After Dr. Ousterhout came in to examine how my initial recovery was progressing, and being satisfied that I was mending properly, he signed the necessary papers to allow me to leave the hospital. The security people had returned my personal belongings, and I dressed myself in anticipation of the ride back to the Cocoon House, Dr. Ousterhout’s recovery house. I had been diligent in taking my medications, and didn’t have any noticeable pain. I could not open my mouth or move my tongue very much, and my face and lips were very swollen. My jaw, chin, and throat were taped, stitches under my nose, and bruising around my neck. I was instructed to not try and talk too loudly at first, as my tracheal shave had been a little more severe than originally anticipated. I had been diligent with my medications, and as a result, I was in not pain, and only had to deal with the discomfort, as careful and honest evaluation of my the results at this early point raised the question in my mind, was this really worth it?
Feeling as good physically led me to get antsy about awaiting the ride back to the Cocoon House, and so I decided to walk the 6 blocks up hill to the street car stop for the ride back home, much to the dismay of the poor, unsuspecting locals. One of the great things I came to appreciate about San Francisco was the ease of getting around on the public transportation system. As I entered my room, the housemothers were straightening up and packing the cabinets with appropriate food for the guests, and they were completely surprised to see me return so soon, as I was expected there 2 hours later. I felt good that I had been able to get back “home” under my own steam, as they explained most girls returning from surgery don’t even feel like getting out of bed. The hostesses had stocked the cupboard with lots of chicken noodle soup, Jell-O, and juices. The Cocoon House furnishes all of its guests with a fully stocked pantry of appropriate post op foods for their use. I decided to try the first of many bowls of chicken noodle soup, as I believed I could at least eat than without too much difficulty. This was not my first choice, as there was left over pizza, which I heated up and tried to eat, but the pain of trying to chew solid food was too great. I learned that there is a reason that the staff tells you what you can and cannot do, and began to remember additional warnings began to come back to me. Don’t lift any heavy objects, no strenuous exercise, all for fear of damaging the patchwork that was so carefully se in place by the good doctor.
Several hours later, Dr. O’s associate, Mira showed up at the house with another guest, and came to visit me. Turned out she had been looking for me, and was concerned that something awful had happened to me. The staff at the hospital didn’t tell her that I had left and checked myself out. We went over the rules of recovery that I had already discovered the validity of, and scheduled my follow up visit for stitches removal and post op evaluation 5 days later.
It may be appropriate to mention a here that I have been diagnosed as having ADD, Attention Deficit Disorder, so when I awoke the next morning, I was chomping at the bit to get out and explore my surroundings. I started out by taking these pictures of myself before venturing out. Ever try to put on makeup when your face is numb, and swollen? I walked back to the neighborhood I had been to earlier, and on the way noticed a nail salon, and decided that is what I needed to do, my nails. I’d never considered doing that before, but now, since I’ve had facial feminization surgery, and I have the appropriate licenses and paper work designating me female, the gender police wouldn’t be able to bust me, and went for it. In I went and didn’t even raise an eyebrow from the community when I went in. I must say the getting gel nails did wonders for my psyche, which I must have needed to counter the monster act my face was presenting to the world.
There had not been much change in my physical appearance this second day post op. I noticed that there was a reason they had given me a tiny toothbrush. Opening my mouth was a chore, at best. Everything I touched around my face was numb and swollen, but as I had been following my medication schedule explicitly, I felt great. I still couldn’t open my mouth much, or move my tongue enough to explore effectively. I was not up to full strength, but did get the opportunity to walk to the grocery store, and pick up some food that I craved, so my appetite hadn’t been affected, darn.
I spent the next 4 days exploring the city, and was able to take streetcars by myself anywhere I wanted to go, Fisherman’s Wharf, (which was more Disneyland like I had pictured.) was interesting. But the people of San Francisco were amazingly polite toward this refugee from the OR, and I never noticed a whispered aside, or snide remark while I was there. Eventually, as opposed to finally, because I had a LOT of fun exploring the city, I had to get back to the hospital for stitches removal. I was scheduled to return home the day I returned to the clinic, and when Mira came in to remove my dressings, I was anxious to see what had happened beneath those covered areas; I knew I was going to be beautiful. At first she began removing the stitches under my nose from the lip lift. Turns out the eating and brushing my teeth I had done the past few days had caused my lips swell further, and had expanded into the stitches that had been placed between my nose and mouth. This necessitated Mira to pull up on the stitch to expose it enough to allow it to be clipped. This procedure actually was the most painful of my entire surgical process, and I was brought to the edge of tears with every snip. I was afraid I was going to be charged for the claw marks I put on the ceiling.
The removal of the taped areas around my chin and jaw was uneventful, and as the last bandaged was removed I was so excited, wanting to immediately see the fantastic results. Mira said she’d be right back, and I hopped up to look in the mirror in the Exam Room………..holy sheet. I was totally unprepared for the image that was looking back at me.
I have had laser hair removal prior to coming to San Francisco (another topic, another time) but I still had white hairs to deal with per electrolysis. There I was looking at a 5-day stubble of white hair, and I felt I was Santa Claus. I was still swollen, I still had a bruised neck, and what I saw was nothing like the old time movies I had seen where the heroine examines the mirror and exclaims, “Wow, I’m beautiful!.” Instead, I was an old white faced person with a big head staring back at me. I was heartbroken to say the least, and I know Mira sensed it, for when she returned to the room she told me that it would take three months for me to see what Dr. Ousterhout has done for me. Let me tell you what a blow that was. In my unrealistic beliefs, I was going to walk away from surgery a changed woman, with star quality good looks. I was anything but.
Turns out that after the bandages were removed, they had left some stitches for the surgery that was done one my chin and jaw that I would have to remove myself, as they needed to remain in place for an addition week. The ends of which were protruding about 1/” on either side of my jaw line. I was told how to go about removing these, but I wasn’t listening, I was crying inside. I was going to fly home that afternoon, and I wanted to get back to the Cocoon House and shave, and get some make up on to cover the purple. I said to myself? This was the worst thing I’ve ever done to myself..
