A Tale Of Two Cities
We woke up fairly early, promising to be “on the road” for 0830. We were still munching breakfast and chatting then. Caroline had prepared a “German breakfast”, and got all the names right – I think, it was early for me. She is REALLY spoiling me – and I’m not complaining! We hit the road a little early – 0850 – and we were refuelling at Royston Tesco at 0900. There was an Arriva Wright bodied single on a 331 to Hertford, which seems to form an “A10 corridor” group of routes – the 310 does Waltham Cross (not Enfield any more) to Hertford, then the 331, then the 26 of Stagecoach works from Royston to Cambridge. The appointment was not till 1130, so we had plenty time to get through all the traffic snarl-ups… with the Ford Ka…… except that there weren’t any. Sarah & Sylvia got caught in these big time yesterday, and as I was reading it out, the Ka started swerving to the right… but very quickly rectified, before we hit the crash barrier! Oops… but anyway, this was once we’d got to the M25. By this point we went via A505, M11, M25, M23/A23 etc., A27 (Brighton By-Pass), then downhill at the University through to the Downs Hotel lights, then turning right.
In the car, I was ok. I became a little bit nervous in the car, but not too bad. I knew all the questions that I’d be asked, and I thought I had done enough question asking of my own, to know what was involved (see last Saturday between Montrose and Stracathro!) Sarah was in for her 10 week post op check-up, right before my initial consultation. I could see Sarah sat across the seating area, together with Sylvia, and Zoe. Sarah and Sylvia went off to see Phil Thomas, and Zoe stayed to wait for them, and then proceed to visit another friend of theirs upstairs (which I’ll come to later on). I was ok. If I’d not read the experiences of a previous visitor, then I’d be a lot more nervous here.
As S&S came out, Zoe joined them, and we agreed to talk and chat afterwards. At this point, Carla came out for more coffee for Phil, as to “perk him up a bit”… I didn’t ask. Just before the time came, I offered Caroline to come in with me… and she agreed! which was good. When the time came, Liz & Carla came out for me, and we spoke briefly on a few specifics, before being taken into see Phil himself. (we did briefly meet on the reception desk, although I only twigged later). He was then getting into all the specifics, explaining the specifics from his diagram. Then, the phone rang.
“Tell her to get her a**e in gear”… he said. (It was the 1230 appointment person, who had just arrived at Gatwick with around 40 minutes to go). True, he doesn’t mince his words right enough! I feel sorry for whoever that was… but the receptionist could probably filter it out. I’ve missed a variety of buses & trains over the years, so I could sort of sympathise – but we very quickly went back to my own issues. We talked about a number of things, and I was able to answer most of the questions… until they stumped me! “How heavy are you?”
Aah f**k. (My weight does have a habit of going up and down). “I don’t know… have you got a set of scales there?”
Well, they did – in the cubicle - and at 6 foot and 17 stones, I am currently a little overweight. I had to go back off behind the cubicle, on the bed for the physical, and I’d been warned last Saturday by Sarah that this could “mess with your mind”. It wasn’t so bad, but I could see why some people wouldn’t exactly enjoy it. I’ve had fingers and worse stuck up tighter places, so a brief check of the “area to be worked on”, and he said the words “hmm, that’s interesting”.
Turns out my weight is a bit baldy distributed. Although I am technically a little overweight, there is no build-up of fat on the area to be worked on. There is enough material to work with, and no requirement to get rid of any genital hair before hand. (Yes… that is a result – time, as well as cost and pain!)
