I don’t like hospitals, but my doctor warned me that I needed to get my appendix removed before it became an emergency situation. I figured I could handle day surgery or even an overnight stay. My wife dropped me off and went to work, assuring me that she would be back when I woke up. It was kind of nice being pampered a bit. I arrived at 6:00AM as instructed. I was put through the required procedures and asked dozens of questions. Finally, they got to my name.

“Can you tell me your name?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The nurse smiled, “What is your name?”

“John Smythe.”

“You pronounce it ‘Smythe’?”

“Well … yes!”

“OK. What is your date of birth?”

“August 13, 1995.”

“Thank you. The anesthesiologist will be in to talk to you in just a little bit.”

As if on cue, the anesthesiologist walked in the door. “Hello, I’m Dr. Patel. I’ll be your anesthesiologist for your procedure today. As I’m sure you’ve been told, almost any surgery is quite invasive and complex. Your procedure today is no exception. You will be under a few hours, but I will be here watching your vitals and making adjustments to your medications as needed. There should be no problems but, as with any surgery, complications can arise. Just a few of the complications could be adhesions, internal bleeding, infection, and even death. You could die from this surgery.” He wanted to make sure I understood the latter warning. I knew, of course, that without the surgery I could die from sepsis should my appendix burst.

He left, and it was time for the doctor’s turn. He rushed in like a fireman arriving at an inferno. He probably had a tee time. He busily washed his hands and glanced at his clipboard. His warning consisted of, “Ok, you’re ready for this?”

He didn’t wait for me to answer. Someone put a plastic mask on my face and told me to count backward from ten. I got to nine.

It seemed like just a couple of minutes later I woke up with a pain in my crotch. My wife was seated next to my bed. I grunted.

I heard my wife, Allison’s voice, “You’re awake!”

“Allie! Water?”
“Water?” She gave me a glass containing some ice chips. They were the best ice chips I had ever tasted. “Am I going home today?”

“No, Honey. Not today.” She smiled, but it wasn’t her smile. It was a smile she borrowed or rented from someone. Why would she do that?”

“OK, Honey, what is it? Did they find cancer or something?”

“Oh, no, Honey. You’re fine.”

“What is it, then?”

“Nothing. You’re perfectly healthy!”

“You’re worried about something.”

“Honey, we’re having a lot of problems at the office. Nothing my boss can’t handle, and nothing you need to worry about.”

I felt somewhat reassured, but wondered why I had to stay overnight. I didn’t want to stay one minute more than necessary in this sterile prison. ‘I’m kind of sleepy. I’m gonna close my eyes.”

“Good idea, Honey. Rest.”

I closed my eyes and heard someone enter the room. I thought it was a doctor. He said something to my wife, and I was surprised to hear a very angry tone in her reply. They argued back and forth, with him trying to calm my wife but, from the sound of her voice, she was growing angrier by the second. I tried to understand what they were saying, but they were talking fast and in hushed tones.

Then, I heard the doctor say, “These things happen.”

That was when my wife decided she had enough of trying to remain some semblance of calm. She got really loud and I heard them leave the room. I could still faintly hear her yelling in the hallway, but the medication took over, and I drifted off to sleep.

I drifted in and out of sleep that evening and through the night. When I awoke the next morning, my wife said that the doctor and some hospital personnel were going to come to my room for a meeting. I’m pretty slow picking up on things, but by this time I knew something was up. There were about a half dozen people in my room for the meeting.

The hospital administrator began a speech about the number of surgeries that were performed and, despite careful oversight and multiple checks, errors were still a slight possibility.

What it boiled down to is there was a John Smith in the same hospital as I was, and his birthday was the same as mine. My name is John Smythe. I was relieved because obviously, his procedure was not to amputate any limbs or any other drastic surgery. Now I understood why the nurse had asked me, “You pronounce it ‘Smythe’?”

“So,” I inquired, “was John Smith also supposed to have his appendix removed?”

Immediately, I felt the tension level in the room go up from two to ten. One guy, obviously an attorney, spoke up, “No, John Smith was here for gender reassignment surgery.” He stopped talking. Everyone seemed on edge. It was at this point that I started looking for a television camera. I think they were waiting for me to go insane. They seemed amazed at my calm response and my smile.

“So, I got his surgery?”

“Yes.”

“Hmmm. Can I see my new vagina?”

“Actually, we're here with some post-surgery documents we’d like you to sign.”

“I know there’s a lot in those papers, but can you give me the gist?”

“Oh, it’s just legal stuff. Standard.”

“Standard?”

“Absolutely! Standard” (here, he dropped his volume substantially) “in cases like this.”

