Saved

93

It was Friday the thirteenth – Well, no, it was actually Wednesday the eleventh -- that Daina called me on the phone and told me she was going to Denver overnight that Friday to see one of her favorite writers. So he won't think I'm trying to boost views of my blog by dropping his name, I'll call him 'Barry David'. He was a syndicated columnist who wrote humorous articles of reflection and slice of life discoveries. These articles had lead to a series of books and he had become a periodic guest on the cable news network I often watched. Being allergic to newsprint -- No, really, I am! -- I had never read any of his articles but did like his interviews. Still, I didn't like them enough to want to tag along on a ride to Denver and see him, so I turned down Daina's offer.

As the coming retirement of Johnny Carson from The Tonight Show had come to light, I had taken up watching his final broadcasts, sitting in the center of my couch before heading off for bed. I had first become aware of him and his show in Nineteen Seventy-Five after my mother had taken me to the New England apartment while still working on the night crew in my home town. I would spend the evenings with father at the family home and watch the first half hour with him until mother was off work, there was the half hour drive to the apartment town, then I'd watch the last half hour of his show at the apartment as mother got ready for bed. Back then The Tonight Show was an hour & a half and remained that way until the Nineteen Eighties. While never a regular viewer I had caught his show often since and he had become a long time figure in my life. Given his coming retirement, I decided to savor these last few months and made sure to get myself on the couch and watch his show each and every night I could.

On Thursday the twelfth, I realized I missed visiting with my former software start-up company friend, Pat, living in Denver. During the past year & a half I had been going up to Denver for overnight visits so I could get my quarterly supply of fat enzymes. To ease my schedule of taking public transportation for these trips, he had been kind enough to host me overnight so I could make these trips more comfortably and visit with him and his family. But as I no longer needed the fat enzymes to stave off my weight loss issues now that the antibiotics had addressed that, this also meant I hadn't seen him in a while to compare thoughts on recent science fiction books and musical groups we liked. Calling his work number I asked if I could come up for another overnighter that Friday to visit and he seemed happy to have me again. I then touched base with Daina once she had finished her school day and asked, instead of joining her to see 'Barry David', could I catch a ride and have her drop me off at Pat's house and then give me a ride home the following Saturday? She agreed and I set my video recorder to tape The Tonight Show in my absence.

Friday the thirteenth came and after working at the school all day, then going home to prepare an overnight bag for herself as she'd be staying with her mother at her family home for the night, Daina picked me up and gave me my ride. I visited with Pat and his family, debating about philosophy as well as discussing other life issues and his wife prepared the family room couch for me to sleep on as I had often done during these visits. Pat and I retired to the family room to talk some more before he went off to bed on the upper floor and I watched a bit more of rare television channels not carried by my own towns' cable system.

I was still awake but getting ready to go to sleep when Pat's house got a phone call some time after midnight. I was surprised Pat would be getting a call so late in the day. Then he came down and told me the call was actually for me. I picked up the family room's extension and it was Jeff. I had mentioned to him in passing that I would be visiting Pat this weekend and he had remembered it. He told me he had gotten an emotionally distraught phone call from my mother as apparently I was dead, but they couldn't find my body. Jeff really couldn't tell me much more about the story himself as he had a very hard time getting that much of the facts out of my mother when she called him. He recommended I call her and let her know I was still alive.

Calling my mother she was furious with me, ''HOW DARE YOU PUT MY NAME DOWN AS THE EMERGENCY POINT OF CONTACT!'' she yelled at me over the phone. ''HOW COULD YOU PUT ME THROUGH THAT?'' she demanded and paused long enough for me to ask what she was talking about. She wasn't very coherent but I finally pulled out of her that she had been called by the apartment manager and told that they thought I was dead as a result of a car accident and asked her permission if they could break into my apartment as I hadn't been answering the door. I asked if she had the phone number of the manager and as luck would have it the manager had given it to her and I decided I should call her next to find out the full details of what had happened. ''NEVER HAVE ME AS YOUR EMERGENCY POINT OF CONTACT AGAIN!'' were mother's last words to me on the call.

