Malepractice

Malepractice –

“Tristian Herbert Collier, you wet the bed again, didn’t you?” I could sense my mum, Mary Collier, standing over me and was peering down at my head buried in my pillow. I moved my eyes behind their lids as though I was dreaming. She shook my exposed shoulder and called to me again softly. “Wake up young man. Did you hear me? You wet the bed again.” As a slightly built nine year old boy who no doubt had a bladder the size of an apricot, I stirred and winced at finding my bed soaking wet. I guess she could smell it. I could feel it. I was so ashamed.

“Sorry mom. I didn’t mean too.”

I hated wetting the bed. I really didn’t mean to do it. I tried all the tried and true methods my mom told to do. I would pee before bedtime. I wouldn’t drink anything two hours before going to bed. Most of the time it worked. Still, there were times I fought to wake up knowing I needed to pee badly but I would pee anyway. This morning was one of those awful times.

The ugly thing about wetting the bed I hated the most was my grandmother’s reaction. She would yell at my mom about what a baby I was. Mom covered for me as best she could, but Grandma would come over and read her the riot act if she found out I peed in my bed. And this time, of all times, she had come over for morning coffee and heard my mom talk to me about it all the way in the kitchen.

It was a horrible way to get up on Saturday. Grandma was on a holy terrier because of me. She really barked at my mum. Yap, yap, yap! It turns out she had already arranged a doctor’s appointment for me on Tuesday and I was going to learn once and for all that I had no excuse for wetting the bed. When she told me about it, her snippy speech went like this, “Look here young man, you are going to grow up. And you are going to stop acting like a baby!” Once again, she gave me her speech after thumping me in the shoulder like she always did. I sometimes wondered if spanking would be kinder.

My older brother, Dean, would just laugh while I suffered. The creep! My older sister Candace would turn her head and wince. I was too young to understand that I was taking the pressure off of them and they were grateful it wasn’t them at the end of Grandma’s rant. Mom had divorced dad years ago. I was the youngest and the baby of the family. Candace was five years older. Dean was six and a half years older.

I felt like a jerk. I was being taken into Grandma’s doctor who was some specialist dealing with pee. He poked and prodded me. He asked me a bunch of questions. How often did I pee a day. What did I feel when I needed to pee. He seemed surprised to hear that I fought to wake up to pee. “Hmm, most boys who wet the bed at your age don’t feel it. Here, I want you to go to the bathroom over there and pee in this cup. Okay, Sport?”

A half hour later, the doctor called us into his office to chat with me and my mum. “The urine test tells us something is wrong with his kidney or his bladder. There is a protein that shouldn’t be there. I suspected something when he told me he did feel like he needed to pee when he wet the bed. Most bed wetters don’t and we have to train them with special devices. I want to send Tristan to a radiologist to put dye into his bladder and take some pictures.”

A few days later, I found myself in a cold dark room on this rolling table where they stuck a tube in my weiner and filled me up with some sort of dye an x-ray machine could see. They rolled an x-ray machine over me and took pictures of my full bladder. I was totally embarrassed since the staff was mostly women. They got to see me partially naked. I know my mother has seen me naked, but I really don’t like to be seen with my clothes off at all. They had me pee too as they took more pictures.

Finally, we went back to the specialist doctor who said that I had pockets in my bladder that caused me to wet the bed. He wanted to look at them with a special scope that he would stick in my weiner. But, he said, it would be so painful that I had to be knocked out. So, ugh, it meant that I would have to go to the hospital.

The next week, Grandma took me to the hospital where I was going to stay overnight. She was so apologetic. “I’m sorry Tristan. I didn’t know you had a real reason for bed wetting. I thought because you were the youngest, that your mother was letting you be a baby.”

“It’s okay Grandma. At least now I know there was a medical reason for my bed wetting.” The doctor had explained to me that the pockets in my bladder acted like a pressure relief valve with back flow into my bladder. I didn’t get the sense of having a full bladder until the last moment.

