Acidentally Gay

by Lucky Bradley

  That didn’t stop the discomfort he felt or reduce all the drugs he had to take. The whole time though he was brave, took it without complaint and was more stoic then you ever saw John Wayne in his movies.

  The travel home was horrendous for him. Not only was he in pain just from surgery, from being stuck in a small hotel room with questionable air-conditioning, but the airport had a delay for our flight causing us to wait in the airport. This was followed by over an hour wait on the airplane itself, with no air-conditioning and temperatures rising. I am still surprised he didn’t pass out, complain or do anything but grunt occasionally while trying to watch a movie on his iPad.

  By the end of the tenth or 11th day (fourth day at home) after the surgery though, Wolsey was happier then I had ever seen him. The surgery was a complete success and he was healing really well. Most importantly the cat was happy we were back.

  The first surgery was done and behind him. There might have to be some tune-ups in the future but those will be nothing compared to this one.

  My husband was so happy which meant the verdict was in and it was a complete success!

  Wolsey’s Perspective Now:

  The surgeons did an excellent job. Two surgery dates later, I can look down at myself after a shower and happily note I have a penis. Dr. Ley has an artful eye, and created a fully working penis that exceeded my expectations. I feel a bit like Michelangelo’s David, if said sculpture was a hairy middle-aged man with a bit of a beer belly.

  It was a wild ride to get to this point. I had some minor complications and the healing process took my middle-aged self a bit longer than I had hoped. Yet, I am now better than I was before I started out.

  First and foremost, I did manage to get these surgeries in during 2017, when I knew my insurance would cover them. I got all but the last procedure covered, and I like to think that President Trump and Vice President Pence personally purchased me the finest penis money could buy. Maybe someday I’ll send them a full color thank you card expressing my gratitude. I’m sure they’d love that. . .

  All joking aside, that was my biggest fear, and Dr. Meltzer and Dr. Ley’s office really went out of their way to make sure I got in under that deadline.

  When I went in for my first surgery I was very concerned at how Greenbaum’s Surgery Center would treat me as a transgender patient. There are some very realistic concerns for transgender people that the folks providing care will have issues with you, and treat you badly. I read horror stories all the time about this.

  That’s when I met Jeff, the nurse. I remember with crystal clarity that he hugged me, told me he was honored to care for me, and promised I would be treated well as a transgender patient. He was so emphatic, and so caring, I still tear up about it. I had not shown my fear to the surgery center staff, but to have someone understand the risks transgender people face when we trust a medical team was heartwarming. True to his word, Greenbaum’s was excellent to me.

  I can’t say I really remember a whole lot of the aftermath of either surgery at the surgery center, because I am very sensitive to pain medications. I don’t take them for much of anything, and have had fractures that I ignored rather than take pain meds. This means that my very lovely husband probably remembers more than me.

  I do remember being handed a phone after the first surgery, and being told to order food. This was far too much responsibility to entrust to me in my pain-medicated state. Apparently, I ordered two trays of side dishes, which ended up arrayed around me on the bed. Lucky had run out to get something, or I’m sure I’d have a ridiculous picture. Lucky ordered for me after that, thankfully.

  After that first surgery, Dr. Meltzer told me he had made certain to remove a bit of extra tissue that showed evidence of my having Lichen Sclerosus. This would permanently cure a chronically painful condition I had dealt with since I had a thyroid storm in 2007 from Graves’ Disease.

  After they took out the catheter with that first surgery, I had a problem peeing because I was so used to it hurting because of the Lichen Sclerosus, that I had forgotten what it was like to pee without pain. It took me months to readjust to what it felt like. It was like my own private victory every time I peed painlessly.

  I had the first of these surgeries in May of 2017, and that was the bulk of the procedures. My initial plans changed somewhat, and I decided to forego testicular implants. The necessary tissue expanders and saline injections, and having a complication rate of 25% was more than I wanted to deal with. Instead, my inventive surgeons built me an “empty scrotoplasty” where they used my own tissue to create testicles. As it turns out, that looks great and is sized appropriately for my new penis.

  I had so much done during the first surgery, that I was in rough shape afterwards. My pain was fairly under control, but I had bladder spasms that were difficult to manage.

  Sometimes when folks have a hysterectomy, they have bladder spasms. The uterus and the bladder are very close in the body and removing the uterus can disrupt the bladder. The result was feeling like I had to pee, with painful internal spasm, that also affected my bowel movements. In fact, everything in there was so hysterical, I once had unbelievable spasms, only to pass gas, and have it all go away. I remember thanking my butt for bringing the rest of my internal organs along for that ride.

  I went back in for my second surgery, which was only for the mons resection. This is like a lower belly tummy tuck, and would lift my genitals up, and de-fat the area so it would stand out a little more. Kind of like a facelift for my dick. A dick lift, if you will.

