I had theories about what happened to Sally. She wrote something on the back of my cast, something I could barely see without twisting my body all around. “Let me leave you with a last laugh,” she said. Sally raised a brow and grabbed a Sharpie from the counter. I waved with my other hand, not in a cast. We both ate them until the doctor came back and I was casted up. ![]() I’ll get you a snack.” She dropped the file back down on the counter and came back with a package of chips. And hope to God gender doesn’t’ exist in the goddamn afterlife.” And everything else, well, die in the proper clothing. So always make sure to check with your dentist. ![]() “And if, you know, God Forbid we ever die,” she added, her tone just the same as when she asked if I had jerked myself off into this broken wrist, “our bones are gonna be the only things that identify us. So when everything was all repaired, metal holding her skeleton together, she figured it was better late than never to start liking the colour pink. Sally had shattered her hip pelvis when she was thirty-four, three years after removing her nuts without actually transitioning. And not just menopausal women break their hips. As it turned out, hormones are good for bone growth. She’d gotten an orchiectomy, thinking it was the smart way to rid her body of testosterone. Her harsh lesson in biology had been her follow up to her favourite colour story in group. If you ever get your uterus out, you know to take them forever and ever, yeah? Don’t be like me. That’s why you always gotta be on hormones. “Yeah, but if you’re not careful, your bones will be all you have. “One of the most common injuries in adults. Just a lot of little breaks,” I repeated the doctor’s words. She held up my x-ray towards the light, her nails still shimmering. Her nails glittered as she went through the file the doctor left in my stall. No one let her say that before she was thirty five, so she was catching up for lost time. When I’d met her in group, she said pink was her favourite colour. She was dressed in two inch heels and a pink top that matched the highlight of her eyes. The scar and the car,” she said and laughed. “Thanks for driving me, but I know you have a date.” “You don’t have to stay, you know,” I told Sally. ![]() After my x-rays, I was supposed to get a cast, but at this rate, I’d be there all night. I already knew the procedure for broken bones in the Ontario ER system. I had broken my wrist trying to impress the local jock at my gym, only to slam backwards and snap against a wall. She was thirty-seven, but still dressing like she was in tenth grade and wanted to get the footballer’s attention. Her hormones made her face heart-shaped and gave her breasts. I looked like a twelve year old boy before the testosterone shots made my chin sprout fuzz and my body bulk out. I know you’re all about sex positivity, but you positively snapped that wrist.” When we were alone, she made the jerk-off motion to me, too. Sally made a jerk off motion behind the doctor’s back when he left for the second time and refused to meet our eyes. Then, when my sex marker (F) didn’t match how I currently looked (M) or my name (Ryan), it was another two hours before the doctor came back with x-rays. ![]() We spent two hours waiting before a doctor saw me. The last time I heard from Sally was in the ER the night I broke my wrist.
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