Mi ciudadania canadiense en el limbo//Canadian citizenship limbo

Cambie mi nombre legalmente poco despues de comenzar a vivir y trabajar como mujer a tiempo completo; fue cuestion de llenar unos formularios, hacer traducir mi certificacion de nacimiento de Cuba y legalizarla (La notaria no me quiso cobrar un centavo por sus servicios porque, segun me dijo: ‘A la gente valiente hay que ayudarla’) ademas de pagar 137.00 al gobierno. Recibi por correo un Certificado de Cambio de Nombre solo 35 dias despues de enviar todos los documentos.

Me fui primero a la oficina del Ministerio de Transporte para cambiar el nombre en mi licencia de conduccion; lleve ademas una carta de mi medico de familia en la que dejaba constancia de que un cambio en la designacion de genero era apropiada; unos dias despues ya tenia una licencia actualizada con mi nueva fotografia, nombre y genero.

No hubo el minimo problema con el cambio de mi nombre y fotografia en la tarjeta de salud pero me dijeron que la designacion de genero ellos solo la cambiaban luego de la cirugia de conversion genital.

El cambio de nombre en mi trabajo no fue un problema. Tampoco hubo problemas con el banco CIBC; les dije que en toda la correspondencia se dirigieran a mi como mujer y asi ha sido desde entonces. Tuve un problema menor con el banco President’s Choice Financial porque sus requisitos para el cambio de nombre eran algo diferentes a los de los otros bancos y compañias crediticias. Decidi que no valia la pena disgustarse y no mucho despues ya tenia mi nueva tarjeta de debito. En una ocasion si me les tuve que enfrentar cuando intente hacer una transferencia de fondos a otra cuenta. Me queje. Una señora muy agradable me llamo para pedirme mil disculpas. Nada mas, nunca mas.

Tan pronto como me recupere de la cirugia me fui otra vez a la oficina del Ministerio de Salud donde actualizaron la designacion de genero, entonces fui a la Oficina del Seguro Social para que actualizaran mi informacion y me dijeron que tenia que llevarles una certificacion de nacimiento canadiense o un certificado de ciudadania. Como no naci en Canada, el Certificado de Ciudadania era mi unica opcion.

Unos meses antes de la cirugia solicite un nuevo Certificado de Ciudadania con mi nuevo nombre y lo recibi dentro del plazo establecido. Despues de la cirugia repeti el tramite para tener un Certificado con la designacion de genero actualizada. Envie una copia de la declaracion jurada ante notario de mi cirujano. Pense entonces que seria la misma rutina que hasta el momento con el resto de mis documentos.

Unas semanas despues de haber enviado mi solicitud recibi una llamada de el Centro de Procesamiento gubernamental. Una señora llamaba para preguntar por que yo solicitaba un nuevo Certificado de Ciudadania. Le dije que necesitaba actualizar le designacion de genero. Al parecer ellos no habian caido en la cuenta cuando revisaron mi documentacion. La señora me pidio disculpas…entonces pensaba que todo seria cuestion de unas semanas mas…no podia imaginar lo que sucederia…

El sitio web del gobierno dice que el tiempo promedio para el procesamiento de una solicitud es de 6 meses; cuando cai en la cuenta de que llevaba esperando mas tiempo del estipulado los llame y me dijeron que mi solicitud habia sido transferido a la Unidad de Apoyo del Programa y que ellos no podian hacer nada, ni siquiera llamar para preguntar hasta pasados 18 meses!!

Le envie un mensaje al Miembro del Parlamento de mi circumscripcion y uno a Jason Kenney; Ministro de Ciudadania; la oficina del señor Kenney no se molesto en responder y esto es lo que recibi de la oficina del Miembro del Parlamento local:

Buenas Tardes Lucia

En nombre de Stephen Woodworth, Miembro del Parlamento de Kitchener, deseo dar fe del recibimiento de su comunicacion virtual con respecto a su solicitud de un nuevo Certificado de Ciudadania y su preocupacion en cuanto al tiempo de procesamiento.

El tiempo promedio para el procesamiento de solicitudes de evidencia de ciudadania, por ejemplo, cuando alguien ha extraviado el Certificado, es tipicamente de 6 meses aunque al contactar el ministerio me informaron que este tiempo puede llegar a 10 meses. Esto es para una solicitud estandar de rutina.

Dado que hay un cambio de genero y un posible cambio de nombre en su certificado, se requerira una revision mas profunda y, por tanto, tal solicitud seria enviada a la Unidad de Apoyo al Programa, esta unidad se asegurara de comprobar que toda la informacion requerida con respecto a la solicitud ha sido brindada. Todas las solicitudes enviadas a esta unidad pueden tomar hasta 18 meses para su conclusion y, como dije antes, son para todas las solicitudes que no son estandar o de rutina.

