Dr. Friedman’s office was across the street from Miller’s. Robbie’s appointment with Friedman was the same day half an hour after Miller’s. Even though they were early, Friedman rushed right out of his office to see them. Priscilla insisted on sitting in. For this, Robbie was quite grateful. Friedman would keep his distance.
“How are you feeling?” was the obvious first question Friedman asked. They were in his office and in their normal chairs.
Mutilated, terribly violated, and of course castrated. I will never make love with a woman as a man,were the real thoughts that went through Robbie’s head.
“Okay, I guess,” Robbie answered.
“Dr. Miller assures me the operation went well. No problems.”
Except I’ll never be a father, Robbie thought.
“Yes, he told me that too,” Robbie said.
“Are you feeling tired?” Freidman asked.
“Yes, very weak.”
“That’s normal with any surgery as serious as this. You’ll need to get as much rest as you can for at least the next two weeks. You should be back to normal activities in five to six weeks.
“Be careful. Don’t overdo it. Nothing strenuous. No driving, heavy lifting exercise, sex or soaking in hot tubs.”
“Yes, I know, Dr. Miller went over all of this and gave me a list of things not to do,” Robbie replied.
Friedman pulled his chair closer, almost to where his knees were touching Robbie’s.
“How are you feeling mentally and emotionally?” Freidman asked.,
Robbie became silent while thinking it over. After more than a minute, Priscilla spoke.
“Roberta, how are…”
“I don’t know, Mother, I’m so drained, so tired, I’m not feeling much of anything.”
“That’s natural, normal. I tell you what, let’s wrap it up today and make an appointment for two weeks from now. Of course, if you feel the need to see me, for anything whatsoever, just call. I’ll make time.
“Go home, rest. Take care of yourself. Don’t do too much,” Friedman reminded her.
When Priscilla heard Friedman tell them they were finished, she bolted upright. It was almost noon and this was a lunch day with the girls. Plus, Priscilla needed a drink.
EIGHTEEN
Dear Diary:September 4th
Day 2 of the new school year. I’m a senior this year and I will turn 18 next month. As I have told you many times, I am still very ambivalent about my gender surgery. Most of the kids know and seem to be quite accepting. Everyone but me.
Wheaton insists on having phy. ed. for students. Of course, I have mentioned this to you many times. Today in gym class, we played volleyball. I am the tallest girl in my class, five feet, nine inches. I was very surprised at how well I did. In fact, our teacher is also the volleyball coach. She knows I am trans but still asked me to try out for the varsity girls’ volleyball team. There are three girls in my gym class who are on the team. They all encouraged me to play. I guess there is one more place for a player. I have decided to do it. Other schools in Minnesota have trans girls on their teams. The governor had a law made to make them do it.
The Wheaton Academy is a class AA school for high school sports. The classifications are based on school size. AA is, ofcourse, for smaller schools. The majority of these schools are located outside the Twin Cities Metro area.
For their third game, The Wheaton girls volleyball team was bussed an hour west of Minneapolis. Robbie not only made the team but was the third best player. Because of her size, leg strength and jumping ability, she was instrumental in helping Wheaton win their first two games, an unusual occurrence. Wheaton was known for its academics. Starting off any season with two wins had created a buzz of enthusiasm through the building. Robbie was having a conscience problem dealing with her new found celebrity.
They were playing a best-of-five-set contest with the Afton Lake High School. Having won the first set by the lopsided score of 25 to 7, there was a timeout. Robbie had been the main difference. She not only won nine points by spiking the ball, but she also defended at least ten more. The uncoordinated middle school boy was becoming a star. Of course, Robbie’s growth was a significant factor.
It happened during the second set. Afton Lake was serving. Unfortunately, their smallest player was at the net directly opposite Robbie. A pretty but tiny little girl. She was a sophomore who excelled at gymnastics, not volleyball. Still, she was very athletic.
The serve went to one of the girls in the back line. She tapped it up front to the girl next to Robbie. That girl then tapped the ball to Robbie for a perfect setup for a spike. Robbie jumped, slammed the ball as hard as he could and hit the Afton Lake girl square on top of her head. The poor kid dropped like she had been shot. When she landed on her back, her neck snapped back, her head hit so hard it sounded like a crack and she was out cold.
The girl’s mother was in attendance. She came down off the bleachers in two steps and beat everyone to her daughter. A man in the stands called for an ambulance then went to the girl. The two coaches were also there. She was breathing and alive but not coming out of her unconscious state.