by Scott Newgent
As the white-clad nurses hovered over me, adjusting my IV lines and whispering in hushed tones, my mind began its slow journey back to cognitive clarity. Under normal circumstances, the aftermath of a surgical procedure involves a period of several hours before the doctor arrives to deliver the results, a time filled with anxious anticipation. But this surgery was not the norm. Little did I know that this seemingly ordinary day would transform into one of awakening and shifting perceptions.
Rewind a year and a half. The year was 2017, and my computer screen sparkled with hope and promises of a better future in the form of unicorns and glitter bombs. Sprinkled across various blogs, chat rooms, and medical websites were uplifting narratives about the wonders of FTM “bottom surgery” or phalloplasty, a magical surgical procedure that transposed genitals from female to male.
The invisible pull of acceptance, the yearning to align the physical reality of my lesbian body with my inner desires to be a man, and the dream of being recognized as such with all societal straight privileges were so strong that they clouded my judgment. The sheer magnetism of these subtle pushes and pulls did not lead me to dig deeper or question the rosy narrative that dominated the cyber world.
Back in the hospital, I lay moaning in agony from both this new surgery and the stubborn bladder infection stemming from the original phalloplasty. Far from a “magical” surgery, it’s in reality a completely experimental surgical procedure. Resilient and relentless, my 17-month infection scoffed at even the most robust IV antibiotics. It was a suffocating cycle of exhaustion, sleepless turmoil, and unbearable pain.
As the nurses fussed over me, I could gradually feel my consciousness returning. It was an almost metaphysical moment, as if I was being summoned back to life. “He’s waking up.” Indeed I was, in more ways than one.
Hovering over me stood the sole surgeon within a radius of 600 miles who accepted the challenge to assist me. While other urologists expressed their willingness, I was met with the disheartening response, “I’m sorry, but phalloplasty is an experimental procedure and I’m not qualified to help,” pushing me back into the hands of the original surgeon who had previously performed the procedure. Unfortunately, his so-called surgical talent, a surgeon unbeknownst to me who had nine medical malpractice cases in California and was banned from conducting surgery there, moseyed on over to Texas, where the Tort Reform Act makes medical malpractice cases difficult to win if they are performing experimental surgeries, and his talent had led me to the brink of death.
This new doctor said: “Scott, I have great news! We finally found the cause of your pain and recurring infections. It turns out there was a buildup of six inches of hair inside your urethra. But don’t worry, we took care of it! I believe this means you’ll start feeling better now.”
You see, I was not just fighting for my physical well-being in my search for a solution, it turns out I was fighting for my soul. It was only as I started to recover from the repair surgery that I became aware of all the losses I had suffered and the hardships I had endured. Everything I had built in my life: gone. It was a devastating day, where I realized I had to start my life afresh.
In our society, influenced by heavily censored media and the dominance of social media that only focuses on the glitter, little awareness exists regarding the realities and complications of gender transition. The information is not readily given, and one must search for the truth.
On that hospital bed, after the repair surgeon left, I still was not in the right frame of mind to acknowledge my new reality. It was only after I was finally discharged that I started to relentlessly dig into the grim truth of medical transition and the sheer experimentalism of the encouraged surgeries that result in many serious complications.
Sometimes, the shadow of death brings a sense of acceptance without the desire to make things better. But starting that day in the hospital, everything changed. I knew I had to face the consequences of my actions and decide what kind of life I wanted to lead moving forward.
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Scott Newgent is a transman, medical transition survivor, lesbian and mom who advocates against sex change medications and procedures for children. Newgent was featured in the 2022 documentary “What is a Woman?” Learn more at ScottNewgent.com.
Image “Scott Newgent” by Scott Newgent.
