Amy’s Press Conference – Question Four

Scully asks:

Okay, here’s one for ya. What was your scariest surgery?

Hmmm … interesting questiooooon Scully.

Before answering though, I think we have to first identify the surgeries which I’ve had:

First surgery: Tracheal Shave and related procedures (for those that don’t know what a tracheal shave is, it’s the surgery where they reduce the prominence of one’s Adam’s Apple). Performed by Dr. Zukowski. Support person: None, nada, zippo. I really didn’t tell anyone the total truth about this surgery, Mom and Dad, Shaft and Singer knew I was having surgery, but I sort of misdirected all of them as to what I was actually doing.

Second surgery: Facial Feminization Surgery and liposuction. Performed by Dr. Zukowski. Support person: Shaft. My closest group of peeps were in on the purpose of the surgery by this time; specifically, Mom and Dad, Baby Brother, Sister-in-Law, Ex, Shaft, Singer, Runner-Up, Sister and Miss Daisy were all clued in to the scoop.

Third Surgery: Breast Implants and Upper Lip Lift. Performed by Dr. Zukowski. Support Person: Skipper. Pretty much the same people who know of My Function before my Second Surgery were the ones in the know for my Third Surgery, though a few more work related people were added to the mix.

Fourth Surgery: Genital Reconstruction Surgery. Performed by Dr. Bowers. Support Person: Mom and Dad. I really haven’t highlighted much about the details of my Fourth Surgery and I’m not going to just yet. However, for those who can’t quite grasp the meaning of the words “genital reconstruction surgery”, this was the surgery that most commonly think of as “The Surgery”, i.e. the one where I traded in my outdoor plumbing for indoor plumbing.

Fifth Surgery: Motor Skills Contrition Procedures. This was the surgery where they zapped my brain, removing my ability to knowledgeably operate a motor vehicle and instilling a compelling urge to look at myself in the visor mirror at every stoplight, just kidding … I was like that before any surgery !!! 🙂

Okay, in all reality, I’ve had Four Surgeries. Here’s how they rank:

My First Surgery wasn’t as scary as one might think, considering I did it alone. When this surgery was performed, I was so at the point of desperately searching for a reason, any reason, not to transition. I was hoping that this surgery would be so bothersome to me afterwards, that no longer having an Adam’s Apple I could visually see on my neckline would be so traumatic for me, that I’d clearly have confirmation of some sort that I couldn’t be transsexual, that something else must be my issue. Basically, in some ways I wanted the surgery done to help convinced me that I shouldn’t do any more surgeries. And if something bad happened during the surgery, like I died or something, well … at that point I would have been fine with it. Dead instead of trans wasn’t my first choice, but if it had been at the hands of another and not myself, well, I could have surely rationalized that it was just meant to be then. Though, of course, the rationalization might have been a bit difficult considering I’d have been dead and all. 🙂 Anyways, this surgery wasn’t scary to me in the least. Though it was my first surgery with Dr. Z, my first surgery period, Dr. Z and his staff were so phreaking caring, kewl, and willing to laugh at my jokes, that it was more than a pleasant experience. So on my list of scary surgeries, it’s inversely ranked No. 4.

My Fourth Surgery also wasn’t that scary to me. Now I know, my boy viewers might be cringing at the thought of having their units surgically reconfigured, however … that was far from the case for me. ‘Cause you see, if you’re a girl, the thought of such surgery is a good thing. On a side note, I honestly never related to the reaction I get from boy viewers or guys I talk to when the topic of “The Surgery” comes up … how they almost always visually react in some way to show how unpleasant such a surgery on them would be … but then I was popping around one day and was reading the diary, website of a FTM (female-to-male) transsexual, and he documented some of his surgeries, including his mastectomy, and how he was all excited about the surgery, so looking forward to it. My initial reaction was to cross my arms over my breasts and shudder a sorrowful, “Oh my gawd, that’d be just awful”. Then I realized that “Wow, that much be the impact the thought of my surgery has on guys.” And heck, my boobs are fake and I’m this attached to them, so maybe the bond between guys and their penises is even greater. Oh well. Side note ended. 🙂 Anyways, My Fourth Surgery really wasn’t that scary at all … I had my Mom and Dad there. I was incredibly comfortable with Dr. Bowers and all of her staff, the nurses were great, I was at ease. Heck, Sianna even make a road trip to come see me. I was good. Besides, at that time, I was almost at the point of desperation to get that surgery done. Not because I wanted to get laid or anything, but because the whole SOC (Standards of Care recommended for treatment of transsexualism) didn’t work for me and it was starting to definitely interfere with my social life, or at least putting me at a much greater risk if I wanted to continue my social life. (SOC opinions are sort of controversial at times, these too, I’ll save for discussion on another day, though don’t get me wrong, I think they are good in some ways. I think they served a great purpose in the past, I just don’t think they are modified as quickly as they should be in consideration of advancements and developments in the treatments for transsexuals. In fact, someone ask me a question about the rumble I had with my gatekeeper because they wouldn’t give me the letter saying I should have my GRS because I wasn’t willing to wait a year before having the surgery after I went “full-time”. It was a good one. Whenever God tells me I’m a bitch at times, and I deny it, he always brings that meeting up on the screen as proof he’s right, and sadly enough, I have to agree with him.) So … Fourth Surgery is second from last in the list of scariest surgeries.