Calling the manager she was relieved to hear my voice and know I was safe and alive. At the time Johnny Carson was on television it turned out a drunk driver had left the nearby cowboy themed club that night and rather than curving to the right when driving home on the road, he curved left, jumped the curbing of the road and planted the front of his pickup truck through the living room wall of my garden level apartment. As the manger's apartment was directly over my own, she and her husband got up to discover what the crash was. The driver had managed to pull himself out of the passenger window of his truck and had begun running the rest of the way home. The manager's husband started to give chase but, given that he didn't have shoes on, soon thought better of it and turned to come back to the apartment building where he realized the front of the truck had broken through the wall where my couch was placed and wondered if I was all right. When I didn't answer the door after his repeated knocking he feared the worst and had his wife dig through my apartment application paperwork to find a phone number to call.

The manager said I should come back as quickly as I could as the police were there going over the accident scene. I agreed and thanked her for the information and then figured I should call Daina and ask her to take me back now, rather than wait until the next day. This being before the days of ubiquitous mobile phones, I cracked open the Denver phone book and looked through it trying to find the likely phone number of Daina's family home. Finding a number, I gave it a call only to get no answer. Did I have the wrong number? I didn't see how but finally picked another phone number with the same last name in the book. It turned out I had reached Daina's eldest brother and I quickly introduced myself and told him the gist of the situation and asked to confirm the first phone number I tried. It was the right number and I thanked him and went back to calling Daina's family home again, still without an answer. Had something happened to Daina as well that night and her mother was out of the house as a result? My mind raced with what this all meant and what I should do. As it was clear I wasn't going to be able to get home anytime soon, and since my longtime friend Jeff kept to late night hours anyhow, I called him back and told him the story, asking if he could go to my apartment and see what was going on for me. He agreed and in the meantime I went up to Pat's bedroom to let him know as well.

Perhaps I should have asked Pat for a ride back home at the time, but as Daina had brought me to Denver, I saw her as my ride back and kept trying the number to her family home off and on for the next few hours, still with no answer. Jeff called back by three in the morning to let me know they had pulled the truck out of the wall and the police were done with their work there. They were just going to leave the hole in my apartment bare with my living room on display to the elements and any passersby but Jeff convinced them to get a sheet of plywood and nail it over the center of the hole to at least partially protect my stuff until I got there. He was heading home himself as there didn't seem to be anything else he could do. I thanked him and noted my problems trying to reach Daina so it seemed I wasn't going to get back anytime soon.

I called her family home periodically throughout the rest of the night with no answer and finally decided I should try to get some sleep myself. I didn't get more than a nap, though, and finally Daina's mother answered the phone soon after seven in the morning. She was angry that I was calling so early but at my request went to wake Daina. I told Daina the news and she agreed to come right over and pick me up. She and her mother had been home all night, but the only phone in the house was on the first floor next to her mother's bedroom, so Daina hadn't heard it ringing herself. I concluded that her mother must be a very sound sleeper.

When we got back to my apartment we first saw the single sheet of plywood hanging over the hole in the exterior wall and found the apartment door, which had been broken down, had been pulled back into the doorway, though it could no longer be latched and locked. The rest of the apartment was fine, but the living room section was littered with bits of concrete, wood and plaster. The spine of the couch had been cracked by the weight of the truck and various parts of my stereo system had been dinged by the flying debris. My computer system, right next to the hole, had been completely spared as the force of the crash had been aimed away from it. In total I had shy of two thousand dollars worth of damage as I later tallied for the insurance claim. As my apartment couldn't be secured anymore, I realized I had to find a place for my electronics and asked if we could take them to Daina's condo for the time being. She agreed and with the first load to her place we picked up her camera to take pictures of the damage as we returned for the second load.

