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I made a t-shirt. Absolutely no idea what I was thinking at the time, but now it’s out of my head and into the world. There’s pastel pink and blue halftone edging on the lettering for... reasons.

Unexpected voice training side-effect #1

I’m losing my accent.

Developing a more feminine voice is not merely a case of raising your pitch (although this is a significant component). Women also use a specific vocabulary; elongate their vowels; and vary their overall tone more while speaking.

As I’ve attempted to replicate these qualities, I’ve used my wife’s voice as my model to aim for. As she is American however, I have also picked up elements of her accent in the process; causing my original accent to fade.

I have three friends; one transitioned in her thirties, another in her late fifties; the third is transitioning now, in her sixties. All three of them look absolutely incredible.

Honestly, I don’t know where this idea came from that age stops you from transitioning. Yes, there is a possibility that as you age, you may gain more undesirable physical characteristics. You know what else you gain? Time; money; and resources.

The oldest of the three worries a great deal about requiring facial surgery in order to pass. (She doesn’t; but it’s still an understandable concern.) At the same time, she thinks nothing of dropping $35,000 on said surgery.

It’s all trade-offs; what you lack on one side, you gain on the other. ❤️

Baby Trans, listen to me, a 34 year old.

Hi, I'm Trans. I was AFAB and I transitioned, now I just look like a short cis guy.

Here's the thing: I didn't transition until I was about 27ish. I didn't even know I was trans until I was 25.

Don't let anyone tell you to "not bother transitioning after 19"

That's a load of shit. People barely know who they are at 19. Personalities change and develop. Shit I didn't really know who I was until I was about 27-28ish.

You can transition at any age. If you don't feel ready in your teens, or your 20s, take your time. If you are unable to transition at 19 due to medical or economical reasons, you have plenty of time. The clock is not ticking. Take this at your own pace.

You've got a whole long life ahead of you, take one step at a time.

Unexpected HRT side-effect #2: addendum

I have covered before the exciting world of nipple rotation. Well: now they are rotating back! I suppose it stands to reason; that the early stages of breast development result in a certain lopsidedness that self-corrects as the girls fill out.

The only reason this is noteworthy for me is that unlike most female pubescents, I have nipple piercings (acquired without moral hazard) and thus had a very visual gauge by which to observe this entire tilting process!

Unexpected HRT side-effect #3

So... your sense of smell becomes more sensitive. That’s not particularly unknown (although you’ll hardly find it on the informed consent form). No, the unexpected part is this:

CATS SMELL SO GOOD.

Oh my god! They are like tiny precious babies. All I want to do is inhale my cats (while they look on in utter and well-justified bewilderment).

Absence

Apologies for not being particularly present of late; I’ve been dealing with some frustrating health issues.

As I noted previously, I was gifted a cold by a coworker in early December. The following week I contracted another respiratory virus. This was was rather more severe:

First, it induced acute bronchitis; the net effect of which is that I ended up in the ER with an oxygen saturation level of 85%. The blood tests, EKG, and chest X-ray all came back clear; so I was discharged with antibiotics and a course of steroids.

The day after, the virus began to affect me neurologically. My long-term memory, short-term memory, and focus all started to wane. I developed a sensation of weakness in my arms, palpitations, insomnia, severe anxiety, and an impending sense of doom.

The palpitations, anxiety, and sense of doom thankfully receded. Unfortunately, I also lost the ability to regulate my temperature and my blood pressure when changing position.

It looked like I was over the worst of it, until I spontaneously developed neuropathy in my lower limbs. That earned me another trip to the ER, where they ruled out - in their words - “Anything super-deadly”. (I also got my first ever IV catheter, which I found kind of annoying; and a lumbar puncture, which was pretty interesting!)

The neuropathic symptoms have also receded somewhat; but the weakness in my left arm has grown worse, and now there’s a tremor in my second and third fingers. I’m currently waiting on additional neurological tests to determine the cause (’waiting’ being the operative word; after all, heaven forbid I have an MRI without my health insurer getting to sign off on it first)!

I know where a lot of people’s minds are going to go given the timing, and I don’t blame them; but: it wasn’t COVID. Two antigen tests, three PCR tests, and a nucleocapsid antibody test all indicate that this was a routine respiratory virus that just got completely out of control.

Two fun sidebars though:

First: between the tests from last year’s check-up, and the tests from the ER, I discovered that my lymphocyte numbers are routinely low. As measures go, it’s not a one-to-one predictor of immune health; but it does suggest that there’s something not quite right with my immune system, and that this might explain why even minor illnesses cause me significant secondary issues.

Second: I’ve written at length about how COVID tests set off my PTSD. (It’s not a rational reaction; but one borne of my younger self confusing their invasive and required nature with past violations of my bodily autonomy.)

