Chapter 30 - A second appointment

The last few days of January and the beginning of February are a bleak period at the best of times. The weather is often cold and miserable and the hours of daylight are short. The prospect of spring still seems some time away. It is a time when memories of the Christmas and New Year celebrations begin to fade, but the expenditure incurred during the process has not been settled. But for my flat mate the spring of 2007 was going to be nothing to look forward to. No matter how much she tried to disguise the fact and act as if she didn’t care, Suzanne was depressed about her grim prospects and the fact that she now had to rely upon me for so many everyday tasks that she would have been able to manage on her own only a few weeks beforehand. For my part, I often didn’t know what to say or do to try and make things any easier for her, and was reminded of how helpless my Dad had seemed when they both knew that Mum was dying.

At least now that I was living as Clare I could show my emotions in a way that would not have been ’permissible’ for Tom to do. There were a few occasions when we simply hugged one another and cried. Suzanne even thanked me after the first time this happened, saying that the release of pent up emotion had made her feel better. Thereafter our relationship seemed to enter a new phase. Whereas up to that point she had been the dominant personality, deciding what we would do, I found myself imperceptibly taking over the role of the ‘parent’. We became much closer both physically and emotionally, rather like a mother looking after her sick child. I would often sit next to her stroking her hair and would always make a point of kissing her good night or when I left to go to work.

There was also the matter of Andy which I still had to come to terms with in my own mind but didn’t feel that I wanted to discuss it with anyone else. I had no second thoughts or regrets about what I’d said to him or how I'd walked away. Yet I also felt sad because I believed him when he said that he really liked me. But that was no good to him or me if he was unable to come to terms with my transgendered status. Would this always happen to me, every time I found somebody that I really liked? I realised that no matter how far I took my change of gender I would never be a woman in the true physical sense, but I had hoped that I might one day be accepted into the gender role which I now realised had always been occupied by my mind.

The only person of my acquaintance who remained at all cheerful during this time was Debbie, who was clearly enjoying her social life, and so she was a welcome dinner guest a couple of evenings each week who served to cheer up both Suzanne and myself. Dad continued to do well and so my internet contacts became less frequent, and our conversations less prolonged. On those occasions when I did ring I often found myself rather chatting with Vera, who seemed perfectly happy to accept me as a surrogate step daughter.

On Wednesday of that week I received a letter from the Charing Cross Gender Identity Clinic offering me an appointment, together with a patient information leaflet describing their services and what I could expect. I was a little disappointed that it was not going to be until the third week of February before they could see me, and the leaflet made it clear that I shouldn’t expect any decision or prescription after the first appointment. I suppose I was relieved that ‘things’ were at last beginning to move in the right direction, albeit rather slowly. By that time I would be nearly twenty-one and I felt that my youth was beginning to slip away from me. I’d also hoped that I’d be able to give Dad some concrete information about a timetable for my transition when he came up to visit me the following week, but instead I would have to be satisfied with merely telling him about my forthcoming appointment.

However, the following day I was busy at work when an unknown caller rang my mobile number. I fished it out of my handbag to answer.

‘Hello?’ I answered, without identifying myself.

‘Good morning, may I speak to Clare Simpson please?’

‘This is Clare Simpson speaking.’

‘Hello Ms. Simpson this is the Coordinator’s Office at the Gender Identity Clinic. I note you are scheduled to see Dr. Roberts on the 20th of this month. We have just had a last minute cancellation, would it be possible for you to come in tomorrow morning at 11.00 am instead? It will be a one-hour appointment.’

‘Oh,’ I said, both pleased and surprised by the offer. ‘I hope so, but I’d just like to go away and check with my manager and ring you back in ten minutes if I may?’

‘Alright, but please don’t leave it any longer or I’ll have to offer the appointment to another patient.’

I put down my phone and went straight over to Karen’s desk.

‘Karen, may I have a quick personal chat with you please?’

We went into the meeting room together and I closed the door.

‘Karen, I’ve just been given a really important hospital appointment at 11 o’clock tomorrow morning, but I’ve already had my day off this week, and I won’t be able to swap for next Monday as my Dad is coming up to town. Is there any chance that I can make up the time later?’

She could see from my manner and tone of voice that this was important to me.

‘Of course, if it is urgent you must go, Clare, but I trust there is nothing seriously wrong?’

There was no longer any point in keeping my intentions secret from her, especially as I might need her co-operation at a later date as well.

