About 65 hours post-op. (not quite 3 days)
I was really scared and nervous going in. You know, that whole not having any control thing.. being knocked out.. being left completely in the hands of other people.. and I was worried about all the different things that could go wrong.
I was shaking - that's how scared I was.. but my anesthetists and nurses in the O.R. were really sweet, and made me feel more at ease.
After the surgeon marked me, I was given some medication via I.V. to calm down..
After that, I don't actually remember anything.. lol
I don't remember being given the anesthetic at all..

When I first woke up, I thought the surgery was just starting..
I didn't realize many hours had passed, or that I'd already had the surgery..
I woke up with an oxygen mask on.. which felt strange..
The male nurses I had in the recovery room were pretty awesome. They even noticed my lips were chapped, and rubbed vaseline on them for me.. lol
They were very attentive and sympathetic.. which is more than I can say for the first nurse I got when I was finally given a room.
I was less than 2 hours post-op, totally disoriented, dizzy, nauseated.. pale, and sickly.. and she made me walk from the gurney to my bed..
And then later on, when I was feeling even more sick, throwing up like crazy, and was sweating really bad, she hardly paid any attention to me.
I would go for long periods of time without seeing her at all..
I tried buzzing and buzzing for the nurse, but she almost never came.. and that sucked.. I was all alone for a while.
I told her I felt too hot, and she didn't bother taking my temperature.. all she did was put a cloth by the sink and tell me to wet it with cold water and stick it on my forehead.
I couldn't believe it. Just a couple hours post-op, and she wanted me to get up and wet my own cloth for my forehead.
Every time I managed to get her into the room, and asked something of her, she would act like it was some HUGE chore, and she'd rush through it.
Maybe she was busy.. but this was ridiculous. I needed to be looked after.. she's a nurse.. that's her job.
When a patient is uncomfortable, needs something, isn't feeling well.. the nurse is supposed to tend to them. She just acted like, how DARE I ask that of her.. lol
Oh well. Heh.
Sorry for the mini-rant.. lol
The night nurse I had was better, anyways. =)

So the anesthetic reaked havoc on my stomach, and for several hours, I couldn't keep any fluids down.. even when given gravol.
I didn't even attempt to eat solids or take any pain meds.
I wasn't in much pain at first.. probably because of the local anesthetic.. so I was able to go without pain medication for a while, anyways.. but eventually, I felt the pain. The drains made it feel like my insides were being pulled out.
Around 10 pm or so, my night nurse gave me a large dose of gravol and some morphine (in the I.V.).. Then, I slowly worked my way up from water, to other fluids.. and then finally, solids.
Since I had to stop eating at 10 pm the night before, it had been more than 24 hours since the last time I had eaten before that.
After that, the nausea and vomiting didn't return.
I was switched to oral painkillers in the morning, because I was going to be discharged later that day.. and they wanted to make sure I was on a medication I could take on my own.

My surgeon came to see me in the morning, and he took my bandage off to take a look at my chest, to see if everything was healing okay..
It looked amazing. My nipples were perfectly symmetrical.. the incisions were even, and nicely rounded, just like I wanted..
There's a bit of puckering, and he did leave the fat in, but that's okay. Just the fat. No breast tissue. He proportioned my pecs perfectly to my already chubby body.. and he explained that as I lose weight and build muscle, they will follow suit.

I'm in a bit of pain still, but no complications so far at all..
I've been on antibiotics since right after surgery.. now taking them orally.. so I think that's helping.. no infections that I know of.. no hematomas.. no seromas..
Hopefully none of that will happen at all. I've been doing everything according to the book.. taking my pain meds and antibiotics on time.. emptying my drains and keeping track of the amount of fluid that comes out.. and keeping my incisions and nipple sponges covered and dry.
I get my drains out in a week.. and I think that's when my nipples get assessed as well.
I'm excited to see what they look like under the little nipple sponges!

Here are a couple of videos documenting how surgery day went, and the few days following:
 
 
Been back on T for 3 weeks now. Noticing some weightloss already, but hair growth is still slowed way down.. face is still ridiculously feminine.. not really passing at all, aside from my voice. People give me strange looks when I talk, as though they're surprised that my voice is so masculine when they thought I was a girl..

I was a mess, mentally, while being off T.. but I'm noticing I'm getting a bit better now that I'm back on it..
I will not be going off T again. That was the stupidest thing I've ever done, even if it was for a reason. lol

I started hair loss medicine at the end of September.. it's called Proscar, or "Finasteride".. it's actually a form of testosterone blocker.. but my doctor clarified that it will only block it at the follicle level.. as in, it prevents and treats hair loss. I have been noticing some new hair growth where I was balding.. so that's pretty good..
I'm just hoping it's not preventing my facial/body hair from growing..

