You hear the horror stories of being forced into a pink nightie in the hospital, of being treated as a little nuts by nurses and the rest, but this is not the experience I had recently when a stroke landed me in intensive care and rehab at Evergreen Hospital in Kirkland, Washington. This is in spite of the fact that when I was first admitted for a stroke on April 15 I insisted my name was Nan Louise Hawthorne and only started identifying as myself a couple weeks later.
Part of the reason I got the respect I was due was the stalwart insistence that "Kit identifies as male" by my longtime spouse Jim. That alone speaks volumes of his regard for me since this might have been his golden opportunity to "get me back". His love and loyalty is beyond praise.
I don't know when I remembered I was Kit. Perhaps it was when I had been transferred to the rehab unit, but I began to notice how the nurses and staff carefully referred to me as "he". Short term memory loss is a hallmark of stroke. From one day to the next I don't recall.
I have had to go off testosterone as it may have been a contributing factor to my having a stroke at 62. But I know who I am and am thoroughly back to myself as male. I still wish I could have top surgery but am now aware that my health is touch and go. Men's clothes and short hair and my tiny dusting of beard will have to do... and my insistence that I am a man.
As it is I am proud to have pulled off this post. I have been unable to write anything more than emails. My speech therapist will be thrilled.
Anyway knowing that I can expect the respect I get as transgender from my doctors and from the hospital means all the world to me. Hurray for the Seattle area.
