Bridges 48

*Before….

I’m looking at my phone and trying to decide if I should say anything when I hear her yawn on the other side of the line and hear this happy, and amazing make my heart ache.

“Good morning beautiful, how’d you sleep?”

My wife, she stayed on the line with me all night on purpose…I pull her pillow into my arms and I hug it hard.

“I slept okay but this…It’s a great morning.”

“Mmm…good, I have to preggers pee so I’ll talk to you later hon?”

(Happy-sniffle.) “Yeah okay, I love you.”

“Love you too Mommy.”

I hear her lips touch her phone before hanging up and I’m sitting there hugging her pillow happy crying and even shaking a little too.

*And Now…

It’s still pretty early but this was such a seriously good thing between Cass and I that I fall back down and hold the pillow and breathe in her smell as much as I can and then it goes from that and how amazing this was to me thinking about Cass.

Then thinking about Cass and I and her coming home and then it gets a little bit more intense as it drifts into the whole realm of daydream or morning dream meets fantasy and it’s only a matter of minutes before I’ve reached into our nightstand for one of our bed-friends and some lube and I indulge myself in ways that really hit me deeply.

It’s a strange and odd thing to say but having that kind of self-care like any other woman and having those feelings all in the right place…well it’s pretty powerful in its own right.

And yeah when you’re trans even something like this is something that’s a big deal in feeling right and like everything is finally in the right place.

Don’t get me wrong, I have liked all the other sex and intimate times I had before but a lot of that really was making do, trying to adjust and find some measure of balance in the whole need for release and sexuality stuff.

Post op, on the other side of things it’s actually changed the way I feel about sex a lot.

But regardless of that it was a great way to top off this whole amazing morning experience.

Hell if I was bolder than I am I might have tried to film it for Cass. (Blush.)

Though where she’s RCMP and the higher ups or cyber whatever might have access to her phone and stuff for like confidentiality reasons or security checks that might not be a great idea.

But I sort of like having the confidence to even come up with the thought in my head.

It’s seriously nice to have these kinds of feelings about someone.

Because after so long when you’re alone it sort of becomes this going through the motions thing and you sort of kind of hit this wall after you’re along long enough, after you’ve been on hormones long enough.

And I’m not a porn person or ever really was one.

So without like someone to have my emotions to synch with, it just sort of fizzled.

And honestly that really is worse in pre-op.

You hit that wall and part of you still want’s release but there’s zero drive, there’s the hormones sort of holding you back and then there’s the physical parts of things not working and it just is about the need for connection, connection that some of us don’t get.

I think that’s why you see so many pre-op folks end up in bad relationships after they’ve started transition. It’s the need for connection even if it’s bad for us.

Post-op it’s different, I mean even outside of a relationship it’s different because you’re post-op and you can do things that you never could…right things, right feeling things and that really helps the fantasy life able to be there.

I’m not like speaking for everyone of course and there’s a lot of trans folks that can never get the op done. But from my experiences so far and this is just for me it’s a whole new world.

I do a quickie shower just to get the sex off of me and I get ready for my morning run. Half a glass of orange juice and a mini-yogurt and then my multi-vitamins, hormones, meds and a calcium chew I head out with my pack stuffed with my running supplies.

I do try and get that stuff into me before I run actually because it all gets a boost from my running and getting my metabolism kick started for the day and I honestly think that my run endorphins dovetail nicely with my meds and my hormones.

I have my splash pants and jackets on and I head out into the morning air and it’s done being miserable out and it’s past even being foggy but it’s firmly in the whole mostly slush thing.

That’s the thing about running, because sometimes when you’re ready for it even when it’s bad it’s good. I’m splashing in the slush as I run and it’s getting on me and it’s chill but I’m wearing warm stuff under it all and it’s harder going but at the same time it’s good too.

The weather makes me feel my leg though all the more and even that’s good. It lets me know I’m up and mobile and that as much as it hurts I can do this.

God it’s nice to have this feeling.

The top of the hill feels especially good to get to this morning. My bottle of water and granola bar feel like a victory dance and then it’s back and all the way to the garage and a stop for my coffee there and talking to the regulars there and a pee break and then it’s back home.

I’m feeling it a little more able this morning so I step up my tempo and really put a much harder pace on all the way home and I’m panting and walking it off in a cool down and using that to wipe and clean off my car and then shovel or rather push the few inches of snow slush off my walk and steps with the shovel before I head inside and put the coffee on and put my run things that need to go in the wash into the was with some other things that won’t get hurt by the slush.

Then it’s showering and then getting dressed and ready for work at the hospital and taking my books and notes with me too and I stop long enough for me to watch the morning news a little while eating a slice of multi-grain bread with some cream cheese on it and a scrambled egg.

