Interview

In an ideal world, we would all have access to the healthcare - especially of the life-saving variety - that we need. Unfortunately, this is not the case; and until such a time as we can make it so, all we have to rely upon for assistance is one another.

If you are able to, please consider donating to Sera's fundraiser; every contribution helps.

My name is Sera, you may not know me but you know my past work behind the scenes here and there, such as the Mass Effect trilogy, Dragon Age, Silent Hills, and many others.

I am an agoraphobic indigenous Kanienʼkehá:ka (Mohawk) mixed lesbian who has fought for several years a worsening health condition that is currently killing me. The point of no return is not that far away. I have spent years exhausting any paths and means to get help, enduring extreme and near endless pain. I have sold all I have, spent every dime to my name. I have received various forms of help over the years in this battle, but I have reached the critical point I have feared all this time. And to make matters worst, the family responsible for inflicting a lifetime of abuse on me is stalking me very heavily online, which has not only exacerbated my agoraphobia, but has also made the efforts to build this harder than I could describe. Know that I share as many details as I can while seeking to avoid undermining my immediate safety, I hope you understand. This post is a highly abridged version of the content in the link, the unabridged and unedited version is available below the Read More cut ❤

If you have been following me for a while, you are familiar with my struggle and saw me talking about it throughout the years. There are no other options or help besides this, besides you. I need your help or I'm going to die, this is the last chance I have left. I'm afraid to my core, I still have a life in front of me, dreams to pursue. If you read this far, I know you may be inclined to share and move on, but I am asking you to pause and think if you have a dollar that could make all the difference. I know it can be troublesome to stop and actually do it, I am asking you to please consider doing it.

If you yourself have a health condition, I salute you for fighting your own battle. Regardless of whether you donate or not, if you read this far, know that you are loved.

A warm thank you to @transmechanicus , the kind soul who made this possible. I would be lost and doomed without your help. Erika did not believe thank yous were necessary, but they are. Attempting to save a human being's life is no small act. Whether it succeeds or fail, no thank yous will ever be enough. Even as the pain consumes my body, I am able to feel hope thanks to this. There are no words invented to express this level of thanks, but if I get to live, I will search for it.

(Please don't put tags on this unless it is to actually talk or comment something. As always, kind words are appreciated.)

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Sera Access Life-Saving Treatments, organized by Erika Gordon

My name is Sera, you may not know me but you know my past work behind the scenes … Erika Gordon needs your support for Help Sera Access Life

My name is Sera, you may not know me but you know my past work behind the scenes here and there, such as the Mass Effect Trilogy, Dragon Age, Silent Hills, and many others.

I am an agoraphobic indigenous Kanienʼkehá:ka (Mohawk) mixed lesbian who has fought for several years a worsening health condition that is currently killing me. The point of no return is not that far away. I have spent years exhausting any paths and means to get help, enduring extreme and near endless pain. I have sold all I have, spent every dime to my name. The system, I feel, is indifferent to my situation. I have received various forms of help over the years in this battle, but I have reached the critical point I have feared all this time. And to make matters worst, the family responsible for inflicting a lifetime of abuse on me is stalking me very heavily online, which has not only exacerbated my agoraphobia, but has also made the efforts to build this harder than I could describe. Know that I share as many details as I can while seeking to avoid undermining my immediate safety, I hope you understand.

If you are reading this, you are one of the few people who can help save my life. A single dollar is enough to make a tremendous difference. There is no other options or source of help besides this, besides you. I need your help or I'm going to die, this is the last chance I have left.

The goal is a series of treatments and challenging surgeries that will remove small metal shards near vital organs and bones in my body. It is categorized as severe internal injuries secondary to a traumatic event. As medical professionals have put it, "the lack of immediate surgical intervention necessitates a comprehensive, multidisciplinary treatment approach aimed at mitigating the risk of disease progression and optimizing long-term outcomes."