Confio en que esta informacion le ayudara a comprender el por que de la demora en el procesamiento de su solicitud.

Sinceramente…

Dany Morin

Mi Miembro del Parlamento parece estar mas preocupado en ‘reabrir el debate’ sobre las interrupciones de embarazos en Canada y los derechos de quienes no han nacido que los de quienes ya estamos aqui. Consulte a algunas personas en la comunidad transgenero y Jennifer McCreath (Ver su blog en ingles aqui: http://www.jennifermccreath.blogspot.com/) a quien conoci en la clinica de Montreal, me sugirio que contactara la Randall Garrison o Dany Morin; Miembros del Parlamento por el Partido Nacional Democrata (NDP, sigla en ingles), ambos han expresado su compromiso y apoyo a las minorias sexuales. Les envie mensajes a ambos y un asistente de Dany Morin me llamo enseguida con un interes genuino de ayudar. Me pidio que enviara al Ministerio de Ciudadania una carta dando mi consentimiento para que ellos pudieran acceder a mi informacion personal. Envie la carta el 21 de febrero. Tengo la esperanza de que todo se resuelva pronto.

Alguien de la oficina de Randall Garrison me envio una respuesta menos optimista:

Estimada Lucia,

Gracias por contactarnos acerca de los problemas que ha tenido para obtener su nuevo Certificado de Ciudadania. Yo me ocupo de lidiar con todos los casos referentes a immigracion y ciudadania, tambien trabajo con el señor Garrison en todo lo que tenga que ver con las minorias sexuales en nuestra circumscripcion.

Randall Garrison

En primer lugar, lamento que haya recibido una respuesta tan tajante de la oficina de Stephen Woodworth. Esta claro que no le ayudo en nada; sin embargo, me temo que tienen un argumento valido; el problema con los estimados de procesamiento es que el Centro recibe todas las solicitudes, la mayoria de los solicitantes no solicitan cambios, simplemente desean una copia del expediente existente. Estas solicitudes de ‘rutina’ son las que toman de 6 a 10 meses.

En mi experiencia, sin embargo, cualquier solicitud que requiera acciones especificas o siquiera una segunda evaluacion –desde un error de ortografia en los papeles de ingreso al pais hasta un cambio de genero- tiene grandes posibilidades de terminar en manos de la Unidad de Apoyo al Programa, un departamento de plantilla minima con una acumulacion extraordinaria de expedientes atrasados. El procesamiento a traves de esta unidad toma mas de un año, incluso 14 o 16 meses no es inusual. La buena noticia (Si hay alguna) es que no le han discriminado ni señalado por ser transgenero, toda clase de solicitudes terminan en este agujero negro. He encontrado el mismo poblema una y otra vez con diversas personas por diferentes razones.

No obstante, estamos aqui para servirle. Si no ha recibido nada dentro de 6-8 semanas, envieme un correo y vere si puedo averiguar el estatus de su solicitud. (Que quede claro que nosotros no tenemos jurisdiccion fuera de nuestra circumscripcion pero Randall siente un compromiso especial con las minorias sexuales que han hecho el intento pero no han recibido ayuda de sus propios Miembros del Parlamento)

Sinceramente,

Martha Juillerat

Veremos…

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English version

I had my name changed legally shortly after starting to live and work full time as a female. It was a matter of filling out an application, have my Cuban birth certificate translated and notarized (The notary public refused to charge me a single penny as she thought that I was ‘very brave’) and paying a 137.00 fee to the government. I sent off the paperwork and 35 days later I got a Name Change Certificate in the mail.

I went first to the MTO office to have my name changed on my driver’s licence. I brought with me a letter from my family doctor stating that a gender marker change was appropriate and a few days later I had my new driver's license in my new name with a new photograph and gender designation.
I had no problem changing my name and picture on my health card but I was told that the gender designation would only be changed after genital surgery.

Changing my name at work was no problem. There was no problem with the CIBC bank either; I told them that I wanted to be addressed as female in all my corresponce and we have never had an issue. I had some minor issue with President’s Choice Financial though as their requirements for the name change were slightly different from those of other banks; I decided not to make a fuss about it and not long after that I had my new debit card. I did have an issue with them once when trying to make a transfer to a different account and complained. A very nice lady got back to me and apologized. No problems since.

