Thursday, 7 June 2012

You Can't Always Get What You Want

I landed last night and feel as if my head has been spinning ever since.

My last days in Vietnam were a bit difficult.  When I returned from Halong Bay to Hanoi I started to feel a bit unwell. My last night there was memorable for all the wrong reasons.  I had stomach cramps, temperature spikes and an achy unwell feeling coupled off with a night on the toilet. I went over 12 times and felt rotten.

I had some coca cola and Berocca and ate super plane before going to Singapore where we stayed in the most amazing hotel ever! We got upgraded as well which was a doubly nice thing to happen. In Singapore I ate very plain but clean food.

It was a shame we were only there for a matter of hours as it's a very interesting place, and one that I would like to go back and visit.  Especially for the food.  It is a melting pot of Asian influences and cultures.

I loved the buzz of Maxwell Market which was advised to us by the Singaporean family that we were on the cruise with.

It's also dirt cheap and not filled with tourists which made me very happy.

The rice also made it so I could hold that food down and fly ok the following day.

I have had electrolytes and some tablets but if nothing changes soon I will have to have a trip to the doctors.

I can't quite shake off the listless and out of sorts feeling I have.

I feel stuck between time zones and just don't feel myself.

Upon returning to a cold, rainy and rather gloomy feeling UK (the Jubilee party seemed to zap everyone's energy this weekend) I got a letter back from the PCT.

They have declined to fund my chest surgery. My GP wrote to me and attached the letter and has said that she is appealing their decision and assured me that every document that discussed my case and gender was enclosed with her application.

Only it seems that they aren't keen on funding me on the basis that it would be a private operation and apparently they are willing to accept other information which in their words:

"Should you feel that there is additional clinical information which would demonstrate that this patient is significantly different to the cohort of males with a similar condition, or that would demonstrate that this patient would have a considerably greater health benefit from this intervention, you would be welcome to re-submit an IFR application on the grounds of exceptionality which would be viewed by a full IFR panel".

In all my records it clearly states from assessments had with psychiatrists that having a large chest size causes me distress, and that since being a teenager is something I have never liked.  It's also a bit bonkers for them to think that me having a chest that is DD size would actually want to keep my breasts.

All my records state that I hate having them so what more evidence do they want.  Shall I just send them a picture and remind them that page 3 size on a bloke is wrong...if it isn't his choice to have them.

It is fate being a cruel thing to afflict those who hate breasts on them with large ones when there are people who would love massive ones.

Every day I feel like a failure because they are still there.  I can't stand having to hide them and hide in changing rooms and constantly think of concealment and if I did a good enough job if someone glances on my chest. The way I have to dress in a changing room is a bit odd, especially if there is nowhere secluded. Men will comfortably take off their shirts and change more as I can't in this setting which limits some of the sporting activities I would like to do.

I hate having to creep around and avoid being detected and feel repulsed by having a something that is literally stuck to me. It's unbearable sometimes and right now is one of those times.

Since experiencing massive discomfort whilst being away, it has galvanised to me that they really do have to go. I feel really tense at the thought of spending another year wearing a binder. I don't want to have to bind for 4 years.

The more male I become hormonally, the more I feel trapped in a body that isn't quite fully my own.  Being a planner, having a set back makes me anxious.

I will be assisting in the appeal by writing a personal statement, writing a letter to MP, having follow up appointment with my GP (she is away until 11th when I have an appointment) and I also have my next Charing Cross appointment coming up on the 20th, someone who works in LGBT mental health has offered to write a supporting statement for me and counsellor has also agreed to write a letter too so hopefully these elements shall help.

I am also reviewing what my legal position is within this is another rejection happens.  As there was an anomaly on the form.  My doctor requested a masectomy and is titled with what was requested yet the document keeps referring to a 'male breast reduction' which is a bit open to interpretation in the form of are they reading this as a cis-male wanting a moobjob?

Yet it states I was assessed under the transgender protocol to which I fit that criteria that the protocol is saying it is looking for. Hence why there is a bit of confusion and even my doctor said herself in her letter to me that she was surprised about the outcome and has lodged an appeal straight away.

She assured me a while ago that she would fight on my behalf and it seems she is true to her word on things, but we'll see how the next round pans out.

On the 22nd of this month I have an appointment to see the surgeons nurse as well so this shouldbe interesting.  They have told me that the PCTs cause delays to processes all the time so not to be too shocked if this happens.

It still sucks though and I feel crap on the back of this. My options are right now keep fighting and hopefully get funded or come up with around 7 grand. I don't want to take loans or have debt if I can avoid it as when I was younger I had debt problems and I hate anything that reminds me of that time.

I can't bear feeling like this. All my energy has been wiped out in a single blow.  But it shall return and I don't think feeling physically under the weather or having jet lag is helping this either.

There has also been other news too and that is someone who is very close to me shall be moving overseas and this will be a lot sooner than I expected.

It will be a great opportunity for them and there are many pluses to it.  I see that and I don't have any side of me saying to them "don't go" because if I was in their shoes I would do exactly what they are doing.

There is just a strange feeling I have emerging that now I sort of will be alone.  Even though I am surrounded by people, the closeness I have with this person is different.  I have known them all of my life so therefore it will be different.

But at the same time I know how I operate.  I am already starting to process. It has just taken me by surprise slightly and that is all it is. 

I will have a wonderful new place to visit, just a pity that it isn't on an Easyjet flight path. For the hours rather than the cost...honest!

Life does change though, that is something my transition has taught me and change is sometimes a scsary thing but at he same time if you don't push yourself or even test your own boundaries then life would be very boring.

As long as someone cares for themselves and is making positive actions in their lives and others I don't see what the issue is with shaking things up once in a while.  Especially if it means a person will be happier as a result.

I have spent too many years in an unhappy state and therefore I will strive at everything I can to be as happy as possible and to live as positive a life as I can.

I don't want to be seen as someone who constantly needs looking after or supported all the time. That isn't me.  I appreciate the support I have received as well as the kindness and love people have bestowed upon me as well. I think it's important not to forget things like this either.

Especially on a day like today where it's easy to slip into the habit of thinking the world is bleak and horrible because on a grander scale of things it isn't.

It's just not ideal circumstances right now.

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