Leaving,

My Second Surgery and Third Surgery battling it out for the top spot as Scariest of All of Amy’s Surgeries.

Drum roll please … (technically, this isn’t a drum roll, it’s the drum beat to Pour Some Sugar On Me, which I can totally do with perfection in an airband sort of way)

First Runner-Up …

Is my Second Surgery.

What the ….. ??? Kutting up my face, burring down my skull, being out cold for eight hours plus, having my nose packed with all sorts of materials, my lips blown up, waist sucked apart … that’s less scary that a simple boob job ??? Well, for me … yes. Let me ‘splain Lucy:

Before my Second Surgery, I had a lot of disclosing to do. A lot. There were going to be enough visible changes to my appearance that those closest to me deserved to know what I was doing … meaning that I had a run leading right up to my Second Surgery where it seemed like all I was doing was working up the nerve one day after another to tell someone My Function. That wasn’t easy to do. Not to mention, as the magnitude of my Second Surgery began sinking in with peeps, there were more questions and concerns, all good and legitimate, and I tried to make sure I took the time to discuss and answer any and all. And though I was talking about my Second Surgery and My Function quite often around then, trying to make it as easy as possible for others to get their hands around it all, this actually kept me from thinking too much about exactly what I was doing as I seemed to be able to distance myself from active participation in the surgery. Plus (pay attention here kids, foreshadowing alert), though my Second Surgery was certainly extensive in procedures, I was still doing baby steps at that time, meaning, when the surgery was all said and done, I was still going to go back to work as a boy. I wasn’t “fulltime” chica at this point and I wasn’t going to be “fulltime” chica immediately after this surgery. I decided to have this surgery to make it easier/more comfortable for me to just blend into the world when I wasn’t doing the boy thing, but in the back of my mind, in some nether regions of my noggin’, I was still hoping that after the surgery, I’d find that transitioning was not the thing for me and I could stay boy. Oh sure, by this time most of those close to me knew My Function, but I have to believe that at this stage, if I had decided not to transition, no one would have had any problem with that decision. 🙂 And if I didn’t transition, I could still do the boy thing and pretty much look like, if anything, all I did was have a face lift of some sort. Besides, this was back in the days of the Shaft and Joe Show, so leading up to the Second Surgery, we were running late as usual … and by the time we left the office, said goodbyes to my Mom, Dad, Baby Bro and Family, stopped for my last supper (Burger King), got stuck in traffic, talked about the same things we talked about every time we were in the car for the decade prior, and finally made it to Dr. Z’s hours late for my pre-surgery review … things were flying by much too fast to have the time to be too scared. However … the night before my Second Surgery, when we finally got to the hotel room after completing pre-admittance stuff with Dr. Z … I think the magnitude of what I was doing began to hit Shaft. And subsequently hit me. I think Shaft was scared for a while and I got anxious too. But as it was late at night, the angst didn’t have a chance to last long. The mornings before surgeries go super fast, and the morning of Surgery Two was no exception. I have found you really don’t have too much time to even allow yourself the chance to be scared shitless. Nonetheless, there is one picture of me … one last people of me with Joe’s face, as I was walking into the operating room so they could wash me all over with that cold-as-ice antibacterial stuff, where I turned around and gave a thumbs up sign and smiled … but where everytime I look at the picture, and see my eyes, I’m reminded how scared and alone I felt at that moment. So Surgery Two was definitely scary, but not as scary as Surgery Three.

Because Surgery Three was the point of no return … when I finally went “full-time”. And that was phreaking scary for me. The day before Surgery Three, I worked a long, long day … totally in boy-mode, doing the suit and tie, starched shirt, dress shoes thing. In fact, though at this time all that knew My Function had seen Me Ver 2.0, I was still flipping back and forth quite a bit … and those that knew My Function probably still saw me in boy mode more than otherwise at this point. And I knew that once I had Surgery Three, that was going to change, ’cause let’s face it … after the implants, pulling off boy mode was going to be much more difficult, much more difficult. 🙂 Then with such change, my interactions with these great people, these relationships, was going to be different. My nephews didn’t know My Function at this point, and I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to see them again. Surgery Three was when things, all things, was going to change in my relationships with so many people … and that was incredibly scary, and sad, for me. I had to tell myself “what the phuck” quite a bit that morning, not because I was at serious risk of chickening out, but because I had to work a bit harder than normal to keep myself from thinking too much about it on the way there. I remember clearly my final “what the phuck” moment in Dr. Z’s examination room, sitting there, just before he started drawing on me with markers where he was going to do the work … it was by far the most scared, and sad, I had been up to that point with any surgery. Phreaking scared. Phreaking sad. But here’s the thing with me, and it’s not something that really should come as a surprise to anyone … if I have the time to think out a decision, I take the time to think out the decision, and oftentimes in annoyingly, excruciating detail to others, but once I make a decision of such sorts, I accept and implement … and this time was going to be no different. Though honestly, on this occasion, I seem to remember saying “what the phuck” out loud ! 🙂

So Surgery Three was by far my scariest surgery. You can find a few entries about Surgery Three here. Thanks for the question.