Never before had I gotten an out of the blue opportunity to go to Denver for an overnight stay, and never has it happened since. Had I been home that night there was no doubt that I would have been on that couch watching Johnny Carson as the bumper of the truck would have broken through the wall and plowed into the back of my head. The driver side front tire would have continued to roll in and crushed my spine into my lap. I could never believe it was all just a profound coincidence and have ended up with the only conclusion possible to explain how my life was spared...

'Barry David', at least for that night in my life, was the hand of God.

While I toyed with the idea of writing him soon after to let him know, the events of life soon pushed that thought aside and I didn't get to it until many years later when I mailed him a thank you letter and told him of that night. Though I hadn't included contact information as part of my letter he must have gotten the address from the front of the envelope and sent me back a signed postcard saying ''Wow.''

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Thanksgiving

92

As a surprise gift my not as older brother, who was currently stationed in Washington, D.C., sent my mother and me airplane tickets to join him and his family for Thanksgiving. Now with his second wife and two daughters of his own, he wanted to have a full family Thanksgiving to fill their new townhouse. He also roped in my eldest brother and his wife to join us! While I had seen my not as older brother off & on over the years when he'd visit my mother during some of his leave time, I hadn't seen my eldest brother since leaving New England over eight years earlier. Adding to my anticipation my high school friend, Luke, had also moved to Washington, D.C., with his longtime girl friend as he had taken up a job with the Library Of Congress.

I knew my other high school friend, Van, had visited him from time to time there and pulled out his old home phone number and gave his family a call. I reached his mother and reintroduced myself to her after all the years and then asked if I could have Van's current phone number. She was willing and I was off to call Van. To my surprise I immediately reached him and chatted with him briefly. This was our first chat since his confessional phone call to me so many years earlier. I told him the news of going to Washington and asked him if he had Luke's current phone number and if perhaps he might have the chance to come down to D.C. himself for a small reunion. While he felt the whole idea was fun, he declined and said he couldn't. And for that matter he didn't seem interested in talking about his life either, but he was willing to give me Luke's phone number and wished me the best of luck. I gave him my apartment phone number should he ever want to call me sometime and catch up and he said he might.

Calling Luke, he seemed happy by the news I'd be in town and confirmed that we could meet and catch up on life, perhaps even having dinner. I was thrilled and then realized I'd probably need to pull out a bit of money from my checking account's line of credit to afford side items during the trip. Not ideal, but given this once in a lifetime circumstance I wasn't going to hesitate. As Irony would have it, after a year since the antibiotics, I was back to my ideal weight and my very balded head had sprouted a carpet of fresh hair so when I saw Luke I wouldn't look that much different from the last time he saw me eight years earlier.

Daina agreed to look in on my place while I was gone and get my mail and she gave me a ride to my mother's where we picked her up on the day of the flight. Daina dropped us off at the little local airport and stayed with us until we boarded. The flight would connect with Denver's Stapleton airport where we would then get on a direct flight to D.C.. Even though we had an hour & a half layover in Denver, as a side thought once we got off the small hop plane I suggested we confirm the departure time of our next flight. It turned out it had been canceled due to mechanical problems, but they would be able to get us squeezed into an earlier flight that was leaving in ten minutes. With a brief stop at a payphone to let my not as older brother know we'd be early, we rushed to the gate number and boarded the plane as the last passengers, ending up with separated seat assignments.

When we arrived at D.C., he met us and we went to the baggage area to retrieve our luggage only to find it hadn't made the flight given the sudden change of plans, it was still in Denver awaiting assignment to a future flight. The airline took my brother's address & phone number and told us they'd deliver our bags once they arrived at the airport. We were out of the building and onto the famous 'beltway' highway for the next hour or so until we reached my not as older brother's new place. Along the way he pointed out various beltway adjacent sites to us and even pulled off for a bit to drive us around the Pentagon where he now served. As my eldest brother & wife had arrived the day earlier, we were already prepped for a full family dinner. I found out our tentative plan of events for the week and then called Luke to let him know and better firm up our own visit plans.

