I’m getting a preventative medical check-up soon, and so I went to the clinic to pay their fee up front, to get my vitals checked, to get told how to get ready, and so on.
It was a very positive experience. Everyone was professional and nice.
- My pulse is fine at 89; a little high but not bad.
- The amount of oxygen my body is sending to my finger (and probably everywhere else it needs to go) is 96 or 97; the point of concern would be 93. So, all good there.
- Blood pressure is 127/80. Good!
- EKG: normal.
Me being a trans girl was just a normal part of the conversation. I volunteered it as a conversational point, and it fitted nicely. Then later, for the EKG (because I supplement my natural boobs with extra volume that I stuff into my bra) I told the nurse: “I’m wearing fake boobs. Should I take them out?” She replied as if that’s the most normal and natural thing in the world: “No, I’ll work around that. Just lift your [top] up for me.” I love this sort of dynamic.
The EKG was not absolutely needed but I asked for it and got it, and somehow I got the vibe that this was one more in the category of “girls helping girls.” The nurse could have said “yes” or “no” but in my case she said “yes” and I got an EKG included in the price, yay!
One of the many wonderful benefits of living openly as the girl I am is that I get to experience a type of wonderful benevolence that I’d never known to exist when I was trying to come across as a guy. Neither guys nor girls were ever that nice to me.
But now that I live openly as a girl, it’s wonderful to bask in the warm glow of inter-female benevolence. The way it’s been explained to me is that most guys tend to be mean to girls, so the only chance us girls have, is if we stick together. Amen to that.
It reminds me of when I ordered two tacos at a drive-through, and the lady was clear that I’m a girl. The tacos showed up lightning-quick and when I complimented the drive-through lady on that and thanked her, she said “oh, I took them from someone else’s order. They can wait a little longer.” This sort of thing happens to me all the time, nowadays. It’s a wonderful and unexpected benefit.
A key requirement for getting such benevolence is to not ask for it. A few days ago it was bitterly cold and a nice lady (not destitute and hence not a charity case waiting to happen) asked me how much farther she’d have to walk to get to an income tax place, down the road. It was light out and would be for another hour or so, but it was still darn cold and the icy breeze made it worse. For her to walk another couple of miles in that weather was something she was fine with, but even so, after I gave her the info she’d asked for and I’d complimented her on her hair, I rapidly walked to my car to start it, turn it around and go give her a ride. Ironically, it was so cold that the battery in my car had died, and … another girl helped me with that. I love my life.