Diary

Last year I had a sex change and an operation in our local hospital. No, it is not what you think! This is an operation, not the operation. That one is still in the distant future. This time I was in hospital for a different problem: hemorrhoids. Several attempts have been made to cure me in a less intrusive way. They put little rubber bands around the base of some of the hemorrhoids. These then die because the circulation of blood is stopped and they disappear within a few weeks. The procedure of placing these rubber bands did give me some experience with the gynecological position even before I am officially a woman. If you trust your doctor it is not as bad as it seems.

I am living full-time as a woman, so I always came to the hospital dressed in a feminine way. But when it was my turn the nurse always called for Mister Snel. Very embarrassing in a full waiting-room! She noticed my problem and she told me I could easily have my punch card altered so that it would have an 'F' on it instead of an 'M'.
I didn't know it was that simple, but she was right. We went to the desk where the punch cards and made and I politely asked to have it changed.
"Sure, no problem", said the lady: "But I'll have to put in a reason for the change."
"Can't you simply put 'transsexual'?"
"I can do that. Are you sure you want that in your records?"
"Yes, please do it!"
So that was all. Within five minutes I got my sex change at the hospital. Without any fuss. Without anesthetic. Without any pain.
From that day on my name was called out as Mrs. Snel. A great improvement!

Normally the treatment with rubber bands is sufficient, but it didn't work for me. So the doctors gave up on that idea and decided I needed an operation. A complete ring of material would have to be removed from my intestine. I will try to see this as a kind of 'dress rehearsal' for my 'real' operation...
I was quite nervous about what ward they would put me in. I do have an 'F' on my punch card, but I was still afraid that the other women in a women's ward would see me as an intruder. And having to be in a men's ward would have made me feel very out-of-place. But it turns out this hospital has mainly mixed wards, so there was no problem at all!
When I arrived the nurse asked me how I would like to be addressed, so after that I was consistently ma'am-ed all the time. Very nice! I got a place in a ward with two other women. The fourth bed in the ward was not occupied.
I was operated the same day and the next morning I was allowed to leave the hospital already. But I did have to stay until all administration had been sorted out. So I witnessed the arrival of the patient who was to occupy the fourth bed in our room. "Yes, you will be in a ladies only ward", the doctor who took her in said reassuringly. The guy, who had come along with her to bring her to the hospital looked quite suspiciously in my direction. I don't think he really believed this to be a women's ward... So be it. If he doesn't understand it, he'll just have to admire it, as we say in Holland.

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Julia had taken me to work by car, so I had to return home by bus. From a long way away I could hear I wouldn't be alone at the bus stop. There was a guy with a skate board there and he was obviously bored. I knew he was going to bother me. So what should I do? Walk on to the next bus stop? I don't think so!

It turned out to be a seven year old. He was making quite a lot of noise for his age. But now he devoted his attention to me. He was showing off some acts of braveness on his skate board and he told me that soon, on his 8th birthday he would get a new surf board.
Well, I think it was high time he got a new one, because his board didn't look very good any more. The paint had come off at several edges and the bearings seemed to be worn out too, because it wouldn't even roll smoothly down a slope any more.
Of course he was trying to get me to talk, to find out whether I was a man or a woman, but I wasn't in for playing any games, so I even talked to him spontaneously. I said: "I hope one of these new busses will come. A Phileas. I would love to have a ride in one of those..."
"O jeah, the grey ones. Those are okay. No in America I have seen a bus that was all gold-colored..."

After a few minutes of chatting he was convinced I was a man, so he asked: "Why are you wearing women's clothing?"
"Because I like it", I said: "I feel much more at ease like this."
"Ah, so that's why", he said: "You know, on my birthday I will get a surf board with much better wheels!"
Yes, he knew exactly what he wanted. Well, almost. He still had to decide what print he would like most on the bottom side of the board. There was a choice between a print of a motorcycle, jumping a building or a couple of dice. I thought the motorcycle was much more suitable for a surf board and so I told him, but he was still undecided.

Eventually a bus arrived. It was not a Phileas, but a normal, boring city bus. I took it anyway, because all this was taking too much of my time. Today it took me a whole hour to travel the distance I usually do in twenty minutes on my bicycle. But still it was a nice experience to have met this little guy. I can explain what is the matter with me in a few words and that is all he needs to know. Then he switches the subject back to what interests him: Surf boards.

I wish all people were like him!

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