The surgery

It didn't happen.

Claire has severe anxiety attacks about medical procedures, requiring a xanex and a couple of days of preparing herself mentally to just get blood drawn.

The surgeon and anesthesiologist both reassured us that she would be treated with consideration (trans) and treated for anxiety - by having a dose of versed waiting for her when she walked in the door. I warned them both that if they made her wait a few minutes sitting around the panic attack would happen.

So... we got there, and Claire has dry heaves and is terrified to leave the parking garage, when an orderly saw us and asked if we needed an assist. I said we did and he helped coax her in. She made it through the ER, to the 7th floor, and to admitting, where the orderly TOLD the nurse there that the patient was in distress and he had to help us in. I informed her that this was the panic attack patient, and we were supposed to have a pill ready for us for her to take immediately so she could calm down before going to pre-op, and one that would be enough to get IV and everything started.

Well, we got attitude. "I'm not HIS nurse". A call to the real nurse, and a summons to follow down the hall, where we passed people sleeping (pre-op prepped) and were put into a PRE-OP room with an IV stand and a bed, had a gown and slippers tossed onto the bed and were told "everything off, gown on".

I stormed out and demanded that someone get the damn pill. I was told that "they didn't have the chart" and "knew nothing about any pill". I warned them that they would blow the surgery if they didn't get the doc on the phone and medicate her asap.

I went back to claire, trying to get her to focus her breathing, but after 2 minutes went back out only to find neither nurse on the phone or getting a chart. I asked what the holdup was and was told to be patient because they were going to have to "walk across the street and get it".

Back and forth 3 more times. On the last time, I went back to the pre op room (room 13 by the way - big ass 13 printed on the wall) only to find Claire *gone*.

I went out and told the nurse that they were too damn late (15 minutes now had passed) and that she was gone. The nurse's response? "who's 'she'?"

I would have punched her had I not been terrified that Claire was lying in shock in some hallway somewhere. I said "Claire, the HIGH ANXIETY patient that I TOLD you we were running out of time on".

"So he's gone?"

Had it. Pissed off beyond belief. Went tearing out of the building, couldn't find her. Told security that a patient having a panic attack was wandering around somewhere. Finally found her outside the ER building, across the street, sitting on a low wall almost catatonic.

Called my mom, who got a cab and came over. A nurse finally came down (30 minutes after the fact) and said that they had the pill ready now, but she had to go back upstairs to take it. Claire was way past responding. We begged and pleaded, but nothing would get her back in there.

So, basically, Claire has been beating herself up all day and crying uncontrollably at her "failure". Our daughter, here on emergency leave from Iraq, is in trouble with her paperwork.

And me? I'm so fucking pissed off at a hospital that we were assured would be prepared for a patient diagnosed with panic disorder. And to add in the anti-trans stuff to boot, really, really pissed me off.

I'm exhausted, had 3 hours of sleep last night, so forgive the rant, please.

it's here.

I just had the love of my life collapse crying in my arms. This is so incredibly scary even for someone without severe panic attacks, I just can't even imagine how my beloved feels right now.

I think she's incredibly brave, and stronger than she thinks. My mom and daughter are ready to help her recover, and we'll be taking good care of her.

My heart, however, is breaking at the moment.

Thank you everyone, for helping support her. I'll keep you posted tomorrow. Surgery starts at 8:30 (eastern).

Love,

Annie

Another day down

We had a nice day at the mall and then the farmer's market. Kind of took Claire's mind off things while she and kiddo tortured and harassed me into buying a pair of jeans.

$60!!!!! They couldn't even pick a pair on sale? I never, ever buy anything at retail. To make matters worse, they are Tommy Hilfiger, a brand I *swore* I would never, ever wear. Oh, I feel I just sold my soul to Macy's.

They were merciless. And what's more, kiddo took the receipt so I can't return them!

Luckily, I was able to dodge the Sephora makeover they planned...

Looks like Monday morning Claire not only gets bloodwork done, she also gets an EKG and will meet with the anesthesiologist to discuss what can be done to medicate Claire enough to let her squash her severe anxiety enough to actually get her there.