My injuries are from a car accident which injured me immensely and took the lives of my two closest friends in the world. This page does not ask for the full amount of the procedures and treatments, since it is a very large sum of money that cannot be reached that quickly. The page only asks for enough to get me started in the process and access proper vital treatments in countries of the european union. Adding time to the clock, giving me a chance to fight this battle and launching an important part of the process towards saving my life.

I know you may be inclined to share and move on, but I am asking you to pause and think if you have a dollar that could make all the difference. You may be but a few clicks away from truly helping someone who desperately needs it. I know it can be troublesome to stop and actually do it, I am asking you to please consider doing it.

If this fails to reach its goal, I will die. I'm afraid and I need your help. I still have a life in front of me, dreams to pursue. If you read this far, you are the only chance I have left. Don't underestimate the difference a dollar can make, your dollar could be the one dollar we come short of. The expenses covered by this amount ranges from the medical consultations, medical treatments, surgeries and, of course, accessing said treatment, reaching the places where I need to go. I will have a true chance at fighting for the remaining amount myself.

As for cheaper alternatives, it is mainly temporary fixes that would not fix the issue and waitlists that I would die waiting on years before my turn comes. This is it, this is the only way I have that provides the care I need, in the timeframe I need it, with a success rate that gives me a chance to live.

Thank you for reading this and for persevering in the brutal system we all live under. If you yourself have a health condition, I salute you for fighting your own battle. May we all make it and may we all have the softest of epilogues. Regardless of whether you donate or not, if you read this far, know that you are loved.

I would like to thank Erika, a dear friend who has made this possible at all. Without her, I would be lost. I would also like to thank immensely Milica, who has been on this journey with me for so many years, almost since the beginning. Her medical knowledge and her kind heart, her support and dedication, have allowed me to survive long enough to get to this point. I would not be here still without her. I would like to thank the amazing and loving Dana, who has been here during the good days as much as the bad days. She has been a beacon preventing me from giving up hope. I would have abandonned before getting to this point had she not been there for me. And thank you to Oli, who has been my champion, it is thanks to his help that I can move around where I need to go. A great support and a great friend. I would like to also thank Bruna, a kind heart who has never failed to cheer me on, even when her life was not perfect, she never stopped cheering and supporting me.

I would also like to thank my tumblr mutuals, you know who you are, those who have been in my DMs offering me your kindness, laughter and support in these dark times. Your help has also saved me more than once. You are true blessings. Thank you for never giving up hope during the days I felt like doing so.

You have all carried the torch during the days I couldn't, and for that, I can never thank you enough. I have lived and survived because of you, your help in every form has made a difference in the world. I am ready to fight for my life, and whether I reach my goal and live, or fail and die, know that none of it was wasted. You have all made me a better person and that is the mark of true love transpiring from one person to the next. Thank you for believing in me when I could not. I love you all.

Self-fulfilling prophecy

I’ve discussed before that I administer my Estradiol via intramuscular injection; and that sometimes this does not go to plan. This is not the only HRT-related mishap that I have experienced.

The first few months of injections were without issue.

Thereafter, I started to experience increasing amounts of pain with each shot; and in turn, I became more and more reluctant to - you know - actually stick the needle in my leg.

On the fifth go-around, I realized that I was breaking one of the (many) cardinal rules my endocrinology clinic had educated me on: don’t tense up! A tense muscle is a dense muscle; and it takes a lot more effort (and subsequently, discomfort) to push a needle through the tissue. My desire to avoid pain was, ironically, the cause of a great deal of pain!

I learned to relax, and not to hesitate when sticking myself (seriously, it’s like ripping off a Band-Aid - quick and forceful is so much more tolerable than slow and steady)!

I’m not going to pretend that popping the needle in is fun by any stretch; but it’s tolerable. If I have to do this twenty-eight times a year, between now and eternity, to attain True Girl Form... That’s a price I can live with!

