Loving Him (FTM) (Wattys2015)

Part Nine

Stepping off the elevator, I decided that I was thirsty, so I headed toward the water fountain. Though aware I couldn't put off seeing or speaking with Spencer's mother indefinitely, I wanted at least one more minute before doing so. By the time I stood while wiping at my mouth with the back of my hand, I spotted movement from the corner of my eye. Turning left, I noticed Damon headed toward me, one dark brow lifted as he made a point of checking his watch.

"Where did you walk to for that air? Alaska?"

I wanted to smirk but needed to conserve my energy. "Anything happen?"

He shook his head. "No further updates. Spence's parents, Tim, Harold and Harold's fiancee are here and your parents arrived a couple minutes ago."

Harold was Mr. D's and that woman he's married to eldest son. Named after his father, he was a junior. His fiancee I met earlier at the restaurant and thought they made a sweet couple. We had all been laughing, chatting and scarfing down delicious eats and a few hours later here we were gathered at the hospital hoping and praying that our beloved birthday guy would survive. Amazing how something can change in an instant.

"Is everyone up to date? I mean on precisely what happened?"

A sigh pushed from his mouth, Damon rubbed the nape of his neck. "Yeah, that wasn't the most pleasant conversation."

"How is she taking it?"

Although there were three 'shes' waiting for information on Spencer's condition, Damon immediately understood which I referred to. "Mostly quiet. She's been crying. Noticed that Mr. D hasn't comforted her. Not even sitting next to her. Instead Tim is by her side while Mr. D is either attempting or pretending to read a magazine on the other side of the waiting room."

Hmm, had the senior Harold had enough of Grace as well? Thought that might have delighted me somewhat, but surprisingly it didn't. It was just...sad. Sad because it didn't have to be this way. We didn't have to be there wondering how Spencer was getting along if she had only continued being a mother to her child regardless of gender preference.

Spencer could be at home in his room surrounded by the posters he adored, his blue walls, his carefully crafted model cars and the clothes he picked out for himself. He should have been enjoying his birthday presents while his parents were sans tears and behaving like the loving couple he once mentioned they were.

All this unnecessary sadness because she chose to force her youngest to remain her daughter, inevitably causing him to opt escaping this world.

I took several deep breaths when Damon asked if I was ready to join everyone else. Although my blood was on the verge of boiling while pondering Grace's actions, I reluctantly nodded. Couldn't stand next to the water fountain forever.

Arriving at the waiting room far too quickly, I observed our group had it to ourselves. Timothy and Grace occupied chairs against the wall to my left while Mr. D was seated almost opposite them on the right, sure enough looking down at an entertainment magazine. Harold Jr. and his fiancee Lisa sat at one of three round tables situated around the spacious room. As for my parents, they were quietly conversing with each other five chairs down from Mr. D.

A television attached to the wall in a corner of the room was on and turned to a news channel, but no one seemed to be paying the evening reporters any attention. However, everyone noticed mine and Damon's arrival.

I received hugs from everyone except Grace, which I was grateful for. She approached to thank me for finding and saving her daughter (deep down she must have been endeavoring to press my buttons) but obviously sensed that I didn't care for her arms around me.

While I chose to sit next to my folks, Damon joined Harold Jr. and Lisa at the table, the three soon trying to distract themselves with a deck of playing cards Lisa found near the coffee maker. They had just agreed to play Straight Rummy, Harold explaining the rules when Dr. Bell entered the room dressed in sky blue scrubs, the straps of a mask looped around his neck and a plaid patterned blue, yellow and white surgical cap covering his mostly silver head. When he introduced himself, I pretended I didn't know him.

"I don't understand," Grace said, frowning. "Why does my daughter require a plastic surgeon? We were told the lacerations were mostly smooth and thanks to her girlfriend," she pointed toward me, "compressing the wounds, the bleeding had significantly slowed. Seems repairs would be rather simple."

Because I desperately yearned to correct the pronoun used in relation to Spencer I firmly bit down on my lower lip in an effort to keep my mouth shut. After all, on his parents medical insurance it stated Harriet Diamond, so to combat any possible confusion from staff, it was probably best that I not correct his mother. Even if I really really super duper really wanted to. A hand slipping into my own offering a comforting squeeze, I looked down noting that it belonged to Damon.

Expression sober, Dr. Bell focused on Spencer's parents. "His--her surgical team consulted me and following a thorough examination it was concluded that the wounds caused by the knife were much more extensive than originally thought. On the surface the lacerations appear smooth, but within there is substantial damage."

Finally standing next to his wife whose eyes had begun to water, Mr. D wrapped an arm around her shoulders while troubled eyes stared toward the surgeon standing before our group. "What does that mean? What happens now, Doctor?"