The second go-around at the ER, the nurse performing the test was extremely thorough and as a result, I experienced arguably the most discomfort of any test to date. However, I was able to manage the situation well; in large part, I now recognize, because that selfsame nurse had a warm and sympathetic bedside manner.

That leads me to think that it’s less the physical discomfort of these acts that I find triggering; and more that they are being performed without care or consideration for my person. I’m still trying to make sense of the ramifications of this insight; but it’s beginning to seem like the core of the problem is that I’ve been dehumanized in the past, and this is what I’m so afraid of happening again.

Fire drill: addendum #2

Did I say five days? I meant seven days.

We found another three issues while rolling our changes to the production environment. There are no words.

My boss’ boss spent several years working in the UK; and he knew immediately how angry I was when I sent him an email that started out with: “Right.”

So: this week will now be dedicated to fixing some of the more egregious mistakes in the design of our customer database (and by extension, problems with the data).

Tomorrow will be an interesting day, as there will be a meeting where the other teams will be informed of the changes we are making. (Note: not asked for their input; merely informed.)

It’s going to be interesting!

Shuffle Meme - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

...And finally, the part of the music library that has yet to be tidied up!

Everything Else

Clash Caravan Palace - Live At Le Trianon On my to-do list: catch a live performance from electroswing trailblazers Caravan Palace. (True story: the band was formed when three traditional instrumentalists / DJs were hired to produce the soundtrack to a black and white pornographic film. How French is that?)

Eustonia CoLD SToRAGE - Android Child Legendary for his Amiga and PlayStation soundtracks; Tim Wright also has an exceptional catalog of personal work (including an album that incorporated the moon - the moon! - as a production effect)!

BROKEN HEART 月野うさぎ Desired Desired is a pioneer of the anime-themed future funk scene, and a major tent-pole in the portfolio of Neon City Records. For a fuller sampling of his work, please enjoy this excellent mix by Real Love Music.

Ebough, Delicious DFast - Out Of The System DFast exists somewhere between funk and big beat; as is typified by this stellar contribution to HBC-00004: Field Trip by ½-bit Cheese.

As You Are Garfunkel And Oates - Music Songs Although better known for their hilarious output, the final song of their first album - dedicated to a mutual friend - is a message we all need to hear.

Eer Amak Et Amor've! Keith303 Arguably one of the greatest .mod music files ever made; through the magic of technological manipulation, Keith bends a sine wave into a more than passable imitation of an electric guitar.

Part One Mike Oldfield - Tubular Bells At 17, Oldfield composed the entirety of this album; at 19, recorded almost the entire thing single-handedly using analog technology utterly unsuited for the task. (As an illustration: a BBC performance demonstrates the number of musicians required to achieve this feat live.) From a technical standpoint, this album represents one of the greatest accomplishments in modern music history.

Yuki Satellites Mosaik Mosaik's work features a kind of quiet, contemplative beauty; and this - the theme to the demo Channel 5 Sequence, by Haujobb - is no exception.

Activate One Now Subi The mad maestro of 4-channel .mod music. (I was astonished to learn later in life that we grew up just a mile and a half apart!)

Holly Republica - Republica One of the first albums I ever bought. I strongly suspect that if I had been bestowed the luxury of transitioning in my teens, a great deal of my personal style may have ended up modeled on that of Republica frontwoman Saffron.

Orikan: *Rewinds time*

Trazyn: "...A shred of truth within this tale of yours."

Orikan: "BASTARD!"

"Stop laughing Trazyn, I have a Gf, she's just from another dynasty"

01:38 AM

I should be unconscious right now, but I can’t sleep. I put the distractions aside, and lay down, and close my eyes... That’s when my thoughts catch up with me. You would think that at a certain point, the human body would simply run out of tears to cry; but if there’s a limit, I haven’t hit it yet this evening.

There are almost certainly connections between the different ideas, images, and recollections currently vying for attention inside of my head. I’m not sure I’m in the right frame of mind however to go mining for insight. Perhaps later.

On Monday, I have my MRI. As tests go, it’s fairly mundane; the most prevalent complaint is that you are required to stay still for a long time inside of a loud, clunky machine.

The MRI is to be conducted both with and without contrast. This means they will need to insert an IV catheter at some point, and inject a special fluid that the scanner can detect.

I’ve had my blood drawn plenty of times. I had an IV last time I was in the ER. (It was certainly annoying; but no more painful than the aforementioned blood draws.) However, my mind continues to gravitate towards - and get stuck on - this step.

I think perhaps it’s because I’m coming to realize that what rattles me most is the perception that I am no longer in control of a medical situation. The more steps required in a given appointment, the more likely the providers will have an efficient operation going, the more likely they are to maintain a pace faster than I am comfortable with.

