Medically Speaking

A Small Achievable Dream

Inching ever closer to Christmas and what will be a difficult first one without my Mum. I had hoped she’d make it to the turn of the year but life isn’t always able to give you what you hope for. And there’s really not much you can do about that.

But there are still always little things you can do that might help someone else and one of those is currently sort of close to my heart. Which is supporting the Dreamlab project.

It’s a project which seeks to use the untapped computing power of our phones to tackle millions of research calculations into solving cancer and making better use of existing drug resources. And the only thing you actually have to do, is just charge your phone.

There isn’t a catch. Whether you download it or not is up to you though, it’s available for Android and iOS if you look. I lost both my parents to cancer, 21 years apart. It wasn’t any easier the second time around and I do hope you go your entire life without feeling it’s touch. Statistically, that’s a high hope indeed.

But my main hope with this post is that you maybe do download it. Maybe you even mention it to somebody else and they do too. And maybe lots of those tiny calculations means eventually someone else sees another Christmas because we understand more about treating cancer. Think their hashtag says it best #sleeplikeahero, it’s not rocket science to know that’s a good idea.

Relatively Speaking, Transition

They Always Said That You Knew Best

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been here. The short version is simpler to explain. My Mum passed away. Knowing it was coming did not make it feel any easier. But I’m not in the mood for despondency.

I’m determined that the rest of my life is going to be about the positives. A tone largely set by her funeral. A day I dreaded that turned out to be one of the most comforting and enjoyable experiences you could imagine. It was so good that I forgot to be sad. Surreal as that was.

Although it’s still early days, I have mostly continued to forget to be sad for the last fortnight. I’ll admit to pockets of tears but on the whole, I’m mostly just grateful for all that she was.

My own journey was only ever completed because of her acceptance. She even travelled 500 miles to bring me home after surgery. Which she could not be talked out of. She took Motherhood kind of seriously. And I’ll miss that. Just having someone totally in your corner. God bless her little cotton socks.


Things That Make You Go Hymn

I am the worst sort of Lapsed Catholic. So I began 2018 with that sort of mindset. And everything served up this year has only continued to push me further away from the idea of a right and just God.

All that 2018 has actually delivered has been difficulty upon difficulty, to the point that any residual faith I might have harboured has finally evaporated.

Which makes it incredibly frustrating that my current Go To coping mechanism is actually Catholic Hymns. I hate it. I have very little to thank God for at present. And yet, I continue to find myself constantly singing songs about a God I don’t really believe in.

I can’t reconcile any kind of entity that would visit such a torturous year on my family, with anything I was taught to believe. And I lack the finesse to explain in words just how disappointed I am. But frustratingly, I still find myself belting out these bloody hymns with gusto every day. How’s that for a subconscious trick? Once a Catholic.

You might have gathered that this is a venting sort of post. I make zero apologies for that. It’s just an online diary anyway really. And today I’m just feeling a little broken and this is where I come when I am. Next time I’ll maybe cover faulty vaginas and returning them within the warranty period. Or something less serious. God willing.



Today is exactly a year since I had my Gender Reassignment Surgery. So the born again me is technically one. There should probably have been balloons and maybe there was an argument for some sort of celebratory cake. But there isn’t.

Not because I’m not genuinely pleased. It’s just that it has turned out a more mundane anniversary than I thought it would be. I’m more or less just getting on with life. No regrets at all. And I pretty much don’t remember how it ever felt to be any different anyway. Which I really don’t think is such a bad thing.

Birthday Blowout

I’ve probably been quietly celebrating for 365 days in any case, so the need to really mark the occasion just wasn’t there. I got where I wanted to be, despite how difficult it sometimes may have been. But if I was going to note anything at all about it, it could only ever be all of those people who came with me from the very start.

Without good friends, I don’t think I would have managed the journey as intact. And without the common decency of total strangers it would have been next to impossible. Obviously there were the one’s that frequently weren’t anywhere near decent too. A vocal enough minority. But it’s a happy time, I carry no grudges towards them and wish them no ill. So I’ll even go as far as to raise my glass and dedicate today’s tune to those particular folk. Chin chin! And God Bless their little cotton socks. Happy enough for everybody today.


An Eraser Rub

I know for a fact I have used this tune before. Although in a much more celebratory sense. But this week saw news from America that seems to suggest Trump sanctioned moves against the US Trans population. Let’s face it, he doesn’t intend stopping there. And this was the one song that leapt out at me.