  This procedure was considered necessary, because as I mentioned, I am a slightly chubby middle-aged man. Without doing this, my new penis would exist under the fat. Despite an emphatic surgeon’s letter of necessity, and multiple attempts at insurance coverage, the Department of Defense decided it was not covered because it was not on the list of procedures that they already decided to cover.

  I wish I was making that up. Group Health, now Kaiser, was more than happy to cover it, but the Department of Defense directly denied it. This meant I could not even pay for it out of my FSA. The reasoning didn’t even make sense, and the process to appeal was cloaked in mail-in forms, and there was no way to contact anyone about it. VISA stepped in where the Department of Defense failed me.

  My recovery from this last surgery was very fast. There were a few hiccups, though. I had a drain get stuck while they tried to pull it out in Arizona. This meant I had to be reopened, and it had to be removed. I literally passed out from all the tugging because I have Graves’ Disease which can happen sometimes when I encounter unexpected pain.

  Then I turned out to be allergic to Keflex, the antibiotic Dr. Ley put me on. Benadryl and John Wayne movies got me through that. The problem with medication allergies is you don’t know you have them until you react to them. There was nothing Dr. Ley could have done differently. It was just a bad roll of the dice.

  Despite all that, I was up and hitting the gym as soon as I was cleared to do so. The work they did was well done and fully functional.

  I had my misgivings about ever getting “The Surgery” for a new penis to begin with, but now that it’s over? I am so very grateful I got it. I’m even more grateful that my husband was willing to go on this ride with me. I’m not sure I could have gotten through it alone.

  Throughout this entire year, my husband was there with me. I have never had anyone take care of me like that before, and I am not sure I can ever repay my husband for his care. Throughout this entire endeavor he stood by me, and took care of me. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Our 25th Anniversary

  The secret of a happy marriage is finding the right person. You know they’re right if you love to be with them all the time.

  —Julia Child

  From the Accidentally Gay Blog: 25TH Anniversary

  Posted on October 31, 2017

  Twenty-five years ago, my husband looked at me and said “I do.” I thoug
ht that would be the happiest moment of my life, but it wasn’t. Instead, today is the happiest moment of my life, and each day is just getting better.

  For our 25th anniversary on Halloween of 2017, we were boring old people. He cooked us dinner of salmon and some side dishes, and I cleaned the kitchen and we enjoyed a quiet meal together.

  Afterwards we lay in bed and watched some shows and just talked about our day. We even found it funny that our cat Ghost had to force himself in between us, because he doesn’t allow us to touch each other; we both have to touch him instead. We avoided any conversation involving work and his transition. We just spent time with each other. It was a magical evening.

  We had originally planned a to-do for our “big 25” that included a Las Vegas wedding vow renewal with dueling Elvis Impersonators and a pink Cadillac. We had been surprised at how relatively cheap it was for a renewal ceremony, even with the hotel and flight down. Sadly, our life has been pretty hard with work and the death of both of my parents who were our only real familial support. Additionally, were trying to pay back the debt from paying for both of their funerals. Instead, we chose to stick close to home.

  Even so, our anniversary was spectacular. I have no regrets about how we spent the time. Just lying next to my husband, hearing his voice and feeling his skin against mine (when the cat wasn’t objecting). It was a fantastic night of us just being together as lovers, spouses and best friends.

  I think back to when we first got married, and truth be told, I didn’t know what the future held. Many of my friends had divorced within a year or two. At the time my husband made it clear that he was like a stray cat. He believed he would never get married, nor have a long-term relationship and that we should just enjoy the time we had together. He put this forward for years as his ideal relationship, but in the end he had asked me to marry him. I wasn’t sure what time would bring and I anticipated he would have grown bored soon enough and moved on. Yet here we are.

  All I can think of now is that our marriage brought me something far beyond anything I could have hoped for. I never imagined I would be in love with a guy, and that the sight of him would excite me mentally, emotionally and physically. I never imagined that he would be the same person as the green-eyed cute punk girl who crawled in my window at the age of 19 because I left “her” cans of Ravioli’s for when she was hungry.

  Twenty-five years is a long time to some. It literally was a lifetime with my wife as her life ended and the life with my husband started. For me though, it hasn’t been long enough. I feel confident we will probably get another 25 years, or more if I have my way, and it still won’t be long enough.

  Lucky’s Perspective Now:

  When I originally wrote my post on our 25th wedding anniversary things had been in such a flurry. The hubby had just had his bottom surgery and was recovering well. I was watching an administration start its step-by-step ripping apart of my husband’s rights, and we were going into the holiday seasons after my parents had passed. The stress wasn’t eased by my working for the Department of Defense, and we were watching first hand that same dismantling of federal rights.

  That being said, my post still stands up as 100% true. The happiest moment of my life is right now, and each day that passes I am happier, more content, and more at peace. It is like I won the emotional Lotto and am living on the installment plan.

