Heart

A friend? An acquaintance? An unknown variable crossed my mind as she smiled at me welcoming me to the little town. We had grown up together. Her smile stings now as she waves in front of the middle school. Waving at anyone but me.

Her brother and I screaming in the car as cars got close, “Faster Faster mama.” He shrieked. I had laughed at the silly moments. Fabricated into a social web of trust?

Katya was also adopted from the same orphanage as me. Katya the A plus student, the swimmer. Katya had two mothers. The mothers had persuaded us to move to the little town. It would be a wonderful time. Being friends in the same town. At the age of 12 I had moved to the small countryside. Katya’s mothers had gotten along with my mom. Until that facade cracked.

I had been placed in the Ski club that year. I hated skiing. With friends maybe if I gave it a chance? I grabbed onto the rail and hoisted myself up onto the bus. Today would be fun. Katya would be kind to me maybe if she noticed me. We were a grade apart. Her black hair and her bright eyes smiled with her friends. Late at night sometimes at her home before I had moved she let me borrow the cd player before bed as I slept on the floor.

I would press play as I listened to high school musical. Excited for seeing cute individuals maybe in my same grade. I had gotten a yellow plastic card for lunch. It wasn’t like the island. Where I came from I would of had to repeat my number. Off island life, new life off island.

As we headed for the mountains the giggles and laughter faded. I didn’t want to ski alone. As we parked in the parking lot I headed to put on my ski’s. This was the same place my mother had gotten mad at an employee. My mother a wreck warped my idea of growing up as trans. In group therapy she cried because I wanted to change my name. She would deny it. I would console her, ” I..I just thats how I feel.” The therapist leaned in, “How do you feel about that? Would you like to share with Yumeji?” The plush armchair made the air stuffy.

Her tears streamed down her face as the kleenex box was passed. What I wished she would say was, “Why can’t you be normal.” I’d take the comment, take blame. Group sessions were with kids my age and other parents that wanted to foster a nurturing relationship with their children. Not so much focused around being trans but being accepting and open about the process. Was this why Katyas mothers distanced my mom?

The therapist spoke asking me what my ideal body would look like. I mentioned I wanted top surgery. She nodded and said she could help me understand my feelings surrounding it.

fast forward to a year ago. I was in the hospital bed as I watched the IV drip in my arm. I was in to get my birth control removed. The doctor had suggested that I come in to have it replaced. I had blinked. My mother glared, “So when do you think the surgery will be over.” My head snapped towards her, “Mom I don..” She smiled as she texted, “I’ll be in the car taking work calls.” She hesitated, “Actually I wanted to talk about your other surgery and how long you will be at the house. I’d say a week for your top surgery?” I stared blankly, “Mom I don’t know if it will take a week or. They said 3 weeks.” She sighed, “You know I really think you should go back to your place after the first week. you should be able to handle stairs.” I was dumbfounded. How in the hell. I was in the hospital bed with an IV drip about to go into surgery. I winced as I pulled out my phone to check the digital calander.

I scrolled to see the timeline. How we communicated was through business subtext. A written appointment was needed. a time a place the context, “I’ll mark it down on the calendar.” The nurse came over as she stood up, “Bye. have them call me when they get done. i’ll be working.” The nurse looked at me. I sadly smiled. Yes I was the next patient ready to be dissected mentally. As the hospital bed rolled me down the hall. It felt sterile and calm. Everything ready and in order. I was a patient in their eyes.

I was helped to the operating table. As the anesthesiologist smiled through the mask counting backwards. I was at peace for the limited amount of time. Propofol made me feel as if my face was burning I chuckled as I let go. I would wake up in the recovery room. The nurse smiled as she asked if I wanted more oxygen, “Yes please.” My mask was still on as I breathed silently for a few minutes. As I was put in a wheelchair I said, “Yeah I’ll be back soon.” A few months I had been back for my top surgery.

Scheduled for 6am we were in the hospital around 4am. My mother and godmother sat in the waiting room. I was nervous but also excited about surgery. (Why does that sound weird as hell when I say it outloud) yeah weird. As we entered the room it was bigger. A smaller room with a functioning bathroom. Animal stickers plastered on the walls. A giraffe sticker that peeled off the wall a little. I fumbled around looking for the light. The red cord to call for a nurse. no not it. not there either? I went in the dark because I foolishly couldn’t find the switch. My mother talked to my godmom about her upcoming trip.

I had walked out as the ties in the back weren’t tied from my gown. The intercom announced my number it had been my turn soon. The doctor came in and marked my chest. I didn’t care if anyone saw but she closed the curtain for privacy., “i..it tickles..” She hesitated as I had to stay still. The markings were a map to her. I looked to the side. I had always been curious about the process.

As I sat back in the hospital bed everyone congratulated me on the surgery. I said thank you as I was rolled back towards the operating room. As I woke up in a daze the compression binder was strapped around me. My drains in place. The nurse smiled, “Would you like some water or soup?” I nodded as I caught my breath. I slowly adjusted to my surroundings. The pull string was next to the bed, the small curtain gave me comfort away from my mothers home. Why couldn’t I stay in this hospital bed. It seemed so safe but it wasn’t mine.