If possible, Dr. Bell's sober expression doubled. "I'll try to save as much as I can, but I'm going to have to remove a great portion of Harriet's breast tissue. The wounds are quite deep and though her breasts remain attached, if she had used the knife just a bit longer she very well could have succeeded in completely severing them.

"I'm concerned if we remove little of the damaged tissue an infection could arise and we don't want that. It could spread throughout her body causing further complications. I don't wish to frighten you, but upon examining the damage it's truly a mess. I'm shocked that--what's your name, honey?" he asked, looking toward me as though this were truly the first time we met.

"Kelsey."

"I'm shocked you were able to subdue the bleeding, Kelsey. Well done." He turned back to Harold and Grace. "It sounds radical I know, but I'm leaning toward a double mastectomy." Although Grace started crying, he continued to speak. "It's in her best interest and the safest course to take. Wouldn't recommend it if I weren't absolutely certain."

"Maybe this is a blessing in disguise," Timothy murmured, not looking at anyone in particular. However, every pair of eyes in that room including my own settled on him. When his mother asked him what he meant, he sighed. "I mean, that's what Spence was trying to do. I mean yeah he wanted to...die, but...he wanted so badly to have those breasts removed from his body. So maybe it's a good thing that Dr. Bell believes a mastectomy is for the best."

I wanted to cup that face, which reminded me so much of his younger sibling and plant a hearty smooch on Timothy's mouth. However, his mother didn't appear the least bit pleased by his words.

"Timothy, her breasts are important."

"No, Mom, they aren't. You know what's important? Spencer not developing an infection in the days to come. Lungs are important, a heart is important, the kidneys are important. Breasts? Aesthetically pleasing but no one actually needs them unless it's a chick wanting to breastfeed her baby. Plus, your youngest child is a guy whether you care to admit it or not. I haven't taken a poll, but willing to wager most heterosexual guys desire breasts to drool over, not have their very own set attached."

Okay, if I weren't so head over heels in love with his little brother I might have been inclined to make out with Timothy right there in that waiting room.


##########


While everyone talked amongst themselves after Spencer's parents agreed (Grace reluctantly) that Dr. Bell should do what he thought necessary, I followed him, calling out once he rounded a corner. The most grateful smile crossing my lips, I thanked him for going along with my sneaky plan.

He shook his surgical cap covered head. "Can't remember the last time I doled out such a heaping plate of bullshit." I managed to smother a laugh while thinking the curse word didn't sound right coming from his lips as I had the strong feeling Dr. Bell wasn't accustomed to using foul language. I couldn't pinpoint why. Just felt it deep within. "Let's hope they don't try to research what I said."

"I'll monitor their Internet usage." I wondered if my eyes twinkled as I regarded the tall and lean surgeon. Wanted to kiss him too as he was about to make a great wish of Spencer's a reality. This birthday went from good to horrible and was now headed in the direction of awesome. "I can't thank you enough, Dr. Bell. This is...no words could encompass how incredible it is what you're doing for Spencer." My vision blurred with joyous tears. "You're saving him by giving this precious gift. You're a rockstar."

Smile returning, I studied the redness creeping upon his face. "Just keep your mouth shut so this rockstar won't be in danger of losing his medical license." A faint smile in place, Dr. Bell winked at me as I profusely promised. I wouldn't be telling anyone including my own shadow. Hell, I might not even share our arrangement with Spencer.


##########


Lisa beating her fiance and Damon over two games of Straight Rummy, I joined them for cheap poker. By cheap poker, I mean the largest pot won so far was worth eighty-five cents, which Lisa used to help purchase a bag of gummy bears from the vending machine.

Spencer's other siblings having arrived, one of them also settled to play. Two hours having passed, not too long ago a nurse updated us, simply stating that the surgery was going well and barring complications would conclude in one to two more hours.

Since Lisa was kind enough to share with her opponents, I selected a red gummy bear from the small pile on a napkin, biting its head off as I heard Grace speaking about breast reconstruction. Decapitated treat dropped, I turned around in the chair, looking toward her seated along a row of chairs. Phone in hand, she pointed at the screen while talking with her husband who didn't appear quite as enthused as she did by what she discovered.

It was Spencer's bedroom all over again. Or perhaps a continuance with his mother attempting to further change him to her liking, to what she thought was best regardless of how he felt about it. Had she not learned anything? Apparently, she hadn't. Surprised steam didn't spill from my ears, I knew that I was about to blow. Couldn't take it any longer. My tongue would not be held a minute more.

Damon obviously noticed as he placed a hand on my knee underneath the table. Catching my gaze, he offered an imperceptible nod. I didn't have any trouble reading the expression he wore. It plainly read something along the lines of please don't make a scene.

