The obligatory GRS Post

Typical me, writing about something nearly 4 months after it happened.

Well, I’ve done it. Or to be more precise, they did it to me. I had my GRS (genital reconstruction surgery) on the 26th of July 2017 performed by the wonderful Phil Thomas In the Nuffield Hospital in Brighton.

This post is where (if I were to follow tradition) I would be gushing about how I’m now complete, it’s the start of my new life or the nauseating “I’m a woman now” or “my birthday is now the date of my grs.” Don’t get me started about all that, particularly the latter 2.

Anyway, so how do I feel? I still feel amazed that it has happened, and it makes me smile every time I see the result. I now finally have the downstairs bits that I should have been born with, which is truly wonderful. Something that has been deformed for a very long time has finally been fixed.

Apart from that, I feel a sense of relief that I have finally jumped through all the GIC’s hoops and I’ve made it out the other side. As for feeling complete, I can’t say I do. My voice still sounds terrible as I have done nothing about it for ages. Also, if this was an ideal world, some working eyes would be lovely. However, even those things wouldn’t make me feel complete, simply because I believe that, as humans, I don’t think we ever are. That’s just how it is.

My GRS hasn’t changed me as a person; How could it? The surgeon was operating nowhere near my brain. I didn’t put off things that I wanted to do until I had my GRS, instead I just got on with them beforehand.

I’ve read a few posts over the years saying that people end up with post grs depression. I think this is because they had focused so much on the surgery as a destination, and having reached there, they hadn’t got a clue what to do next. Since I just treated it as something in my life I had to do, that hasn’t affected me.

I won’t bore you with everything that happened during my week in hospital, but here’s a quick summary.

all the staff are wonderful. Nothing is a problem to them, and they will do anything you ask, and constantly remind you of that. They treat you like human beings not pieces of meat.

They wheel you down to theatre and back to your room in your bed, which is brilliant. Trying to get off a trolley and back into bed having just come round is a nightmare.

I felt quite nervous as they wheeled me down to theatre then felt at piece with the world as they give you strong pain killers before putting you to sleep.

I woke up what felt like a couple of seconds later, feeling extremely groggy. I think all I did was ask if I could speak to my wife, and that I couldn’t believe it was all done.

I had to lie in bed until Saturday, which got very boring very quickly.I did have a few visitors though and that made it slightly easier, and of course my wife stayed in Brighton the whole week.

I had my first proper look at the result on the following Monday; words can’t accurately describe the feeling of being as anatomically correct as it’s possible for me to be.

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Kara Louise

A 30something trans woman trying to make the best of life. Oh, I'm Also blind.

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