"Pat, Sweetheart... Can you hear me?"
I could hear a woman's voice, and I tried to open my eyes to see who was talking to me. More importantly, what woman in her right mind would be calling me Sweetheart!
"Oh look, she's trying to open her eyes."
SHE??? HER??? WHAT THE FUCK?
"Patti, Honey, wake up," said a man's voice.
PATTY? No way was I going to open my eyes now.
This was a bad dream, and I let myself slide back into the void once more…..
...........
When next I woke, I was propped up on pillows in a quiet ward, dark except for the faint glow from the nurse's station around the corner. I was wondering what woke me when I heard a kid scream from somewhere beyond the curtain to my left, fading to hysterical sobbing.
What the hell was going on? What is a kid doing in cardiac recovery screaming his fool head off?
I felt... peculiar, somehow lighter, breathed more easily. If this is what bypass surgery can do, I should have had it done five years ago. I moved my strangely light arms, discovering an IV in my left, then reached down to scratch my itchy groin with my right. Instead of the flab I expected, I felt tape and gauze.
What the hell? I was here for a bypass! Why had they cut below my stomach?
I moved my hand up to carefully trace my fingers across where they told me I'd be wearing my scar, and instead of pain or numbness, my fingers traced the shape of a small BREAST! Not the man-boob that matched my belly, but a real, honest-to-goodness breast, complete with sensitive nipple. I knew it was attached to me from the feeling it produced as it erected under my light touch. This was too weird!
"What did you do to me??!!"
That was the other kid screaming, not me!
I could hear nurses trying to settle the kid down, and as I twisted in bed, I felt a pain in my side. I groaned out loud.
One of the nurses came through the curtain and turned on a light over my bed. "Sweetie, you shouldn't be moving around yet. You just had your appendix out. Do you need something for the pain?"
Huh? My appendix?
"Let's take a look at your dressing. Hopefully you didn't tear your stitches."
As she pulled the blankets off my body, I looked down. I saw two long, narrow feet, straight toes with short, clear toenails. I craned my neck to see more. The feet were attached to two slender, feminine legs, which disappeared under the green surgical gown. They weren't mine. My feet were big, with toes crushed from thirty years of cheap shoes - my legs big and hairy.
"Now, let's see," she said, and as she pulled up the bottom of my hospital gown, I felt the blood drain from my face. I was looking at a flat stomach and a little patch of partially shaved pubic hair. My dick! My dick was gone! I opened my mouth to scream, but all I could do was gasp, and then I heard a little whimper.
The nurse looked at me, seeing my white face. "Are you okay, Sweetie?"
I whimpered again, and she quickly poured a little water into the glass on the bedside unit and then held my head as she held it to my lips. "Here, take little sips, Sweetie, it's okay, it's okay."
As she held the glass to my lips, there was another scream of, "I'm not a boy! I'm a girl!
What have you done with my body?"