He might as well have not bothered because I didn't hesitate to ignore the non-verbal plea. Grace didn't mind constantly giving her opinion and taking drastic action so why should the rest of us have to be silent? I didn't owe her a solitary damn thing. She didn't have respect for her youngest therefore I was running low on respect for her.

My hand discarded despite having a full house, I stood up as Damon released a low groan. Walking up to Spencer's parents, I came to a standstill next to Grace, eyes focused on the screen where I spotted a before and after picture of a woman who went through breast reconstruction surgery following a double mastectomy due to breast cancer. Reminding myself to deeply breathe, I pointed while asking Grace why she was checking that out. I already knew yet I wanted to hear it directly from her.

Not an iota of shame on her face, she looked up at me. "I've been thinking Harriet could receive breast reconstruction surgery after she heals and we pair her with a psychiatrist to work through these issues. Amazing what they can do with these saline-filled implants. Maybe Dr. Bell could perform the surgery."

"Issues?" I whispered, heart having begun to pound. Just call me a bomb because I was about ready to detonate. From the corner of my eye I could see Harold Sr. glancing between us, looking just as wary as Damon had when I rose from my seat.

"She tried killing herself," Grace replied with difficulty. "Wanted to remove her breasts because for whatever reason she's convinced she's a boy. My daughter is in desperate need of help."

Boom.

"The only person here who requires help is you." In case she was confused over whom I referred to, I wiggled an index finger in her direction. "Because you are stuck in la la land where you are the freaking mayor!"

Her mouth formed into an O as her husband stood up, placing a hand on my shoulder. When he tried to rationally speak, I shook my head. "No, I'm sorry, Mr. D, but I have to get this off my chest. I've kept my mouth shut long enough and she needs to hear this." A squeeze of my shoulder and he actually reclaimed his seat without another word. Eyes sweeping the waiting room, I noticed we had gained the attention of everyone else.

"Kelsey, how dare you--"

"How dare I? How dare I? Where the hell do you get off, Mrs. Diamond? How dare you continuously disregard your youngest child's feelings since June? How dare you refuse to use the correct name and the correct pronouns when Spencer repeatedly begged you to? How dare you take it upon yourself to change his bedroom, his own space until it's unrecognizable?

"It's he, him, his. It's Spencer and he's your youngest child. Your son. Pardon me if this sounds harsh, but you don't have a daughter and it's about time you accept that. Thanks to your behavior during the last few months, tonight you almost lost him.

"And now you have the nerve to sit there researching how to reinstall the two parts of his body he craved to be free of and you know that. You just don't care because it's all about what Grace wants. For a supposed good mother, you have been incredibly narrow minded and selfish where Spencer is concerned. He needs to take responsibility for his actions tonight as it was his decision to attempt suicide, but in my opinion you put the knife in his hand."

Tears causing blue eyes to shine, Grace stood up facing me. Both glaring, my arms rested at my sides while she planted her hands on her hips. "I love my child."

"You love who you want your child to be. I'm not heartless, Grace," I said, removing a sliver of the edge from my voice. "I understand this hasn't been easy for you, but you haven't lost your child. Really, it's just a gender switch. Spencer is still the same funny, sweet and loveable person you and Mr. D raised him to be. He doesn't require a psychiatrist as he knows exactly what he wants. He's not crazy, he's depressed because you're trying your damndest to erase him."

She quickly shook her head. "I only want what's best."

"What's best is for you to support him just like you did when you thought he was a lesbian. According to Spencer you took that well." Pulling in a deep breath, I scrubbed my hands over my heated face. "Do something for me, please. Imagine you've awakened one morning, you rise, stretch and head into the bathroom. Shortly, you notice some things are different. Your chest is flat, a penis and testicles have replaced your vagina, you have more hair over your body and your voice is deeper. How would you feel?"

Her expression thoughtful, Grace sighed. "Strange. Confused. I'd be panicking."

"Feel like you were in the wrong body?"

"Yes," she whispered, tears streaked along her face.

I nodded while blinking away my own. "That's how Spencer feels every single day. What makes it worse? His own mother refuses to acknowledge what he bravely contends with. Instead he hears it's a phase, you need help, you're confused, you're a stranger to me. What if someone said such things to you? What if when you told people that you awoke that morning and discovered that you're body wasn't correct no one believed you? Just brushed you off?" 

Grace trembled like a chilly breeze just struck her. "I would...I'd be lost...and would feel alone."

