Transition, Life, Cancer and Me
I’ve not written in a while. Life has a way of getting in the way of things. I’ve taken on a more active role in a support organization (Trans-cendence International), had an affair (I hurt someone and was hurt), got Cancer, and had my appendix out.
So where to begin. Cancer. I’ve had issues with breathing and cough that wouldn’t go away. So I went to see the doctor who gave me a ton of antibiotics. They helped at first but then gradually the cough didn’t go away and stayed. So we followed up with an X-ray which led to a C.A.T. scan, then an endoscopic biopsy. The biopsy wasn’t bad. I was out for it. The fifteen minute procedure turned into a two hour procedure. Then they couldn’t identify the cells that were cancerous. So they sent it out and we got a diagnosis of Diffuse B-cell lymphoma a white blood cell cancer. Still researching cancer but it’s a blanket term for when they’re not entirely sure what it is. Luckily the cancer is treatable but I’ve not been staged yet. That’s my biggest stressor. I guess I’m not so scared of dying, it’s more not knowing and leaving my kids and my partner behind that scares me. My oldest kid is a train wreck with depression and being on the spectrum. Not to mention compulsion issues. My youngest is sweet, he’s just so young. I fear all the birthdays and milestones in his life I would miss. That hurts the most.
So I’m keeping it together. My oldest brought home COVID from highschool. Keller and our wonderfully obtuse Republican Governor Greg fucking Abbot banned mask mandates in schools. (Because keeping kids safe is un-American) So the new variant is spreading like wildfire through the masses of ignorant Texans like fire along cheap bar matches. Luckily I had my booster but the additional stress makes breathing a little more labored but not bad so I have to focus on relaxation and finding my center. I try to meditate two or three times a day and focus on a positive future. It’s hard to do so when you don’t know what your future holds. In the words of Leon from Blade Runner, “It’s painful to live in fear, it’s like having an itch you can’t scratch”. Literally my white blood cells won’t die and their cell death or lack of it is what’s killing me. Trying to understand the genetics of it so I can have my cancer genetically typed to maybe find the differential errors in replication. The oncologist is hesitant but fuck him. I need to know what went wrong. Is it environmental or is it a genetic trait I may pass on to my kids. My aunt died of mysterious lung cancer and I theorize that the estrogen might be a trigger to something causing the change. I’m hoping for something more “robust” like CAR-T therapy which uses the immune system to target the mutated cells. There’s some literature that a protein PD-L1 might interact in the cell to inhibit cell death of the tumor cells.
So I’m looking and learning to try to educate myself on the disease that I have.
Life has been depressing and fighting it a daily activity. So far I’ve done pretty well. It’s difficult to do so but I have to keep a positive outlook. It may be the only thing keeping me alive. One of the strange things with positivity my “libido” increases when you think you might die. There’s definitely been that increase. I think it ties to feelings of not feeling “good” enough as a woman. I seek out objectification from others so that I may be assured I’m cute. It’s a strange reaction to be sure. I’m not entirely sure where it came from but then I’ve never had to face my mortality so much in the here and now.
It could also be a reaction to New Years. My secondary partner and I stopped seeing each other after that night.
My primary and I separated this fall. It was my choice but we had been fighting for a while and this summer was very hard for me. It’s not an excuse and what I did was my fault. I did cheat on her, going outside of the relationship without her consent. I hurt her deeply and for that I’ll always be sorry.
I met someone and had an affair with them. I enjoyed their company immensely. Relationships are different when you’re trans. When you meet another trans person because so much of who you are can connect to your identity. I always wanted after coming out to try a poly relationship. For me I could love multiple people. During the summer my partner found out about the affair and I broke it off. We had been in marriage therapy for almost two years. It wasn’t working and most of the sessions I felt worse off than when we started. I just felt we wanted very different things. We tried to fix things. I think things only got worse. After the separation I reconnected with the person. It hurt my primary immensely and I always felt bad about that. At the same time I wanted to have an experience with a trans person. The person I was with warned me not to get too connected or too emotionally attached. I defied her warnings. To be honest I don’t know what it was I saw in her. She has a bright sparkly personality, she’s artistic, and good at whatever she does. The downsides are her depression sometimes, or her inward facing self.
I remember when I told her there was a good chance I had cancer she was focused on some stuff on her end that happened work related. Granted it did suck but I was struggling with my mortality. I just comforted her. That was the second red flag. I won’t go into the first.
The third and final flag was New Years. I was going to have my biopsy soon and it was New Years Eve. I was going to spend it with her and some friends of hers and bring my son. It turned into a kids only event. That or they didn’t want a new person there I don’t know. I just remember her telling me I couldn’t go, but I could see her Sunday. I was crushed. I reiterated that I might not be here next New Years because I just didn’t know. It was important to me. I think after that I realized we meant different things to each other. I was willing to blow three hundred or more for hotel rooms as her roommates were going to be home. I just wish she had communicated with me so we could have talked. In the end I questioned what I meant to her as this might be it for me. After that I just didn’t feel like I was anything more than a good time. That one decision hurt me immensely. The weird thing was I never got angry, I knew the risks of interacting with her. I guess I just felt hurt and letting go is part of that hurt. Maybe I blamed myself. I have good memories. What if a story is great and the ending is horrible, does that change the nature of the story? I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t understand and needed to be a priority that night. A priority I would never be in her life.
I think that hurt me enough and when I mentioned the word polyamorous she said it sounded too much like a relationship that I had to walk away. She has her own pain to deal with. I just can’t be there anymore for her after that. It hurts too much.
With the cancer diagnosis in hand, my primary partner and I have come to a reconciliation. I just don’t know how much time I have. The cancer is treatable but that’s not a guarantee. I was always open with her that I loved her and someone else. I wanted to love more than one person. When you transition it’s a strange thing. Your entire world changes in a way. You accept those things in you that you wanted but were afraid to realize. I guess in a way I was always a little jealous of some of the polyamorous folks. I was jealous of a lot of things. Part of transition is letting go and learning who you are and taking those steps to finish your growth. I just did it in a shitty way.
Growing up in high school and middle school I was always bisexual and transgender I was just too afraid to express it. Now I can be open. This journey has brought me closer to my partner at least. We don’t know how long I have. So I have to treat every minute like it’s my last. That’s been a nice metaphor to live with. Things change when the future isn’t certain. When the future is a shaky rope bride you perilously cross. I am happy that if I die I will die as a woman. I would never change that. Not in a million years. I choose to die as a proud fierce woman, than the scared man hiding I was all those years. It’s terrifying to be who you are sometimes. After the fear of coming out recedes you have to decide how you fly or how you crash. Succumb to the hand biology has dealt us or take the hand and play it to it’s nth degree.
GOONIES NEVER SAY DIE!
