Today marks my three week anniversary since having surgery. It is hard to believe that it has been three weeks, it seems as though it has been both forever ago and just yesterday. This Friday marks two weeks before my thesis is due and that has rapidly taken on a greater importance than trying to adjust to living without breasts (which has been surprisingly easy, aside from my still feeling slightly naked without having to wear a bra or the binder). Last week was hard as it was my first week back, but it got incrementally easier each day. This week is a bit easier in terms of having energy to do things-I no longer feel completely exhausted, just partially exhausted. I did manage to over extend myself both Monday and yesterday while teaching. It’s hard to write on a chalkboard, never mind having to erase from it. Being the third week after surgery, today also marks the last day I have to wear dressings over the grafts. This is the final thing that I’ve been instructed to do by Dr. Brownstein, so it’s nice to come to the “end” of his instructions. I have, however, begun using a topical “scar” cream on my incisions and have started taking vitamin E everyday. There are no guarantees with the scar cream or the vitamin E, which is fine, as scars aren’t something that I’m overly concerned about. I’m using these more to be proactive about my recovery than out of worry for my aesthetics. I still have a scab on one of the drain holes but noticed the scab had fallen off of the other drain hole. The grafts are mostly still covered with scabs, but those are falling off little by little. It will be interesting to see if they start to fall off more after I stop wearing the dressings.
Recent life experiences have reminded me about another way trans folk sometimes transition; for some trans individuals changes are made to the name they go by. Taylor is actually my last name, something I started being referred to when we moved here to San Francisco. My first and middle names are beautiful names, they go together very nicely and it is a very classy old-fashioned combination. I’ve never really felt comfortable with the names, however, and Taylor seems to be more fitting for me. It’s hard to write about this because it’s hard to try to verbalize how the name I was given before birth and have had for 25 years doesn’t feel right; in my family's mind, it is the right name and I know the importance behind the reason it was given to me. Deciding to go by Taylor was one of the hardest decisions I’ve made throughout this entire process. Most of the difficulties in that decision had to do with fear of disappointing my parents. I didn’t even tell them about the change until this past January when I came out to them as trans and told them I intended to have chest surgery (though I didn’t know at the time the surgery would be more immediate than not). I assume they already knew about my going by Taylor as both of my sisters have visited me here and heard friends refer to me as such (and because at least one of my sisters has difficulties keeping things secret even when asked to…though I don’t remembering asking them to keep this a secret). My parents actually seemed more upset about the name change than anything else during our conversation in January. Going by my last name without having made any legal changes to my name gets confusing at certain times, in certain contexts. I have gone for months here without experiencing this, aside from M having to remember who she’s talking to and by what name that person knows me as-but that’s more complicated for her than for me. Recently, however, there have been multiple times and contexts that have been complicated. In the past week, I have had two phone interviews for jobs and have been to the dentist. In these contexts, my full name is required and consequently, my first name has been used. While at the dentist’s office last week, the dentist came to the waiting room looking at my chart. Upon looking at my name, she stopped in the doorway and looked around the office as though she was very confused. She had hesitated for about 15 seconds (even though I was literally the ONLY person in the waiting room) before I finally told her that I was probably who she was looking for. These types of experiences were part of what prompted my decision to go by Taylor in the first place (did I mention that my first name is what M refers to as an 80-year old woman’s name?). It was more awkward to tell people I go by my last name right after I started doing so, it has certainly become easier to do so, but still presents unique situations that have to be negotiated. Again, this isn't a unique or common experience to being trans; but it is another layer that comprises some trans folks' transitions.