I am pleased to say that the consultants at Guy's Hospital in London have agreed to see me about my ongoing affliction. My own doctor left me less than hopeful when I saw her a few weeks ago. But perhaps I might now be able to make some better progress towards recovery. Fingers crossed.
(A pity it's not Girl's Hospital, but there you go.)
And talking of Guys, I have been meeting up with a few more of my trans friends and, largely for reasons of convenience, we've all met as boys. I'm glad that we're friends even when the frocks are at home.
Although there's plenty to chat about - and we generally stick to our trans and feminine topics - the different behaviour that's required in public really plays on the conscience and grates a lot. Boys don't kiss each other when they say hello or goodbye, or touch each other, they drink big pints of beer, are expected to slouch, care less about their appearance, they don't all go to the toilet together to gossip and have a nosey in each others' bags, or talk about shoes and shopping ...
It's a different culture all right and I've never felt as comfortable in men's culture as in women's, especially when it comes to arguing animatedly about sport, cars, hobbies and such. I always wanted to be treated as a girl, be part of the female side of life, and that's really hitting home now that I can't be part of it properly.