The lyrics repeat throughout and certain refrains are what resonated with me here. “An eraser of love”, that is certainly his intention where we are concerned. “I’m invisible” is what he’d like me, and others like me, to be. Without hard won rights. And make no mistake, he has his sights set on taking “everything, everything”. Every last shred of progress ever made in the last few decades.

Updated for the Chump era

It’s often been mooted that trends across the pond eventually make their way here. Given the progress we are currently making, that is a terrifying prospect. Because while Trump captains the good ship USA, that hate could slip onto our shores on the tide of turpitude that he’s ridden to get where he is.

He has now slithered his way beyond just “locker room” talk. He is the worst possible manifestation of everything the marginalised could think to fear. Although everything we needed to know about him and what he stands for is contained in THIS CLIP. That this somehow became the Leader of the Free World should be to our eternal collective shame.

For some reason, a fair amount of the people who have read or continue to read this blog are American. Friend or foe, in regards to Trump, you have my pity. But nobody has a choice in who they are born to be. Or who their children will be born to be. As your Midterms approach, try to remember it could be your children’s rights that Trump is going to rub out. And take the time to vote!. If you would support such measures as Trump and his ilk propose then bear in mind that, Republican or Democrat, you won’t ever get to choose whether you have an LGBT child. Be careful what you wish for. Before you give their rights away, you can just choose to be part of a world they are welcome in. You know, the Land of the Free? You used to be.


Me, Myself And Why

This weekend brings an end in the United Kingdom to a consultation on reforming Gender Recognition law. It may have escaped most of you. Especially as over 99% of you will have never questioned your gender. I wouldn’t imagine it was even on your radar. Because as part of the 99+%, you just get to be, no questions asked.

The debate on both sides has been vitriolic and particularly partisan. For the sake of my own wellbeing, I’ve really had to deliberately avoid parts of the internet, mostly Twitter as the most awful of keyboard gangsters are furiously emboldened there. But the media, to a scary extent including far right rags from the USA, has been churning out incendiary articles for weeks, lest the UK choose to be fit for this century.

You know who you are

That the 99+% have legitimate questions has never bothered me. That totally makes sense. That they fear gender recognition reform does baffle me though. Every day in which you have been alive is one in which Transgender people have self identified, used gender appropriate facilities and got on with their lives quietly. With what ever dignity they could manage.

Society has not been swept aside by a tsunami of Transgender crime has it? And it won’t ever be by making things fairer. But the three separate psychological assessments I’ve had should be enough to obtain a Gender Recognition Certificate on their own. They are not. I still, if I want one, require to pay a faceless panel ,that I will never meet, to decide that I am Transgender enough. Have you ever had to pay anyone for the right to be you?

Because I am a contrary cow, I will never possess a Gender Recognition Certificate. I am proudly Transgender. My birth certificate belongs to Chris, Chrissy does not give a solitary fuck about “outing” herself to anyone. But still, nobody should have to. And that’s why reform needs to happen. Only around 5000 GRC’s have been issued since 2004. Approximately 350 per year. More parking tickets than that are issued daily in my city alone. What, in the name of God, are people scared of? Reform will come. If not now then eventually. I can wait. But truthfully, we’ve already waited long enough.


A Horse Of Many Colours

Just about two weeks from my first anniversary as a Post Op person. That’s happened so disturbingly quickly, I almost have whiplash from the speed.

It’s been a really difficult year, not at all what I’d hoped for. But despite itself, it’s delivered me to a pretty good place. Mostly because it’s the first year I’ve felt I was starting to do Adult properly. That’s Capital A adult, not XXX adult, for the sake of clarity.

The many faces of Janus

It’s just seemed like 2018 has been unceasingly cruel. To my friends, people around us and, more personally, my own family. But at the same time, it’s been a year I’ve also been able to look backwards. And accidentally discover, I regret pretty much nothing.

I’m not made of Teflon but no matter how things have been, I’m lucky in that nothing bad has ever stuck with me for very long. You learn, you grow and you eventually cope. So today, the pics above document a decade of my transition. From early steps to almost right now and each from a memory I enjoy. With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, I can now see that I was always happy. Occasionally confused but actually ALWAYS happy.

Which means that no matter how 2018 ends, I’ll maybe be able to look backwards again later. And see that,whether it felt like it or not, it did hold happy times too. That feels like quite a grown up plan to go forward with. My grip on my world has never been tighter. Writing this is definitely enough adulting for today though.