Good thing

I did a good thing today.

It makes me think... maybe I have value after all.

Questionnaire

When I set up my MRI appointment, the scheduler needed me to answer a twenty-five point questionnaire. This is very understandable: an MRI machine is one of the most powerful magnetic devices an individual might interact with in their life; and if that individual happens to have in or about their person items that react strongly to a magnetic field, Consequences Might Ensue.

You can reasonably guess the sort of questions asked:

“Do you have a pacemaker?”

“Do you have any implanted electrodes, pumps, or catheters?”

“Do you have any artificial joints, plates, bone screws?”

Now this is all good and well - until we get to the use of contrast. Under some circumstances, patients can be injected with a special fluid that will highlight the inner workings of the area being imaged. This is generally harmless...

...Unless you a pregnant.

This is why the questions veer towards:

“Are you pregnant, or have reason to believe you might be pregnant?”

“When was your last menstrual period?”

I clocked pretty quickly why I was being asked these questions; and answered with “Definitely not” and “Never” in short order. “Never?”, responded the scheduler. “Yep; I can’t get pregnant and I’ve never had a period. Crazy, right?”

(I suppose I could have cited the time I had menstrual cramps; or perhaps the five days of rampant bleeding that followed the installation of a genital piercing during my younger days. I’m not sure this would have clarified matters any, however.)

Once everything was set up, my health system’s very fancy patient portal sprung into action; letting me know that I had... a pre-MRI questionnaire to fill out. I dutifully did so; trusting that providing a date of “N/A” was enough to get the point across.

Yesterday I had a phone call from a very nice scheduling person; reminding me that my appointment was coming up and covering a couple of last minute items. One of these was that she needed to know whether or not I might be pregnant; and if I happened to know the approximate date of my last menstrual period.

Again, I stated that the answer was “Never”, and she responded incredulously, and I gently explained that I was a trans woman and that as much as I would like to be the proud owner of my very own uterus, medical science hadn’t quite come that far yet.

I might come across as a touch bothered by the repeated inquiries in this area; but if so, it’s only because there seems to be a lack of communication inside the health system. (My medical record lists my trans status, but this data point isn’t taken into account when the questionnaire is presented; one can indicate that the question isn’t applicable, but this isn’t recorded.)

Truly, I would not be surprised if I get to my appointment and the very first thing they do is to inquire once again as to whether I might be pregnant...

There is however a silver lining in all this medical madness: every clerk, technician, nurse and doctor I’ve talked to in recent weeks apparently had no idea that I was anything other than a cis woman - and was surprised when it became necessary for me to inform them.

For someone that never thought she would pass, who still feels like she doesn’t pass: that’s kind of amazing.

Pain tolerance

Last week I happened to have an electrolysis appointment, followed immediately by a laser hair removal appointment.

Electrolysis involves permanently destroying the roots of undesired hairs with a fine-tipped, superheated needle. It smarts; but is generally bearable.

Matters change however in areas of the body with high numbers of nerve endings - like the upper and lower lips. Which is where the hairs are. On my face.

My electrologist is very aware of how much discomfort this procedure produces; and does her best to minimize the pain. All the same: it's common for her to end sessions with the phrase "You can breathe now". It's a literal instruction; in the last few minutes I will hold my breath in an attempt to ignore the pain.

(I cannot, alas, grit my teeth; as this would flex the very muscles underlying the areas my electrologist is working on.)

At my laser appointment, I discovered that my regular technician had left the clinic; and that my session would be conducted by a replacement.

Now, said technician was incredibly nice and did everything she could to put me at ease. (This was wise; it takes courage as a trans person to disrobe around strangers.) No complaints there.

I also know that in my prior sessions, I had the laser practically set to "Max". (The settings aren't quite that simple, mind you; I understand that the technician can control the size and intensity of the laser pulse, and the wavelength and how far it penetrates into the skin.)