As soon as I was back on my feet after the surgery I went to the Health office where they updated my gender marker, then I went to the Social Insurance office to have my information updated and I was told that I needed to bring either a Canadian Citizenship Certificate or a Canadian Birth Certificate. I wasn’t born in Canada, so my Citizenship Card was my only option.

A few months before the surgery I applied for a Citizenship Certificate in my new name and got it back within the appropriate time. After the surgery I applied for a new one with the gender designation updated, I sent a copy of the affidavit signed by my surgeon. I thought this would be just as much a routine as everything else.

A couple of weeks after I sent off my application I got a phone call from the government Case Processing Centre. A very nice lady wanted to know why I was applying for a new Certificate. I told her I needed the gender marker to be updated. It didn’t seem too obvious to them when they went through my application documents apparently. The lady apologized and I still thought it would be a matter of a few more weeks. Little did I know…

The government website says that the average processing time for such application is 6 months. When I realized that I had been waiting longer than that I phoned them and I was told that my application had been referred to the so-called Program Support Unit and that they couldn’t do anything about this; only after 18 months they could go back and ask them what was going on. 18 LONG MONTHS! I had trouble digesting the news.

I sent a message to the local Member of the Parliament of my riding and one to Mr. Jason Kenney, the Minister of Citizenship. Mr Kenney’s office didn’t bother to respond and this is what I got from my MP office:

Good Afternoon Lucia,

On behalf of Stephen Woodworth, MP for Kitchener Centre, I wish to acknowledge your recent Online form Submission regarding your concern with your application for a new Canadian Citizenship Certificate and the time involved for processing.

The average time for processing all proof of citizenship applications, typically when someone has lost their citizenship card, is 6 months although in contacting CIC they have told me this number is closer to 10 months. This is for a standard, routine application.

Given that there is a gender change and possible name change on your certificate further review would be required and as such the application would be forwarded to the Program Support unit. This unit would make sure that all the information they require and verification needed is provided as well as conducting all the checks that may be required with regard to the application. All applications sent to this Unit can take up to 18 months to be completed and, as I had noted earlier, are for applications that are not standard or routine.

I trust that this information will help you to understand why there has been the delay in the processing of your application.

Sincerely…

Dany Morin NDP MP

My MP seems to be more concerned about ‘opening the debate’ on abortion in Canada and the rights of babies to be born than helping those who have been around for a while. I consulted a few people in the transgender community and Jennifer McCreath, (see her blog http://www.jennifermccreath.blogspot.com/) whom I had met in the Montreal clinic, suggested that I contacted either Randall Garrison or Dany Morin offices, both NDP MP’s who have expressed their commitment to assist and support members of the LGBT community. I wrote to both and an assistant to Dany Morin called back right away. He was genuinely interested to help and requested that I sent to the Case Processing Centre an Information Sharing Consent Letter so that they are able to release information to their office. I sent the letter yesterday. I am hopeful that this can be solved sometime soon.

Someone from Randall Garrison’s office got back to me with less than optimistic response:

Dear Lucia,

Thank you for emailing us about the problems you are having in getting your new Citizenship Certificate. I handle all of Randall’s immigration and citizenship casework, and I also work with him on LGBTQ issues in our riding.

Randall Garrison NDP MP

First, I am sorry that you received such a curt response from Stephen Woodworth’s office. Clearly it was not the least bit helpful to you. However, I’m afraid his office does have a point. The problem with CIC’s estimated processing time is that CIC lumps all applications for Citizenship Certificates together. The vast majority of applicants are not requesting anychanges; they simply want a copy of their existing file. These “routine” applications are, in fact, processed in about six to eight months.

In my experience, though, any application requiring some sort of action, or even just a second look – anything from a misspelling on a landing paper to a gender change – has a fair chance of landing up in the Program Support Unit, a badly understaffed department with an extraordinarily long backlog of applications. Processing through the PSU takes well over a year; 14 to 16 months is not unusual. The good news (if there is any to be had here) is that you are not being singled out and discriminated against because you are transgender; all kinds of applications get sucked into that black hole. I have encountered the same problem over and over again with a diversity of people and issues.

That being said, we are here to help. I would say that if you haven’t heard anything at all from CIC within the next six to eight weeks, send me an email and I’ll see if I can check on your status. (For the record: Constituency offices don’t have jurisdiction to assist people outside of our their own ridings. However, Randall is committed to assisting LGBTQ folk who have made a good faith effort to work with their own MP’s office but haven’t gotten anywhere.)

Sincerely...


We’ll see…

El Centro Nacional de Educacion Sexual de Cuba//The Cuban National Centre of Sex Education

CENESEX. Ciudad de la Habana.

