REWIND – THE 1990s: PSYCHOLOGIST
I had a strange experience this week.
- Uh huh.
A bit like a football match, you could say – story of two halves.
- How about we kick off with the first half then?
Well…last weekend, I rang up to complain about an item on the radio.
- Oh, yes…?
A Sunday newspaper had reported that a 'one-time close friend of a former Tory MP' had tested positive for HIV. You know, the ex-cabinet minister who’s hoping to be a candidate for the vacant seat in London?
- The one who’s admitted to having relationships with both men and women, back in his student days?
That’s the one. He’d decided that it was better to be up front about it, rather than wait for them to use it against him in the selection process.
- So what was your complaint then?
Well, HIV is pretty bad news for anyone. But these two presenters seemed to think it was more fun to have a giggle at the politician; no thought for the man who’s probably going to die of AIDS.
- And that bothered you, even though you’re not gay, or HIV positive yourself?
Yes. It made me think of Tom Hanks in that film Philadelphia. When the lawyer was questioning why he’d kept his HIV status secret from his employers. He said that he had thought about telling them. But then he’d overheard the partners sharing a joke about faggots and after that he was just relieved that he hadn’t said anything.
- Hmm, homophobia IS still very common.
But NOT on the BBC.
- No-o-o. So, is that the end of part one then?
Well, yes, and no. I was telling the story to a fellow member of the children’s panel; in her car on the way to a hearing this week.
- And she agreed with you?
Oh, yes. She commended me for my action.
- But?
Well, this is really where it comes to part two. You see, while we were waiting for the hearing to start, she got talking to the other member of our panel about another panel member, from another area, who’s under pressure to resign.
- Some kind of scandal?
I’ll leave you to judge that. It seems this Mr X is about to have an operation and come back as Ms X.
- Hmm. I can see that might not go down so well in some quarters.
Quite. Apparently someone from the Kirk is questioning how such an individual could possibly be trusted to help children when HE-stroke-SHE was so obviously...deviant?
- And what did your panel colleagues make of that?
Essentially, they agreed. Again, it was one big joke: she was a freak, and her participation in future hearings would CLEARLY need to be looked at.
- How did that make YOU feel?
At the time? Alone? Cold all over?
- And afterwards?
Very much like Tom Hanks, really – just SO glad that I hadn’t confided in either one of them.
FAST FORWARD – 2020: GP
There’s nothing like that first time when you blow the cover of a lifetime and step out the door as the real you.
- I can imagine. Though I suppose it must be a little less scary these days than it might have been when we were talking about it 25 years ago?
Well, yes. The kids are grown up and flown the nest. Both the parents are gone now too; they would have found it hard to understand...But the general climate is quite different these days, compared to back then. From the media, you could sometimes think it was almost fashionable to be transgender these days.
- Do I hear a 'but' in there?
Hmm...I still don’t think it’s quite so straightforward, even now. I mean, yes, you tell family and friends and the general response is pretty much the same all round – 'okay, fair enough, it’s up to you.' Quite relaxed about the whole thing...apparently.
- But…?
I think it’s a bit like this. Back then, if you did summon up the courage to confide in someone, the most likely response was a very large step BACK. I lost a couple of very close, long-standing friends that way. Nowadays, maybe they don’t take the same step back, but, by and large, they don’t really take a step FORWARD either.
- That sounds quite...lonely.
Yes, ironic isn’t it. The psychologists still love to probe how desperate and suicidal you might be. When what they really SHOULD be asking themselves, is whether you are a sufficiently stable and resilient individual to be able to cope with the whole thing on your own. Oh, and of course, unless you are unusually rich, it certainly doesn’t do any harm to have a good deal of patience.
- No, the NHS can do a lot to help these days, but it’s a slow process. And NOW...It must be particularly hard: after yet another four years working through to a surgery date, before...
Quite. CORONOAVIRUS. It’s like endlessly trudging through a snowdrift, only to be overtaken by the avalanche rushing up on you from behind.
- Hmm. That seems quite an apt analogy for most of us just now. But your day will still come. Postponed perhaps, but not CANCELLED.
That’s what I try to tell myself. After all, I can hardly complain at having to step aside and wait my turn at a time like this. If it was me being rushed into intensive care, I’d certainly be grateful that we live in a country where treatment is given out according to medical need, and not ability to pay. And even when it’s all over, quite rightly, there’ll still be all those cancer treatments, hip replacements, and the rest ahead of ME in the queue.
- Yes, it’s going to take time. And some things may never go quite back to the way they were before. But you WILL get there in the end.
A new me, for the new normal?
- Without doubt.