for Danielle is a feminine one.”
“Okay, will it be all right if I take a statement from her.
“Ask her, not me.”
“You’re her mother?”
“Yes, but she’s thirteen and therefore able to tell you if she feels up to talking about it.”
“Do you, Danielle?”
“If you like.”
“I would like, we need to decide if there is enough evidence to prosecute your little friend with the scalpel.”
“Didn’t her parents make a statement?”
“I have no idea, I’ve only been told to speak with you.”
Danni agreed to talk to her and I intervened saying that this was still a very emotional subject to discuss and if I considered she was in too much distress, she would have to leave. She agreed but with reluctance.
She was there about an hour by which time Danni was flagging and I was getting ready to throw her out when she announced she had enough. She also apologised for her earlier insensitivity and told Danni she made a pretty girl and wished her good luck. Danni went off to sleep beaming with pride.
I’m sure that quite a significant number of people think transgender folk are like drag queens or have two heads. They seem genuinely surprised that we’re as normal as anyone else and just as nice.
A nurse came round with cups of tea and I took one gratefully. Danni had one too. When the nurse had gone, I said to her, “I didn’t think you liked tea?”
“I don’t, this is for you.” She handed me the cup, so I had to drink two cups of tea–but I think I was up to it.
She eventually had to give in to sleep and I made my escape leaving her to snooze and recover some of her strength. I did a little shopping on the way home worrying what we were going to give as presents this year–oh shit–I hadn’t done my cards even. I felt really dejected by the time I got home and it must have been obvious because Jacquie noticed it.
I was tired, stressed and too close to Christmas for comfort. I admitted that I hadn’t done my cards and she offered to help me. After a quick lunch we set to and I wrote the cards while she addressed them. Next year, I determined to do a label set up on the computer–a job for Sammi while she’s recovering, perhaps.
Later, I posted the cards on the way to hospital. Danni was sleeping so I went to see Sammi whose boyfriend was there so I spoke briefly to them and went off to see Danni again. She was still sleeping so I just sent her love as I sat down beside her. After a few minutes she called out my name, although still asleep. I answered her and she settled down again. Some five minutes later she woke up and said, “I was dreaming you were here, everything was covered in this blue light, so I knew you were about.”
“I think it was just a dream, darling.”
“No, because you were here when I woke up.”
“I think that would disprove your argument, wouldn’t it?”
“I dunno,” she said, “I’m too tired to argue.” She looked at me and said, “I still can’t believe I’m really a girl, I really can’t.”
“It takes more than having a vagina to be a girl, darling.”
“Yeah, I know that, but it like helps, doesn’t it?”
“Of course it does.”
“I means I’ve got to sit to wee an’ things.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about her superficial understanding of being female. However I gave her the benefit of the doubt. She was after all still recovering from a general anaesthetic and a very powerful and emotional experience, not to mention a traumatic one. It was therefore not the time or place to judge her, and in doing so, myself.
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Comments
A sweet episode
except for the cop who even seemed to soften a bit.
grrr.... so what did Danni tell the cop during that hour long interview? How much trouble is Pia in?
Yeah, I think Danni has a bit of learning coming but she'll be in a loving family.
There's a hell of a lot more ...
to it than just 'having to sit to wee,' but she'll learn that in due course.
Strangely, of all the issues affecting my sense of gender identity, my penis is the very last issue. Being celibate, it doesn't factor into how my gender would affect my relationship with anybody else so it comes down basically to convenience and frankly, after seeing some lady's loos, the last thing I'd want to have to do is have to sit to wee in some flooded, stinking, paperless cess-pit.
No thanks, remove my testicles by all means; I can accept the subsequent necessity of HRT, but please, please allow me the dignity of keeping my butt and panties dry!
Good chapter Ang.
Still lovin' it.
Bev.
X
Judge not lest you be judged
Cathy should not be judging Danni or even herself. She has always been over critical of herself, I think. She seems to think she can't measure up. She does so much better than she gives herself credit for. As far as Danni goes, we will just have to wait and see. She will turn out better than we fear.
Much Love,
Valerie R
What good could the police do now ...
Ask any Fireman, Paramedic, or Policeman; things similar to what Pia did do happen. There used to be detailed pictures of self castrations on the internet, though I can not speak to now.
Here in the Colonies, when self dismemberment occurs, I do not know if they give you an innie or just sew it all up. Even if penile tissue is destroyed, I suppose they could use a section of intestine. According to http://pai.co.th/srs-sigmoid-colon/ , such surgery gives one greater depth if 3-4 inches is not sufficient. Some may want that if they wish to be a video sex queen. I am told that intestinal "vaginas" are self lubricating. :)
At age 13 (?) she will surely not have great depth, so may want a remodel later.
All this is vaguely understandable, after both Danielle and (whose the other one), had been through the orphanage mix master. It is hard enough to grow up even with supposedly "normal" parents of opposite gender.
This whole segment has torn at me in a most unkind way and led to much introspection, the sort that requires my putting my head up my arse.
Bike 2231
I have only one thing to say! Where is the picture of the dormouse??
Richard
Dormouse?
Where did ALL the story and comment pictures go? Anyone else or is it just my computer??
Teri Ann
"Reach for the sun."
Dunno
But I've lost them too.
Angharad
Hope they come back
I suspect one of them server type things going on then; the picky links seem to still be in the page code. I'm sorry it's affecting others, but relieved it isn't just my machine, even if it is running Windoze.
Teri Ann
"Reach for the sun."
Local Police still have not
Local Police still have not figured out not to annoy the Door mouse lady?
The social workers sound like they are considering a witch burning.
Silly people.
https://mewswithaview.wordpress.com/
Lovely quick response
from Danni, But really that woman police officer should know better than that, Have they never heard of diversity training in the police force?
Kirri
Sending out cards only five days before Christmas?
Congratulations on being served by the Royal Mail (Do you still call it that?)!
Canada Post/Postes Canada requires about two weeks minimum to get a card to its destination before Christmas. Makes me wish they'd put the crown and Royal Mail back on the sides of their trucks -- maybe your RM's service ethic would rub off on ours, eh?
Merry Christmas from the Great White North!
x
Yours from the Great White North,
Jenny Grier (Mrs.)