Last week I had my nerve conduction study / electromyograph performed.

The nerve conduction study was first. I had a very nice technician; a young man named William. He listened to me earnestly when I explained my anxiousness; and did exactly what I asked: took his time, explained everything, and was honest with me about any discomfort I might experience.

Prior to the test, I had been instructed to wear clothing that would leave my arms and legs easily accessible (e.g. t-shirt and shorts, weather permitting). I settled for a sleeveless shirt and skirt that could easily be hiked up as necessary.

Apparently I chose poorly, as William provided a blanket which which I could cover up and prevent my thighs from flashing immodestly. We actually had a really nice conversation about it; where he explained that this was de facto policy for female patients, and I noted that I wasn’t opposed, merely surprised... Because my experience to date had, of course, been so different.

The test primarily consisted of William applying electrical shocks in various places; and measuring the corresponding signals reaching the ends of my extremities. He described this process as “More annoying than painful”, and that’s an assessment that (barring a few full-power shocks) I agreed with.

(To his credit, William had himself been shocked many times as part of his training; and was both sympathetic and informative as a result.)

After an hour of this, William subbed out and the neurologist subbed in; tasked with performing the electromyograph.

At the end of my ER visit, I was referred to the Neurology department; and forewarned that they would most likely want to order this test and that they were sorry it was so uncomfortable. I had similar conversations with my own provider, and the nurse practitioner I saw at Neurology.

The entire time I was thinking to myself: “How bad could it be”? The information I could find online explained that the test was conducted by inserting a needle into various muscles; although not particularly fun, this was no worse than my usual intramuscular injection regimen. Likewise, I undergo electrolysis every two weeks - surely that was the high bar for outpatient-induced pain?

Ah, well.

The neurologist very kindly ensured that I was prepared and had forewarning, and then inserted the needle in the muscle between my thumb and forefinger. I determined later that the needle was conical in design; which made for a less traumatic wound, but also perhaps more discomfort on insertion. Regardless, it was bearable.

I was not prepared for the next step: the neurologist had to move the needle about; not unlike swinging a television antenna around the room in search of better reception. This had me gritting my teeth. On top of that, I then had to flex the very muscle the needle was in; to take more readings.

This process took what felt like a couple of minutes; and once done, he proceeded to measure a muscle in my forearm, and then my bicep. After that it was the front of my shin, the calf muscle, and my upper thigh.

Again, he was very concerned with my well-being; but also rightly discerned that I was more interested in getting the test over than taking a break - so we powered through. Thankfully, as no issues were found on the left side, it was not necessary to proceed to the right.

I burst into tears as soon as I was outside. I can recall only one other time when a medical provider induced such pain that I was white-knuckling the surface of the exam table: after I inadvertently cut my finger open as a young teen; and the attending doctor had to examine the wound (and by extension, manipulate it while his assistants sprayed saline and whoever knows what else in there).

I didn’t think it affected me that badly; but I had to do my shot yesterday, and it was so hard. My hands were trembling, and on my first attempt, the needle barely even pierced the surface of the skin - I was that afraid of how much it could hurt.

Tomorrow I see my therapist. Our last appointment was, unfortunately, cancelled; so it’s been a while. We’ve been working on all the pent-up misery associated with my pre-immigration medical. That’s another subject swirling around in my head; and likely the root of a good portion of what I’m dealing with at present.

I was railroaded; moved through a medical assembly line like a non-person. Every time I feel as if there’s even a slight possibility that might be happening again, it all starts to come back - fear; the belief that I can no longer protect myself; that I am a target of contempt.

That brings me full circle; back to my upcoming MRI. There are several possible outcomes to this test: the best outcome, of course, would be that nothing of note is found. (This would suggest that the majority of my symptoms to date were caused by inflammation of my neural and nervous tissue; and as the inflammation naturally abides, so too will the symptoms.)

Another possibility is that I might have suffered a rare complication in which one’s own immune system attacks the nervous system. This is slightly more concerning, as one of the defining characteristics is permanent lesions of the white matter of the brain.

There is a third and final possibility: that the virus triggered a minor stroke. Such a thing would be unusual for a person of my age; as with so many other rare phenomena however, COVID has demonstrated exceptionally rare complications are surprisingly common once you are dealing with a virus that thinks little of the blood-brain barrier.

As you can imagine, two of the outcomes are terrifying in terms of their lifelong implications.

I’ll have my answer after Monday. For now, I’ll go back to ruing the godforsaken system of wealth transfer this country mockingly refers to as ‘health insurance’; knowing that I could have most likely had my results in hand much sooner if it wasn’t so absolutely vital to consult a third party on whether or not it was actually medically necessary to treat me.

02:35 AM.

Time to try again.