The Blue Tit.
by
Angharad.
The bird flew to the feeder from the hedge nearby, it took a single piece of sunflower heart and flitted back to the hedgerow. The watcher recorded the behaviour, timing it and noting each on a pad. It was different from the goldfinches which gobbled down the seeds for a minute or two and then left, usually after squabbling with another bird, sparrows, house sparrows that is, did the same. The robin, its orangey-red breast looked very colourful in the morning sun, acted like the blue tit, in and out, sometimes half a dozen times before it flew off. It preferred the sunflower hearts to the seed mixture, as did the blue tit and the goldfinches but the sparrows usually went more for the seed mixture. It was all down on the pad the recorder glad she had something to do instead of reading or watching television, those things were sort of dead but watching the birds was different, they were alive and unpredictable.

"Jenny is here," called her mother, indicating that she'd have to stop her recording to allow the physiotherapist to massage and exercise her damaged legs and back. She was almost used to the idea that she'd never walk again, let alone dance or do gymnastics, except in her dreams. She could hardly feel her legs even when Jenny did awful things to them trying to stimulate muscles or nerves. She accepted it, it was now part of life.

Jenny feigned interest in her bird project looking at the pad before suggesting they got started on her hour of torture, however, she still told her that she was glad to see her doing something with her time that made her think a little. The hour passed and they were both looking a bit pink and feeling warm. "I think your muscle tone is slightly improved."

"Oh yeah, you should see when they go into spasm, really spectacular," offered her patient.

"Oh," offered Jenny, "that's part of the nerve problem, does it happen often?"

"It's even less predictable than my blue tit visits, to the bird feeder."

"Are they unpredictable then? "

"Blue tits or spasms?" asked her patient.

"Both, but I was meaning the blue tit."

"Yes, since the sparrow hawk got its partner, yes."

"Wow, you get sparrow hawks here?" Jenny looked out of the window regarding the garden with its continuous hedgerow. "It's quite a big garden, isn't it?"

"Just under a quarter of an acre," replied the mother coming to see how things were going and to ask if Jenny wanted a drink or use the loo. She always refused both.

"See you on Thursday, byeee," called the young blond-headed physio, though her dark eyebrows showed her hair colour wasn't natural. When the most exciting thing in your life is watching blue tits, you tend to pay more attention to any novelty such as visitors, even ones who seem hell-bent on pulling your legs off.

Sophie went back to watching her birds, "Mummy, can we put some seed out, it's looking nearly empty again."

"I'm trying to get your lunch," was called back. Sophie glanced at her watch, a nice gold plated one with a bracelet in gold and silver stripes, her father had given it to her for her birthday two months ago, which was just after she came out of hospital. She'd been there for three months, concrete tends to damage bones when you land on it from thirty feet. It broke two vertebrae and damaged the spinal cord inside them. She was intent on damaging more than her back when she stepped into space but she tried not to think about it if she could help it.

"Don't forget to take your laxative, or I'll have to do a suppository tonight," cautioned her mother bringing in the sandwich and the dish of fruit salad. D'you want tea or a cold drink? Don't forget we have to see Dr Peters this afternoon."

"Oh great, muttered Sophie. Emily Peters was a paediatric psychologist. Sophie was thirteen, still a child in the eyes of the law and her parents. Things were very different since 'the accident' as everyone called it, except Sophie who knew it was deliberate, the only accidental part was it didn't kill her. She tried not to think about it while she ate her sandwich and swallowed her senna tablet. This wasn't how she thought things were going to be but she had promised both Emily and her mother she wouldn't try it again - jumping out of a window, to start with, it's difficult to get upstairs in a wheelchair. She shrugged to herself and wished her mother would let her have crisps but her mother wouldn't let junk food inside the house. It was the one treat she had when she went out with her dad, which wasn't very often. He was a sports freak and hated what she'd done to herself and the reminder when he pushed the chair outside. They both hated the looks of sympathy they got from bystanders, so until she was a bit stronger or they gave her a self-powered chair, she didn't go out too often.

It was a performance getting her in the car, the transfer from the chair to the front passenger seat was a nuisance and her mother fussed rather than shoved her in as her dad did. Mummy was worried about catching her legs but Sophie protested, "So what, I can't feel them anyway," but her mother was correct, any injury to her legs as a paraplegic could be difficult to heal.

Tomorrow, they'd have to come out in the bloody car again to see a different physiotherapist at the clinic's gym. That was Malcolm or Malc, as she called him, he was, in her estimation quite buff and she could see the dark hair on his chest poking up just at the bottom of the neck of his polo shirt. He was trying to build up her upper body strength so she could use the wheelchair more herself outdoors or to improve transfers using elbow crutches, which she hated.

"So how are you feeling today, Sophie?" asked Emily, she always asked the same thing as soon as Sophie entered her consulting room.

"A bit tired," sighed Sophie.

"Oh, why's that?"

"I had double games this morning and forgot my kit and had to run home for it and my mother was out, so I had to run back to school as well."