Not sure what the plan is tomorrow, right now seems like it will be a movie day at home.

Thanks for tuning in.

Annie

Counting down...

Just a very brief update as we close in on surgery day.

Kiddo arrived home from Iraq last night. Claire's *really* starting to stress.

I'm getting into the mode of trying to get everything arranged - overseeing mom coming in, changing the car headlight for her, making sure Claire's questions are answered about stuff, getting a futon for kiddo to sleep on... which is strangely calming.

The dog has allergies bad now, so I have to work in a medicated shampoo for him this weekend too. Glad kiddo is here to help.

Annie

July 2nd draws nigh.

Just a quick update.

Things are definitely careening at us pretty quickly now. As I write this, kiddo is in Germany, preparing to fly home. She'll be here tomorrow, for at least 6 weeks. Thanks to the Red Cross and her CO for getting her home for us.

Claire is hanging in there. She's quite calm, in a way, but I think she's drawing on years on suppressing emotions.

As for me, I'm hanging in there. My mom is coming up July 1st, and honestly, I'm glad she'll be here. Fearful thoughts keep trying to invade, but so far I'm keeping them at bay.

Annie

The Big One... telling the best friend

Claire left her best friend behind in England 8 years ago. They had limited contact back and forth for 5 years or so, and then stopped.

Well, the best friend emailed the other day to see how his old mate was doing in America. He had noticed that some information about 'James' had been taken offline. Wanted to know what was up.

So, we talked and talked, and talked some more instead of sleeping that night. Decided to email him and tell him the story, and she tried to come to terms with the fact that the best friend she loved like a brother wouldn't laugh at her or attack her. It was a very scary thing, because these two were best mates for quite a long time.

With family already excommunicated, he was really her last happy tie to England.

The next day, she sent a long email off basically telling him she is a transwoman. For hours, we waited for a response back from England.

When it finally came, he said it didn't matter to him. He said he'd always thought that she was a bit effeminate, and laughed and said 'who knows, had you been born in the right body we might even be married today'. He then told her he always loved her like a brother, and now he'll love her as his sister.

He went on to say that he's apologizing in advance for screwing up and saying the wrong gender or name. In short, he confirmed that he is an wonderful friend and kind human being. It's only been a couple of days but his stance is that bodies don't matter, just what's inside.

I adore happy endings.

Peace and Love,

Annie

Of MRIs and Surgeons

We went for Claire's MRI yesterday. We chose MRI because it wouldn't involve contrast, and therefore no needles. Well, after an hour of MRI stuff ( they let me stay in there with her during it) they came in and said they needed a contrast agent. It was just a butterfly needle and although you could see the panic attack trying to happen, Claire fought it off and went with it. I'm so proud of her :)

On a funny note, a young tech asst was setting her up with earplugs and asked the MRI operator if "mom needed to be given a pair too?" The woman looked at the tech and said "That's not her MOM, that's her PARTNER" which made Claire and I bust out giggling. The poor young tech didn't GET it and called me her mom again later. I was glad it happened though, because Claire needed to giggle and relax a bit, and hey, I can take a joke ;)

Yesterday late afternoon the surgeon called and said it isn't vascular, so it's not the aorta. Big sigh of relief. His best guess right now (since this is not a normal presentation of any of the possibilities) is that she has a thymoma, cancer of the thymus gland. Most cases are non-invasive, so kind of classed as a benign issue, since surgery removes it completely. Because of the massive size (my god, the MRI pictures really put it in focus, this bastard takes up 1/3 of
her chest cavity on the right side) it is hard to read if anything else is affected, because it is pushing arteries and a lung out of the way. http://www.lifesteps.com/gm/Atoz/ency/thymoma.jsp

The type of surgery used for open heart will still be needed - split the sternum and open the ribs - and my poor phobic sweetheart is having a rough time. So, although the news isn't perfect, at least we're getting there.

Oh yeah, and the dog had to have emergency surgery Monday night. The dog is now fine and whiny as ever. Just like me. *grin*

Annie