A Lovely Nap Interrupted

Groundhog Day has always outranked lame holidays like New Year's for me. What a wonderfully weird tradition. Actually, that's true of both, but I was referring to Groundhog Day.

It holds a special place for me, beyond analyzing the addled behavior of a groggy varmint. Exactly three years ago, I attended my very first support meeting. Talk about a life changer! I'm just glad no one but me was analyzing my addled behavior. I went en homme, though I had my waist cinched tightly and pantyhosed ankles on display. I thought it was important to present some bona fides, just in case anyone doubted my sincerity. I wound up looking like a very confused and odd fellow.

There were between sixteen and twenty folks present that night. Only two of those are still with the group, Cassie and Marjorie. I would call them the Old Guard, but they might take umbrage. Some real success stories were present as well. One is now practicing law under her own shingle in another state. Another is an interpreter for a large company. Also in attendance, a woman 16 years post-op.

Several others were first timers like me. One who came in boy mode like myself would succumb to liver cancer later that year.

I was nervous all evening, but I did sense that this was a situation that could work for me. My second meeting confirmed that, and I have never regretted that rare bravery I displayed, trying something wholly new and scary, fending off every flight instinct in me. That lesson has served me well.