For the first time Grandma treated me nicely. I loved it. I could even snuggle with her like I used to do. I loved snuggling with my mum too. My sister doesn’t do it too much anymore with me and my brother hates it. So, I mostly snuggle with my cat and my stuffed Vermont Teddy Bear. We checked me into hospital and they were supposed to do the test in the morning. Grandma stayed with me until they chased her out. I couldn’t eat or drink after I went to bed. To insure I didn’t eat anything, they gave me a sleeping pill. They woke me up early and I was all sleepy. I guess it was from the pill.

What kind of doctor works at six o’clock in the morning anyway? They wheeled me down this elevator to a strange room and this guy put a needle in my arm and hung a bag next to me. He put my legs up on these strange blocks extending from the table I was put on. I felt very exposed. They put a very light blanket over me with just my little boy thing hanging out. I was feeling starved because they wouldn’t let me eat or drink prior to the test. It was totally lame that the nurse said not to worry because the bag was feeding me. I wish it would have told my stomach.

I don’t remember much after that, but when I awoke, that is when my whole life was changed. That was when I started to change into someone I never thought I would be.

“Tristan. Wake up dear?” My mum called to me, but I wanted to keep sleeping. She knew me and wouldn’t let me.

I brushed her off. “Aw Mom, just let me sleep.”

“Do we have to tell him? Can you give him just a minute or two more of being a nine year old boy with his whole life ahead of him.” Grandma lamented.

Confused by the tone of their voices, I opened my eyes to see my mother crying and my grandmother too. “Why are you so sad, Mom? Am I going to die?” I felt a wave a panic ride through me. What if they found something wrong with me.

“No, darling. You aren’t going to die.”

A man with short grey hair on his balding head and a worried look lumbered into the room I was in and looked at my mum. I could tell by his suit that he wasn’t a doctor. Or, at least, he wasn’t what I thought doctors looked like. When she looked at him, he haltingly said, “Mrs. Collier, I am so sorry. We will do what we can to make this turn out all right.”

Grandma glared at him and said, “You are darn right you will. You took that boy’s future. Thanks to your negligence, he will never have kids of his own flesh and blood.”

“Mom, what happened?” It was then that I noticed a little pain below where I pee. “Mommy, I hurt. Why do I hurt in my privates?

“Because a drunken doctor took something ...”

“Now Mrs. Collier, we don’t know if he was drunk ...” interjected the man in a suit who had just walked in a few moments before.

“Whatever, then he took his family jewels and tossed them away because he was sober. Happy now!? Get out of my sight.”

The man stepped back. He was about to say something, but left shaking his head.

“Mom, I don’t understand?”

Grandma came up and said, “Honey, there was some sort of mixup in the operating rooms and … well … another doctor thought you were his patient that had testicular cancer … and … well … um ...”

“What Grandma is saying dear is that another doctor removed a part of your body you need to grow into a man and become a father because he got the wrong information.”

“Is that what hurts, Mommy?” I started to cry. I didn’t care about turning into a man or a father at that moment, but seeing my mum and my grandmother hurt was scaring me. “Mom, I am scared. Are you sure I am not going to die? What is going to happen to me?”

At that moment, Dr. Clawson came in. He is a special doctor that helped my family deal with my father leaving. “Hi Tristan. I rushed over here as fast as I could. I am here to help you. First, you are going to be fine. There are really good doctors who can help you. And I am sure that we can arrange for you to be taken care of for the rest of your long life.”

And, that is how I found out that I was no longer going to be a man. Not that it mattered to me. I was enjoying being a kid. Despite what my Grandma thought, I didn’t have all the toys in the world. In fact, what I mostly had were hand me downs from my brother. It often meant that the clothes were not nice looking either. Well, they weren’t new looking. And, I quickly put holes in jeans because my brother had worn out spots in the jeans just enough to make it easy and not enough to force my mother to throw the jeans away. It was the same thing with my shirts too.

The first thing I noticed when I got home was that my underwear felt like sandpaper. I complained to my Grandma who had an idea. She found one of Candace’s old pairs of panties. “Here, try this on.”

“You sure Grandma? It is for a girl.” I winced because of the idea. If the guys at school found out, I would be horribly teased. But, at the same time, I was desperate. So, I put them on.

“How does it feel Honey?”

“Oh, okay I guess.” Okay? They felt great! Without thinking, I pushed my little guy down and the underwear looked flat. It was strangely weird and very easy to do.

“Does your underwear feel like sandpaper?” Grandma asked.