High settings result, of course, in more discomfort. The treatment works by (once again) superheating the roots of unwanted hairs; albeit in patches approximately the size of a quarter. Where electrolysis involves singular, painful pokes in the skin, laser hair removal is more akin to sudden explosions of pain below the surface.

If there's no hair in the area, you feel nothing. If there's a lot of hair, it can really sting. (God help you if there's a long, ingrown hair snaking its way under the skin!)

I let the technician know I was okay with higher settings. (Another consideration: laser is, on a per-hair basis, extremely fast; but it is also not cheap. Turning down the power is an exercise in avoiding discomfort now, only to have to pay for additional treatments later; it's not a compromise I was willing to make.)

Well, I don't know what she set the machine on - I'm currently guessing some kind of wavelength with greater penetration of the skin -because she zapped my collarbone (where there is notably no visible hair) and I about screamed.

The only time I've felt laser light-related pain of this magnitude was (a) the aforementioned ingrown hair scenario, and (b) when my technician used a new machine that was later determined to be "Running hot".

(The latter actually left a couple of burn marks on the skin; they looked like dark splotches. Given their unfortunate location, one could posit - most inaccurately - that I had known carnal relations with a cephalopod.)

As painful as those experiences were, they were also isolated (perhaps one zap in every ten or twenty). This was just... constant. I was glad to be wearing a mask, so that my technician could not see me clenching my jaw; beads of sweat were running down my forehead. It was bad.

I came within a hair's breadth of tapping out and asking my technician to dial the power back; but again, could not stomach the cost. (A prevalent issue: American healthcare is needlessly costly; trans healthcare more so, do it's perceived elective nature.)

Things actually got better until we got to the lower inside portion of my left forearm, which again was agonizingly painful. I have no idea why this was the case - there's virtually no hair there; there were no visible marks left from the procedure.

(Sometimes you find small, yellow bruises from small blood vessels that were accidentally zapped; no evidence of that here either.)

It's still sore in that area; four days later. Whatever happened there was clearly non-trivial, and something I will bring up with my technician next time I see them. (This is also a prevalent theme: me trying to power through things I bloody well shouldn't.)

Anyhow, I mention all of this solely to state that the stupid pipe-cleaner swab they used in today's nasopharyngeal test was somehow worse than both being stabbed with electricity and shot full of lasers, and that I hope wherever the people are that designed the blasted thing, that their day is ruined!

Shuffle Meme - Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

feed-the-roses tagged me on this, and it looks fun! Now I’m gonna go ahead and do it completely wrong.

For starters, I don’t have a single, unified music collection. There are albums that I’ve fixed the metadata and art on; they live in Groove. There is a considerably larger collection of files that haven’t been fixed yet, and they get played in Winamp (which is currently enjoying a revival, by the by). And I’ve been using Spotify of late.

I also did some serious curating here. Although I used shuffle to get a random sampling of artists, I thought it made more sense to me to list my favorite tracks.

Without further ado:

Spotify

Mega Dis Bomb The Bass - Mega Dis EP I love Beat Dis. I fucking love Megablast! What’s not to love about an update that combines the two? (Also highly recommended: d4xx’s Step 2 Dub Remix.)

Suicide Jag Chemlab - Burn Out At The Hydrogen Bar I’ve had a copy of KMFDM’s Death Before Taxes Remix of Electric Molecular in my library since forever; but this year I decided to revisit Chemlab’s back catalog and I am so glad that I did!

Out Of Touch Hall And Oates - Big Bam Boom I realize that this has been doing the rounds on Tumblr; but for me, it has a different association: I played a lot of Saints Row 2 last year, and this became my go-to song while driving to a soon-to-be crime scene.

Everybody Wants To Rule The World Ted Yoder - Songs From The Orchid I instantly became a fan of Yoder after catching his collaboration with Curt Smith. Also: the hammered dulcimer is such a gorgeous-sounding instrument; it deserves more love!