The first day our family spent unwinding from our flight and seeing the local sights, visiting the local mall and returning to the townhouse for Chinese take-out and to await the over a day delayed delivery of our luggage. The next day was dedicated to visiting the National Mall, seeing the various monuments and spending the afternoon at the Smithsonian's Air & Space Museum. Of all the wings of the Smithsonian, I think they chose the Air & Space Museum for me and I'm very thankful for it. The next day was dedicated to the Thanksgiving meal itself, with a nighttime drive back and around the capital to see it bathed in golden lights. Friday was a routine day of visiting and each family member doing various errand runs before we again gathered for a meal at an Italian restaurant, and then me itching furiously from the apparent red food coloring #3 in the sauce as we went out to see a movie. The following day was a quick drive up to and around Baltimore before we dropped off my eldest brother & his wife for their flight from the Baltimore/Washington airport. Sunday we gathered our belongings and were off to Dulles airport for our own flight home.

We didn't have any family conflict until Thanksgiving day itself.

Asking my eldest brother about all that had changed in New England since I had left I found out he now had a computer of his own, which was novel to me as I had originally been the only family member with a computer, and then I expressed surprise as well that our rural neck of the woods now had cable television! ''WE AREN'T A BUNCH OF BACKWARDS HICKS!'' my eldest brother snapped at me in reaction to my surprise. I was stunned by this as, for me, New England hadn't changed in my mind since I'd left it eight years earlier. I was delighted by all this news, so I was shocked that he took offense at my questions and tried to apologize.

Later in the afternoon, mother felt the need to bring up her ceaseless retelling of the time she dislocated her knee and how she was alone with me and I just stood there throwing rocks at her as she lay helpless on the ground writhing in pain. A story which she had first started telling in front of me soon after we moved to the New England apartment in Nineteen Seventy-Five, she seemed compelled to tell it to any new friend I might bring home. As I was too young at the time to know for myself what had happened, I had come up with the defense of pointing to the small brown birthmark on her forehead and saying, ''That's where she got that bruise from,'' as my only way of shielding myself from the story.

Given that she had a new audience to tell this story to, my not as older brother's wife and two kids, she couldn't help herself and told it again. As she did, I poised to give my follow-up comment but when she finished I didn't have a chance as my not as other brother burst out, ''That's not what happened!'' She had made the mistake of telling the story in front of other family members who knew better. He compared memories with my eldest brother about the day: My not as older brother had been the one alone with my mother as the rest of the family was away with our father in the Volkswagen bus. This news made more sense to me as I knew my sister had been the one taking care of me until she went to College. My not as older brother had called the ambulance at my mother's request and the rest of the family had arrived home just as the ambulance was loading mother to take her to the hospital.

Mother was mute and paled as she realized the mistake she had made by telling the story in front of my brothers. Not only had it embarrassed her, perhaps bringing her own memory into question, but I now knew for certain that she had been telling this story to all of those friends of mine over the years just to poison me in their eyes, and not because it was true. I had the proof that it had been a false story and she wouldn't be able to tell it again in front of me now knowing I had the truth. Mother just remained silent for the next hour or so until we loaded up for the nighttime drive around Washington D.C..

I visited with Luke midday early in the week, perhaps before the family made to trip to the local shopping mall. He must have gotten some time off from work to meet me as his girl friend was at work herself at the time. We discussed life in general, and compelled by years of habit during our high school time, I brought with me a box of computer disks to show him my programs of the past few years in Colorado. It turned out his plans to become an engineer hadn't panned out. In fact all of my high school friends who had gotten into the 'advanced placement program' I was barred from had all intended to become engineers and all of them had washed out. With some family working in the D.C. area, Luke had fallen into a small job helping out with document preservation at the Library Of Congress and was thinking of taking it up as his profession.

We met again for dinner the Saturday before I left and he and his girlfriend took me out to eat. I noted my attempts to write for television. They also knew someone who had been trying to sell scripts to 'The Other Show' and it hadn't worked out either. I told them of my years of health problems and surprise cure just a year earlier, I didn't explain why it had taken so long for it to have been addressed. I told them I was now getting back on my feet and hoped to return to College to complete my degree. When I asked about Van, they really didn't know what he was up to anymore. They thought that he might have been looking into becoming a veterinarian after his own college plans hadn't worked out, but they weren't sure as Van had seemed to withdraw more and more over the years. At the end of the meal they offered to pay and, given my tight finances, I didn't protest too strongly and thanked them.