So, we all got back to the main room (Phil, Liz/Carla, Caroline and myself), and we discussed what will happen. In brief, there is no need for any hair removal. There is no need to make any changes to my life, but losing 10 kilos would make me feel better, and make the recovery more pleasant. It wasn’t tied into the work or anything, it was just a suggestion – and it would also help my depression etc.). At the moment, I admit I am doing a bit of “comfort” eating, so cutting that out should make this easy. As for a date – well, the “first available” is quite a bit away, given that he is fully booked through the summer. We are therefore looking at late August, early September time. As has been echoed by just about everyone there, the staff there are fantastic. I wasn’t at all concerned or upset, but they wanted to reassure me as only they could. While this is the person who will be performing life-changing work on my body, the significance seems to be hitting in gently, rather than shaking me up.
We got out, and myself & Caroline sat down briefly (so I could send Sarah a text, as requested – Liz and friends encourage the use of mobiles at the hospital). We were happy, and Caroline was hugging me tightly. I wasn’t upset at all – in fact, fairly happy at the result.
As we were sat in the delightful waiting area downstairs (and I do mean that, the place seemed more like a hotel than a hospital), Sarah came downstairs alone (from the first floor of the hospital). She said that Jasmine and her mother were happy for me & Caroline to come and see them… and we headed upstairs to her front-facing room. This didn’t show us the view from the back of the hospital, but faced onto the Warren Road (lots of B&H 2’s and 22’s going past!). Now, if I remember rightly, this was her first day back on solid food post-op. She was happy, content, and enjoying the lot. So, for a Saturday morning, she was fairly talkative – and had to be, with myself, Sarah & Sylvia, Caroline, and Zoe (as well as her mother) to speak to. That wonderful post-op “glow” that is talked of seems to be already in place, and genuinely she was in no pain. Everyone says religiously that “it does not hurt” – but I don’t fear pain. As if I needed any more reassurance, Jasmine’s wellbeing was more than enough to show that yes, this was the right place. It somehow seemed that making it personal, and talking to people, has taken the edge off what could have been a routine appointment with an un-named person, in a huge hospital. Zoe left for Manchester, and soon after we left Jasmine & mom to chat for a bit, while we raided the coffee machine. Sarah, Sylvia, Caroline and I sat together in what is the ophthalmic outpatient waiting area, but not on Saturdays it would appear. One of the nurses passed, and recognised Sarah from her visit. That was reassuring. – by this point, I’d long passed the point of needing to be reassured. It just added to the atmosphere. Maybe I’m lucky, but then again, it means Sarah has also been lucky, Jasmine is lucky too, Zoe is coming here soon, and everyone else who has came and gone – many every week – are also being well cared for. I can live with that. It all seemed so “right”. The view from the back of the hospital, over the Downs, is like this…
S&S had offered the two of us to come to Cambridge for the evening, which we gracefully accepted. It was while we were sat down that she said “Neither of you are afraid of snakes, are you?” I’d remembered reading the story of Axmister’s bite, but Caroline appeared to have forgotten… but we agreed to meet up around six-ish.
We headed back, but headed back to the seats to avoid interrupting Jasmine’s bed bath. Her mother joined us in the seating area briefly, and we talked. It seemed wonderful that she was being so supportive of her daughter (in my eyes), and that she was willing to talk of such things. We rejoined Jasmine, and then left about quarter past two I think. We headed out to the car park, and I’d somehow managed to make a half hour appointment turn into to a three-hour visit – it truly is a wonderful hospital, the staff are good, the patients get exceptionally well cared for. As we left, I noticed a stash of copies of the current slimline edition of the Brighton & Hove bus timetable on a table behind the exit – Tails Prower 2040 had picked up one for me on his previous (completely different) visit to Brighton a few weeks ago, but I still love how they can fit the entire city map and summary timetables onto what is effectively an A3 sheet of paper! As you will have gathered, they seem to be magicians in this part of the world… maybe it’s something in the water!
(For the bus hairies reading this, there seemed to be a lot of Route 25 branded buses passing through Woodingdean on the 2/22, but I presumed these were just spare at he weekend because the 25 is the University service. If I remember rightly, and I am no expert on this part of the world, the 25 buses are the newest in the fleet – being the huge Scania OmniDekka 90-odd seater jobs – which looked just about every bit as functional as stylish. One in construction is on the front of the current [winter] edition of Pocket Bus Times).
