Tag Archive: Veterans Administration


Okay, I went to the Veterans Administration, like many girls in my position, my younger days were filled with trying to prove how much of a man I was. I spent 7 years as a soldier. My job description ?”Kill People, blow stuff up” the name of the job was “Light Weapons Infantryman” and I was good enough at it to receive several pieces of paper that say how honorable I was at my job. A couple of ribbons, a medal or several and scars that will outlast many of my positive contributions to this world. camoheel

But I digress.

Point is, I had a mole that was doing all the bad things we read about so it was time to go in and get it taken care of. Dr. K (A wonderful young fellow, but oh my gosh, just a wee bairn – so young I wanted to give HIM a lollipop for being so good during my visit) he applied liquid nitrogen, just so dermatology wont yell at him for not doing his job (what ?) and we talked. It was hilarious, after I got over my initial nervousness. I was having such fun with this one. here is kind of how it went down. I requested a screening of my blood to make sure I was healthy enough to start my HRT regime (yes, buying them over the INTERNET – VA does not handle gender issues well, and I do have enough chemistry, biology physiology and anatomy to read such things, self prescribed is bad, but at least I have some training) and helped him figure out the difference between TS TG and CD, then, well, he needed a little more info.

Dr. K – Okay, Mr, uhh, Ms, miss ?

Me – Dr, I am married, Mrs is appropriate Ms is also good.

Dr. K – Okay, and your last name is “R****” (pronounced R***y – it is a French spelling of an old Irish name, O’R*****y) Do I call you Peter or, uhh, (cough)or just stick with Ms.

Me – Dr, I am wearing women’s slacks, yes, they are Gloria’s (Vander…oh never mind, I am such a designer whore) but my overall appearance today is masculine, you may refer to me as Mr R****, Peter or hey you, just don’t call me late for dinner (grinning). If, however, I am here in makeup and women’s clothing, it would be incredibly wonderful if you would refer to me as Ms, Mrs R**** or Sindee. But don’t put yourself out. I do not envy you your job. You have real work to do rather than screw around trying to figure out who your addressing.

Dr. K – Well, Mr R***, I am a little new to this, sorry if I appear to be having an awkward moment.

Me – Dr, I just admitted all this to myself less than a year ago, if you think this is new to you, you ought to try it from 5 inch heels sometimes. My whole life to this point has been a series of awkward moments.

At which point, my dear wife, Sara, can no longer contain herself and laughs out loud. She has been trying not to interrupt because she is worried about possible cancer but having to sit on the sidelines while the good Dr and I dealt with our issues of discomfort, well, it was too much for the poor girl. She later admitted she almost peed herself.

Truth be told, trying to talk to such a young Dr about it almost made me pee myself.

I hope I get him again soon, he reminded me of Anthony Edwards, especially the almost stutter.

On Being Sindee – Chapter 2

Okay, so I am NOT a cross dresser. I am, however, trans gender, I wish, sometime, to transition to being a woman. Obviously I will not have ovaries, fallopian tubes etc, but, for the most part, I wish to resemble and live as a woman. Full time. When this journey started, I thought I may *only* be a cross dresser (Okay, even I am laughing at the “only” – that’s just too damn funny).

That orb is one of my many ghosts at home. I am never truly alone, its a wonderful feeling !

That orb is one of my many ghosts at home. I am never truly alone, its a wonderful feeling !

Yeah, that’s me again, I should put some really pretty girls up here but oh well. I deal with it daily, your only here for a visit, take a pepto and enjoy. And no, I do not hate myself, just wish I would be a lot further along with the hormones and the transition, but it took me this long to make my decision and accept it so a little patience on my part is not out of the question.

Back to my friend asking if I was gay. You know, these labels are tough, especially when we have to put them on ourselves. I mean, we do not HAVE to, but we do. And yes, I DO think about, “How would I answer when asked what am I” ? Am I CD, TS, TG, Gay, Lesbian, Bi ? Or, because I wish to have a man and am becoming a woman, does that mean I am straight ? See the problem ? Actually, I prefer women. That round softness and wonderful smell is a favorite of mine. So, for now, since I am a boy in a dress, I guess I am straight. Now, when I transition, and become a woman, I still love women, will this make me a lesbian or even bisexual ? Again with the damn labels. It is a never ending process of pigeon holing oneself, or allowing others to put you in a convenient cubby.

And, to top all this off, I have no insurance so my only avenue for help is the Veterans Administration. And my GAWD do those people love labels, if you take a drink, your an alcoholic. If you experiment with marijuana, your a drug addict, a hardcore one because you admitted to trying ti a couple of times. If you get into a fist fight because some ass wipe tries to take your purse while your dressed en femme you are labeled “Violent” and YES, there is a red flag on your record for that kind of thing. Violent ? Honey, I am of the school of thought “I can get more money and replace those ID cards, I hate fighting” but because I spent 7 yrs in the infantry and have no problem pulling a trigger on a person who wishes to pull a trigger against me, I am violent.