“Well, no. Not really. It feels nice actually.” I pulled on my jeans. The sensation of the panties sliding against the loose fitting jeans was different too. I tightened my belt. Since the ‘accident,’ the way I slipped around in these pants made me wonder if I had lost a little weight.

I went in to see Dr. Clawson again with my mum. She sat in a corner away from us so he could talk about personal things with me, but she could watch us. He was a very nice man. He wasn’t much taller than my mother. His blue eyes sparkled and his nose twitched when he made a funny. He loved jokes. He would start each session we had with a joke and make me laugh.

“Where do pencils go on vacation?” he said with a smirk.

“I dunno.” I giggled.

“Pencil-vania.” He smiled and dramatically opened his arms as if what he said was completely normal. I roared with laughter.

“That was a good one. I like your jokes.”

“Thank you. I love making you laugh How are you doing, Tristan?”

“I guess I am okay. Everybody is treating me like I am going to break or something now.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not really. It is just, well …”

“What?”

“Everyone used to ignore me. Dean was always inviting his friends over. He would kick me out of his room. And Candace’s friends were even worse. They didn’t want any kid brother bothering them at all.”

“Don’t you have any friends?”

“No, not really. There is Alan, who lives a few blocks away. He will sometimes play with me when his friend Josh isn’t around. I am more of a back up plan for him.” I felt sad.

“Well, you said things have changed? How?”

“My sister’s friends. They were pushing me out of the room before. Now, when I come into the room, they say things like, ‘You poor boy’ or ‘Too bad, you were going to be a handsome man.’”

“Does that bother you?”

“No, actually. I get to stay and hear their girl talk. I have started to let my hair grow now. Mommy and Grandma are letting me have it longer now. I guess I don’t have to look all boy now to them.”

“How do you want to look?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what do you want to look like?”

“Me! Duh!”

“And letting your hair grow means you look more like you?”

I started to think about what he had to say. I don’t know why letting my hair grow looked more like me, but it did. “I don’t know why, it just does.” I looked down and watched my feet kick. “It is like my underwear now. It feels more like me now than it did before, ya know.”

“Underwear?” he asked me in a gentle way.

“Yeah. The kind my sister wears. It feels much better than my old underwear.”

We had a good talk after which he talked to my mother privately. I don’t know what they talked about, but she kept looking at me and nodding.

The only good thing about this whole thing was that it happened just before summer break. I was allowed to do my homework at home. I was given a tutor too. I finished third grade at home. The first day of summer vacation, I asked if I could go swimming. I was told no. Not until a doctor said okay.

A day or so later, at the doctor’s office for my checkup to see if I was healing right, Mum asked, “Dr. Slaughter, is Tristy well enough to go swimming?”

“Sure. I think he will be just fine. Some exercise will do him some good.”

And then, mum had to ask him the ‘ugh’ question. “When can he start hormones?”

“How about after the end of summer. We have to carefully monitor him in the beginning and summer is just a bad time for that.”

“Can you give him some doses while he waits though?”

“I wouldn’t feel good about that. He will need weekly blood tests in order to make sure his body is adjusting well to them and is getting them in the right amounts. Plus, they could have unpleasant side effects that need to be closely monitored too. Having him on a stable schedule, like school, will be tremendous advantage to monitoring his hormone levels.”

And then it happened. My world changed. I discovered the me I didn’t know yet. I poked my head in Candace’s door and asked, “Hey sis, do you have anymore old underwear for me?”

“He wears your underwear now?” said Shannon. I didn’t see her friend in her room.

I turned beat red. I felt so awkward at her hearing my question. “Yeah, it feels better than my old underwear.” I said weakly. I fully expected her to make fun of me. I think she could see I was scared.

“Look Tristy, would you want to try on some of her other clothes?” She looked over at my sister. My sister scrunched her nose shaking her head no. But Shannon kept nodding yes. It was a silent argument the two of them were having.

I figure that Shannon won the argument. She got up and grabbed me by the hand. “Come on you.” She looked at my sister and said, “Go on, find some of your old clothes. You still have them, right?” Shannon pulled me over to Candace’s closet. “Go on. Look for them.” Candace reluctantly opened up her closet. She reached up and found a box.