‘It is not serious in a medical sense, but it is really important to me. I’ve been offered a cancelled appointment at the Gender Identity Clinic and hope to begin my permanent transition to Clare as soon as possible. If I don’t go tomorrow, I’ll have to wait several weeks before I get another appointment.’

‘Does that mean you will be having a sex-change operation?’

‘It could do, but that would be some time away. It is more about helping me to live successfully as a woman and obtaining the female hormones that will prevent me from turning into a man.’

Karen was clearly surprised by the news, but not horrified or appalled.

‘In that case of course you must go and do whatever you need to.’

‘What about making up the hours that I miss?’

‘If you have the time you could call in at the office after your appointment to make up some of the hours and also repay us gradually over the next week. But don’t worry! I’ll cover for you if anyone wants to know where you are or what you are doing.’

‘Thanks so much Karen,’ I said excitedly. ‘I promise to make up the time as soon as I can.

I went back to my desk and proceeded to ring the clinic and confirm my attendance the next day. I was so excited by the prospect that there was no way I could keep my news a secret from Debbie and Helen who were also both in the office. Thus the rest of the morning was spent answering questions from all three of my colleagues about the clinic, about the process of gender transition and my hopes and ambitions to get a Gender Recognition Certificate making me legally a woman as soon I had been living as Clare for two years. I would then be able to get a new birth certificate as a female as well.

I also rang Suzanne at lunch time to tell her the good news.

‘That’s great Clare; I’m really pleased for you, and hope everything goes well for you tomorrow. I should like to see things settled for you before I die.’

As for my previous appointment with Dr. Underwood at Southall, I dressed myself with particular care and discretion the next morning, wearing a smart dark red skirt suit, and a pink blouse. As the weather was forecast to be cold and wet I also wore the winter coat that Suzanne had given to me and long medium heeled boots. I put on just enough makeup and jewelry to show that I’d gone to the trouble to look nice, but without going over the top. In fact I did everything I could to convey the impression of being an intelligent, thoughtful and attractive young lady, who was completely comfortable in her newly chosen gender.

‘What do you think?’ I asked Suzanne as I was about to leave.’

‘You look lovely my dear. If it was up to me, I’d let you have the hormones straight away and I’d sign you up for a boob job and the other operation next week.’

‘If only it were that easy,’ I said laughing, as I left the flat and then made my way to the underground station.

The clinic was in the Fulham Road, not far from Hammersmith underground station and so was a relatively straightforward journey for me. I arrived with plenty of time to spare, and was forced to do some window shopping to kill some time, although my mind was rather pre-occupied with my forthcoming appointment. When I did eventually arrive the receptionist was polite and friendly, making me feel at home as I nervously waited for my appointment. I’m sure she’d seen it all before. At last I was called in to see Dr. Roberts.

‘Good morning, Miss Simpson, please come in and sit down.’

He was in his late forties, quite distinguished looking and beginning to go grey. We shook hands and I was glad that I was wearing a fairly subdued colour of nail varnish which matched my suit.

‘Thank you Doctor, and please call me Clare.’

He smiled but didn’t return the same invitation to me. I guess they like to preserve some level of formality between Doctor and Patient.

‘Alright, Clare, I’ve read the detailed reports from both your GP and Dr. Underwood, but I should now like to hear from you. I should like you to regard today’s appointment not as an ‘interview’ or a ‘test’ but rather as an opportunity for you to talk with a sympathetic clinician about your experiences and needs to help us decide how best to move forward.’

‘I’m not sure what else I can tell you other than that I have never felt comfortable in the male gender, although for most of my childhood years I didn’t really know why. However, ever since I’ve been living as Clare, I’ve felt as though it was who I was meant to be. I felt more comfortable and at ease with myself. The more time that I spend living as a woman, the more sure I am that it is right for me. As to my needs, I don’t think I could ever now go back to my previous life, and I hope you will be able to help me live successfully as a woman.’

‘Both of the reports on you have commented about how well you appear to have fitted in to the female gender role already.’

‘Thank you Doctor,’ I said blushing slightly, ‘but I feel as if I’ve barely made a start on my journey to become a woman. I should really like to begin taking female hormones so that can I feel more like a woman and in future won’t have to rely on this padding all the time. Eventually I want to be able to be legally recognized as a woman, and perhaps one day to have a full physical relationship with a man.’

