My Bad

Okay, I've been away from this blog way too long. Can I claim Chemo Brain? How about Radiation Burn? No, alright, I guess I'll just have to take personal responsibility. It is my fault, no question about it. The good news is that all of the chemo and radiation are now behind me. I'll start The Pill on Monday I already had the hard stuff variety of that in my Chemo mix, I'm sure it'll just be a take-one-in-the-morning-and-forget-about-it scenario. So, I have no more excuses, and I'll just have to keep up with the blog from now on.

Angela is the main topic of this blog, and so I report that she hasn't been idle. She's been keeping me in line and taking care of my complaints, of course. She's also put in a tile bathroom floor, built a swing set, put together loads of holiday toys, and is now finishing up on a large 8'x8' playhouse for the girls. No, she didn't fall off a ladder, but she did manage to smash one finger, the drill into her two thumbs with her electric screwdriver. See, I can say/write that with a straight face even. She's my T, that's for sure. The good news is that I was handy with the bandages. I always love working on a project with her because she keeps me smiling.

Hormones!

Hormones are a blessing and a curse. I’ve had it with hot flashes, to put it mildly, and I think it only fair that sometime in her life Angela should be blessed with the same situation, don’t you? Here’s the deal: Way back when, in 1998, when she started on hormones, she got massive doses: 5 full milligrams to my HRT dose of .325 milligrams. That forced teenage puberty. I’ve already written about the joys of having a 57-year-old husband going through the 13-year-old-girl stage. Most of it was fun and funny; I mean how many women get to tell their husband, “go back in there and take off half of that make-up, put on a longer skirt and lower heels?” I also got to give “sage” advice about make-up, perfume (oh lordy, that’s ANOTHER story!), color and hair. It wasn’t long until she became a teenage, and, of course, then she knew everything there was to know, and ‘who the heck was I to be giving advice?’ Ah well. So, back to hormones: since they found the cancer, I have had to be off hormones – completely. That means I'm having Hot Flashes - AGAIN.

When Angela had her surgery, at least for those first couple of weeks afterward anyway, she had to wear a pad. I suppose you could consider that a short-version of a couple ministration cycles. That was it; ho-hum right? That’s okay; but this hot flashes/flushes business is just not fair if you ask me. I figure if I have to have them, so should she, at least sometime in her life, even if it is when she’s eighty.

Better

She's back! My happy wifey is back. Maybe it was "Menopausal." Who knows? Who cares. We girls are allowed to be emotionally volatile, right? Angela included.

We'll be loading up the RV for a trip with RVing Women this weekend. We'll be staying at an RV resort just south of Redding, CA. This is a fun group of women who are accepting of everyone, and how I wish there were more of these type of folks around! We always enjoy ourselves with them, and rain or not, we know we'll have a good time, even though it's a long drive for only a two night stay.

We've had Brooke here for a couple of days, and due to my medical schedule, Angela has had to be primary caregiver when Brooke is here. She's a great babysitter, in addition to being the perfect grandmother. She's the consummate playmate for a 2+ year old, that's for sure.

She keeps me on the straight and narrow, always making sure that my humidifier is going when I come to bed. She makes sure I take a nap every afternoon. She won't let me lift or move things heavier than I'm "allowed," and she's always available for a tension back rub or a rubdown for lymphodemia. Now, those last two are huge in the Helpful Dept, let me tell you.

She's my biggest booster, and the softest soft shoulder, even when I don't think I need one. She's always there to take on that one-more-job I either used to do, or should be doing when I'm taking a nap or at the doctor instead. She never complains, she just does it. You know what? She the long suffering wife, without the suffering. She always makes me laugh, either at her, the situation, or myself. Even when she's blue herself.

What more could I want? Yes, she's the Best. So, yep, all this is just another Best Thing About Being Married to a Transsexual. Don't you wish you had one?

Blue Funk continues

Yep, she's all woman. I'd say she's menopausal, but I don't think that counts under the circumstances

I gave her a nice card and offered to make a day of shopping and going out to a nice dinner. “I don’t want to,” was her reply. Yesterday, I dragged her through a store between doctor appointments, and she lackadaisically only touched a couple of outfits. Even shoes, her number one priority for years, didn’t get her interested. Instead, she complained “wearing those high, high heels that I love caused my bunion, and now I can’t even wear regular high heels for long.” I felt the “boo-hoo,” even if I didn’t hear it.

So, no, we didn’t go out either. We do have a dinner guest joining us this week, and one next week. She can dress up for both of them. So, I’m counting on at least one of them to perk her up. I’m hoping that having a few days of sunshine will help too (forecast for next week).
Keep your fingers crossed.

Beauty crisis

We're having a crisis around here. Angela's SRS was in January 2002. Before and after her surgery, she was beautiful. Her transition took 10 years off her face - all the fine wrinkles were gone, the beard was gone, and the new feminine layer of fat softened all her features. Time passed, and the dosage of HRT lessened, and, of course, she got a little older. She also acquired the laments typical-of-many-females: I’m not pretty enough, and I’m too fat. Yes, she’s gained a little weight. She’s still beautiful to me, and I’m envious of that beauty because I have the same issues, especially now that I have no hair and my eyebrows and eyelashes are falling out too (thanks to chemo!). The main problem, you see though, is that she’s often in blue jeans and a cotton blouse, polo or sweatshirt around the house. The other problem is that we don’t go out where we need to dress up anymore. Most of that is because we’re retired and have less disposable income, but part of that is a choice – we tend to go out to dinner at good, but more casual restaurants like Outback, Applebee’s and such. So, this weekend I’m taking her out for a shopping spree and to a “class joint” for dinner. I’m getting a special card today, to give her tomorrow. We’ll see what happens, and I’ll let you know. (Keep your fingers crossed!)

Wax & Rain

Yeah, I know it is supposed to be ‘wax and wane,’ but I said wax and rain ‘cuz that is what happened to Angela. She spent 2.5 days waxing the RV, only to have it rain through our whole RV trip. Of course, I told her the rain was all her fault. Yes, the weatherman told us rain was on the way, but who believes the weatherman in the winter around here (especially when the forecast is rain)? Now, in the summer, when the weather is always ‘102-3-or 4 degrees and sunny’ – THAT we believe – but not when rain is predicted. So, this weekend, the weatherman said, “Rain,” and that is what we got – gobs of it. Now, Angela, being a morning person, is always first up. She also takes the dogs out for their first walk. This time, the rain was really pelting us. Even so, she kindly took the little beasties out for their 15-minute sniff, doodle around and do their business. Not only that, but she gave them a good rub down when she returned to the RV – without even disturbing me. What a gal! What makes this special? When she was David, even a sprinkle meant, “Jonni, it’s raining out, you’ll have to do the dogs!” So, this is just another one of those Best Things About Being Married to a T.

Little Things

There's an old saying about how "its the little things that count." I'm finding that true in my life with my T. Angela, as David, was always the gentleman; he opened doors, carried the heavy stuff, and did all the guy things. He also helped out in the kitchen and with raising our daughter. Now, I find that all those things continue, only now there is more granddaughter things on her list than helping the daughter things. The little things I'm talking about though, are just about the two of us: She is the one who fills the humidifier every-other-night. She's the one who says, kindly, "don't you think you should wear your compression arm," when I'm doing something unusual (it's for Lymphadema after the cancer surgery). She's the one who always takes the heavy end when we're liftiing something, even though her strength is much less than when she was a man due to the female hormones. She's the one who notices when I'm tired and suggests a break, a rest, or a nap. In short, she is always doing the little things that make my life easier. I appreciate that more than she will ever know. It's great to be married to a Trans!