“I’m sorry. I getting to be hard of hearing. You said ‘standard’, then … what?”

“Standard in cases like this.” He repeated.

“Medical mistakes?”

He conferred quietly with the man next to him. “Yes.”

“I don’t give up my right to sue for damages, do I?”

“No! Of course not!” He was very quick with that answer.

“I think I’ll read them.”

“OK. Take all the time you need. You can be released to go home as soon as you sign.”

“Why can’t I go home before I sign?”

“We really need those papers completed.”

“It sounds as if I’m being held hostage until I sign these papers. Under the circumstances, I think it would be very unwise for me to sign anything until I’ve had my lawyer review it. Also, I think I should view the doctor’s work to see that it’s acceptable. Usually, a patient accepts that surgery was correctly done but, in a case like this, the work can be inspected. I know how a vagina is supposed to look, so I’ll do an inspection. I’ll let my wife have a look, too, and give me her opinion.”

By this time, the people in my room didn’t know what to do. Some appeared baffled, some thought the situation humorous. They exchanged looks, and a nurse said, “Well, y’all clear out. She wants to see her new vagina!” As the room emptied, I asked the nurse to send my wife in. She came in, still with the disgusted look on her face.

I couldn’t understand. “Honey, why the sad face?”

“What do you think? I bring my husband in for minor surgery and they give me back a … not man!”

“Yes, I can see that would be a cause for concern, but think about poor John Smith. He’s gonna spend the rest of his life without an appendix because they took out his appendix for no reason at all except that someone doesn’t know how to read. He’ll probably sue the hospital.”

“He’s gonna sue? We’re gonna sue!”

“We are?”

“Yes. We’re suing because our sex life is over!”

“Wait, Honey, remember when you said you wondered what it would be like …?”

“Hush! Stop right now! Let’s discuss this between the two of us.” She looked closer between my legs. Hmm. Not a bad job. It will be better when the swelling goes down.”

“Let’s try it out when we get home.”

“Hush! I’ll explain later.”

“But we can ….”

“Oh my God, John. Please be quiet!”

I closed my mouth. She had a plan.

“When the doctors or lawyers come in, follow my lead; even better … keep your mouth shut!”

“OK, boss.”

The got me a dirty look. She covered me up and told everyone they could come back in. She addressed them. “So this is irreversible?”

One of the braver doctors spoke up, “Well, not exactly ….”

“His genitalia can be restored good as new?”

“Well ….”

“Why don’t you just tell me, ‘No, he’ll never be the same as before. He’ll never be able to function sexually as a man.’”

“We actually don’t know that.”

“What do you know?”

“Mrs. Smythe, if you’re considering legal action against the doctor or the hospital, we should not discuss this here.”

I was getting antsy. “Can I go home now?”

“No sir … ma’am … I’m sorry….”

“You can call me ‘sir or madam as the case may be’.”

The doctor involuntarily smiled … then quickly wiped the smile away when he saw my wife seething. “You’ve had major surgery and you need complete bed rest for a few days. You can sign yourself out ‘AMA’ (1), but I wouldn’t recommend it. Please stay until we make sure there are no complications.”

(1)AMA – Against Medical Advice

“I’ll stay. How about a rib-eye for dinner?”

“How would you like it cooked?”

“Just warm it a little and drain most of the blood off.”

The doctor and I were probably the only ones in the room who knew we were joking. He realized that he may as well joke because he and the hospital had little left to lose in the situation. This medical mistake was probably thought to be just about the worst that could happen, short of the patient dying. Some would even argue that my case was ‘a fate worse than death’, but I thought it wasn’t so bad since my wife and I hadn’t had sex in months even though we both only twenty-five years old. We married when we were 18, so we must have had the “seven-year itch”. She obviously wanted them to think we had been having wonderful sex every night, and it would take quite a bit of compensation to remedy this grievous medical mistake.

“OK, doctor, are you going to instruct me on caring for my new vagina? Don’t forget, you have to have another female in the room when you’re with a female patient. You wouldn’t want to be accused of touching me inappropriately or molesting me in some way.”

“True.” He turned to one of the nurses, “Judy, could you stay? Everyone else except Mrs. Smythe can leave.”

The doctor instructed me on limiting physical activity, no sex for three months, bathing, and the possibility of infection. He said he would give me some dilators and instructions for using them when I left the hospital. He seemed to enjoy the unusual situation a little, as did the nurse. My wife sat in the corner and enjoyed her seething. I figured I wouldn’t get any help from her when it came to dilation time. When the doctor finished giving me instructions, he asked if I had any questions.

