Here’s a picture of me at the end of the day. My eyes and forehead are better, but my lips are numb and my cheeks hurt and my jaw and chin are puffy. There’s only so much cable television that one can watch, you know? Mary Jo says I’m nuts about the “Ray Liotta” look and said any fool can see I look like Joaquin Phoenix, instead.

Saturday FFS

Woke up with all sorts of creative ideas, like why can’t our PDA’s monitor our heart and gut sounds and call our doctors (or us) if we aren’t right? Or what if transsexuals were like the DNA in Jurassic Park, and we represented some sort of evolution? At a much lower level, I heard my gut boiling, the first time since surgery, and the image of a galvanized rubber production plant came to mind. OK, the creativity may have had something to do with surgery and Percocet, but I started the day excited and ready to write.

I took a bath, washed my hair, cleaned all my wounds, got dressed, then promptly lost the will to do anything, and took a long nap.

Ok, the day of creativity didn’t happen, mostly because just about the time I get a burst of energy, my lips or jaw or chin start hurting, and I use vaseline, saline, hot water rags, Q-Tips, and whatever else I can find to help. Since I can neither blow my nose nor sneeze, I have to shoot saline up my nose to irrigate and then clean up with Q-tips. I am still having trouble drinking, so things go very slowly.

I did finally manage to get out for a few minutes this evening. I got my clothes on, bandaged up my face, took my key and wallet and went down the elevator to buy some cokes and more ice cream at the desk. It was kind of a strain, I’m embarrassed to report.

I also learned that Mary Jo took my driver’s license back to Bedford Falls with her, as she was carrying it for me on the day of surgery so I couldn’t lose anything. Flying home on Wednesday, it appears I’ll get to navigate the TSA maze of security as not only a tranny who has had surgery, but also as someone with no photo identification. Oddly enough, I think it’s going to be ok, as the TSA says it “prefers” these kinds of identification, but if you don’t have it, or have forgotten it, you can go through with an extra layer of scrutiny.