Big news
Purr, so glad to see everyone here. Cliffy, you've been growing in enormous leaps and bounds since I last posted. On the shirts thing - cool that I'm not the only one who noticed that. Since I got my chest done, I got a black shirt with gray horizontal stripes as a gift from a friend. To my surprise when I tried it on, it made my shoulders and chest look enormous. You're right about horizontal vs. vertical stripes.
I think they don't put horizontal stripes on women's clothing because most women want to slim down. I hadn't thought about it except when wearing that shirt, but it's a good thing, a subtle thing that may help me pass.
I still have trouble passing on days when I'm sick. Wearing a Charlie Brown shirt might actually help people cue that "this is a sick dude hunched over in a power chair" instead of "little old lady."
Lots of personal news. First, I got recommended to a nurse practitioner, Dr. Wu, who specializes in helping transguys transition. She talked to me about the dosage in my Androgel and explained it was a minimal, maintenance dose. Not enough for me to actually transition. So she put me on the shots. Because I can't self inject, I go in to the clinic to have a nurse shoot me in the butt. This is expensive - $4 a round trip on Paratransit and expensive on body energy for the past few months of going every week.
I am starting to get a little more body and facial hair though. I've got the facial hair of a fifteen year old instead of a thirteen year old.
I started therapy at the gender-focused clinic. They do diagnoses and more, I'm there for PTSD. Julie is awesome. The first thing she decided to do as my therapist is to do the paperwork to get Ari official as a support animal. He is an Emotional Support animal, when I get the papers I'll be entitled to take him anywhere, even into my clinic visits or on public transportation and everything. Most of all if I get city housing and they don't allow pets, he gets in like a seeing eye dog.
My writer friend Nico says "You got a Prescription Strength Cat."
He is too, he notices if I'm in too much pain and will get my attention fast. He'll put his warm fuzzy tummy directly on what hurts sometimes. If I'm depressed, I will get head bonked and purred at - he can be very insistent about breaking me out of a funk. For all I know, I might even qualify for some financial assistance for his vet visits and stuff.
The biggest Big News though is what I did a couple of weeks ago. I found out online about a seniors-disabled group going to City Hall to speak to the Board of Supervisors - for any Chicagoan, that's the Aldermen, it's the city council. So I inquired about going. The guy got back to me on the phone and was very encouraging.
He said he wanted the Supervisors to put a human face and some real stories to the gaps in city housing and other services. I told him about paying 75% of my income in rent and trying to eat on $100 a month (without mentioning that usually had to do with $60 in Kindle books and other expenses like getting the best cat food) and he wanted me to speak. I asked him if mentioning that I'm trans would be a liability or a benefit. This is San Francisco, after all.
"Definitely put that in. They need to hear from GBLT seniors and disabled. Your group needs to be visible."
So I spent about a week mentally rehearsing. I got so stressed that I goofed up on Paratransit and didn't check the address, almost got dropped off somewhere else, got that sorted out, arrived feeling like a blithering idiot. I should have just said "City Hall."
They were already up on the steps so I rolled up there in my power chair, met everyone including the speakers, and then they did their press interview. I wasn't one of the speakers for the press interview, those were organizers. But I wound up on local TV anyway in the group of them because no one said "roll back here now Rob, we have a presentation" and I was sort of close to the podium. So there I am, wearing a yellow plastic novelty hard hat for Healthcare Action Team grinning like a fool and applauding enthusiastically, on TV.
This did something to my sanity. It brought back a chunk of my soul that I'd lost way back in the wayback. I'd been isolated living with friends or in shelters for too long without public speaking of any kind. I went in. I rolled up the middle aisle because it was the widest and found a parking spot where a chair was removed.
Some really interesting demographic presentations later, they called for the speakers from the audience. "Mobility impaired and people who have to leave early first." Which was me and I was next to that podium so I just rolled over about 8 feet and went first.
"Hi. I'm Robert Sloan. I'm a fifty seven year old disabled transman..."
I'd thought a lot about it but not rehearsed as such, not planned to the word what I was going to say. It was all improv. I never have memorized and read a speech in my life. I just decide what's got to be in it and that's it. I told them that San Francisco was the first place anyone ever called me Sir, that it was where I joined the human race. I told them that I didn't think I'd survive anywhere else in the country.
And then I rolled right on into my budget and my plans for eventual self employment, that when I'm eating on $100 a month I don't have the budget to put anything into building websites or self publishing books.
It was incredible. From behind me this indrawn breath of silence, attentive, supportive silence. In front of me the Supervisors listening, riveted, moved. I was a reminder of why they ran for office in the first place, why they care about their jobs.
At the end, the applause completely blew me away. I'd come in twelve seconds under my allotted 2 minutes, tight and powerful. My voice was strong and I knew how to project from all those previous times I'd spoken about BDSM in the Janus group or done fan art presentations at conventions, the Unitarian Universalist talent night, amateur acting. I'd forgotten what applause felt like. This was heavier though.
This was welcoming. This was my city letting me know this is where I belong. I came home and this is where I belong. I didn't have time to mention that San Francisco is the first place in my life that ever had real democracy, where politics is the city's favorite sport.
Someone told me "San Francisco today is about as trans-friendly as it was gay-friendly in 79 when you first came." They were right. So totally right. It's night and day. I knew it from a distance when I found out things like "city employees can transition on their health coverage" back in 2002. This was when it came home and slugged me in the gut. I belong here. There's no going back.