This is England. Heartbreaking.
This week NHS England released their new guidance and every news outlet announced in bold letters, with the BBC putting it on their front page, that transgender women are to be barred from female hospital wards. Trans guys are banned from male wards, too, but they are invisibilised in the narrative, trans women are the âdangerâ, and so weâre the focus.
I have Multiple Sclerosis and so I need to use hospitals from time to time. I havenât stayed in hospital in the last 10 years, but the time is coming. Now the guidance suggests staff will endeavour to put me in a side room, but who are we kidding the NHS isnât the Tardis and isnât replete with rooms they arenât using for people who need them, and so I will be placed on a menâs ward. Every examination, every time I need to get up to use the toilet, every urgent response to my needs, will all be in a room full of men.
And of course, being placed on that ward reveals our transgender status to everyone. This woman, who most people think of as just another girl in the street, is going to have her gender history revealed to all who see her while in her most vulnerable state.
I can feel it already. The part of me so desperate to be realised in this world tugs at me, scared that weâll go back, that weâll put ourselves in the horrifying situation where weâre thought of as a man once more. I felt it when we fell off the Rocinante, our manual wheelchair, splayed out in the road surrounded by good, concerned people who saw this woman in need and stopped to help, asking urgently whether I needed an ambulance. I felt that pull to minimise the symptoms, to tell them I was ok, unsure of how much my appraisal of the seriousness of my injuries was being shaped by my fear of what would happen if I went to hospital.