The drive in wasn’t too bad except for the vast number of cars already in parking that I drive past and it looks like we’re going to be busy already.

It’s a warn wet winter this year and that means it’s still cold enough to be winter but it’s also damp, and the kind of weather that just loves colds and flu and all those other lovelies.

And I’m back into the triage department again.

That’s good though it’s getting my diagnosis chops back into practice and honestly they need that since it’s been that long and we see a lot of different things here that we do over in Afghanistan.

And I end up playing miss translator too as we not only get in some families that are in the waiting room that speak English but it’s their second language and they speak Arabic as their main language being from Iran.

And it’s the grandfather who’s having chest pains and the relief on their faces is palatable as I get assigned to go with them. Do we have some people that speak Arabic here other than me? Well there’s a few but they’re all in other departments and I can be spared as I’m still technically doing reorientation.

He’s right on the edge of pneumonia, and that’s a thing here. A lot of folks that grew up in other climates sometimes get hit with the weather here being so damp or humid and they’re not used to it, especially with the older folks who just have a harder time adjusting than the younger folks.

I still get a good deal of looks from some of the staff since I’m very fluent. You get that way talking to villagers or going in doing a clinic or being at the base clinic.

Though I do have to dodge the questions about my spouse when they approvingly find out that I’m married. Don’t get me wrong there’s some folks that are cool with lesbian relationships and couples but the grandfather looks very traditional and it takes a few deft changes of subject and then talking about his family and how they’re finding Bridgeview.

That starts the complaints. (Grins)

That’s sort of the thing about being fluent, when they think that they can talk to you they will and if it’s in their language they’ll tell you stuff that they’d never think of saying in English.

And a lot of it’s valid gripes with the taxes and the roads. Our roads are very much the victim of the logging trucks and they do a lot of damage that is very, very backlogged in repairs.

Then it’s some of the racist stuff in town and that’s from some of the same crowd that I’ve had to deal with. Oh it’s that whole thing that if you’re brown you’re a Paki.

Never mind that geographically they’re way the hell off.

Then we’re talking about food.

They have a take-out in one of the utility mini-malls down in the industrial park. And they make fresh lavash bread and something that I had over in Afghanistan that I liked and recognized that I didn’t know was from there called Chicken-tah-chin which is actually a large meatloaf sized rice cake that’s kind of like paella with the crispy rice and things.

It actually sounds pretty interesting and that they serve some of their native fare and from what they’re telling me that I didn’t know that there’s a fair middle eastern and Asian immigrant population starting up here in town with the pulp mills in the area and some of the fishing and the fish producers which is why they put their play in the industrial park.

Yeah that won’t make the bigots happy at all.

And Canada has no shortage of bigots and racists; we’re just a lot quieter about that stuff internationally.

All in all they were happy and they thanked the staff on their way out and I got a paper menu from them that the grandfather just happened to have a bunch of. I might actually go there after work and get some take out.

As much as I am super glad to be home and out of things right now it sort of felt good and familiar in a strange sort of way to be talking Arabic again while taking care of people.

It’s a much smother morning though all in all and I actually end up talking with Tina again at break while we’re having doughnuts from one of the local places and one of the doctors brought them in hot and fresh for us and some other places as she came in to do rounds up on the nursing floors.

Mmm… soft, soft light and airy yeast raised bun doughnut with cinnamon and sugar and filled with actual apple jelly.

We talk about stuff so far on shift sort of commiserating about patients and things that’s happened. We do that a lot, gripe and complain. We do it out of sight and earshot about patients that drive us loopy but we do that with some of the doctors and the administration too.

Honestly though the worse part of the hospital is a tie between the day surgery crews because they’re literally the popular kids and clique here or in most hospitals and then there’s the specialists.

Specialists are a pain in the ass because they’re here and gone, they think they’re better than the house staff a lot of the time and even the good ones are abysmal with stuff like paperwork.

I do gush about Cass though and the call that lasted all night and the morning little stuff that she said and how that feels and I don’t hide the fact that I’m trans or that Cass and I are wife and wife and Tina’s good with it.

Actually she says that she hopes her daughter Nadine actually finds a nice girl sometime and I get this rant about how much she hates her daughter’s teenaged girlfriends and the super fourteen year old lesbian hormones and just how everything is just sooo dramatic and screaming when she’s not trying to keep each other out of their pants.

It’s funny and it’s not even with gay and lesbian and bi kids underage sex is still pretty serious stuff.

I grab my things and head back to triage and I look at the chart and then at the inpatient sheet for the next patient and I double check and then slip out to see if it’s true.

Oh damn, My Ex is there in the waiting room for outpatients waiting to be seen.