My top surgery is actually this coming Wednesday (November 25th)!!!
My nannie is here to look after me afterwards.
My hysterectomy consult is at the beginning of January.
 
 
I'm almost 27, but I don't feel that old. I didn't get to be a teenager. My parents were very strict, yet never paid any attention to me.. so I was sheltered, but very neglected. I was abused by them quite a bit.. emotionally, and physically.. I was a bit of a handful, but this was due to the neglect.. I would act out because I was neglected and just wanted their attention, then they would punish me. I wanted their attention, but the only time they would give me their attention was when they were punishing me.
I realized something was wrong when I hit puberty.. and around that time, I began to not just act out, but I became full of rage and extreme sadness -- fell into a deep depression..
Gender is very black and white in my family. Girls do this, boys do that. I did subtly try to dress more masculine, wear cologne, boys shoes, things like that.. but it wasn't long before I was told girls don't do that.
I felt like a boy, but my body told me otherwise. I'd look in the mirror, and I'd see things I felt weren't supposed to be there.
But eventually, I did my very best to fit in, and to please everyone .. especially my parents. I overcompensated, dressed and acted as stereotypically feminine as possible.
I began cutting myself around this time.. and this is where the suicide attempts started.
they never understood why.. they just threatened to throw me in an institution whenever I did it.
They decided I was too much to handle at 16, and temporarily gave up custody. Handed me over to "the system". I was put in secure treatment (basically psych ward for kids), and then a group home, for 6 months. When I was released from the group home, we began fighting again. I was kicked out of the house just after I turned 17..
I haven't progressed much in life since I was kicked out.. so I don't feel much older than 16.. I never graduated because I couldn't concentrate in school, was never able to hold down a job because of mental instability.. I never had my parents support. There have been alot of times in my life where I've needed my mom more than anything.. and she's never been there.
Since then, I've gone through more than a person should ever have to go through in their life.. drug addiction, prostitution (because I could never hold down a "real" job), homelessness, loss, etc.. and I've attempted suicide so many times, I've lost count.
Yeah, I'm still here, and I'm okay right now.. I'm on disability income support.. I have a place to live.. I've been on hormones for almost 2 years.. I have friends that support me.. I have a great doctor and a great psychiatrist.. my chest surgery is in just a few days, and my hysterectomy is happening sometime this coming year..
I don't have much, but my basic needs are met - I have everything I need.. but I have this void in my heart. This feeling that something is missing. I need my family. I look around at other people's families.. I see that they take care of eachother.. they look out for eachother.. they support eachother.. It's such a mystery to me, as to what that's like.. all I know is that that's apparently the way a family is supposed to be.
Every time I am in a tough situation.. if I go broke again, if I'm starving again, if I have no place to go.. the first thing people always ask me when I tell them about it, is: "What about your family?"
Because apparently the family is supposed to be the people you can rely on, no matter what.
Not everyone's family is there for them.. I know that..
But, I don't know.. I just want my family back. I know they've changed.. they are no longer physically abusive.. they raised my brothers very well.. and would do anything for them.. my sisters as well.. but me? I've always been the black sheep. They claim they love me.. they swear it up and down.. but they will not accept me as trans.. and this has alienated me.. I'm not really allowed to go over there for christmas or other holidays. -- I get very bitter around those times.. At christmas, I drink for 3 days straight, though I don't really drink any other time of year. I just do it to numb the pain. They almost never call me or write to me.. I have to initiate contact.. but then they act like they are too busy for me.. always running around.. doing their own thing.. they have no time for their own child.
The only time they really seem to care, is that one time every year when they realize they have another kid: my birthday.
They send me a couple hundred dollars for my birthday/christmas (my birthday is mid-December).. and mom calls me up and acts all cheerful, like she's on some kind of drug.. she sounds like she's filled to the brim with joy.. wishes me happy birthday.. tries talking like I haven't been abandoned by her the whole year..
And when we hang up, that's it. For another 365 days.
I don't want their money though. I just want my family back.
I came out to my parents as trans 3 years ago this month, and they still refuse to accept it.
My brothers don't talk to me, because they've been taught by my parents that transsexuality doesn't exist, and that what I'm doing is a sin.. it's against god's plan, etc etc.. and that's the thing that breaks my heart the most. All of my siblings are younger than me, and I never got to see them grow up. The youngest is 14.. the last time I heard from him was when he was 10. He hates me now, because of what he's been told.. I may never have a relationship with him, or my other siblings, never mind my parents.
And all 3 of my sisters had babies in the past 2 years. I may never get to see my neices and nephews grow up.
.. I don't know. I just want my family back. All I want is to be accepted by them.. as a brother, an uncle, and a son.