El Centro Nacional de Educacion Sexual (CENESEX) es la unica institucion en Cuba que tiene un Grupo Multidisciplinario de Atencion a Transexuales. El grupo fue creado en la decada del 70 del siglo pasado. Gracias a los esfuerzos de este grupo se logro la primera cirugia de reasignacion genital en 1988. De entonces recuerdo una breve nota en el periodico que me estremecio los cimientos; ya sabia quien era y vivia una vida falsa con expectativas aun mas falsas que incluian sepultar mi propio yo para poder tener un plan de vida ‘aceptable’ para la sociedad y para mi misma. Fue solo recientemente que vi el documental ‘En el cuerpo equivocado’ en el que se revela la identidad de Mavis Susel, que se sometio a aquella cirugia en 1988. Ver el documental aqui: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wsUgwDMaKwY

Acudi al CENESEX por primera vez en 1995; mis presiones internas eran tan grandes que necesitaba que alguien ‘confirmara’ que yo era un travestista heterosexual, lo que necesitaba creer entonces. Estaba enamorada -de una mujer, el amor de mi vida- y necesitaba darle alguna salida a las confusiones reprimidas de toda una vida. Ya le habia dicho a mi novia que me fascinaba vestirme y maquillarme como una mujer y ella lo habia aceptado; solo que yo sabia inconscientemente que mis sentimientos iban mas alla pero acomodar mi yo a una media verdad relativamente aceptable me hizo la vida mas llevadera durante un tiempo.

Lic. Mayra Rodriguez

Nos atendio la Lic. Mayra Rodriguez Lauzurrique; fue muy profesional y humana; la vimos un par de veces, nos dijo a mi y mi novia de entonces que eramos una pareja en perfecto equilibrio y que no habia por que preocuparse, nos dijo esto al vernos en mas de una ocasion, con mi novia sentada sobre mis piernas en su oficina. Me tranquilice for algun tiempo.

Regrese a ver a Mayra un año despues, luego de una explosion de sentimientos que destruyo mi relacion. Esta vez le dije toda la verdad; le dije que toda la vida me habia sentido mujer y que no habia nada que deseara mas que transformar mi cuerpo, le dije que mi vida era un infierno, le dije que vivia en una confusion enorme, le dije tanto que no se cuanto le dije ni cuanto tiempo estuve alli. El dolor enorme de haber perdido al amor de mi vida era tan lacerante que dura hasta hoy.

Me incluyeron en un programa de seguimiento de dos años, al cabo del cual me diagnosticaron como transexual en 1998, entonces…nada mas, un vacio desesperanzador. Por razones que desconozco de primera mano luego de esta primera cirugia en 1988 no hubo otra hasta tal vez el año 2008. y las hormonas recien se le administraban a un grupo de personas que habia vivido como mujeres durante años. La depilacion era poco menos que un sueño imposible.

Bajo los auspicios del CENESEX, se logro que las cirugias se reanudaran años despues de haberme establecido en Canada. Para entonces la directora del Centro era Mariela Castro Espin, hija de Raul Castro, actual presidente en funciones de Cuba.

Mariela Castro Espin. Directora del CENESEX

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English Version

THE CUBAN NATIONAL CENTRE OF SEX EDUCATION

National Centre of Sex Education. Havana City.

The National Centre of Sex Education (CENESEX) is the only institution in Cuba that has a Multidisciplinary Group of Attention to Transsexuals which was created in the 70’s. Thanks to the efforts of this group the first sex reassignment surgery took place in Cuba back in 1988. I remember a brief note in the papers that shook my world to the core; I already knew who I was and lived a false life with even more false expectations that included burying my inner self so I could have an ‘acceptable’ life ahead. It was only recently that the identity of the individual who had that surgery was revealed in a documentary: ‘In the wrong body’. You can see it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wsUgwDMaKwY

I went to the CENESEX for the first time back in 1995; I was under so much internal pressure that I needed someone to validate my feelings: I wanted someone to say I was a heterosexual transvestite, which was what I wanted to believe then so I could deal with my lifetime repressed confusions. I had told my girlfriend that I liked to dress as a woman and wear make-up; she was ok with it; only that I knew that my feelings went above and beyond that but accommodating to a relatively acceptable half truth made my life easier for a while.

Mayra Rodriguez

We saw psychologist Mayra Rodriguez Lauzurrique a couple of times; she was very professional and humane; after listening to us she said that we seemed to be a perfectly well-balanced couple and that there was nothing to worry about. She said it more than once while I had my girlfriend sitting on my lap in her office. I was reassuring…for a while.