So, we split here in the wind, vowing to meet again later in the evening. Sarah showed off by managing to start her Toyota Synergy hybrid drive car in electric mode – and yes, it was wonderfully quiet!
So, what a day so far – and it was far from over. We went back essentially via “outward route in reverse”, but I could tell someone was being especially thoughtful and caring for me! We agreed that because we were heading out for a curry in the evening, we didn’t want to fill up right now, but stopped at Clackett Lane services – another M-way services that I’d never visited before. I’m not collecting them or anything, but this weekend it seemed likely
Note that the Apple windscreen sticker was not applied by the current owner! I pointed this out when she visited to collect it, and she had not noticed it until then! We talked about all what we’d just seen and heard, and I was very happy - awestruck maybe. We then carried on the M25, naturally going through the Dartford Tunnel rather than across the QEII Bridge in this direction. I was in a wonderful state of mind – almost enjoying this a little too much.
It was about fourish by the time we left Clackett Lane, so we decided to head straight for Cambridge via the M11. S&S have a wonderful place not far from Cambridge Station, and directions were supplied by return text message. It was at this point that Caroline made her one slightly incorrect turning manoeuvre during the entire 250+ miles trip, and pulled into a bus stop to attempt a u-turn. We made it – just! Cambridge is a city I’ve never been to before, and it looked wonderful. MAN’s and Tridents of Stagecoach (ex Cambus) appeared to be the mainstay of the Citi branded network around the city, and were well loaded throughout. Some familiar faces could be seen on the Park & Ride services – the first batch of East London Tridents, which are now non-compliant for TfL work, but perfectly adequate for the rest of the world.
So, we got there, and found a tiny parking space – Caroline did well at parking the Ka in it, and we were reunited with S&S. We managed to interrupt Sarah’s livejournal posting session, which included a rant about her gridlocked M25 the day before! We met the snakes (my apologies that I didn’t remember all the names, but it had been a busy day by this point!), as well as talking about some trans related stuff too. After getting my rear kicked by Sarah on Super Mario Kart (I’ve not played it since SNES days, and this was my first shot on a GameCube), we headed for The Golden Curry.
They were unusually busy for a Saturday night, and the waiter apologised for this. They said that they had an unusually large group, which they don’t normally take on Saturdays. We had a small round table up against the window, which was perfect for conversing and watching the City go by (Citi?) The food was excellent, and probably the best that I’ve had from such an establishment. All the food was served up brilliantly, After much talk and entertainment all round, we headed back to S&S’s place for a bit, where a pot of Jasmine tea was served up in honour of the person we’d visited earlier! We called it a night around 2300, when Sarah started to flag. It was a truly wonderful night, and we left with safe wishes for my journey north.
Now, if you thought, “that day couldn’t possibility get any better”… there was still time!
We drove down the A10 to Royston, and headed straight to Caroline’s flat, which we had left about fourteen and a half hours before. We talked in the car, and I pointed out how well she’d looked after me for the weekend. We got back in her flat, and she started making hot chocolate. During this time, I slung my arms around her shoulders, and thanked her for everything… told her how I felt and what a wonderful person she was, and we sort of went from there. We sat down on the sofa, and we were very much in love. Caroline’s now my girlfriend, partner, lover, call it what you will. The next time we checked the clock, it was 0230 on Sunday morning. To avoid any suggestions of “April fools”, we agreed to metaphorically stoop the clock for a few hours at 23.59.59 on 31.03.2007… or do the bus industry/London underground trick and call it 2630 hours…
Remember when I was depressed back in January? A certain woman was first on the scene to say lots of nice things to me… and things went from there. I have turned my life around, and am now a very happy woman.
Labels: caroline, surgery, transition, transport
posted by Suzy Scott @ 23:59
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