  While things are great now, when we got together I had assumed this relationship was doomed. We had started off with a couple of teenage relationship missteps, and I hadn’t ever seen anyone correct the course. This resulted in me not thinking Wolsey would want to be with me longer than a couple years, let alone halfway through our third decade together. The longest relationship I had seen in my friends was nine months at that time. Of course, both of our sets of parents had been together for over 20 years, so I should have given it more hope.

  Time moves silently and you never think about these things on a day-to-day basis. You just live with your partner, love them, endure the pain and celebrate the good points. The weeks, months and years pass by mostly unremarkably until one day you look up and you realize it has been a quarter of a century and you are happier then you have ever been. If my life ended right at this moment, I can say I am luckier than most people out there. I didn’t wake up with a midlife crisis of my identity and who I was with. I woke up with an excitement of my life and who my spouse was.

  I have to say that I am still a little disappointed our anniversary didn’t work out like we thought. We had originally planned to spend our 25th wedding anniversary in Las Vegas, getting remarried by dueling Elvis impersonators. We were going to buy the whole kitschy package, pink limousine and all. We thought the trip to Las Vegas was going to be awesome.

  Wolsey’s bottom surgery had some of the side effects that had put a damper on our plans. That hasn’t stopped our plans, it just delayed them. We are still planning that on one of our future anniversaries (maybe 30th), and we are also looking at Disneyland at some point since I have never been there.

  It probably helps that we are generally quiet people. We don’t take a lot of trips. We didn’t regret missing the trip.

  The other factor that the original post reminds me of is how many people doubted we would stay together for a variety of reasons. The first was that we weren’t compatible according to some. He came from a totally different world then me. His friends thought I was bad for him, tried to convince him to not be with me, and some of them tried to date him. Even with my own friends, there was as similar sentiment. They thought Wolsey was awesome, but that it wouldn’t last.

  Now I look back and none of my friends or his old friends are in the same relationships. Most of them have a string of shorter relationships, and yet here we are still together. We are still happy, and the only people who told me this would be permanent was my mom and dad. I guess mom and dad were right.

  We were told when we decided we weren’t having children that we wouldn’t have the glue to hold our marriage together. All of our other friends had children, and despite their criticisms, we maintained our relationship. Having children doesn’t seem to help one way or the other. They were wrong and we are still together.

  Five years ago, when I started this journey with Wolsey and he became my husband, it was almost a forgone conclusion that men don’t stay with transgender men that transition. Even a lot of our LGBTQ friendly friends believed that. They were so hung up on my being heterosexual (not quite true). They saw what they wanted to see, and assumed we had a traditional husband and wife arrangement and that it wouldn’t survive. They were wrong and we are still together.

  I am sitting here beside my husband, as he is humming along, working on something on his computer. I can feel him beside me, a reassuring and loving presence that really hasn’t changed. The love is there but it’s stronger, forged in all the problems and great times that we have experienced.

  We still have to work on our relationship. Anyone who tells you that after you get married there are no problems is a liar or a fool. The transition was stressful, but not in ways I had ever anticipated. It was also relieving. He no longer has to lie about who he is and it means he can be happy. It means we can both be happy.

  Wolsey’s Perspective Now:

  When Lucky and I got married, I was very pragmatic. I knew that most marriages ended in divorce. I had no expectations that mine would last. I was braced for the fact that Lucky and I were not going to have a full happily forever after, but we could have a very happy right now.

  I really loved Lucky with all my heart, but with my family history, I just could not fathom people wanting to be a part of my life for “forever.” We married right before my 21st birthday, and as happy as I was, I just couldn’t see it. To say I had abandonment issues was an understatement.

  When we hit our 25th wedding anniversary it felt so very unreal to me. Here I was, a dirty street kid who had managed to pull off the impossible. People with much easier lives and better advantages had not be
en able to stay in a marriage, yet I had.

  The time has flown by. It feels like yesterday I got married. The only thing that marks the time with Lucky for me is that now when I try to get up off the floor, I make those old man “oof” noises. I feel like I have barely blinked, and here we were at 25 years together.

  To say I feel utterly blessed is an understatement. Not only did I find a best friend that would have my back in life, but we fell in love with each other. It doesn’t matter what else happens in my life, because I already won the game.

  To have Lucky not just grudgingly accept me, but enthusiastically cheer me on through my transition from female to male? I feel like lightning had struck twice. I had already faced rejection by my family once, so despite Lucky’s unconditional love, once again I could not see a world where he wanted to stay with me. You’d think I had learned my lesson the first time.

  I should have known he would stay with me because of how much Lucky’s family meant to him. Lucky has always done everything he could for his loved ones. Why I thought I was an exception, I can’t really fully explain.

  That’s not to say our life was easy. We both came from such desperate poverty, and really struggled in our first ten years together financially. There were times we were budgeting our groceries for four months at a shot, and could only afford fresh vegetables quarterly.

  His family was also deeply poor, and what little we had we shared with Lucky’s parents. It might have only been a little each week, and we gave it without reservation, but it meant there were times we didn’t eat in order to make sure they did.