Some Observations:

Unexpected voice training side-effect #2

When I got my new car, I was delighted to learn that it came with a hands-free voice assistant. You press a button, and then the scene plays out as follows:

Car: Beep boop. “How can I help you?” Me: “Play that one sad song. I know, I know. That’s the kind of day it is.” Car: “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand.” Me: “Play that one song.” Car: “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand.” Me: “Just cancel.” Car: “I’m sorry-” Me: “CANCEL!” Car: “Cancelling.” Beep boop.

See, as awesome as this feature is, it really struggles to understand anything I actually say.

Until I started using my girl voice.

Legitimately! I’m not sure if this is simply because it’s in a higher pitch now (and the microphone can pick it up better); or if it’s because my accent has been slipping (and the original training data was chiefly American). Whatever the case: it’s a a welcome and unexpected reward for the work I’m putting in!

We have been laughing all evening because my wonderful, sweet, lovable idiot cat fell asleep in the crook of my arm - despite his eyes being wide open!

Just imagine gentle snoring from this little guy as he disaffectedly stares a hole through time and space itself…

Cold: addendum 2

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the phlegm from the damned cold I had six weeks ago is still present and still interfering in my singing practice. And now there’s a new issue: when I hit that A4 / B4 danger zone, now my voice cracks! I thought the weird Chewbacca noise was bad...

There’s not much to do but persist; but it feels like a significant portion of my lessons to date have consisted of trying to work around this issue and it’s really, really beginning to wear on me!

Ah; it’s good that you have some prior experience when it comes to administering injections! Honestly, self-administering isn’t that that much more challenging per se; the main issues are just (a) that sometimes you are working at an awkward angle, and (b) overcoming the psychological barrier to causing oneself discomfort.

It’s really interesting that you bring up the Bionix ShotBlocker, by the way - that was invented in my town! I have a colleague whose daughter is a patient at a pediatric clinic involved in its development; the kid absolutely swears by it! If you end up giving that a go, do report back and let us know how it works.

why the fuck did I willingly switch to injectable estrogen im fucking terrified of needles

Post-meeting meeting

A coworker called me today post-meeting just to complement my choice of floral top. It was highly unexpected, but quite welcome!

(An unfortunate consequence of moving to a remote working environment is that there are very few opportunities for these sorts of small but significant personal interactions. So this made a very pleasant change of pace!)

Nice moment

Our youngest cat was crying for attention from the kitchen this morning. I walked in to find her on the countertop, and when I came near she put a paw up.

I think I understood, so I bent down a little and she jumped onto my shoulder. Then I walked over to the fridge, and she jumped on top of the fridge.

Now she is singing from on top of the fridge. I’m not quite sure what happened, but it was a nice moment we shared.

Unexpected HRT side-effect #14

I have a lot of insecurity about is my hairline. I am, in retrospect, very lucky; I had very thick hair growing up, and even though it thinned over the years, I avoided the male-pattern baldness that struck my siblings. That’s no meager blessing for a trans woman that began her journey late in life.

However; at the time I began my transition, it had thinned extensively; especially at the peak. This really didn’t do any favors for my self-consciousness at the time.

Now, strictly speaking, some level of hair restoration is not uncommon with HRT; however, it’s far from guaranteed, and there’s no set timeline in which it might happen. After a year, I felt like very little had changed (which I attributed to the original loss being caused by damage, and not years of testosterone poisoning).

Imagine my surprise then at seeing an older picture of myself, and realizing that the problem then was a lot more severe than it is now. It’s a very difficult thing to gauge, but it feels like maybe a few long-dormant follicles have sprung back to life!

More generally, it seems that many of the hair-related side effects of HRT just take a long, long time to kick in. I had some hairs on my shoulders and upper arms; and as they were still present six months into my HRT regimen, I planned on having them removed. I recently discovered that they seem to have mainly disappeared of their own accord; so evidently I just need to be patient about these things!

Another Test

It came to my attention this afternoon that a colleague had left the office on Friday, feeling unwell; and come Saturday had tested positive for COVID. This individual is someone that works two offices down for mine and is often in close proximity.