‘The clinic does offer hormone therapy funded by the National Health Service, but we will first need to satisfy ourselves regarding a number of questions to make sure that it is the right treatment both mentally and physically for you. Also you will need to have completed at least two of these one hour Assessment interviews before we consider it.’

‘Alright, I’ll do my best to answer your questions as fully and as honestly as I’m able.

‘I’ll be your lead clinician who will act as your primary carer throughout the time that you use our services, although I may also refer you to other specialist colleagues such as a psychiatrist, endocrinologist or speech therapist. In due course, if all goes well, I would also be in a position to carry out an assessment of you for a Gender Recognition Panel. Unfortunately the NHS does not provide for these reports so you will need to enter into a private arrangement but you will need to have been living as a woman for nearly two years before we need to worry about that.’

I nodded in acknowledgment and he continued to talk.

‘We may ultimately refer you for surgery to remove your penis and create a vagina and possibly you may also require breast augmentation, but we will only consider this after you have been on hormone therapy for some time. You should also realise that there is a waiting list of patients requiring such operations.’

‘Yes I understand Doctor, I have read the notes for patients.’

‘Good, so now let us begin.’

The next fifty minutes or so were spent going over much of the same ground as Dr. Underwood, although in more detail. He spent some time asking about my childhood and my relationship with my parents. I kept thinking to myself that I’d said all this before, although not, of course, to Dr Roberts. His questioning was quite probing but not aggressive. I did my utmost to remain calm, cheerful and thoughtful, when answering his questions although all the time I was feeling pretty nervous. I explained about my mother’s death and was pleased to be able to say that I’d recently visited Dad as Clare, and that he would be visiting me the following week. This seemed to go down quite well with him. I spoke about my work and the fact that my colleagues were now very happy to work with me as Clare rather than Tom. This also seemed to count in my favour. I went on to explain about my relationship with Suzanne and how I’d come to be living as woman in her flat, although I said nothing about who the original Clare Simpson had been. He didn’t ask about my new name, but just accepted that I would wish to change it as I changed my gender.

During the course of our discussion I observed that I seemed to have more friends and a more interesting life as Clare than ever I’d had as Tom. This led him to ask about boyfriends. I explained that I considered myself to be a heterosexual woman and that I’d once gone out for a drink with a guy, but I had been completely open about my physical status, and so it had come to nothing. He asked me what I thought about that, and I said truthfully that I was a little sad but accepted that it would be one factor that I would have to bear in mind with my transgendered status. He also wanted to know whether I’d so far experienced any other difficulties with living as a woman, and I assured him that I had not. I’d never been challenged or subjected to abuse or harassment. In fact, if anything people had been more polite and friendly to me since I’d started dressing as Clare.

‘Yes I can see for myself that you will have relatively few problems with your appearance and in your general presentation as a female. You are more fortunate in this respect than many of our patients.’

‘Thank you doctor,’ I said taking it as a compliment rather than an observation.

He smiled, then finished then put down his pen and note book .

‘Alright then Clare, I think that will probably be enough for today,

I felt quite relieved.

‘I think we have made good progress but I should like to see you again before we discuss any courses of action.’

I’d realised that this was the probable outcome of today’s meeting, although I’d half hoped that they might take on look at me and abandon all their usual procedures and go ahead and prescribe the oestrogen.

‘Yes, of course Doctor,’ I said trying not to sound disappointed.

‘So when shall we meet again?’ he said, consulting his desk diary.

‘As soon as possible, please,’ I replied.

He smiled.

‘I can offer you an appointment at the same time three weeks from today?’

I accepted and he made a note in his diary, but he could see from my reaction that I was a little disappointed by the delay.

‘If you like I’ll also ask my secretary to get in touch with you should there are any other cancellations.’

‘Yes please. I’m sure I could arrange to come in any time apart from next Monday when my father is coming to see me for the day.’

I thanked him again, and I left the office feeling that, all told, things hadn’t gone too badly for me.

I hurried back to work and arrived by 1.00pm so that I’d made up most of my hours by the time I eventually made my way home. Inevitably, though I had to recount the events of the morning to my three colleagues, and also Suzanne when she phoned in to find out how I’d got on.

‘So it sounds as if Clare is now here to stay,’ said Helen.

‘Absolutely, I would rather kill myself than ever go back to living as Tom,’ I replied.

I noticed that Karen and Helen exchanged significant glances with one another, but they didn’t say anything. Debbie didn’t seem at all surprised by my reaction.

‘I don’t think that that will prove to be necessary, young lady,’ she said.