I know that this story will probably blow my anonymity out of the water. So far only one Arrser has figured out my real identity. I keep some stuff close to my chest! However, some stories must be told...

Oh - and it's long. Sorry!

I am currently on an Op Tour(ish) in Sarajevo. It's a pretty cushy tour and the only danger is to your liver. However, I did have cause to try out the medical services over the last few weeks.

I woke up one Saturday morning with a bit of a stiff neck. It happens. It also happens that I broke my neck a couple of years ago and so having the odd pain in the neck was not unusual. Over the course of the day it got a bit worse. The next day I was persuaded to go sick, as it was much worse. So I did. Now the only medical facility in Sarajevo is a German Field Hospital about 30 minutes away from the base. They stuck my neck in a collar and gave me some pills. Then they told me that they wanted me to stay in overnight. "Bollox" thinks I. So I went back to camp having promised to return on the Monday morning, and had the pi$$ ripped out of me for having a collar on.

On Monday morning my fingers were numb. This was a bit of a worry. I (eventually) got transported up to the hospital, where I was immediately admitted. Luckily I had had a little foresight and a bag was packed (even if I had left it in my room). One of the guys delivered it to me. An X-Ray was taken. "You have pneumonia" the Doctor told me, showing me an X-Ray of my chest, with lots of dark shadows on my lungs. Well, that explained all the coughing that I thought was down to smoking too much. But why was my neck sore, why was my back starting to hurt, and why were my fingers numb? A CT Scan was taken. The only thing that the Doc could come up with was that my vertebrae were too close together and that could mean my disks were collapsing. That sounded scary. I was put to bed with a drip in my arm pumping me full of some liquid stuff. Needles pushing stuff in to my body, and needles taking stuff out filled the day, plus loads of pills. Oh - and they wouldn't let me smoke (not that I wanted to anyway, after seeing those X-Rays). A Nicotine Patch was issued.

This was pretty much the pattern over the next couple of days. The pain increased and the use of my right hand decreased. The Doc decided an MRI scan was needed. The nearest MRI scanner was in Sarajevo Hospital. A couple of German Medics and a German Driver drove me to the hospital. Straight past the queues to the VIP reception, and in to see a Neurosurgeon. He looked at my X-Rays and scan and said that he thought my disks had collapsed. He then told me that I needed to pay cash for his consultation (22KMs or 11 Euros) and I needed to pay for the MRI in advance - 500KMs (250 Euros). I paid for the doc - but didn't carry enough cash for the MRI. So an appointment was booked for the following day. I went back to the hospital the next day, with 500KMs in my hand from my unit. Only this time they were too busy to see me. I was told to come back the next day.

By now an RAF Aeromed Liaison bloke had arrived from Banja Luka. He made sure that I was in a hard collar, confined to bed and they started doing Blood Oxygen checks on me. My levels were too low so I stayed on Oxygen for a while. It was arranged for me to be flown to Zagreb the following day for an MRI scan.

The next morning I was trussed up like a chicken in this mattress that completely restricted my movement. Wheeled-out to the Helicopter I was strapped down, headphones put over my ears and an oxygen mask over my face. I was so full of drugs that I was fading in and out of consciousness and don�t remember much about the 2 hour journey, except that my head touched one door of the Belgian Army Something-Or-Other 109 (Hey � I�m a clerk, and I couldn�t see it OK?!?) and my feet touched the other. The only other thing was the excruciating pain that the vibrations were causing me, especially as the helicopter was approaching a landing at Zagreb. The painkillers were wearing off by now and I was in agony. I was removed from the helicopter and taken by road ambulance the short journey to the hospital. I think that the Croatian hospital staff managed to hit every door frame and corner with the trolley. By now I was screaming in pain. I had been met by another RAF Aeromed Liaison nurse who tried to control the locals. I was pulled about, prodded, cooled down with water and finally, after about 10 years, they injected me with painkillers. Up to the ward and abandoned to sleep for a while, with another drip of some sort in my arm.

I was given the MRI scan. I was pulled about, prodded, pulled about again and they even gave me some food. I think. A word of warning folks � the food in Zagreb Hospital is vile stuff. If you ever go there, take sandwiches!

Next day, after almost no sleep (pain again) I was told that I was being transferred to Banja Luka medical centre. By road. The RAF Nurse took me by Landrover to a toll gate in Zagreb where they were to meet another vehicle that would take me (and 2 LECs who had also been treated in Zagreb) on the 2 hour trip south. Ah. The other vehicle was also a Landrover. I was put in the front seat and off we went. Now, I don�t know how many of you have been in the Balkans, but the roads are awful. I was told that about half way there I blacked out. The Driver didn�t notice but the LEC who was sat behind me held me upright in the seat. We arrived in Banja Luka where the Dutch Medics were expecting someone with pneumonia. No mention of a spinal injury � Hence the Landrover.