This meant, of course, that it would be wise of me to go get tested again. The last time I was tested, it triggered a lengthy flashback.

(As always, I stress: my response to these kinds of medical scenarios is a result of my PTSD, and not an indictment of medicine. Get tested, get vaccinated, protect yourselves and others!)

Anyhow: I wasn't super thrilled about this turn of events, and let my boss know that I was heading out and most likely would not be back for the day. He did very kindly point out that we had some test kits in-office (allegedly; nobody seemed to know where); to which I countered that the last thing my coworkers needed to see was me in tears.

Fast forward: the system for registering an appointment at the test site worked well this time; and apart from a small hiccup (they had moved a mile down the road to a new location), everything was pretty much the same. The technician asked me to sit in the car and came back with a swab and sample vial.

Now, here's where things differed slightly: when my spouse was initially tested (all the way back at the start of the pandemic), the swap took the form of an elongated Q-Tip. Having this pushed all the way to the back of the sinuses was unpleasant; but I understand the discomfort subsided quickly as soon as the test was completed.

When I was tested for the first time, the swap had clearly been updated with comfort in mind: there was a thin, flexible plastic stem with a small, soft, sponge on the tip. It wasn't inserted fully into the sinus, and frankly, there was no pain or discomfort to speak of.

This is what I was expecting to see again; so imagine my unpleasant surprise when the technician withdrew from its sterile wrapping what I can only describe as a fiercely-bristled pipe cleaner.

The technician proceeded to tell me to hold my breath for five seconds, which was also a new and highly discouraging change in procedure.

I warned her that I might be somewhat unresponsive after the test was administered and not to take that personally; and she understood. Then came the part where I tilted my head back, closed my eyes, and felt this monstrosity enter my left nostril. The technician counted to five while sawing this thing back and forth along every side of my sinus cavity.

To be clear: I am no stranger to unpleasant sensations (which I will note shortly). This, however, was absolutely misery-inducing. I broke down crying the moment the technician turned away from me.

Six hours later, and my sinuses still hurt. They itch, constantly; and my nose has been running all evening. I cannot possibly fathom which person thought it was a good idea to take what was already an invasive, annoying test - and make it infinitely worse.

Sleeping arrangements: addendum 1

This has obviously been on my mind, but it was only very recently that I was able to connect all the pieces.

I believe that I was subjected to some kind of trauma during my early childhood. I have no memory of these events; but evidently they left some kind of impression on me because I experience flashbacks.

Some factors that trigger these episodes include high levels of general stress; moments of emotionally-charged interpersonal conflict; and nighttime. (Also: certain bedroom activities that are probably best skipped here.)

Well: I have a lot of undischarged stress at present; so come nighttime, things get... flashbacky. Generally what happens is that the spouse and I end up falling asleep like this:

Now, I really want to stress that my spouse is awesome; they always makes sure to communicate that I'm safe, and if I want to be closer that's okay, and if not, that's okay too. There's nothing they’re doing in this scenario that's an issue.

For me though... Well, as the diagram indicates, there is a Zone Of Safety at the corner of the bed and moving outside of it induces anxiety.

When the flashback reaches peak criticality, I'll move off the bed entirely and on to the floor. (It used to be that I would relocate to our walk-in closet, but apparently the space between the bed and the wall is now sufficiently protective per my brain.)

So here's the last piece of the puzzle: when trying to explain this situation to a friend last night, it occurred to me that I had things the wrong way around. The problem is not that I have to be on the floor; the problem is that I can't be in bed with another person.

It's not safe.

...And that brings us full circle. As I stated: I don't know what the nature of the initial trauma was that began things. Based on this latest clue however, the implications are clear... and I can't say I like them.

Band-aids

I’m eight or nine sessions into laser hair removal on my legs; and minus some sparse patches that have so far escaped destruction, my getaway pins are now effectively hair-free.

This has an unexpected upside: Band-aids are trivial to remove.

Which is good, because I have to stick one on my leg every two weeks due to my shot!