“Here are some clothes I set aside. I have some of my favorite outfits from years ago I wanted to keep for a daughter.” She hesitated for a moment holding on to the box. She looked at me and then said, “But, it might be fun for Tristy to try them on. But, only if he is careful and doesn’t leave the house.”

“Good. It has been years since I have played dress up.” Shannon shuffled through the box and smiled. She spotted something.

“Oh no, not that dorky outfit. Why did I ever save it! You can’t want him to wear that!” My sister said exactly the right thing to make me want to wear it now.

It was a pair of shorts that looked like jeans that were cut off. The shirt was pink and had a big red heart on it. I quickly grabbed it before Candace could stop me. Shannon gave my sister a knowing smirk as if she had hit the jackpot. I dropped my pants and flung off my torn t-shirt with Star Wars on it leaving me in some pink panties. Shannon looked at them and I could tell wasn’t shocked. But she did look twice. I don’t know why. I think it was because I had taken to stuffing my little part down as far as I could making me look very smooth. Well, mostly smooth.

I put on the shorts and buttoned them up. They felt snug, but not tight. The shirt was quickly on me too. I just smiled at my sister as if to say I’ll show you.

“Candace, do you have some bobby socks and a pair of sneakers for Tristy. I think she would look cute with it too.” I didn’t notice that I was called a ‘she’ by Shannon. I was enjoying the outfit and being dressed by Shannon. It was so much fun. A moment or two later, I had bobby socks and a pair of black and white sneakers.

I looked at myself in her closet mirror. “Wow, this is cute. I can see why you wanted to keep it, Candace. It isn’t dorky at all.” Shannon stood behind me and nodded. Candace looked strange. She wanted to say something. She looked angry. Mostly she just stared at me. So much so that I had chills running down my spine.

I realized that it was getting awkward. “I think I better change back. I have stuff to do. But, thank you Shannon. I enjoyed trying to look like my sister. It was fun.” Candace looked at me relieved. She quickly picked up my clothes and handed them to me.

“Why don’t you run off to your room, Tristy. I want to go shopping with Shannon at the mall.

“Why doesn’t she come along?” Shannon asked with a twinkle in her eye.

This time I noticed Shannon used ‘she.’ I felt funny. For some reason, I liked hearing ‘she.’ “Oh, I have chores to do now.” I turned and started to walk out of the room. “Oh, by the way, it is ‘he’ not ‘she.’ Thanks again.” I scooted out of there as fast as I could. I shut the door to my room. Waves of emotion came over me. I felt somehow like I was fighting with myself. We had the same mirrored closet doors in all the kids bedrooms. I stood there and looked at myself. Was I really liking what I saw. I looked like a boy in a girl’s outfit. Well, almost. If my hair was longer, I would look like a girl. And a cute one at that.

I slowly twirled around looking at myself. I thought, ‘But, I am a boy. I am not supposed to like feeling like a girl. Or even dressing as one.’ There was a knock at my door and then my mum came in with some folded laundry. Mom looked at me for a moment.

For a second, anger flashed in her face. Then, she caught herself and just frowned. “Why are you in your sister’s old clothes?” Mom slowly came up to me. I looked up at her and realized she was smiling now and not angry.

“Um, Shannon said that I should try on Candace’s old clothes. I didn’t want to create a fuss. It was nice to be included in their gabbing, so I just put it on to let them see what I looked like in her old clothes.”

“Okay. So, why are you still wearing them?”

“I just left her room. I could tell that Candace wasn’t happy with my being in her room. I had just come in here to change and get out of their way.”

“Well, they just left to go to the mall.” I took the basket from my mother and began to put clothes away in the dresser instead of getting changed. “Aren’t you going to change?”

“After I put my clothes away.” I carefully started to put away my clothes. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want to rush it. “Nice job of putting them away.” mum said thoughtfully. “Would you like to keep those clothes on for the rest of the day? I am going to have to wash them anyway now.”

Not wanting to sound too excited, I said as casually as I could, “That sounds like a good idea, Mum.” I turned away so she wouldn’t see me smile. Then I noticed her looking in the closet mirror back at me. She saw my smile. She pursed her lips for a moment and then winked at me.