More pain killers and into bed. I spent a week in Banja Luka, with the pain slowly subsiding. After a few days I even managed to walk the 100 meters to the ECHOS for a brew (with a little help). Meanwhile they still weren�t sure what was going on with my back. The disks were all in place, and the bones were intact. An AeroMedEvac was planned to Birmingham Selly Oak Hospital.

This was fun. Strapped on to a stretcher in the back of a Herc, with the passengers loading after me (including some from my base in Sarajevo�) All was fine until the first landing at Zagreb (haven�t we been here before?). That hurt � and it was apparently a soft landing. All the passengers were kicked off the plane for refuelling � except me and the RAF Nurse. Back in the air, on the maximum pain killers allowed. I slept a little until we hit turbulence. That REALLY hurt. Landing at RAF Lynham in bad weather. That REALLY REALLY hurt. And into the back of an RAF Ambulance for the trip to Birmingham. OK � The roads in Bosnia are bad � so are the British ones. Yep, I blacked out again from the pain during the 2 hour drive.

I was admitted to Selly Oak hospital and tests were done. I was moved to another ward with soldiers who had been CasEvaced from Afghanistan, and staffed my military staff. By now, for some reason the pain was rapidly diminishing. I felt like I had lifted a few heavy boxes too many, and that was all. I felt a fraud. In my bay were a couple of Soldiers who had lost a leg in Afghanistan, another with a gunshot wound in his arm, and one with shrapnel damage in his arm. I had backache. We did get a visit from Prince Charles who chatted to each of us. He seems a nice bloke.

By now they had figured what had happened to me. I had an infection in my spine � and the Antibiotics that I had been taking for pneumonia had sorted it out. So after only 5 days they discharged me. I�m now on 2 weeks leave and will return to Sarajevo afterwards.

Wow � that was a ramble. My 2 � weeks in various hospitals when I should have been on tour! If I�ve bored you sorry, but you could have stopped reading at any time!

Copied from blogs (original entry) - post comments here.

Good to know you made a recovery. Hope it doesn't recur.

Legs can I have your autograph before you make it big and head off to Hollywood you Soap Star you! ,) Glad you're better. Beebs x

Flipping heck Legs, talk about making a drama out of a crisis! :P Glad you're all fixed now and stay off the faaaaaaags!

It's karma for you being a dirty, filthy, anti-social, smoker. :D

Sounds like an excuse to get two weeks leave back in blighty. If I were your boss I'd count it as your R&R. :D

Its good to know that you are ok now. It must have been worse being so far away from home. But at least you have 2 weeks to recuperate being looked after at home. :D

Good luck with the rest of the tour... Hope it stays trouble free.

I have been asked by a number of people to write a blog giving an insight into my transition from male to female. I don't expect many reads, but I'll do it anyway. You never know, someone might be interested. I've done it as a diary. If it makes no sense then sorry, it's my thoughts as well.

05 Feb 2007

I felt sick beforehand, especially as my appointment was for 3:00 and I was still in the waiting room at 3:10. (Those were 10 very long minutes), but I've seen my MO. I told her that I wanted to be referred for Gender Re-assignment. She wasn't fazed, asked me lots of questions and listened to what I said. I gave her some of the treatment info I had collected from t'interweb (most military doctors haven't come across this before). I also told her of another girl who is transitioning at another military unit in UK - she will contact her MO for advice as well.

I am now waiting for a Psychiatrist appointment which should be in the next few weeks. She thinks seeing a CPN would be a waste of time and effort as I seem to be very sure of what I want, and have obviously researched things.

So I have officially started on the road to womanhood... Let's hope the road is smooth.

14 Mar 2007

After fretting and fretting about when my Psych Appointment was going to be I finished work early today (for a 'Sports' Afternoon ). A few minutes after I got home the phone rings.

"Hello, is that Sgt *****? This is Colonel ******.... "

With that one sentence my mood goes from feeling very low to elation. Col *****is the Army Psychiatrist I have been referred to. He apologised for me not getting my appointment letter (I should have been seen yesterday....) - but his clerk sent it to the wrong place! Never mind. He seemed so nice as well. I now have an appointment for Tuesday 20th March. I asked him if I should attend in uniform, and he said I could come as I wished, in either my Male or Female role. His last TG patient always came in female role. He also settled my mind about my future and gave me some military websites to read up on for the process we will be following.

Well, I'm now out of first gear and heading on down the road....