I came back to Mayra a year later, after a break-down that ended up destroying my relationship. This time I told her all the truth; I told her that all my life I have felt I was a woman and that there was nothing I wanted more than transform my body, I told her that my life was hell, I told her that I lived in an enormous confusion, I told her so much that I don’t know how much I told her or how long I was there. The pain of losing the love of my life hurt so much that it is there still today.

I was put in a 2-year follow-up program after which I was diagnosed as gender dysphoric in 1998, then…nothing else; a hopeless emptiness. Surgeries were not available; for reasons I don’t know first hand, after that first surgery there wasn’t another one for years, maybe until 2008 and hormones were only available to a select group that had been living as women for years. Hair removal was a pipedream.

Sex reassignment surgeries were restored in Cuba, years after I established in Canada, by then Mariela Castro Espin, daughter of Raul Castro, current president of Cuba, was the Director of the CENESEX.

Mariela Castro Espin. Director of the CENESEX

Mi situacion migratoria con Cuba//My immigration situation with Cuba

Ahora que mi transicion llego a su fin me diriji a la Embajada de Cuba en Ottawa para preguntar que tenia que hacer para tener un pasaporte cubano con mi nuevo nombre y genero. Los cubanos que vivimos en el extranjero solo podemos regresar de visita con un pasaporte cubano, independientemente de cualquier otra ciudadania que hayamos obtenido. Una funcionaria me dijo que tenia que dirigirme al Consulado de Cuba en Toronto, lo que hice; hable con el consul y el no me supo dar una respuesta.

Le envie un correo a Mayra Rodriguez Lauzurrique, psicologa del Centro Nacional de Educacion Sexual sin lograr respuesta alguna tampoco.

Me dirigi entonces a la Lic. Zulendrys Kindelan Arias, la juridica del Centro Nacional del CENESEX e intercambie algunos mensajes con ella a lo largo de varias semanas sin que se concretara nada; me rendi momentaneamente y pasaron unos meses; le envie otro mensaje que fue respondido por el Lic. Manuel Vazquez Seijido quien me dijo que el era el nuevo juridico; primero me envio la direccion electronica de un abogado de la Consultoria Juridica Internacional que supuestamente me ayudaria pero luego de enviarle varios mensajes sin obtener respuesta me diriji de nuevo al señor Seijido quien me dijo en la ultima comunicacion el 14 de diciembre del 2011 que ya ‘tenia identificadas a las personas que podrian ayudarme’ y que ‘esperara nuevas’. El señor Seijido le envio copia de al menos uno de mis mensajes a Mariela Castro, de manera que ella esta al corriente de mi situacion.

En este momento, desgraciadamente; no puedo viajar a encontrarme con los mios en la islita querida.

MY IMMIGRATION SITUATION WITH CUBA

Now that my transition has come to an end I contacted the Cuban Embassy in Ottawa to inquire on the steps I should take to obtain a Cuban passport in my new name and gender. Cubans who live abroad can only go back to Cuba on a Cuban passport; regardless of any other citizenship they may have obtained. An embassy official told me I had to contact the Cuban Consulate in Toronto, which I did. I spoke with the consul and he had no answers to my questions.

I emailed Mayra Rodriguez Lauzurrique, a psychologist at the Cuban National Centre of Sexual Education (CENESEX), but never got a reply.

I contacted then Zulendrys Kindelan Arias, at the Legal Aid Department of the CENESEX; we exchanged a few messages without a definite answer to my concerns. I gave up momentarily and several months went by; When I emailed her again, I got a reply by a Manuel Vazquez Seijido, who said he was now in charge of the Legal Aid Department. After a brief exchange he sent me the email address of a lawyer affiliated to the International Legal Aid Office who failed to get back to me after I sent several emails to him. I got back to Mr. Seijido who told me in an email of December 14, 2011 that ‘he had identified the people that could help me’ and that I should ‘wait for news’. I have noticed that Mr. Seijido has cc’ed Mariela Castro on his emails, so that I know for a fact that she is aware of my situation.

Unfortunately, that trip to Cuba is on hold, there is nothing I wish more than getting together with my loved ones in my beloved little island.

Sex reassignment surgery in Montreal. January 31, 2011

The Montreal Clinic

Finally! The big day is around the corner! My co-workers threw me a surprise party on my last day in the office. I got a few gifts, even a vibrator!. They baked cookies with vulvas, penises and breasts on top -They all know I LOVE cookies. The receptionist baked a cake with the Cuban flag on top (The picture is on the right). It was a very emotional occasion, one I will never forget. I sent everybody an email afterwards as I didn't want to have to give a speech.