"Oh, right," said Emily rolling her eyes. "It's my job to torment you not the other way round, Soph."

"That's what Jenny and Malc both say, they're my physio-terrorists."

"I thought it was the job of all health professionals to make being a patient so uncomfortable they get better, just to escape treatment."

They both grinned at this and Sophie nodded and rolled her eyes in agreement, then they got down to business. After asking about her physical problems and any pain, she began to probe about Sophie's psychological state. "So is your relationship with your dad any better?"

"It's okay, he still feels guilty but then, so does Mum."

"Because..."

"They didn't believe I wanted to be a girl, they seemed to think I was some of sort of a fairy who'd eventually grow out of it if they ignored it. Like I told you before, they didn't listen to me about being bullied at school so I stopped showing them the bruises. I wanted out and I got out, I just didn't bargain on this fucking wheelchair."

"But they're reconciled to you being a girl, now?"

"Only because you told them they had to. They tolerate me as a girl because they have to, in case I succeed next time."

"I thought we'd agreed, there wouldn't be a next time if you were able to be a girl."

"Yeah, some girl I am, in this bloody thing," Sophie rapped her hand against the chair.

"It could be worse," said Emily.

"Yeah, how?"

"You could still be a boy in a wheelchair."

Sophie looked down at her legs, she was wearing girl's jeans and Ugg boots to try and keep her feet and legs warm. "Yeah okay, I'll give you that one."

"Did you do your own makeup?"

"Yeah, watched some more on Youtube," Sophie blushed, but she was doing it herself even though neither of her parents approved of it, but again Emily had got them to allow it. "What about 'mones, when can I take those?"

"You realise that oestrogens increase the risk of thrombosis, especially in the legs..."

"You mean especially in ones that don't work, like mine?"

"When do you see your doctor again, your GP?"

"Why? I don't think he's very interested in trans kids anyway, especially broken ones."

Emily consulted her notes, "It's Dr Wilson, isn't it?"

"When he's there, why?"

"Did you know he did an attachment to the Tavistock Clinic?"

"Really? He never said anything to me about that, he just leaves the gender stuff to you."

I'll ask him to come and see you and speak to your parents, he's really quite supportive of gender different kids."

"Coulda fooled me," Sophie looked doubtfully at Emily.

"I think he may realise there's a bit of difficulty with your parents and I think he may be pussyfooting a bit not to make things worse."

"Yeah, tell him to see me, I'll tell him what's what."

"Just keep it low key for the moment, Soph, the object of the exercise is to get them used to having a daughter and then to being proud of having a daughter. Remember, they're suffering as well as you..."

"Yeah, me trying to kill myself embarrassed them."

"It may well have done, but it also frightened and shocked them for all sorts of reasons and while I'm trying to help you with dealing with your lost mobility as well as your gender situation, your mum and dad are trying to deal with their loss of a son. It's a very complex situation for all of you."

"If only I'd landed on my head, this would all be over."

"I'm glad you didn't, Sophie, you make a very pretty young woman."

Sophie blushed, "With the ugly body."

"There are lots of women who hate their bodies, advertising encourages it."

"Not as much as I hate mine, I loathed it before it was broken, now I absolutely hate it. Who will want me as a girl with a boy's broken body?" Tears ran down her face. "I wish I was dead."

"Come on, Soph, you're better than that, you're living as a girl, they can't take that away from you, who knows what the future holds and lots of women worry about relationships as do lots of young men. It's one of the major aspects of life which is challenging, sometimes daunting and painful but also very rewarding. You are thirteen, so you still have plenty of time to make friends and possibly lovers too. It won't be easy, but it never is, so just believe in yourself and keep an open mind because that way you may just be pleasantly surprised, whereas if you go back into yourself, you pretty well guarantee you won't."

"Okay, I'll try."

"Good girl, just keep believing in yourself as worthy of being happy and having friends and lovers, they'll come if you let them - promise."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I do."

"Okay, I'll keep a diary of how often I have sex." At this Emily burst out laughing and Sophie blushed but kept a straight face.

"Careful, girl," if we laugh any louder they'll think you enjoy coming to see me."

"Can't have that can we?" Said Sophie frowning. "Same time next week."

"Unless you get a better offer," said Emily, patting Sophie's hand and winking.

Sophie pulled out her mobile phone and said as she tapped the screen, "I'll put him off for an hour or two, it'll make him appreciate me even more." Then she smirked and Emily opened the door for her as she rolled her wheelchair out to the waiting room where her mother was waiting.

"Emily says we have to get some condoms on the way home just in case, Mum," called Sophie so the whole waiting room heard it and she grinned when she saw how her mother squirmed.

"Hoy," hissed Emily, "any more trouble from you and I'll let your tyres down."

"Four out of ten for observation, Em, they're solid ones, see you next week." Emily watched as Sophie and her mother went through the doorway towards the car park and she hoped that this one tormented soul might finally find some happiness in her life.

The End.