Human The Chain Gang Of 1974 - Felt It’s such a bittersweet song; as if the subject is revisiting their regrets in their last few moments of life...

Why does the list stop at five? Well, because practically everything else I listen to on Spotify is from my ‘80s playlist and revisiting it here might get a bit redundant!

On to Part 2...

We all know that the Golden Throne is failing; and that a time will come when it will no longer be able to support the Emperor.

Of course, we interpreted this to mean that its arcane life-support mechanisms were gradually grinding to a halt; but I’m now much more enamored with the idea that the Emperor is slowly but surely falling out of his chair!

(Imagine, if you will, the Mechanicus periodically measuring the Emperor’s forward tilt, like some corpse-based variety of the Tower Of Pisa; and mounting increasingly desperate expeditions for STC schematics of the fabled ‘Three Point Safety Harness’…)

I wonder if/when Games Workshop will finally give an end to WH40K, will they let the Imperium or humanity as a whole just die to finally end their suffering & misery? That seems like a fitting end with all the grimdarkness.

The great chain

(Not to be confused with The Great Chain Of Being or The Great Chain as envisaged by Bioshock antagonist Andrew Ryan; or even Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain (although that is pretty great)!)

The start of my transition was... furtive. I imagine this is a fairly common phenomenon - trans individuals trying to build up a head of steam, as it were, before actually coming out.

In my case, I let my hair down; replaced my wardrobe with somewhat androgynous items from the women‘s section; began the process of facial laser hair removal; and painted my nails.

And it worked! These were all major milestones for me; but ones that went relatively unnoticed. (The one exception were my nails, which ended up breaking the ice with three particularly attentive colleagues.)

The first person to put all the pieces together was a barista at Starbucks. It was fascinating to experience: he had just taken our order, and was most of the way through the sentence “Have a good day-” before his eyes locked on to the crystal bracelet I was wearing and smoothly segued into “-ladies!” without missing a beat.

Later on I discovered that one of his fellow baristas was trans. At the time I really struggling with summoning the confidence to be out; and it was this particular barista that, by example, lead me to the solution: stop caring what other people think.

(Placing too much emphasis on the expectations of others is how I got into this mess in the first place!)

I make a point of thanking the people that help and inspire me (whether they are aware of it or not); and was both surprised and delighted to discover that I was now the fourth trans individual that this girl had aided.

Now that I am quite out to the world, I’m trying to pay this kindness forwards. There are trans girls I’ve run into in the wild, and I always compliment them; trans guys that have picked just the most awesome names and deserve to hear it!

There’s a young trans girl that I’ve taken under my wing, and I try to pass to her and her friends the knowledge that I’ve accumulated so far in my own journey.

I spoke with my friend Abigail about this (another individual that has done so much to help me personally); and she made the observation that one of the beautiful things about the trans community is its close-knit nature; how those that have already walked the path offer guidance to those behind them, and so on, and so on.

This is the great chain I speak of: stretching from past to future; each link a trans individual, clasped hand in hand with those before and those after them. I am so appreciative of those that paved the way ahead of me; and could not be more pleased to do my part and shepherd those that follow.

(Original from gifbuckybarnes; via feed-the-roses.)

Clothing

It’s fascinating to me how much male and female fashion differ; and how much variety there is in the latter.

It used to be that I would buy shirts; and I would buy pants; and generally speaking, pretty much any shirt would match any set of pants. Getting dressed was limited to randomly picking out one of each.

(To be fair, one can go fairly in-depth with male fashion; and I will be the first to put my hand up and state that I did not do so, as - I now recognize in retrospect - I found the act of shopping for male clothing dysphoric.)

Now I have all these amazing pieces of clothing; but there is so much variety - so much range! - that that any one item will only match a few others (or even none at all)!

I will invariably find myself thinking: “Now I need to buy x to go with this”... And I am loving it!