Gurl, Uninterrupted

So a few days after my last post, The Lockdown came. A major turning point in human history. The Pandemic of 2020.

It’s all been such a whirlwind it’s hard to know where to begin. I’ve been alone now for seven weeks. One Monday, I’m celebrating my new life and bright future as a person of Trans experience. Just like that, the following Friday, the whole World changed. While most of those in my world are out of work indefinitely, I’ve been scrambling since the Lockdown began and any time I’ve had idle I’ve shied away from any computer use.

Friday, March 13: The previous day all mass gatherings, including theaters, are banned. All the staff are told to go home and await further news. It came the following week

Monday: March 16: As everything in the state began closing down, I went for my regular appointment for HRT treatment. While at the hospital I realized I was in such a dangerous place that I emailed the doctor and had my prescription changed to patches.

Thursday March 19: The Governor declares statewide, compulsory ‘stay at home’ orders. I’d just stocked up my home prior to the lockdown and so fortunately was somewhat prepared for shortages of meat, cheese and – toilet paper. A damn apocalypse has come and people are hoarding TP. Ironic that TP would become a symbol of this whole crisis. Just prior to the lockdown I’d also just finished building some new furniture and was waiting for a long weekend to assemble it. Didn’t have to wait too long…

With the theater closed and the staff meeting via Zoom, I spent nearly every day for the following three weeks working on ways to continue the many community services my organization provides. In the spare time between meetings, I built the new furniture and finally got to the redecorating projects that had been piling up since the previous Fall. Now both my wardrobe and instrument collection were organized and ready. Nowhere to show them off but there they all were, gleaming and waiting…

The first month of the lockdown was made even more gloomy by the unusually heavy rain that fell the whole time. I kept myself bundled up to keep warm and would venture out once a day to walk down the hill and get a bit of exercise. Every third or fourth day, I’d step into a market and pickup whatever perishable items I needed. At night when meetings ended and there were no more details to obsess over on my latest project, I’d logoff and play music. Thus began a renaissance here in my cute little flat. Me and four dozen instruments, one big happy family…

Once I’d finished my redecorating and cleanup, I had no reasons to present en homme, so I spent all the long weeks in my comfy house dresses and Mary Jane’s. I’d simply throw on warm leggings to go to the store. The ‘social distancing’ meant that folks would cross the street instead of walking past you. This had the effect of making it easier to walk around en femme, as nobody was going to get near you. The HRT treatments became easier as well – my son had explained to me that using the patch might make my HRT treatment more consistent. He was right. The HMO had expressed over a couple months’ worth of patches to me after my last sub-dermal treatment. From the beginning, they were more consistent, free of the emotional roller-coaster I’d been experiencing with ‘the needle’.

Holy Week, 2020: For the first time in a quarter century, I didn’t celebrate the weeklong Easter Holiday at my church. For nearly a century, we’ve been celebrating Holy Week in our Beautiful little chapel and only world wars had prevented it before. Guess this counts as one. On Good Friday, exactly a month into the Lockdown, a close friend died above me in a room upstairs. She was the fourth in as many weeks that had passed since the Pandemic.

April 19, 2020 – Low Sunday: A week after Easter, still reeling from the loss of a friend, a close family member is rushed to the hospital and is slated for a coronary bypass. As I’ve been doing for weeks, I take my walk down the hill to Sunset Boulevard to try to clear my head. While in the drugstore stocking up on coffee and cheese, I walk past a display of ‘Spring’ clothes, obviously ignored amidst the more immediate needs of a health crisis. A cute little sun dress catches my eye and seeing that it’s in my size, I put in in my cart and take it home.

The following morning, I put on the new dress and check the fit in the mirror. It fit perfectly. To my pleasant surprise it also revealed the effects of therapy: Staring back at me in the mirror was my cleavage, plainly visible without any extra support. The next day I made a similar discovery – While putting on leggings for my daily walk, I notice my buttocks no longer have the ‘flat’ contour I’ve been ridiculed for my whole life. Now they’re round.

I spent the remainder of April and the first half of May in a blur of online meetings, daily walks and late-night recording. With the lockdown many of my recording clients have called me and asked about having new tracks mixed. My physical progress is now quite evident as my body is responding well to treatment.