“Yes, doctor, when you say ‘no sex for three months’, I assume you mean ‘no penetration’, correct? What about non-penetration sex?” I could see now, that my wife had gone from ‘seething’ to the next step; whatever the next step is after ‘seething’; maybe ‘superseething’.

“Give it three months anyway.”

“Whatever you say, doctor.”

I turned to my wife and was going to ask if she heard that, but her expression clearly said, “Don’t you say a word!”

The doctor and nurse left. My wife and I were alone. “What do you mean ‘non-penetration sex’. Who do you think is going to do something like that with you?”

“Well, dear, I’ve always been faithful to you. Any kind of sex will be with you!”

“I will not be a party to anything unnatural.”

“Not even if it’s a surprise party?”

“Well, if I didn’t know about the hospital screw-up, it would be a hell of a surprise!”

I know my wife, and I could tell her anger was dissipating, but I couldn’t push it too far. “So, are you gonna help me with the dilators.”

“Yeah, if you have to do it. I’m not gonna abandon you now.”

“You’re wonderful, Honey.”

“I know. Don’t forget to sit down to pee or you’ll make an even bigger mess than you did before.”

“Please, Honey, a man’s gotta stand to pee!”

“Maybe he does, but what’s that got to do with you?”

“Oh. Nothing, I guess.”

“I’ll throw out all your underwear and get some that won’t have an empty pocket in the front. I’ll buy some size 6 to start. You’ll need other clothes, too. Women don’t wear baggy pants like men wear. You’ve always had fat legs for a man.”

“Gee, I’m sorry.”

“That’s a good thing!. Your new pants will look better. You see, a woman wears her pants fitted. You’ll look good in the new clothes I’m going to get you. Possibly, you can wear some of mine at first.”

“That’s the spirit! Thank’s, Honey!”

“Be sure to wipe every time you pee. Your urethra is very much shorter now, and a bladder infection is miserable!”

“Gotcha!”

“Now, as far as legal issues; the hospital will probably make an offer to keep us from suing. If it’s too low, we’ll tell them we need to seek legal advice. As a matter of fact, we’ll see an attorney no matter what they offer. Even if it’s a good offer, we’ll still need someone to read the legal papers. You probably won’t have to go back to work. We can vacation in Hawaii; lay on the beach in our bikinis….”

“Great. I’m glad you’re on board, Honey. Wait … my bikini top will be empty!”

“Not after hormone treatments, and I know a doctor who can do facial feminization.”

“Cool!”

“After all that, you won’t want to go by the name ‘John’ anymore I’m sure.”

“Right. I’ve always liked the name ‘Amie’ … after ‘Allison’, of course!”

“You can have any name you want; as long as it’s reasonable.”

“So you have to think it’s ‘reasonable’? It’s my name!”

“And I’m your husband, so I have the final say!”

“What? I’m the husband ….”

“A husband is usually a man. Since there is no man in this couple, we have to decide who will be husband, and who is wife. I call ‘husband’, so there!”

“But, I’m the m ….”

“It’s gonna take you a while to realize you’re not a man anymore and you never will be. You are my wife. I’m OK with splitting the cleaning half and half. I’ve tasted your cooking, so I’ll do the cooking. You can do the yard and other outside work, but you won’t be called ‘my husband’. I’ll tell you what, I’ll call you my wife, and you call me your wife too.”

“Deal! Wife and wife; wow, we have it all worked out!”

“Yeah. I think the saying is, ‘If someone gives you lemons, throw them back in their face’.”

“Well, not exactly, but I like it! Honey, you seem to have changed your attitude about all this. Why is that?”

“If we’re not mad and upset about this mistake, the hospital is going to try to save money. They’ll try to say in court that this is something we really wanted anyway. You need to be angry too. That’s why I kept telling you to keep your mouth shut!”

“You know, Honey, it’s not fair to other women for you to have all the beauty and the brains!”

“Not fair to other women like you?”

“Exactly! I’m envious.”

“Oh, you’ll be beautiful once the plastic surgeon is done with you. After all, it’s to my advantage for you to be beautiful.”

“Why?”

“I have to look at my wife for a very long time. I hope it’s long, anyway.”

“I love you too, Honey,”

The doctor came back in. “What’s up, Doc? I’m in your capable … I’m in your hands.”

He smiled. “OK, the lawyers and hospital administrators will handle any legal affairs. This should not affect our relationship. Do you want to proceed as if this was the operation you wanted?”

“With the dilators and all that? Yes!”

“Ok, but you still need your appendix removed whenever you’re able.”

“How long.”

“Just a couple of days.”

“OK.”

“Let me show you the dilators.” He proceeded to show me different dilators. It was hard to believe that such things would go inside me, but a vagina can handle a lot more than a rectum. The artificial vagina would tend to “heal”, or close up. The dilators would keep that from happening.