We parted promising to keep in touch. He soon moved to Texas for a scholarship in document preservation and a few years later I lost touch with him. When I got home, I would call Van for that chance to better 'catch up', but after leaving a message on his answering machine, he never called back. Given Luke's note about Van withdrawing from his old friendships, I didn't call again and pry, remembering my own times wanting to withdraw from friendships rather than pass on bad news about my life.

On the flight home, this time I was seated right next to mother and she reverted to her old compulsion to derisively dismiss and belittle my two brothers' wives and my new nieces as she did with everyone she met in her life. Having become sick of her doing this over the many years since she took me from the family home to the New England apartment, I asked her if that was all she had for her memories of the trip: Nothing but negative bile and no happy times? This befuddled her and while I had thought I might have to ask if there was a free seat elsewhere in the plane I could take to avoid her for the next few hours, to my thankful surprise mother kept her silence for the rest of the flight.

When we arrived back in Colorado, then caught our connecting flight, Daina picked us up at the airport and took mother home and then me. She offered to take me out to dinner so I could bring her up to speed on the trip. I agreed.

In less than two weeks, I would be reported dead.

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New Choices

91

Working with Jude had been very helpful for the first six months as he confirmed the machinations going on about me in the medical community, and provided me pointers in how to approach wary medical doctors I would later see and help them be more comfortable working on my health issues. But once my health was addressed and restored, we were at a bit of a loss as to what we should do with our appointments. He decided to comb through the remaining medical community and find the perfect primary care doctor to help me with my future needs, unfortunately all he could find where doctors willing to meet me, as the one they had heard about on the medical grape vine, but not willing to assure ongoing medical care.

I felt my visits with the new doctor at the community health clinic were productive enough and I'd abandoned the fat enzymes and associated visits to Premier Medical Center after they admitted their role in getting my previous doctor run out of the state. If I didn't see them any more, then they couldn't ask me who my new doctor was and begin to threaten him. Also as I was easily gaining weight again, I didn't need the minor additional benefit the fat enzymes had given me.

A year after I had first started seeing Jude, I broached the subject of looking into my intersexed situation and discovering what options I had. He noted that we had already looked into it to his level of expertise and didn't know what else there was to do about it. I noted that perhaps I should look into being legally female rather than as I currently was, legally male. He felt that was a terrible idea as women had a lower place in society and I would face discrimination if I pursued that. I pointed out the years of discrimination I had already faced for being legally male while not very biologically male. I also noted I was willing to look into being more physically male as well. It was just a case that I wanted to look into my 'situation' further and find out my options.

I had spent my first decade since puberty hiding and ignoring my 'situation', functionally in denial about it even though I was consciously aware of it and wondered about it as the decade passed. Then I spent the past few years focusing on my health problems and putting those issues aside. At the time, there was no need to worry about my 'situation' then as I concluded I'd likely die before I'd have to face it. But now as it was clear I was going to live a full life, unless I was unexpected killed in a car accident, I felt I should look into my mixed-sex situation and address it now, before I entered a life long profession.

But Jude was generally freaked out by the concept and said he wouldn't help me with it, that I should just continue my life as I had been during my first decade since it had cropped up: Keeping my breasts bound, perhaps putting on a fake, more masculine sounding voice, continue to shave only once every few days to let the little bit of stubble make me appear more manly. But I found, after the experiences I had gone through, the last thing I had wanted to do was just return to living a life of denial when it came to the issue.

But he was clear, he would not help me consider and look into my options in that respect, but I could continue with him on my health issues and counseling on doctor interaction issues.

