Crossdressing Memories Chapter 7

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]

Four days ago I fainted though felt the pain to my side as soon as I hit the floor. It took more than three hours before I was able to prop my legs and use only my right arm to pull myself up to a standing position. Yes, I did have fairly close access to one of those emergency call buttons but opted not to use it except as a last resort. A few months from my 92^nd birthday you could call me a stubborn old man but it was much much more than that for not wanting to call an ambulance. Let me first set the stage.

With relatives and friends all passed I live alone in a large apartment complex — not even knowing my next door neighbor. I make it a habit to dress in full mode every day. When mounting my wheelchair to make a trip to the community post boxes or the large dumpster I wear less makeup and don a pants and tank top outfit; while otherwise it is a dress or skirt for it is more comfortable — try to blend in you know. You should note that the Julie persona is front and center except for my visits to the West Palm Beach VA Medical Center and  in the few times I meet with my landlord. There is a major hospital, the JFK Medical Center a few blocks away while the VA is twenty-five miles. Whenever I had been forced to use the JFK facilities I could anticipate at least ten bills from ten different services to show up within the following year. It seems that there is a separate legal entity formed for every step of the process: emergency room, EKG, X-Rays, pulmonary, blood tests, Cat scan, the hospital facilities, and on and on. Sure Medicare pays the majority of the outrageous charges but still leaves a huge co-pay. That is the main reason I choose the VA facilities. So what’s my problem?

Had mentioned above my daily routine is to fully dress up. On the night in question it was 11 p.m. and I had just changed to my sleeping apparel. Previously I’ve worn night gowns but found that I would get tangled up — interfering with already difficult sleeping problems. I had discovered that an all-in-one (tucked) worked the best with baby-dolls a distant second. Oh yes, at 6 p.m. that evening I had made a great Margarita and at 8 p.m. taken six different pills including a recently prescribed one that has done a wonderful job reducing body spasms (From WWII bomber crash.) I was still at that late hour (11 p.m.) wearing makeup plus nail polish on toes and fingers. And Chanel No. 5. Then, at 11 p.m., I had taken my last pill -– a sleeping pill. Mistake! Was not yet ready for bed but should have been before that sleeping pill. Mixing pain and sleeping pills with liquor can be deadly!

As soon as I was able to move my body and limbs after falling, I was able to determine that there were no obvious breaks — giving me the luxury to spend three hours to find a way to get up. You see, before heading via 911 to the VA I needed to remove my makeup and at least my fingernail polish. Decided to leave my socks on as once before I was able to get through a doctor’s exam without removing my shoes and revealing my nail polish. Did I explain why I don’t want to go to VA Hospital en femme? They have over seventy years of records on me so what purpose would it serve to try to explain why I’ve been a crossdresser all that time? There is no one explanation available in the first place.

Finally a call to the triage nurse, on duty 24/7, convinced me to at least go to the ER to find out if I had cracked a rib — my side was, and still is, hurting like hell.

I’ll wind up this part of the story quickly as the purpose of this narrative has not yet been reached. In the early morning hours the medics wheeled me in. Wouldn’t you know it? First thing the nurse told me was to remove my shoes and socks “So I can put on these “non-slip socks.” I told her to leave them be  as hospital socks don’t have the necessary give and make my feet swell faster — happens to be true. For the next four hours during X-Rays and Cat-scans various aides also tried to pull my socks off but I prevailed. A positive note however. Haven’t cut my hair in many months so my silver curly hair comes down to my shoulders. Combing and putting into curlers provides a very new and titillating experience for me. A few VA personnel commented how much they admired my hair but not one derogatory remark. If I had done that as a teenager, eons ago, I would have been beaten up.

What does all the above lead up to? How do these events relate to you?

Two years ago I was in a tail spin, heading to death, due to becoming over medicated by VA doctors trying to mitigate pain I was having at that time. Hallucinations and weekly trips to local ERs to be patched up due to passing out frequently had me counting days before I would be injured fatally. Chronicled that story in two blogs In Myths, Fallacies and Most Therapists Without a Clue. At that time I tried to put into words the options, or lack of choices, all crossdressers have at the end of their lives — be it at an early age or far later. The events four days ago brought home to me, again, the need to plan. Before I enumerate them some readers will react by saying: “When I’m dead I no longer care.” Maybe that’s your honest opinion. Maybe, provided you are single with no close family. Or is that comment just an excuse for delaying needed planning, for vacillating? Don’t care? Really?

Continued next month.

Tags: crossdressing, featured, old age

Category: Transgender Body & Soul