20 Mar 2007

I thought I'd let you all know how things went today with Col ****, the Army Psychiatrist that I was referred to.

I had to get up early as it is a 3(ish) hour drive to the Military Mental Health Unit at the old RAF Hospital Wegberg, plus I needed to get dressed and made up, which takes longer than just throwing on a uniform. I stopped once along the way for a coffee at a service station to fortify myself. The weather was flippin' awful as well, with heavy snow showers!

I found the unit and the receptionist told me to wait. Plenty of magazines to read and the receptionist made me a coffee while I waited - I was early. The Psychiatrist called me in and we chatted for about 1 1/2 hours! He is now going to refer me directly to Charing Cross to be seen by a Gender Specialist. He feels that further Psychiatric appointments aren't required (unless I want to speak to him). Once this stage is complete then we can start thinking about Transitioning. Having read the guidelines that the MoD has produced I am confident that everything will be done to help things go smoothly.

I also told my Boss yesterday about why I was going to be out today. He knew where I was going, but I hadn't told him why. So I did. He said 'I suspected it was something like that...' He had been told (about 18 months ago) by my last unit about certain 'rumours' about me. He was great though. He is going to support me, and will talk to my Chain of Command for me (at my request) - and try to steer a posting to a convenient and sensible location for Transition.

So, quite a momentous couple of days. The Army now knows all about me and is going to help me move forward.

21 Mar 2007

I went back to work today after my appointment. Of course my Boss wanted to know how things had gone. He has done a lot of research over the last couple of days to understand more about what I am going through, and what is to come (fair play to him as well). He asked me what was next on the agenda whilst I wait for the CHX appointment. I told him that laser hair removal would be next.

Anyway, he asked when and if people should know what was happening to me. So, we decided that the Senior Clerks (Sergeants and above) should be told. We are all mates and he felt that the support now would be better than waiting for the rumours. Also my Comd SPS and the Chief of Staff of the Division need to know. After that we’d let the information filter out.

He called the clerks into his office and they came out 20 mins later. I, of course, was shaking like a leaf, waiting for the backlash. Here are a couple of the comments (all individual, one-to-one):

"I know of a perfect posting for you. A Transexual girl has just left the unit on posting, and they treated her really well while she was being treated. I think the post is vacant. I'll get the details if you like."

"Bloody hell, you have bigger balls than me! And you're gonna get 'em chopped off!"

"Anyone gives you any crap, you speak to me. I'm with you, 'cos that's what mates are for"

So, not a bad reaction amongst them! I almost choked that they were being so cool about things. I'm feeling so relieved!

22 Mar 2007

The Chief of Staff called me in today because my Boss had told him of my plans (at my agreement). His first words were - "You and your family are incredibly brave..."

He went on to state that I had the full support of him and the Genera. If I had any problems with people then I was to speak to him.

One of the guys who was told yesterday felt comfortable enough to make light hearted jokes about my plans - like if I gob off then I won't need the surgery. He thinks the guys should all take me out on the razzle 'to see if you're fanciable!!!' He also thinks we need a Sergeant's Mess coming out party for me!

No-one has been stand-offish, and I'm so relieved. I know that there will be some Neanderthals eventually but hey, that's what makes life fun! Anyway, I'm sure I'll bore you again with my ramblings when something else happens!

31 Mar 2007

Well, I should have known it wouldn't all go so well shouldn't I?

Last Sunday night I decided to tell my Dad about me and my plans. I think fate played a hand as phrases like 'You were a little boy once you know..." and "We can't choose what we are..." kept popping up in the conversation. Don't get me wrong, I had planned what to say well before hand, but was not sure when the right moment would arise.

Anyway, I told him. I expected shock. I expected surprise. I expected a stunned silence. Well I got all that and more. Needless to say, he didn't take it to well. We left the conversation with him saying he had a lot to think about and would be in touch 'eventually'.

His wife called and spoke to me like I was a little boy trying to decide if I wanted to have Strawberry or Chocolate icecream. She even sent me an e-mail asking if events in my life had 'caused me to question my sexuality...' Now these events were traumatic (My Mother, older brother and younger sister all committed suicide, but that's another story) but all happened after I realised I wasn't quite right, quite as I was supposed to be. I wrote a long e-mail explaining EXACTLY how I felt. I sent her some information to pass to my Dad. And I waited.

I got an e-mail off him yesterday. He seems to think that I am being 'talked into this' by some unscrupulous person. He lumps me with homosexuals - and that is wrong because he abhors the homosexual act. It is (he thinks) a psychological problem that a psychiatrist can fix. He thinks I have not thought about this, or researched it. Apparently the information sheets contained some spelling errors, which goes to show that the whole system is run by cowboys. He fears for what it will do to our relationship, and he will always consider me his son.

