End of a Hera.

And the she/hé flounced out for the last time.
Hé had actually had the front to shout at me – SAY SORRY OR I’LL LEAVE.

Sorry for asking you to put out the pile of cardboard boxes, which I can’t do, and have been there for hours, and which you have walked past a dozen times…?


Jesus… my final words had to be – look, this converting to a man thing… it’s not working very well, is it?

As ‘ his ‘ girlfriend is an ultra feminist lesbian, I’m not sure whether or not he has to change into a frock when he goes round hers, or not ? Hard to work out the dynamic there tho, isn’t it?

I think that since I went Gender Neutral, he/she had felt threatened.

Anyway, now I’m definitely The Only Gay in the Village.
( NB except when I’m not feeling gay, which’ll be at about 8pm when Wendy gets here )

See – Gender Fluidity has to be the way forward ?!


Sincere thanks to WK for the help too.

Still me?

My lung capacity pre injury was a healthy 6 litres. Yesterday it measures at 2.7 litres.

It’s no wonder I’m a bit short of breath and have no ability to speak loudly. I’m a real mess inside and out.

Its depressing for sure.

I am dipping below the happiness line regularly atm. Trying and failing to stay ‘ up’ – it’s a constant thing that I have to do, for sure.

Still Alice at Richmond Théâtre wasn’t exactly upbeat, so wasn’t a great choice of plays. In it she talks about ‘ missing the Me Before This Happened ‘.  God I know how that feels.

I miss thé pre injury freedom and simplicity.

I saw my buddy from Uni on Friday. He has Grade 4 melanoma, and has 8% chance of another 3 and a half years. He looks really well tho, and feels well too.

My situation or his? I’d choose his. I don’t know what he’d choose ( not that you actually can ). Oh, to taste normality again, for a while, and then die. That would be incredible, and i write that with 100% honesty, as I do this diary ( well except for when I’m obviously just messing about ).

Tests yesterday took hours and I have more today too. Many questions asked, despite them having all of my notes. Makes you wonder how they’d manage if I didn’t know the answers to the questions. I had an ECG and blood taken and urine etc etc. Today it’s a respiratory test.

Thanks to the good looking half of Moby for changing my wheelchair tyres ( I just can’t do it because I cannot move enough to ( or get out of the chair and then take the wheels off now myself )

Lovely to see my long term friend, Angela, yesterday, and also Wendy. Tonight we go to the theatre to see Still Alice ( it’s about dementia ). Blimey, the wheelchair concessions do make it cheap to go to some things, which helps obviously.

Btw I’ve decided to become Gender Neutral. From  now on I’m not a Mister, I’m unspecified. Yes I know I have a girlfriend, but she cannot call me her boyfriend any more. Now she can say she’s a lesbian presumably (?), if im not a geezer .

I bet she’s chuffed about that…

I reserve the right to change back to a man, as well as identify as a female, as well as to just forget occasionally what I am altogether, and just switch from one to the other, or stop in the middle.

Please respect my decision ( tho feel free to laugh, obviously – I think the Gender Neutral brigade – GNB – take themselves a bit too seriously, so I’m gonna buck that trend ).

Russ/ Cathy.

7 more sleeps.

In the morning i go for my pre op tests – blood tests etc – before they admit me on Monday.

They don’t admit you the night before or anything, it’s just turn up and have a massive operation thèse days – which is fine with me. Wendy is going to come and hold my hand, and be there later when I come round, so I’m in safe hands, all going according to plan anyway.

After that I’m not blimmin moving much so that it sets, for as long as I can!


In the interests of KeepingOnKeepingOn, despite my bloody top half feeling 2 inches out of line with my bottom half, Wendy and I ‘ braved ‘ the train, Tube, buses and pavements of London to see Garbage ( no, not rubbish ) in Brixton.

◦ Not sure why she has died her hair bright ginga and got it it 2 massive bun type things – to go with the shimmering ginga dress, but there you go.
She got a bit ‘ political ‘ at the end, and didn’t sing their seminal hit ‘ Stupid Girl ‘ but yes, she’s still got it.

7/10 for Garbage, despite looking like a character from Crystal Tips and Alistair.

Increasingly the disabled area seems filled with fat young females with big hair, not enough clothes, and extreme tattoos. They don’t have any obvious mobility issues, other than being unable to fit through reasonably large gaps – think supermarket aisles. They seem happy enough, certainly whilst standing up and dancing and taking selfies, though always seem keen to sit down and take the weight off their feet, though are pretty nimble back and forth to the bar/ any fast food counter. There is definitely a dearth of visible boyfriends, accompanying them. It’s perfectly possible that they ‘ aren’t that way inclined ‘ which is also absolutely fine obviously.

Hopefully 8 more days til surgery and straightening – being so tilted isn’t great for my psyche, or my bloody spasms.

Wtf ?

Is this a typo or is it PC gone fing mad?

I hardly ever read the paper… but the last time I used to regularly i’m sure this kinda stuff wouldn’t have gone to print ?

Men of childbearing age??? What???

Getting my shit in order.

Today I have lung function tests to see if I can breathe by myself through my surgery, or whether it’s best to put me on a respirator for the duration, in case I kick it suddenly. I use the phrase ‘ kick it ‘ loosely, since I can’t kick anything, obviously.

The operation date is now expected to be September 24th.

Its going to take him about 7 hours, and be very involved, and obviously very traumatic for my rather long suffering body, which can feel the pain that im not actually conscious of.

This week my bolts and screws are moving all the time, and i’m definitely not ‘ well’. I look ill ( apparently ) and am losing weight ( muscle ). The internal inflammation is taking its toll on me.

I feel like I’m sort of on fire inside, though i can’t properly feel it at all – it’s just ‘ there’. My spasms give away that I’m in pain that I cannot feel.

At the same time I’m being ‘ harassed ‘ to appear in post matrimonial court, actually when I’m due to be in Intensive Care…. well that’s not really going to be very likely,  is it?  It’s been suggested that I ‘ appear by phone ‘ … from ICU? Whilst on hallucinating opiate painkillers ? Mmmm – not really legal to start with…..

Seriously, someone from my past needs to give me a break here, I feel.

Some things are  even more important than money….imagine that ( if you will ).

Talking Wills, ive just altered mine again to reflect recent ( well since December 2017 ) events.

Its important to have these things in order before you go into surgery like this – in fact they ask you to make sure you have, so I have.

There are always Winners and Losers in every eventuality, aren’t there?

Thanks so much to my fantastic carer, Laura, who has been just brilliant these last few weeks. And thanks to Hanna, for introducing her to me.