It's a Boy er Girl
"You're awake, how're you doing?"
"I can guess, the Docs want to do some tests, you lost a lot of blood kiddo."
"That's what the Doctors want to find out."
"It's because of the er girl bits isn't it."
"It's quite likely kiddo but they want to check before doing anything."
"Why couldn't I be like normal?" I started to blub.
"It'll be okay kiddo."
"But what about England, BC, I won't be able to go now."
"We don't know that, I'll ring Caro later, let them know what's going on."
"I'm scared Dad."
"I know kiddo, I know." Dad pulled me into a hug which at least calmed me down some.
"Jen? Can you talk?"
"Dave? What's happening, how is he? "
"Out of immediate danger."
"Thank heavens, so what was it? George wasn't very specific."
"Well neither was I last night, it seems his um girl bits have 'matured '."
"It was a period ?"
"I should have spotted the symptoms."
"You wouldn't be looking for them Dave, so the blood?"
"It had to go somewhere, it burst into his bowel, the Doctor did say a lot more but they've repaired the damage."
"Why now? Most girls have started in their early teens."
"Late developer? The medics think it was caused by the effort in the sprint, a build up of pressure."
"But he doesn't have..."
"They've inserted a temporary drain."
"My poor baby."
"He should be clear to travel tomorrow so we'll get him home before deciding anything eh."
"I wish I could be there."
"Drew knows the score luv."
"I know but,"
"But you'll be here when he needs you."
"I'll be back in Dernau Monday whatever."
"I'm sure we can use the phone if we need to make any urgent decisions."
"What's going to happen , Dave?"
"I really don't know luv, I really don't know."
"Well, young lady, it seems you have some plumbing that needs sorting out."
Talk about embarrassing. All morning the medics have been using female nomenclature (see I'm not thick!) in respect of me and its darn well getting on my—erm—tits . And now, well now.
"I've spoken with your doctor in Koln who has brought me fully up to speed. It seems that the unlikely has turned into reality, for some reason your apparently benign fallopian system has burst into life, your hormone levels are within the normal parameters for a girl of your age, yesterday's bleeding will be a regular feature from k now on."
Just what I need - not!
"Why now Doctor?" Dad asked the $64000 question.
"Who knows? A change in diet or routine, I think we would have been here sooner but for your sport. It's possible that you've had smaller discharges which have been absorbed internally, this time it was too much."
"So what happens now?"
"The drain we have fitted you with is only temporary, you will need surgery, and soon if we are to prevent any repeat of yesterday - we might not be so lucky a second time."
Sugar with extra sweetener.
"You have several options at this stage, I'm sure your specialist has mentioned them already."
Indeed he has, cut off my manhood or cut out the girl bits, one way I'm sterile, the other I could, potentially become a parent - a female parent. Is there a third option? This whole conundrum comes back to haunt me on a regular basis but now, now I need to make a decision.
"What would be your advice?" Dad asked.
"Personally I'd opt for the vaginoplasty; you have a very beautiful daughter, sort the plumbing to match. But that's just my opinion; you need to do what's right for you eh."
Right for me. What is right for me?
“How are you doing?”
“Okay I guess.”
Well I'm not exactly comfortable, my bum's sore, I've got the drain digging into me every time I move and I've got like this huge sanitary pad strapped between my legs. Oh yeah and I'm wearing a ridiculously frumpy dress that Dad found in one of those terrible Kik Textil places – I might not like wearing dresses an all that but really, I look like a right dork in this.
“You want to stop?”
Read the above!
“Nah I'm okay for now.”
“It's still about two hours to home.” He pointed out.
Monday was dire, I got prodded, poked and vampired most of the day and when Tali and her rents dropped by I barely got a chance to talk. So Dad went to use the Schmidt's spare bed whilst I got to share a side ward with a selection of old biddies with more complaints and moans than even Jules. A pleasant night it was not.
Which brings us to today. The Doc reckoned I was okay to travel – with some provisos, I get to see the specialist Thursday and I'm stuck with the pipe and nappy for the foreseeable. Joy. But the good news is that I get to go home, what happens next I still don't know.
“Bit of a conundrum eh?”
“Just a bit Dave.” Caroline agreed.
Ever since getting the call from Dave out in Germany she k new that sooner or later she'd be having this conversation with the Director. The whole situation was unprecedented, no doubt the UCI would get involved, certainly the long term performance plan w ould have to be reappraised.
“You mentioned that this all happened after some event in, where was it, Hannover?”
“Hamburg, the Holstein Junior Grand Prix.”
Dave Brailsford raised a brow for her to go on.
“Drew took a close sprint for the win, his Dad says he has an unassailable lead in the German league, the team has bundled the girls and team competitions too. You know they have the Waugh lad riding for them now?”
“The tall Geordie?”
“That's the one.”
“So to recap, the Bond kid has won or placed in every start this season riding against the strongest competition in Europe.”
“Uh huh.” Caro agreed.
“And this … condition means he'll be batting for the other team now?”
“Crudely put, but yeah, essentially he's already there.”
‘Indeed' Caro agreed, ‘indeed!'
The Director took a sip of his coffee, “ U rgh, cold! Okay, here's what we do, watching brief , Caroline. Assuming he's fit we proceed as planned, two weeks here at central then the Euro tour, keep a close eye on things and the UCI out of it for now.”
“What about Madrid?”
“Indeed, any ideas?”
“When do we have to name the squad?”
The Boss flicked through his diary, “ L et's see, junior, junior, junior, here we go, junior road events, September second.”
“So we have a week after the Danish tour.”
“Where are you going?”
“We've got the Cavendish lad in the under 23's.”
“He's showing some promise, if we have to lose Drew we could drop Cavendish into the slot.”
“Possibly, what about Madrid?”
“If we have to , we get him, well her I guess, re registered for the girls.”
“Hmm, let me think on it, we'll have to let John Ward in on developments vi s à vi s Bond junior, hmm, meeting Friday morning?”
“Should be okay, Dave said he'd call Thursday evening so we should have some more information to work with.”
I made a discrete signal with a digit towards my sister.
“Give me a hand Jules, Drew inside.”
“I'm not an invalid.”
“You do look like a right Mary though,” my helpful sister pointed out.
Good enough reason to get indoors I guess.
“Drew? You up for visitors?” Dad called up to my eyrie where I have taken refuge since we got home this afternoon.
“I guess, who is it?”
“I er seem to have a bit of a delegation downstairs.”
“For the most part I'd say so.”
“Erm, let me get dressed, like five minutes.”
“You need any help?”
“Da-ad! I can dress myself!”
How did the guys know I was back? Jules, it ha d to have been Jules. It's not like I was trying to avoid them or anything but I really could have done without them this evening. Now then, what to wear?
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 23.10.2011