I haven't yet replied to his e-mail. I understand some of what he says, his confusion is to be expected, but the tone was so humiliating that I don't dare reply until I have considered what I want to say very carefully. I didn't expect him to jump up and down with joy, but I did expect him to treat me as an adult, not a naughty five year old.

He does have a choice as far as I'm concerned. He can accept me as a woman and learn to see me that way, or he can cut me off. In doing so he risks losing his grandson as well. There can be no middle ground. I refuse to be a bloke for him, and a woman for the rest of the world. I AM a woman, whether my birth body agrees or not, that's just the way it is.

On a positive note, my Sister in Law has been visiting and she has accepted me as a woman. All my colleagues are OK about me, and I have my senior commanders on my side helping to sort out my posting at a convenient time to a convenient place.

13 Apr 2007

OK, who said IPL wasn't too painful. You fibber!!!

Had my first session yesterday. My Doctor had given me some 'Emla' cream to be smothered on my face an hour before the appointment. Which I did. I'm so very glad I did as well, because far from being just a little sharp fat-splatter like pain, it was like someone had gone at me with a welding torch!

The couple who were dealing with me were brilliant though. Plenty of pauses, and icepacks for the bit that had been done. Plenty of water to drink as well.

I had arranged to have today off work, because I was told not to shave the following day (and the Army isn't keen on stubble...) So I had a quiet day, contemplating my red, puffy face. Late this morning I got a phone call from the English speaking gentleman who's wife runs the salon. He was just wanting to check I was OK, and that I hadn't had a bad reaction. I thought that was a nice touch. Apparently the next session won't be as painful because there will be less hair to zap.

Anyway. On to other matters. My Dad said some hurtful things when I spoke to him recently, including some nasty things aimed at my wonderful wife. I cannot accept that from anyone, and why should I? Relations with him are now decidedly frosty (think UK and Iran). I had a good chat with my Padre the other day, and he suggests I write him a letter putting down in words exactly how I feel. It's then up to him to decide if he wants to be in our life.

02 May 2007

For me it's been a tough few weeks. I am still at the frozen stage with my father. All I want is for him to accept the inevitable. If I mention anything at all about my plans then he changes the subject. It is very frustrating. I know what a shock he's had, but running away won't help.

I'm still waiting to hear from CHX, and that doesn't help. I'm at a stage where I need to do things, and until I am seen there I am stuck in limbo. I have recovered from my first IPL session, and I am generally pleased with the results. I can now see that it will be worth it.

I'm afraid that I have upset my wife recently as well. I have been feeling very, very low recently. It is difficult sometimes to explain how I feel, and what's going on in my head. Sometimes it is an almost physical pain. She tries so hard to support me and help me, and all I succeed in doing is upsetting her. I love her more than life itself, and I really feel bad for this. I also know that I make unreasonable demands of her (with regard to telling her colleagues). I know this is tough for her, and I wish I could be more supportive, instead of being so selfish and only thinking about how I feel and not considering the fact that she needs support as well. Isn't hindsight a wonderful thing?

A week in bloke mode being <ahem> macho and soldierly on exercise in Poland didn't help. I know it was only a week, and I survived 6 months in Bosnia, but it was a very long week...

20 May 2007

Well, wonders will never cease!

I've just spoken to my Dad. It was all rather civil, but then the surprise... He wanted to know what the IPL treatment consisted of. I explained it to him and his response was "Well, if you have the right reasons and the right amount of drive, any pain can be overcome. And at least you will have less to do in the mornings without needing to shave..."

This might be a minor victory in the great scheme of things, but to me it was a milestone.

Mind you, he did temper his remarks by sending lots of scanned 30 year old photos of me as a VERY young boy.... A little message maybe?

In other news...

Still no word from CHX, which I am finding very depressing. I hate Sunday nights, because Monday is soon to arrive, and with it a return to Bloke Mode. I can't wait for the day when I can bin the bloke entirely.

*************************

Sorry this entry has been so long. If people want me to carry on, I'll make new entries as something happens.

© Legs 2007

Copied from blogs (original entry) - post comments here.

Legs,
Sounds like a tough time and no doubt will be a long struggle.
It might help to keep writing this as it may help someone else and it may help you.
keep writing!

I never even knew ARRSE had a blog thingummy.
That was a great piece of writing I even shed a tiny manly tear.
People are only bigoted against things they do not understand and I think your diary will go a long way to explaining things most of us only ever wonder about.
Good work soldier
See that, "soldier" the word is genderless. :D