I was brought in a wheelchair to my mothers car. I held my hand in front of me to block the seatbelt from rubbing against my chest. As we got home I was helped to the guest bedroom. I was advised to not lay down and sit up and sleep. Quickly my godmother had realized no amount of pillows would support my back. I had added a reading pillow to support my back to my cart, ” I want to go in the green chair now.” My godmother helped me walk. I whimpered as I made it to the chair. I had to sit up. The doctors order. The sheet to check the drains. I felt like a child learning to walk again, “You should do laps around the house.” Sometimes it was 3, sometimes 10. The guest room had all the essentials, wet wipes cough drops. I won’t leave a list below but most of the stuff was easy to obtain. My god mom had slept in the basement and would leave to go back home.

I texted her, “I need help going to the bathroom.” She came up and helped me. Slowly I would find my grip. Slowly. Nothing rushed. As her train departed I wondered what mothers home would be like. As we drove back the car ride was silent. I was settled as she pressed the garage button, “Yumeji I hope you don’t have to go to the bathroom because I need my sleep.” I nodded, “Can you help with laundry?” She dismissed it. The washer and dryer was in the basement with stairs to give context. I winced as the dull ache of emotions coursed through my body. The emotional pain not so much the physical pain. I sat on the bed as the sunlight passed.

I would usually eat toast for breakfast and a quiche I had made earlier. Tonight I would have the same meal. I hesitated as I called out. The time read 11:45. I texted mom frantically as her phone notification went off. She was only down the hall. My godmom wasn’t here anymore. I sighed as I slowly slipped my legs over the bed and stood. I couldn’t do this alone but I couldn’t wet the bed. I walked towards the bathroom as my chest was raw. I had known that the doc advised against moving without support. My fear became true the next day.

Dirty clothes awaited me. mother didn’t want to bother. But I needed clean clothes. It had been the third day. I hesitated as I got my dirty clothes. The stairs and my fate awaited me. (I have jagged scars on my chest due to stretching the stitches.) Not something I would recommend for anyone. I held the banister and stepped down to the basement alone. I carried my clothes and washed them over exerting my self. mom didn’t have time to look after me. What was I kidding. In therapy I had known this could be a risk I would be taking by staying with my mom. My binder was tight as I changed my bandages with tons vasaline.

I had mentally checked out as my mother brought friends over, ” Yumeji come join us and have soup Karrisa and David are here.” I smiled as the stage was set. A young man going through a recent surgery with a loving mother who cared deeply for the adolescent. I sat as the conversation played. By the end I was tired. Usually for dinner I would cook and handle most of the guests. That’s the way it had always been.

My chest healed as the scars became mine.

The snow came down as I left the ski lift. I was alone my friends ahead of me since I was slow. There was only one way down. I had to ski. As the bittersweet air hit my nose I winced at the hill. The spotlights came on as the wind whipped. Which trail had I been on. I didn’t want to miss the bus. I couldn’t be late. I skied down for the first 4 minutes. Until I had realized I was on the steeper part. There was no avoiding it. Tears fell as I breathed, Get it together Yumeji. I could see the trees but not the inn. The wind howled. The chill sent me into a frenzy. My layers disintegrating as the cold whipped me. I swore internally. If I was going to go down it would have to be at my own pace. Nights like these could be fatal. I was standing on the slope and took off my skis, “Yeah I know it looks stupid but I don’t care. I’m not about to die out here.” The snow barked back. I unclipped my boots and walked.

As I arrived below I was tugged to the side, “What group are you in?” I was stunned, “Middle school 5th grade class XX.” She stared at me and hollered to the others, “No its not her.” What was going on? I froze mentally to hear sirens. The EMTS were on the way. No..had someone….I held my jacket closer to my chest. W..who. Who had such a tragic fate. I dissociated as the EMTS gathered for a meeting, “Helicopter….XX Hospital.” I stood out of the way as others shuffled past. Who was picking me up today? Who was still skiing? I reached a bench as I calmly sat down.

My mother had appeared, “YUMEJI THANK GOD.” I stood up, “What’s happening?” The sentence was a blur as the instructor came over, “She will be moved to the the hospital. I would like you to notify the family.” I lost my grip with reality as the words hit me, “Katya was skiing on the slope next to yours and hit a pole. A severe concussion we have a helicopter coming in. Another skiier had reported it.”

The words sunk into my chest as I felt empty, “I was on the other side of the slope. That could have been…” I didn’t want to say it as my eyes welded up with tears. A friend. I had wanted to visit Katya in the hospital. We had driven near the hospital, “What if she forgets who I am.” I held my thoughts to myself as my mothers phone buzzed, “We can’t go in they don’t want visitors. I blinked as I stared out the window.

I had lost so many from childhood. Katya my friend would you remember me like I did. I whispered a wish into oblivion, “I hope she remembers me.”

My mother told me that she wasn’t friends anymore. She told me that. She told me that…

I passed Katya in class and smiled at her. She looked away dismissing me. The spot she waved from was replaced a group that laughed. It ached but not as much as the moment my childhood friend Cass came into the picture. Cass my friend who hung out with me the one who bought littlest pet shops with me. I checked my phone to see a photo of them smiling over a bowl of ramen, “Besties for LYFE.”

I hesitated. Cass as an adult treated me the same way in my childhood. I nodded, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better friend.” Cass and Katya are together that’s all there to it. They can be friends too. I silenced my phone I echoed the conversation.

“Sorry I’m on my way home I can’t get anything.” Cass had said that when I was having kidney stones. A friend? I dropped my phone into oblivion. A friend wouldn’t pull that shit. Katya was waving at anyone besides me.

Thank you for reading – Don’t worry i’m doing well. This was alot to unpack. Love yall ❤️