Looking back: How clear are the details after 30 years? (You tell me!)
A recitation on my journey into and through SRS (GCS) surgery ...
First I had a desire for breast development. That started way back in my teenage years. I tried several things to make that happen. I tried birth control pills and I tried herbs. There was no internet back then so it was hard finding out what I needed or what I could do. For example, I had no idea that I needed anti-androgens to block the effects of testosterone, so the best I could muster was about a "generous" AA-cup breast development.
One day back in 1985 when I was in my 20's I found myself in Los Angeles for work, and I discovered the magnificence of the L.A. Phone book yellow pages, which had all kinds of "options" for women who wanted bigger breasts etc. I studied the ads carefully, and I found one advertising "pec implants for men". I figured, hey ... pretty close, so I called that office and made an appointment to go in and discuss my desires. The doctor didn't even bat an eye, he said that breast implants for me would be "no problem", and wanted to know when I wanted to do it. Wow! After all these years of wishing and trying and waiting? I scheduled a time just a few weeks from then, and I went back to L.A. for the procedure, and took his advice to insert B-Cup breast implants. I really liked that result. Quick, easy and not very expensive or painful. I was back to my normal routine in just a few days, but now wearing a bra, of course, and NOT going without a shirt!
I lived with the B-Cup implants for about a year, then I went back to the surgeon to ask about the possibility of increasing the size a bit. He was pleased to see me, and told me that he was glad that I went for smaller size first, and now later a larger size, because that would make for a better final result than going to the large size on day one. He told me that he was "expecting me for Part 2". He was right. But to my surprise his idea of "Part 2" was SRS (now called GCS), mine was larger breasts. He asked me if I wanted to have SRS. Wow! Just like that! Back in 1985 there were no WPATH rules or regulations, so he was going with his judgement based on the many conversations we had previous to this time. He was right, I did have a desire for SRS, but I was totally afraid to ask about that. One bridge at a time, as they say. So I responded to him almost without hesitation that yes, I had a desire to lose my penis & balls ever since I was a teenager (and somehow he knew that.) I used to strangle them with bands, push it inside, I considered castration ... All the kinds of things that are commonly discussed today.
He told me that we would do the SRS and the breast implant augmentation at the same time. We scheduled the surgery, it was only about two weeks out. A far cry from today's wait times. I returned to L.A., overnight bag in hand, reported to the clinic, off came the clothes and on went the hospital gown. I spent the night in the bed in the clinic with an IV to help me relax and sleep. In the morning the doctor was there, bending over me with his mask over his face, asking me if I really wanted to do this. Yes! Then the other doctor appeared, mask over his face, he bent over and asked me the same thing. Yes! Then the nurse asked me ... "You know this is irreversible don't you?" Yes, I'm certain. They had me sigh a paper that said I was certain. That was the last thing I remember. They administered the general anesthetic, and I was gone.
I woke up feeling a sharp pain in my groin. I reached down there and felt a big bandage. "Don't touch that!" the nurse blurted out. So I felt up at my breast ... "Don't touch that either!" she said. Too late! I felt the bandage down below, and I felt the much bigger bulge up top. I smiled and went back to sleep. It was done! I really did this!
I had a catheter in to urinate, not very comfortable. I had a giant "plug" up my newly minted vagina. Not very comfortable either. I slept on and off all day. I could hear the constant chatter and background noise of the clinic in a semi-conscious state all day long. Every once in a while a nurse came by to check on me, give me a sip of liquid, etc. It was painful, frankly. When I checked-in my name was Robert, but many of the people at the clinic were Hispanic and called me Roberto. I kind of liked that, after all, there were always six other "Bobs" at every gathering. After the surgery they all were calling me Roberta, and I liked that even better. All of the paperwork they filled out and sent me home with had Roberta for my name on all the forms.
3 days later they sent me on my way back home. Today they keep the SRS (GCS) patient in the hospital for 5 days typically, and in all honesty, that would have been better. I was pretty miserable the first few days. 2 more days of TLC would have been nice. Anyway, all I had to go home with was a kit of vaginal dilators and a prescription for pain pills. No HRT. But I figured they'd get around to that at one of the several follow-up visits that were scheduled over the next few weeks.
(I lived in Phoenix, Arizona at the time, and the clinic was in L.A., but it was only a $9 airplane ticket over there, and a one hour flight (with no TSA etc.), so that was not an issue.)
I had follow-up visits to check on the healing process over the next several months. The doctor started me on HRT, and warned me that this would now make my new breast implants very sensitive. Not only did they become sensitive, but now that I had no testicles and therefore no testosterone, my breasts began to grow naturally. 9 months after the SRS surgery the breast implants were removed, and the natural growth quickly filled the gap. I had natural C-Cup breasts by the end of that year, and eventually they grew to DD-Cup, where they are today (with a 42" band.)
So that's how I went from being Robert to Roberto to Roberta. Quite a journey, but I've never regretted it for a minute. I was happy from the moment it was done. Being "content" with who I was before was OK, but I really wasn't totally happy all the time. The urges and desires came back again and again, until I finally found a way to have the surgery. Now I have contentment all the time, and I'm very happy.
I think the takeaway is that ... When one has these feelings, we need to understand that those feelings will NOT go away. They keep coming back until the problem is finally resolved. It is not just a desire, but rather a NEED. Unfortunately, society, family pressures, friends .... Indeed the rest of the world (almost) is silently applying peer-pressure (sometimes subliminally) to stay on the straight and narrow lines of expectation, and that is what tears at all of us. In reality, we all need to follow your OWN feelings and leave the rest of the world out of any decisions that are ours and ours alone.
Here's to the next 30 years (I hope!)
