First, if you haven't already, you may want to read part 1 of this story, found here. Go ahead. I'll wait.
Hmmmm hmmmm hmmm.
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. . .
OK, are you back? Good. Now you know the beginning. Buckle up for what I hope is the end.
I had my Reserve weekend this weekend. Just like last month, I was briefing my troops on their appointments for the day. I saw my name on the list under physical exam. My mind immediately thought the worst, "Oh crap! The Doc turned me in! Well, at least I won't be going to the sandbox again. Oh crap! I just did my toes again Thursday." (OPI Argenteeny Pinkini - very cute!).
I made sure my people got the jets ready for the first flight and off to the hospital I went. I collected my medical record at the reception area and the sheet telling me which stations to go to. I needed to go to the lab for bloodwork (AIDS screening?!) and see the Doc. I trudged to the lab first. Now, in the military, we do get yearly AIDS screenings. Maybe because we deploy to places that aren't exactly, . . . savory - Thailand, Denmark and other places which have hot and cold running prostitutes - and they want to be sure. Still, I had had mine done during my normal physical in February. I was obviously feeling busted. The lab tech took my blood sample and I was off to wait on the Doc. I remembered him telling me that he was retiring soon, and had kind of hoped that he was already gone. Many many thoughts were rushing through my head - was this the end of my military career? Would they let the people in my unit know? My wife? So many thoughts were going through that I didn't hear them call my name.
I was walked down the hall by a very cute med tech ("Dead man walking" was on my mind, for some reason) and ushered into an exam room. I was told to leave my uniform on and that the Doc would see me soon. Was she smiling strangely as she said that? Does she know too? I waited for about three minutes, with my heart hammering away and after a knock on the door, in walks the old Colonel - the original doctor. I started to get up, but he waved me down. "I suppose you're wondering why I called you back" he said. I squeaked out a grunt that sounded something like "yeah." He paused for about 20 seconds and said, "Tell you what. while we are in this room, I am your doctor and you are my patient. I am not a colonel. In fact, we're really not in the military, OK?" "OK" I cautiously said. "Since we're not in the military," he continued, "let's do away with the whole "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" nonsense." He saw that I was starting to get upset and told me that it was OK. I wanted to blurt out that I wasn't gay, but he said "Let me show you something" and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. He fished out a picture and said "This is Melody, my daughter." I said that she was beautiful, which was an understatement. The happiness I saw coming out of the picture was almost physical. "She's gorgeous" I said. "Yes" he said, "She was. She passed away almost 10 years ago." I said I was sorry. He said "Last month, when we did your physical, I think you'll agree that what we saw was a bit outside the norm for a male. I'm not just talking about your toenails, but your eyebrows, the lack of hair and your general feminine appearance. It kind of troubled me." By this time, I was pretty much in tears (as I am now writing this). He told me to let him finish and again told me to calm down. He said, "I really don't concern myself much with that. That really doesn't phase me. I'm concerned, because you remind me so much of my daughter, Melody. What you've done to your body to fit in to where you think you belong is just what she did in the early years." I was looking a bit confused at this point. He said, "Let me explain. Melody, my daughter, started out as Michael, my son. She went through the same things you did at the beginning. She eventually started her transition, but not before AIDS took her away from her mother and I. That's why I'm so concerned for you. Forgive me for asking this, but are you using protection for each encounter?"
To say I was stunned was a bit of an understatement, obviously. Finally, it all became clear. He thought I was either gay or a transsexual. That's why the repeat visit and the AIDS test. My relief was immense. I eventually convinced him that I only dressed for fun, had never had a sexual encounter with anyone other than my wife, and was pretty darn straight. I think that he felt relief as well, after I finally convinced him. I was able to show him some pics on my iPhone of me dressed. He said I was beautiful - not as beautiful as his daughter (true dat!), but a beautiful woman just the same. He assured me that what was discussed in that room was in confidence - not only as Doctor-Patient, but as friends.
So, it looks like I dodged a serious bullet. It looks like I get to stay in and serve. I am feeling very, very relieved. Isn't this roller coaster ride called life as a crossdresser one of incredible ups and downs? Life is funny that way, isn't it?
Kathi
Brianna
OMG Kathi! Through tears, I gotta say, you ride the big roller coasters, girl! Once you do retire, you so seriously need to write your memoirs. Should be good for at least 5 seasons on television!