Thinking it over on my own for the next few months, I concluded to find myself a second counselor who would be willing to help me with this desire to explore my options. I was once again to the phone book & physician referral helplines and was back to leaving messages on answering machines, just giving my first name and the area of counseling I was interested in. There were no professionals in town trained to address it so I wasn't surprised that I got back even fewer return calls than when trying to find a counselor for my medical doctor issues. This time I didn't even get return calls from people polite enough to let me know they weren't interested. Then one psychologist called me back and was willing to mutually look into my options as he came up to speed on them himself.

We agreed on a date & time for an initial visit and when I got to the address I discovered it was the same small Victorian house where I had seen the psychiatric nurse four years earlier! I suddenly felt my stomach twisting and debated not staying for the appointment as I wasn't comfortable with the thought of being involved with anyone even indirectly associated with the physician who had originally defrauded me, even if they had later told me they regretted that association. Yet, she was merely someone who worked in the office next to the one I was going to go to so was it really an issue? I concluded to go into the building and walk to the waiting area next to her office door. It turned out there was a new name on the plaque outside and I wondered if she, too, had been run out of town for her barely supportive role in my health issues. Either way, with her gone, my fears of this new counselor and her gossiping about me after each appointment vanished and I settled into a chair as I awaited to be called into the new counselor's office.

I'll call him 'Samuel'.

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Hardened

90

I realized I was a changed person after all of what had happened to me. It wasn't simply a case of cognitive changes where I used to have near photographic memories of many of my childhood experiences, and remembering word for word many of the key conversations I had with friends and family members at the time. With my years of emaciation these had now faded to impressions and gist. But my personality had changed as well.

I used to be the tag along kid always willing to help and try something new. While I was still willing to tag along, help and try new things, I now did so with caution & measure. Whereas I used to always trust adults and 'my betters', I now realized I often had a greater grip on the facts and trusted my own judgment on things rather than blindly taking theirs. If something didn't agree with the way I saw things, I was willing to change my mind if they were willing to provide the evidence, but I no longer assumed they were right and I must be mistaken. Where I used to not care for metal rock, with shrieky lyrics of betrayal & rebellion, I now found I identified with it all too well.

I had hardened.

Not as an impervious rock, but more like tempered steel. If the need arose, I was willing to smash and cut my way through a situation if I had to, metaphorically speaking. I never again trusted a doctor to tell me a test result, I would always get my own copy of the result ahead of time to review and research for myself. Then when I'd see the doctor about it I would discuss the results from a position of knowledge, rather than as a trusting, mute, empty-eyed recipient. Many doctors don't like knowledgeable patients, I have no tolerance for those doctors either.

While in the past I would often take a seat and watch what was going on around me as an observer, now I watched more as a cat willing to have my curiosity filled with the observation, but also willing to leap, attack and kill if I felt the need to get involved. Again, metaphorically speaking. Some friends have been surprised by this as they take me as the same 'go along to get along' person. At least Ninety percent of the time I would just seem like 'me' yet, if needed, I let them know where I stood. They would be flustered for a moment and then have to accept it. I don't now if it was the right lesson to have taken from the first twenty-seven years of my life, but it was the lesson I took just the same, and I've never regretted it.

From this point forward in my life, I've striven to tag everything I've heard. No longer do I hear things and then pass them on without thought. Now, if I've not verified it for myself, I'll note that 'Bob told me...', 'Jill said this...', always trying to keep the source of the information associated with the information itself in case... Just in case it turns out to have problems. And yet, once I've checked into something myself, all tags are discarded and I present the information as fact, no equivocation, no supporting sources cited. If you don't believe me, then look it up for yourself. I already have, likely.

For years I could be embarrassed or flustered as anyone else. But after my many failed physical examinations with doctors, I find nothing embarrasses me any more. If I turn out not to be aware of something or have the facts wrong, I quickly admit it and have a little laugh at my own expense on the side. I like to think of all of this as gaining self confidence and applying it, some people see it as threatening and are wary of me. Sometimes it's just as well but very rarely it's not and I miss an opportunity I would have liked. But in the scheme of things, I find those lost moments an acceptable cost for what I've gained.

I've gained the person who I am today.

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