“Okay, Honey. Just don’t get them dirty, okay?” With that, she left the room. I finished putting my clothes away. Not wanting to go out into the rest of the house, I began to clean the room. I noticed how my sister’s shirt felt on me. And the way the shorts were hugging me too was nice. As I cleaned, I looked at myself in the mirror. Instead of the big full movements I did as a boy, I started to use some of the movements I had seen my sister use. At one point, I found myself walking towards the mirror with one foot in front of the other instead of my wide goofy walk.

I giggled. Then I exaggerated my walk acting all girly. I hated it. Not because it was girly. But, inside, I felt I was dishonoring girls. Slowly, I went back to just trying to look like a girl walking as I cleaned my room. It didn’t take me long to clean my room. I thought about wanting to play a video game. So, I stuck my head out my door to make sure the coast was clear and headed to the living room. I heard mum on the phone. She was talking to a lawyer, I think. It sounded like something she cooked. Every time I heard ‘tort,’ I would chuckle and think ‘tart.’

Bored, I went in and booted up the Playstation. For some reason, I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to play. Most of the time, I would just play against Dean. But, he wasn’t home. He had a summer job as a life guard. He was earning money for his college fund. I hardly saw him anymore.

Ding dong – The doorbell rang. I rushed to see if it was Grandma. It was one of Dean’s friends. A mean one too named Cameron. He looked at me strangely. “Is your brother home?”

I cautiously answered. “No, sorry, he is at work.”

“So, are you becoming a little girl now?” Cameron sneered at me shaking his head.

I felt tears welling up in me. “What is it to you? You never liked me anyway.”

My mother came around the corner, “Tristan, behave! Cameron, Candace and her friend were having fun with Tristan this morning. We were clearing out some old clothes and they bet Tristan could fit into her old clothes. It was just for fun.”

“Oh, all right. It is just that Dean made a weird comment about Tristan being more girl now than boy. I guess I thought he was becoming one of those freaks who wants to go into the girl’s bathroom.”

“They are not freaks!” I protested not knowing why.

“Okay if you say so, Sweetie. Tell Dean I stopped by. Thanks Mrs. Collier.”

With that, he departed. My mother came over and hugged me. I was angry. I didn’t like to be told what I was supposed to be. I started to cry. “I am not a girl. I am not a boy either. I don’t know what I am. I think I am going to get changed now.” I squezzed my mother and then started walking down the hallway. I saw my sister’s door open and the box sitting on her bed. I went in to take off my clothes and put them away in her box. After disrobing down to my panties, I folded things up. I lifted the lid of the huge cardboard box.

I started looking at her outfits. I remembered a few of them from when I was younger. I saw this one I really liked. It was a plaid skirt and a white blouse with ruffles on the sleeves. It had a black vest to go with it. I picked it up and held it to my waist. I looked in the mirror. It was a pretty skirt and the pleats were very crisp and clean. It made me look older somehow. I was sad that I couldn’t find the beret that went with it.

On a lark, I put the skirt down on her bed. I pulled out the blouse and the vest. I couldn’t exactly hold the blouse to me, so I put it on. The buttons were on the wrong side. I had to button it twice to get them to line up right. The blouse was almost like a mini-skirt on me. I had to roll up the sleeves because they were a little too long. I found a button on each side that I could attach the excess sleeve so it wouldn’t flap around too much. Then, I put on the vest. It was too long too, but it didn’t look too bad when I cinched up the back. Looking over to the bed, I picked up the skirt and wondered how to put it on. I was startled when I heard, “Need help with that?”

My mother came in and picked up the skirt. She surprised me when she unzipped a hidden zipper and held it out to me. She smiled and nodded her approval. I hesitated, but then decided to put on the skirt. I started to shift the zipper to the front. “No, honey, It goes to the side on this skirt. Here, let me help.” She turned the skirt around so the zipper was to my side and zipped it up. Then, she stuffed the blouse down underneath the skirt and then buckled the short black belt on the front to adjust it around my waist. I looked in the mirror.

“It is so pretty mom. Candace looked beautiful in this dress. I remember her wearing it to church and a couple of dances. I was sad when she stopped wearing it.”