The next few days were uneventful. My husba … I mean my wife stayed with me quite a bit. She would leave during the day to go shopping. She would come back telling me about the clothing and accessories that she bought for me, but she didn’t bring any of them up to the room. After a couple of days, they removed my appendix. A couple of more days and I was released. I said goodbye to my appendix, my penis, and my testicles, and went home with my new vagina. Thankfully, my wife let me go home with the clothes I wore to the hospital.

Finding the clitoris is not difficult if it’s your own clitoris. It was very sensitive, but the doctor told me it would get more sensitive over time. I invited my wife to touch it, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. I had no doubt she would come around.

She had bought me tons of clothes, but I told her I was not going out until I got facial surgery. She asked me to let her do makeup on me, so I agreed. It was a miracle! When she finished, a nice looking girl with very short hair looked back at me from the mirror. I told her I still wanted surgery. We would be able to afford it easily when the hospital paid up for our “pain and suffering”. We had finally agreed on a figure and even though the lawyer took more than he earned for just reading, we had enough money so that neither of us had to work.

I took hormones faithfully and discovered what it was like to have a woman’s sex drive. It made me realize why men stay so horny and sometimes get into trouble trying to “get some”. A man’s normal testosterone level is 15 to 20 times that of a woman’s. It takes some “priming” to get a woman’s level up enough for her to desire relations. It’s more complex than just that, of course. There are a lot of emotional factors tied to a woman’s sex drive, where most men’s drive stands ready, willing, and able; in some cases overriding logic and common sense.

My wife continued to be reluctant to have sexual relations. It was always too late, she was tired, or some other factor. A man would say ‘some other excuse’, but I could see from the other point of view now, and realized how she felt. But one night, I got in bed earlier than she did and did some self-exploration. Using my fingers, I found my clitoris and began to give it a massage. A man uses his whole hand to masturbate, but a woman can do a great job with only two fingers. I kept massaging and got myself to a point where I wanted sex. I figured that was as far as I would get by myself.

While I was exploring my nether region, my wife came into the bedroom to go to bed. She said her back was hurting, and I saw my chance. I offered to massage her back and she accepted. I got some lotion and began on her lower back. I worked my way lower still and was to a point where, if I were a man, I probably could have gone ahead and penetrated. Instead, I found her clitoris and continue my work there. She pretended to be asleep, but that was just so she didn’t feel like she had to object to these “unnatural” advances by another woman. As I massaged, she gave up on her “sleeping” ruse and began to moan.

“Oh, Honey.”

“You can call me by my name.”

“Amie,” she whispered. Then tears began to flow. I lay on her and kissed the tears away.

“It’s OK, Allie.”

“Oh, Amie, my wife. Make love to me!”

I lay down beside her and went to work on her in earnest. I massaged her clitoris with one hand and inserted two fingers with the other. She was still lying on her stomach, but now she turned over with her legs spread. I abandoned the work with my hands and put my head down and began a tongue massage. Allie had given up her pretense of reluctance. She was ready for love. We were ready for love. I had my head between her legs with the rest of my body up around her shoulders. My arms were wrapped around her legs as I tasted the wonderful juice of my lover. I thanked God for a wonderful, loving woman who could love me. I felt her pulling my legs and I allowed myself to be put into a “69” position. She started to work on me with her tongue. She found my clitoris with no trouble, and I felt something I had never felt as a man. I felt love and sex combined. Now, tears were flowing from my eyes! My tears flowed and combined with her juice. To say I was in heaven, would be an understatement! Our climax cannot be described, and we were quite expressive about our feelings. It’s a good thing we didn’t live in an apartment. After the climax, I turned around in the bed and we cuddled.

We were silent for a while. Finally, she spoke. “Amie, I love you so much more than I ever loved my husband.”

“I’m happier than I have ever been in my life. We should give the lawsuit money back, right Allie?”

“Yeah, let’s split it and you can give back your half.”

“If I had to give it back to stay like this, I would do it.”

“Amie, I’m sorry I acted like I didn’t want to have sex. It was difficult for me.”

“I know, Honey.” As I spoke, I began to massage her again. After a few minutes of that, we were ready to go again. That night, for the first time ever I experienced something that men miss out on their whole lives: multiple orgasms!. We found that night, for us, three was a charm, we defined “satiety”, and we became as close to “one” as any two people could ever be.

“I love you so much, Amie, and it took me a long time to realize that God gave you to me to be my beautiful wife.”

“And it’s all because of a mistake.”

Allie smiled. “These things happen.”

The End

The beginning for Amie and Allie.