I drove to Ottawa in the morning of the 28th of January and stayed overnight with my a friend. A friend or hers drove me  to Montreal on Saturday, January 29; I was to stay at the residence behind the clinic until the morning of the 31st. The residence is an incredible mansion behind the clinic. I took the best part of the day to get acquainted with the girls who’d have their surgeries on Monday as well as others who were recovering from theirs and to meet the nursing staff. I got the biggest room in the house with a double Fowler bed. They gave me an additional electric heater as the room was a bit cold; the bedding was all white and impeccably clean. There was a flat screen TV with a built-in DVD player on the wall right in front of my bed, I had my own phone, an  alarm clock radio with a remote and a chest of drawers for my stuff; there was also a closet with clothes hangers; what I thought to be another closet was a surprisingly nice little washroom with a wash stand and shelves on both sides of it, there was a plastic goblet sealed in a plastic bag, a straw, toilet paper, fresh towels, all I needed; I unpacked and put my clothes on the hangers in the closet right away.

On Sunday I was given an enema at 4pm and one at 8pm; the only male nurse in the staff was kind enough to help, he was supersweet which made the whole procedure easier; that night I was given a razor and shaving cream to make sure the whole area was clean shaven for the surgery. I had shaved at home and it was only a matter of making sure the few little noticeable hairs were gone, that very night they told me I’d be the first in the operating room the next morning. Three of use were having the surgery and we were up by 5:30am. I could hardly sleep out of sheer excitement but made sure I had a moment with my inner self to ask myself all the big questions for the last time and the answers were the same that had brought me to Montreal. I had a last exchange with some friends via Facebook and was happy to see all the wonderfully supportive messages. A co-worker had sent me a message that brought tears to my eyes. I was ready. We were given our records and some forms to sign and walked to the clinic somewhat in disbelief. Michelle and Paige, both from the US were with me. Michelle said something about being honored to share that day with us and full of emotion, away we went.

We were shown our rooms right away, there were individual tiny safe boxes for our valuables with instructions on how to set the combination; I put my purse, my camera, watch and earrings in mine. (Of course I forgot the combination I chose which made me later freak out a bit only to find out in two minutes that the nurses had a master combination…)

Dr. Pierre Brassard

Dr. Brassard visited Paige and I in the room we were sharing shortly after we got there. He has the reputation of being one of the 3 best SRS surgeons in the world which was very reassuring; I had seen him on the internet and he is just as handsome in person; his English is absolutely correct with a strong French accent; he is also likable at first sight, the best word to describe him may be ‘intense’, he had half a smile in his eyes while talking to us and he seemed to pierce ours while talking to us, his personality is magnetic and he has a very nice demeanor that makes you feel at ease with him. He had come to introduce himself and meet us. He was wearing a very nice suit and tie. ‘I’ll see you in a bit’ he said before going upstairs into the O.R.

They put me in a gurney and took me upstairs. The place was full of people coming and going, it was rather noisy, the loud and almost barbaric Francais Quebecois echoed all over the place; Dr. Brassard came over, now dressed in the green O.R. clothing, he pulled the curtains so we had some privacy and asked: ‘Do you have any questions for me?’ (sic). I said I was somewhat afraid he wasn’t going to have enough skin to work with. ‘Let me see’ and said right away ‘Nothing to worry about’; he said it in such a way that it was impossible not to take it at face value, ‘Anything else?’ I said no and he walked away with a half smile. Then I remembered a sebaceous cyst I had in my scrotum and asked a passing nurse to call the doctor again, he was back in a millisecond and said that he’d decide what to do during the surgery.

They switched me to another gurney and had me put on a new robe; they wheeled me into the O.R. and then go on the operating table, there was a concave depression on the table and they made me rest my coxis right by the brim of it; they started an IV and made me sit to get the shot of the anesthetic on my lower back. The anesthesiologist then put me to sleep, the whole thing took less than 5 minutes.

I woke up during the surgery, all I could see was a piece of green cloth in front of me and there was a remote feeling of pulling and pushing with no pain in an area of my lower body that I couldn’t identify. I believe my legs must have been on stirrups but I couldn’t feel or see anything. The anesthesiologist noticed right away that I was awake and he asked if I was ok. I said yes and he said he’d put me back to sleep. I asked how much longer it would take and someone said in French it would be another 20 minutes. I told him it was ok in French and he asked if I was sure. I said I was.