“It looks big on you now. Just like with Candace when I first bought it for her. She could wear it for over a year. It started off below her knees too and she had to give it up a few years back when she started to fill out.” Mum seemed in a haze as she remembered Candace in younger days. “It looks nice on you too, Tristy.”

Hearing my name and seeing me in a dress made me feel warm inside. Like I was being loved. “Here, let me get my camera. I want to take a picture of you in it. Would you mind?” I shook my head no and giggled.

While Mom went off to get her mobile, I looked at myself in the mirror. I twirled around. I felt this wonderful breeze through my legs. She came back and took a photo. “You know, you remind me of Candace when she was your age. You have the same beautiful eyes.”

“Mum, why don’t you mind my dressing as a girl all of a sudden. You used to hate it when I was younger. In fact, you ordered me to stop ever doing it again.”

Mum was about to answer when she paused, looked away to collect her thoughts, and then turned back. “Because you were … I mean … are a boy. Or, at least you were going to be a man. I wanted you to outgrow it.”

“But why now?” I looked back at myself in the mirror and cautiously said, “I wish I had the right shoes for this outfit. What are they called, Mary Janes?”

“Yes, Mary Janes. Honey, you have lost a part of your body that would turn you into a man. Now, I guess, you have options. The lawyer says he can get you more money if you turn into a girl. It makes for a more compelling story in the court room.”

“It shouldn’t be about money, should it?”

“No, it shouldn’t. Have you thought about becoming a girl?”

“How is that possible, Mum?”

“We can do it with something called hormones. And, they can do surgery on your private parts making them look and function like a girls.”

I smiled and turned around excitedly, “Will I be able to have babies too?”

“Not yet, Honey. Doctors are working on that. By the time you get to be an adult, they could very well have a way for you to be a mommy if you want.”

I hugged my mum. “Oh, that would be so lovely. I want to be a girl, Mum. It is my fondest wish.”

“Here, come follow me.” Mum took me by the hand and led me to her room. She opened a closet door and reached in. “I was saving this from my childhood. I meant to give it to Candace. But, I was selfish and held back. I was planning to give it to a granddaughter. But, I want you to have it if you find you like being a girl.” She cradled a doll in arms as she gently knelt down and gave her to me. It was a blond doll with a beautiful white dress with red petal flowers on it. The blouse was red with a high collar with fabric on it that matched the dress. The sleeves were short and they too had a bit which was in the pattern of the skirt. She had an angelic face with blue eyes. She had ruby red lips too. And her blond hair flowed down to her shoulders and she had beautiful bangs.

I began to cry. “She is beautiful, Mum. Simply beautiful.” I took her and held her in my arms ever so carefully. “She is so delicate too. I am afraid I might hurt her.”

“I don’t think you will. I am sure of it. What are you going to name her?”

“I like the name Evelyn. But, she looks like a Mandy. Yes, Mandy. Your name is Mandy.” I softly kissed her on the forehead.

From the doorway, I heard, “Tristy isn’t going to get in trouble this time, is he? You told me never to let him get dress up as a girl again. And I have been good about that Mom, really I have. I am sorry that I let him. I couldn’t make a scene in front of Shannon.” I turned and saw Candace standing there looking worried.

“No Honey. You are not in trouble at all. Tristy can be what ever he or she wants to be now.”

“So, Mum, can I be a girl?” I cradled Mandy.

“Yes you can be Tristy.”

I am told that Mum sued the hospital for Malepractice. She got money for me in a trust that my daddy can’t get to also, just in case he ever shows up again. All I know is that I was allowed to become Trista Bertina Collier and the money in the trust will pay for my hormones for the rest of my life. We moved my school so no one knew me as Tristan, the boy. Grandma accepted me as a girl reluctantly.

And, Dean still ignores me. Although, now he hugs me and gives me a kiss on the head before he leaves for work. He dumped his so called friend Cameron. He said he was a jerk who needed to get a life.

They allowed me after a while to have a special surgery where I got a girl’s wee wee. They used special skin from my tummy to give me a nice hole too. I have started hormones now, so I am going to grow breasts.

And, I can’t wait for the doctors to discover how to let me have babies. I want to give Mandy to a daughter of my own.

Well, a girl can dream, can’t she?

Love,

Trista



If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
up
102 users have voted.

And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks. 
This story is 5859 words long.