Yeah, labels, wonderful. here is a label I wish someone would hang on me.

Kind, loving, caring and sympathetic.

I can live with that label

Love Sindee

P.S. I love me, I spent 51 years so far becoming me and what I have isnt half bad. When you love yourself, you find there are no reasons to apologize for yourself. I like that !

Okay, not very unique, best I could do, I guess. Yesterday went shopping (and the day before, I am shopped out truth be told) didn’t spend much but had a good time anyway. Wife and daughter and I wound up at Applebees (Apparently this one doesn’t suck like the one in Reno, where I was told that a rare burger was against Nevada State Law ! Uh, excuse me ? Against the law ? No, that was a company policy you bleach blond ditz) Where we wrapped up the day, had drinks and food, whereupon darling 1 yr old daughter proceeded to suck catsup off of everything handed to her. Seriously, had we given her cookies she would have wanted them dipped in catsup. That’s my girl ! A gourmand in the making, Emeril would be proud.

Apparently "Secret Sauce" was already in use as a trade name, but "CAT"sup works too.

Apparently "Secret Sauce" was already in use as a trade name, but "CAT"sup works too.

So, today I finally call the VA (Veterans Administration, I had seven great years serving this country, no regrets, just wish I had found what I was looking for in my life a lot sooner)and tell them “I wish to speak to a mental health specialist. First question from the operator ? You guessed it…

“Are you a danger to yourself or others at this time”

OMG – only if someone beats me to that cute top at a really wild sale at Burlington’s. Or I get outbid for a really sweet pair of Tory Burch black patent leather pumps. And even then, probably a safe bet that I am in a good mood. So to stem the rest of the questions “Is this a mental health emergency, are you sad etc) I state “I am cross dressing a lot lately and it feels pretty good, I just wanted to talk with a shrink to get a handle on exactly where I am at”. None of this “I cant really say over the phone” or “I am not able to talk about it right now”. No, I don’t want the Doc thinking I am in crises here because, seriously, I am not.

I love being a girl. I love being a guy, I love being a dad, I love being a brother. Lets face it, I am happy. For a lot of the times in life where I wanted something but couldn’t figure it out (drugs, sex, alcohol, etc, other harmful behaviors) and resorted to self destructive behaviors, I could have simply put on a  dress, some makeup and gone clubbing. No wonder I enjoyed disco clubs so much in the 70s, what girl wouldn’t ? Of course, I did the obligatory anonymous sex things, most guys did, the parking lot thing and the coke thing (Seriously, all coke ever did was make my nose numb and make me paranoid, I NEVER found anything fun about it, most pot was more fun than coke for me) And of those things I did, I was able to simply walk away when I was done with it.

Which made me start thinking. Why was I, a no one special, able to walk away from coke, heroin, alcohol and so many other addictive substances without a second look back ? All these things that were supposed to be horribly addictive substances (just use it one time and your life is forever ruined) and I could try em, use em for a short time and then walk away as though they didn’t exist ? Could it be they weren’t what I was looking for ? I know they weren’t but wasn’t sure what I needed.

I guess my forays into abusive behavior were that, forays, a quick raid. I could not find the thing I wanted to plunder, however, so these forays turned out to be pointless exercises, leaving me unfulfilled. But, when I would find some female clothing, and wear it for a while (inside my own place, of course, NEVER outside) for quite a while afterward I felt better. I didn’t go clubbing, drinking, drugging or any of that other bullshit.

Okay, so it only took me 48 years to figure that out, sheesh, am I the only guy who took so long to figure out he was also a girl ? I don’t mean I was born wanting to *be* a girl, I just wanted to express the feminine side of my personality. Weird, huh ? I dont think I am the only one. Which makes me kind of sad. I know why I didnt come out earlier, it was the fact that guys who dressed in dresses were fags ! Well, when I was younger that was a lot more true than it was today, when I was 18 wearing a dress would get you a dishonorable or unfit for duty discharge from the military. You didnt have to even be accused of having sex with another man, just the whole wearing a dress would get you locked up or kicked out. So I know what kept me from coming out.

But even before me, wow, guys would be locked in a loony bin for dressing up. Anything outside the norm for ones gender was a mental health issue, you were crazy if you weren’t like all the other clones. How sad. No wonder men were drowning themselves in tobacco and alcohol as part of a daily regime. Today we are a little more enlightened.

So, all things considered, I made it through my denial and deceit pretty unscarred, yeah, I learned it was okay to be me very late in life, but at least I learned. And isn’t that the point ? I also notice I drink rarely, I no longer smoke, and, overall, the depression thingy ?

Haven’t thought about it in a long while.

Is that the sun rising over there ? On me ? I do beleive it is.

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