A few minutes after I was taken to the recovery room the surgeon showed up with his big smile to say that everything had gone well and that the blood loss had been minimal (only 120 ml) I was still floating on a cloud and don’t know how I could retain the detail although I didn’t even know what 120 ml looked like. The doctor also said that the cyst was history. I said I was cold and he called a nurse who covered me with a warm electric blanket.

I guess I was in the recovery room for about an hour under close supervision and then they wheeled me back to my room, I was euphoric and incredulous, feeling emotions I wouldn’t be able to describe. The nurses kept an eye on me at all times and kept coming and going to ask how I was feeling after taking my blood pressure and feeling my pulse. They kept asking if I could move my legs; a moment I was dreading as I knew that once the anesthetic wore off I’d be in a lot of pain. I couldn’t move my legs until around 5pm. By then Paige was back from the O.R. and I could hear her turning and tossing in pain behind the curtain that separated us. I was surprised I wasn’t feeling any pain. The nurse came and asked Paige how bad was her pain in a scale from 1 to 10; she said ‘15’ and the nurse gave her some morphine. Then she asked me the same question and I said I was at zero pain; she asked me to move my legs which I did, she gave me a funny look and walked away after asking me to call her if I needed anything.

My room at the recovery home

By midnight two nurses came and asked if I thought I could stand up, I said yes without hesitation, they helped me to stand up and I was about to faint, so nauseous that it felt like I was going to die right there and then. It was only then that I started to realize the magnitude of the surgery although I was somewhat suspicious when I saw all the bloody stretchy panties that they exchanged every 2 hours. Every time I tried to take a peek at the area but all I could see were these rare bandages that didn’t let me see a thing except the catheter they had fitted me with which was draining urine and a tiny little hose that took blood from a tiny hole on the lower part of my abdomen to a tiny flask hanging on the side of the bed, the nurses emptied the flask every time they replaced the panties. Every time I asked if everything was ok and they said everything was ok. We didn’t get any food that day; I started asking the nurse in French: ‘Where is the pizza?’ and her answer was always the same; she pointed out to my IV and said ‘there is your pizza’ I pretended to be very unhappy with the answer and she would laugh.

On February 1 in the morning a very nice lady came to ask what we’d like for breakfast ‘Are you serious?’ I asked, and then took her smile as a yes. I ordered cereal and milk, a whole grain toast with peanut butter and strawberry jam, yogourt and apple juice. I ate it all but two hours later I felt like I was dying. I ended up vomiting which means that I puked on myself, on the bedding, on my robe, on everything… then the hospital SWAT team showed up and with military precision lifted me, changed the bedding, changed my robe and left me all perfumed and clean, it was hard to believe. At lunch time, an hour later, I only ordered chicken stew and Jell-o, I had learned my lesson from an hour earlier,  thank God, no problem this time. The nurses kept coming back to ask if I was up for a little walk, I kept trying but every time I started to feel like fainting, I even became so nauseous at some point, while in bed, that I thought I’d need the SWAT people back, fortunately, a wet towel on my forehead while inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth did the trick after a few minutes. It was only at around midnight that I was able to stand up and walk twice around the reception area! This seemed to be impossible only a few hours earlier. What I didn’t know was that this walk was the ticket back to the mansion behind the clinic; they took me back the next morning.

The recovery home

Paige was in so much pain that she required several morphine shots, she had to deal with the same nausea and vomiting that prompted the SWAT team to act. This time I had a chance to see the clockwork ritual with more amazement than before. Michelle had to be taken back to the O.R. as she started bleeding profusely and they had to redo her stitching; she lost so much blood that there was talk of a transfusion she ended up not getting, fortunately.

On Wednesday morning they took us back in wheel chairs to the residence under a heavy snowfall; we were sitting on a rubber donut that was to be our best friends for several weeks. When I made it to the residence there was so much snow on me that it was close to needing to brush it all off with one of those car snow brushes. This was actually good as the snow reanimated me.

Living room at the recovery home

 Before heading for the recovery home they took the catheter bag out, the drainage hose and the IV, this meant we had to stand up to pee through the rubber hose, feeling really strange about not being able to squeeze the bladder with the corresponding muscles, it was now a matter of going to the washroom every two hours, take a little plug off the hose and stand there to let the urine flow drop by drop till the end when the muscles seemed to spasm for a moment which caused a sizzling nose on the rubber hose and a bit or a burning sensation in an area I couldn’t define. I still couldn’t see the result of the surgery as the bandages were stitched to the skin making it impossible and tantalizing…

