Warrant of a Labia
Sometime yesterday morning Dr Suporn and his team showed up and took my bandages off. Surprisingly, there was no salami. In fact right in front of me was all the features of a regular (albeit hideous) vagina. And even though it was hideous, I couldn't help but smile. There was a vagina there - boop - right between my legs. Even Mum was extremely impressed, and she's had a vagina for years.
I'm really not exaggerating when I say it was hideous though. It looked like a flattened cheeseburger on its side, except the mustard and tomato sauce had gotten all over the buns and patty, and someone had sown string through it as well because the cheeseburger as a whole lacked structural integrity (forward thinking on their part). It was (is) bruised, swollen, discolored - just awful really. I have a flatmate who doesn't like bananas though, so not sure it's more awful than that. Plus, in a few weeks or months it will be the prettiest vj in the land, and he'll probably still hate bananas.
I'll get a certificate before I leave too, which I've alluded to in the title of this blog. I haven't seen it yet, but I can only guess it will read like this:
"To whom it may concern,
The council of the clitoris has determined that Rosie Muir, who as of 8th December 2017 has been in possession of a vagina, may be issued the Warrant of a Labia. This Warrant may be used in order to obtain a change of the gender identification on the birth certificate of the receiver. Additionally, presentation of this Warrant may entitle you to free or discounted access to computer programming courses at participating tertiary institutions. Oh, and cheap Subarus. It's more of a lesbian thing, but transgender people need transportation too, so let's put the 'trans' in transportation."
Something like that anyway. Personally I'd prefer a discount on Hundreds and Thousands biscuits, but you take what you can get.
Oh yeah, I got to walk today. It was about 8 metres total. I went to the shower and sat on a rubber ring and some stranger helped showered me. Come to think of it, I'm not actually sure she worked at the hospital - she was dressed like a construction worker. Then again, construction workers dress exactly like nurses in Thailand I've been told. That might be wrong though since I haven't seen a construction worker here in Thailand. Either way, she had a trustworthy face so I let her help me wash. Then I walked back to my bed and that was that. Then this evening I got to walk again, probably around 12 metres this time. I couldn't go out of my room though - they wouldn't let me. I think the nurse and/or construction worker was stopping me because of a DJ in a car in the lobby. I don't know how they got onto the 9th floor. I asked about the DJ, but she just said 'Congratulations' in English and left. It totally blew my mind when I sat back down. Totally dizzy and spaced out. What a trip. Walking is tough.
I haven't shit since Friday. I think things are getting a little cramped inside. Nothing has made it past the border yet, but we might need to get in touch with Donald Trump if things don't improve soon. Technically I'm allowed to do a sneaky wee poop if I really have to, but it would have to be in a bedpan on my bed, and I think I've just got too much dignity for that. I'd like to do the whole week - 8th till the 15th. I think that'd really be something to write home about. You've gotta do your best if you wanna get ahead.
Anyway, that's the end of this blog. I've got a couple of photos again. I don't remember what they are, but no straight up vj shots. I haven't told you about enemas yet, so that could be a fun topic. Explosive even. I might have to hit up Michael Bay. He loves explosions. I can see it now - "Enema at the Gates" coming to a cinema near you.
I'm really not exaggerating when I say it was hideous though. It looked like a flattened cheeseburger on its side, except the mustard and tomato sauce had gotten all over the buns and patty, and someone had sown string through it as well because the cheeseburger as a whole lacked structural integrity (forward thinking on their part). It was (is) bruised, swollen, discolored - just awful really. I have a flatmate who doesn't like bananas though, so not sure it's more awful than that. Plus, in a few weeks or months it will be the prettiest vj in the land, and he'll probably still hate bananas.
I'll get a certificate before I leave too, which I've alluded to in the title of this blog. I haven't seen it yet, but I can only guess it will read like this:
"To whom it may concern,
The council of the clitoris has determined that Rosie Muir, who as of 8th December 2017 has been in possession of a vagina, may be issued the Warrant of a Labia. This Warrant may be used in order to obtain a change of the gender identification on the birth certificate of the receiver. Additionally, presentation of this Warrant may entitle you to free or discounted access to computer programming courses at participating tertiary institutions. Oh, and cheap Subarus. It's more of a lesbian thing, but transgender people need transportation too, so let's put the 'trans' in transportation."
Something like that anyway. Personally I'd prefer a discount on Hundreds and Thousands biscuits, but you take what you can get.
Oh yeah, I got to walk today. It was about 8 metres total. I went to the shower and sat on a rubber ring and some stranger helped showered me. Come to think of it, I'm not actually sure she worked at the hospital - she was dressed like a construction worker. Then again, construction workers dress exactly like nurses in Thailand I've been told. That might be wrong though since I haven't seen a construction worker here in Thailand. Either way, she had a trustworthy face so I let her help me wash. Then I walked back to my bed and that was that. Then this evening I got to walk again, probably around 12 metres this time. I couldn't go out of my room though - they wouldn't let me. I think the nurse and/or construction worker was stopping me because of a DJ in a car in the lobby. I don't know how they got onto the 9th floor. I asked about the DJ, but she just said 'Congratulations' in English and left. It totally blew my mind when I sat back down. Totally dizzy and spaced out. What a trip. Walking is tough.
I haven't shit since Friday. I think things are getting a little cramped inside. Nothing has made it past the border yet, but we might need to get in touch with Donald Trump if things don't improve soon. Technically I'm allowed to do a sneaky wee poop if I really have to, but it would have to be in a bedpan on my bed, and I think I've just got too much dignity for that. I'd like to do the whole week - 8th till the 15th. I think that'd really be something to write home about. You've gotta do your best if you wanna get ahead.
Anyway, that's the end of this blog. I've got a couple of photos again. I don't remember what they are, but no straight up vj shots. I haven't told you about enemas yet, so that could be a fun topic. Explosive even. I might have to hit up Michael Bay. He loves explosions. I can see it now - "Enema at the Gates" coming to a cinema near you.
The drugs I get to take after each meal.
Flowers the surgery clinic gave me. The little button flower one up top my Mum made.
That's a bag of my pee. I ran out of photos to put up, and they say three is the magic number. Sorry.
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