Beep. Beep. The EKG was like a metronome to the orchestra before me. Teal scrub-clad personnel surrounded the patient on the table. The anesthesiologist had just put her to sleep. The head surgeon, Dr. Fischel Bergwitzstein, had invited me to the Operating Theater to witness his brand-new method in action. –And a theater it was!
“Forceps.” The surgeon looked to the nurse. “Forceps.” The nurse confirmed as he handed the gleaming stainless steel tools to his superior. I watched with anticipation as the glinting metal hovered over the patient’s forehead. The surgeon paused to consult a diagram before making the first move of what would be seven hours grueling hours of precise and difficult work.
Prior to the surgery, I had the honor of interviewing the stunning and brave transgender patient undergoing it. She wished to remain anonymous but she explained to me that it had taken her multiple years and numerous psychologists’ letters of recommendation to force her insurance to cover this procedure. “That is precisely the issue with trailblazing advances in surgery, in particular those that address conditions insurance companies feel they can comfortably get away with leaving untreated.” Dr. Bergwitzstein explained. (I knew this all too well, I was forced to pay out of pocket for my daughter’s rhinoplasty to cure her racial dysmorphia).
“I’m so thrilled to finally have a chance at not vomiting at the sight of myself in the mirror,” the patient confided in me, jokingly I’m sure. How could anyone vomit at the sight of someone so stunning and brave? “I know that recovery is going to take a while, and that I can’t expect the results to look perfect immediately, but it feels like there’s a weight finally off my shoulders. Especially since my insurance is covering it. This would have been two-hundred-thousand out of pocket!” This is exactly why the constantly developing medical field is so amazing, as it continues to grow it makes it possible for more and more people to live the lives they deserve to live. (Or even not live the lives they no longer want to live, in the case of countries like Canada.)
The surgeon placed his blue-gloved hand on the patient’s forehead, gently pulling her skin taught. The forceps opened and moved forward, enveloping their target. “Extraction in three… two… one…”
The eyebrow hair was plucked with utmost precision and placed on a tray beside the operating table. An aide dabbed the sweat off of Dr. Bergwitzstein’s forehead. Throughout the seven hours, I couldn’t look away. There must have been fifteen-or-so hairs removed in total, though I stopped counting after the third recess.
As the patient came-to after the procedure, now in a hosptial room of her own, the attending nurse held up a mirror so she could see her new face. The patient gasped, in awe and in joy. I couldn’t help but smile myself.
Dr. Bergwitzstein emerged, to let his patient know the surgery was an astounding success, and to inform her of the necessary aftercare. After all the debriefing was complete, I was able to get some time to interview the patient again.
She sniffled. “I don’t know what to say. It’s… really incredible. It’s like I look like a real woman.”
Clearly she must have been loopy from the anesthetic or something, because everyone knows that transgender women are real women!
It was truly a privilege to get to see the premiere of this new gender-affirming surgery performed by a master surgeon, and to see the peace and joy it brought to his patient. Though I had been expecting more blood, I will certainly be looking forward to Dr. Fischel Bergwitzstein’s next exploits.
YOUR MOM LAMO! stinky