I spent most of the day in bed on Thursday, trying to take short walks to be somewhat active, the trips to the washroom and the application of ice on the area helped too. The ice machine was all the way to the end of the hall which forced me to walk that far. I didn’t seem to have any signs of inflammation…then on Friday the nurse took part of the bandage off along with who knows how many stitches, she was very careful and it wasn’t that bad but that’s when the inflammation started to set in, I had every shade of blue start to cover the lower abdominal area and part of my thighs. The surface of the blue areas was very tender. That was also the day of my first bowel movement, the nurses seemed obsessive in their follow-up of bowel movements and we were supposed the keep them up to date with every one of them. Prune juice was a fixture on the table for breakfast, lunch and dinner; one of the girls started calling it jus de poo-poo and we all started calling it that. We were also given these yellow pills to help with the bowel movements. I had no problems the first time, the second time was only two hours later but it was only liquid.

Saturday was pretty much the same; on Sunday morning the stem the surgeon had inserted in my neovagina was scheduled to come out. It turned out to be like a giant bloody sausage made up by something wrapped up in gauze and then put inside what appeared to be a condom; it looked huge and having it out was quite a relief as the stitches that kept it in place were impossible to avoid from pricking when sitting. About an hour after the stem was out I had my first dilation. I had been given a set of 4 dilators with ascending diameters, these dilators look like dildos and were of a different color each. The nurse helped me introduce the thinner one for 5 minutes and then # 2 for 15 minutes, I was lucky, it wasn’t painful. Relaxing was key and the absence of pain made it easier although it was really messy; the vaginal walls swell after the stent is out and that makes dilation a challenging proposition but I was ok. The nurse took all the time in the world. Taking the dilator out meant dealing with a mixture of fragments of tissue, blood clots, blood and the gel we had to use on the dilator. Not a pretty sight. The first dilation is followed by a vaginal douche which is done with a flexible plastic bottle with a nozzle you have to insert all the way in while standing, then you have to squeeze hard and clean the neovagina. The cleaning liquid is a combination of distilled water and white vinegar. Sitz baths follow…yup, it’s very busy and draining from there on with all the fun stuff going on. At the end of the day if feels better than the previous day and the bleeding diminishes from day to day, I was also feeling stronger with every passing day

On the 7th. (Monday) they finally took the catheter out; it hurt like hell, it was also sewn into my skin and the nurse didn’t realize the catheter was still attached by a stitch and attempted to pull it out. I couldn’t help but screaming; I think that was, by far, the most painful moment. From that moment on I had the nurses asking me obsessively about peeing, they gave me a funny-looking receptacle with measurements that I was supposed to show them every single time I peed. No fun.

The first time I finally saw my new anatomy on one of the big mirrors in one of the washrooms, I couldn’t help but starting to cry ouf of happiness; it was hard to believe that I was finally on the outside the person I have always been inside, PURE HAPPINESSSSS!

The nurse told me that the neovagina would bleed for 4-8 more weeks and that it might even bleed longer; she referred to this as my ‘first and last period’. I have cried a lot when by myself in my room, I have cherished every single emotion. Michelle, Paige and I are now part of a sisterhood that doesn’t seem easy to destroy, we are beautifully close. Michelle keeps joking about tattooing ‘Made in Montreal’ on her labia for everybody’s laughter and enjoyment. Saying our goodbyes was a very emotional moment.

My friends and co-workers kept calling to check on me. I got the most beautiful postcard signed by everybody in the office as well as flowers and stuffed animals. The nurses kept asking who I was and that just maybe they should take my autograph 'just in case'. Emails were sent around at work so that people knew how I was doing. On the first day of the dilations the supervisors in the local branch of the company I work for called to come see me but I told them it would be a really busy day. It was. The day before the surgery an employee of the company who lives and works in Montreal came over to meet me personally. I was overwhelmed with the attention and the nice gestures from everybody.

It was an unbearably long trip to Ottawa, under an incredible snowfall; there were a few accidents on the highway and the trip took us 4 hours instead of the usual 2, I was a mess when we made it home, the blue areas in my lower abdomen and thighs was really tender and painful, sitting for that many hours didn’t help. I felt better after a warm bath.

I had been released in the morning but my friend couldn’t pick me up that early; another friend who lives in Montreal picked me up at 11am and took me to her place where I managed to take a nap and even had a chance to dilate. My friend from Ottawa left Ottawa at 3pm but didn’t make it to my friend’s place until 7:30pm; she got lost several times and the GPS didn’t help her at all.

We made it to Ottawa at midnight. We ordered pizza by phone and went to bed at 1:30am. I'll stay in Ottawa, at my friend's place for 2-3 weeks; I guess I'll feel strong enough to drive back home after that. Thank God, everything is alright. Life is good!