Phone pulled out, I brought the picture of his arm up on the screen and handed it to Grace. "That's what your son wrote on his arm moments before he attempted a suicidal mastectomy and if Damon and I hadn't arrived when we did, you and I probably would have come to blows over his headstone because unfortunately I'm certain you'd have insisted Harriet Alexis Diamond be engraved on it. You have a second chance to do right by him, to love him unconditionally. A lot of parents don't get that chance. It would behoove you not to squander it."

Leaving her to stare at the screen through a blurred vision, I headed out of the room without making eye contact with anyone. Hurriedly moving down a hall, I soon pushed through a door leading into the stairwell. Relieved not to hear anyone, I settled on a stair. Legs spread, elbows rested on my knees while I linked my fingers, head lowering. Shoulders trembling, I imagined tiny pipes bursting behind my eyes, hot tears making an appearance.

My name whispered, I looked up finding Timothy standing near the closed door with a sympathetic expression in place. Either he followed me, was really good at Hide 'n' Seek or installed a GPS on my person unbeknownst to me. Before I could respond, he held out his arms.

"A hug, Kels? Think we could both use one."

Eagerly nodding, I stood up, arms around him seconds later, our cries filling the otherwise quiet space.


##########


It was nearly four o'clock in the morning by the time Spencer was transferred to the recovery room. Dr. Bell assured us that the surgery had been a success, though he needed to remove a significant amount of breast tissue. Also given a blood transfusion, Spencer was asleep due to the anesthesia and thus far was in stable condition.

Generally, family members weren't allowed in the post surgery recovery room, but Dr. Bell permitted one of us to visit him for just a few minutes. I figured either Harold Sr. or Grace would go. Think my mouth might have hung open enough to inhale a triple cheeseburger when Grace turned to me, insisting that I be the first to see him. Stunned, I softly thanked her before following Dr. Bell.

"They're gone?" I asked as we walked side by side. "Truly?"

Looking down at me, the surgeon flashed a smile. "Yes, truly. We even managed to save Spencer's nipples--trimmed and placed them higher up his chest. Now we'll wait to learn if he has sensation in them. With a double incision it's possible he'll have little to none."

Despite those words, I beamed as though I just won the lottery. I'd read something about a lack of sensation and really that was a small price to pay in order for Spencer to have a chest he could happily gaze upon. No more binders, no more quick washing of that area, no more chest dysphoria. Unbeknownst to Spencer, he had taken a giant leap. I wanted to perform cartwheels up and down those hospital walls as I couldn't wait for him to learn this momentous news.

Outside the recovery room I thanked him again although it didn't feel like enough. Nothing could possibly be enough. He fabricated information and put his medical license at risk all for two teenagers he didn't know existed until the night before. Not only was Dr. Nathaniel Bell a rockstar, he was an angel I wholeheartedly believed God sent our way.

"It was my pleasure, honey. On my way home for a bit as I believe he's in good hands, but I'll return later on today to check on him. You have my business card with my cell number on it. If you need anything, have any questions, don't hesitate to call me. Spencer might require surgical revisions in the future. If so, don't worry about it. I'll take care of him." Reaching out, he squeezed my upper arm. "You have any questions now?"

"Just one. How is it you've hidden your wings?"

Softly chuckling, he wasn't so adept at hiding that blush. "Go spend a few minutes with him. By sun up Spencer should be moved into a regular room where you all may take turns visiting. He'll probably be awake before breakfast is served though I doubt he'll feel like eating anything."

After alerting the current nurse in charge of the recovery room about my entering for a brief visit, Dr. Bell left. One other patient asleep two beds away from his, I walked up to Spencer, heart beginning to excitedly beat.

There he was alive and strong tucked underneath sheets, fast asleep. I hoped he was involved in the sweetest of dreams. Atop the sheets were two clear bulbs about the size of hand grenades, a bit of a reddish liquid in each. I suspected it was blood. Dr. Bell had explained those to me, although I already knew from many hours of reading.

Following top surgery, two long and slim flexible tubes are inserted on either side of the body with a bulb at each end to collect any fluid and blood to prevent buildup inside surgical wounds. Spencer would have to keep those tubes attached anywhere from a few days up to a week and the bulbs were required to be emptied several times per day. Having watched and studied YouTube videos I felt confident I could do it. 

Hand touching the top of his head, which was covered with a blue knit cap, I lovingly gazed down at him noticing the color had already returned to his face. One of those thin nasal tubes underneath his nose aided in his breathing, chest gently rising and falling. "Hey, handsome," I quietly spoke. "You gave us quite a scare you know? When you're feeling better you and I are going to have a talk. For now, you get some sleep and when you awaken, I'll have some awesome news to share with you." I lowered the railing long enough to kiss both of his cheeks. "I love you, Spencer." 

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We're nearing the end, folks! I believe two more chapters to go. Was going for an even ten, but I might need an uneven eleven ;-)