Entry 3 Okay so it's been a bit, but I didn't neglect writing because I forgot or anything. I just didn't have much to put down here until recently. I sure do now though... I guess it'd be best to begin from where my last entry ended at the 16th, but it'll definitely be pretty hard to pull that off after how much has happened recently. So last time I wrote I was only four days way from school starting up (I know my last one says a couple, but I had lost track of what day of the week it was after being locked up in the house for so long). The 16th through the 18th were about as lame as they could be because despite having my leg starting to feel better and start to not feel too bad (apparently I had gotten lucky with where the bullet went into my leg). They weren't lame because I had nothing to do, but all I did was worry 24/7. My mom could tell and I just told her it was school, but that was only about a fourth of it, my real worry was the doctor's confusing diagnosis and what that meant for me. I guess this would also be a good time to say that I had a massive appetite ever since I woke up in the hospital bed a month ago. I had kind of brushed it off as a side effect of the pain killers or of my body needing more energy to heal so I never found the need to write it down, but apparently it's a rather important thing. That will come up later, I just wanted to say that now before I get into the important stuff later. There was still nothing from the hospital over those days leading up to school.
February 1, 2016
My first day of the new semester was pretty cool actually because a certain pretty cashier had ended up in my literature class. This was pretty massively surprising because she never said she was in the class when we met up and never texted me about it and she knew I was in it the whole time. I had hoped that maybe she was taking it because I was in it. Beverly was pretty as always and just having her sit beside me kind of cleared my mind. Well, at least until I remembered exactly who's DNA my stupid body is replicating. Then for the rest of the class I kept stealing looks at her, not to see how pretty she was, but to really examine her. I felt like I was some CSI guy looking over her, picking apart every detail of her being from her nails to her ears. She noticed I was looking at her eventually and gave me a coy little smile and that flustered me more than I'd like to admit to anyone other than this diary. The rest of my classes were sadly Beverly-less, but honestly that's probably best for my attention.
My life went on day to day. Getting to know my teachers and fellow students and so on. Just settling in to another semester of college. Beverly's birthday was coming up really soon so I thought about getting her something, but ultimately decided not to because I thought it might be a bit too early to be buying her presents. In case you're reading this Beverly I'm sorry for not getting you anything, but hopefully you'll understand and won't be reading this after murdering me for leaving you gift-less. Anyway my life kept on relatively normally and I had officially stopped taking the pain meds on the 24th. My body still felt sore all over, but it wasn't so bad that I needed the meds and my leg was actually feeling almost fine.
It wasn't until the 30th that anything of note really happened, but boy was it "of note." I got another call from my doctor at the hospital and he asked me to come in as soon as I could find time, but that it wasn't technically urgent. I called Beverly again in hopes she had time and luckily enough, despite her busy schedule, she had time to help me again. When we got there the doctor asked for her to leave the room again which didn't exactly help my anxiety. This time though he didn't look at me like I was some evidence in a case he was desperately trying to solve, he looked relatively composed which calmed my heart for the time being. He then asked me to step on a weight scale in the room which sounded pretty odd, but I didn't object. He took my weight and gave a nod and said it was just as he had expected. Then he came over to me as I sat down and placed his hand on my forehead, but he didn't just put it there, he then raised it up and pulled my hair back until his hand was resting on my forehead. He stood there staring at my head for a few seconds and then walked away back to his chair. He asked me if I'd felt overly hungry lately too and I told him that I'd been eating like crazy. He told me that I should prepare myself for some tough news and, I mean, fuck if I've ever been more scared my mind has blocked it out of my memory to protect me because that line shook me to my core. He then began to tell me exactly what he was checking on and why. That I had lost weight despite eating so much and that the roots of my hair had began to grow in black. I don't remember how long I just kind of sat there, but despite that news probably sounding pretty basic to most it stunned me. He then asked if I'd like to take an x-ray so that he could check on some things and so I agreed. The whole process flew by because I was kind of zoned out or maybe even in shock. When the scans came through he only looked at them for a brief moment and clearly had found what he was looking for. He turned it around and showed it to me and then pointed to my lower stomach area. I just kind of blankly stared at it until I heard him tell me what I really didn't want to hear. Apparently I had new organs growing inside of me. I have new fucking organs growing inside of me! Not only that, but there's only one organ system that differs between guys and girls, the fucking sexual organ system. The doctor was literally showing me that I have ovaries growing inside of me. This is so fucked. I'm getting a little upset writing this down as you can probably tell, but for fuck's sake guys aren't often told that their bodies are just up and growing a baby making factory.
The doctor then gave me the scan and asked if I needed a moment, but I said it was alright (it wasn't, but I was definitely in shock at this point). He then told me that he had anonymously run this case by some people way up the ladder and said that with his findings today confirmed everything and could go ahead and tell me about what they said. Apparently because my case was so wild they would be willing to pay a pretty vast sum of money (including my medical bills) to oversee everything that happened from here on out. It was a pretty big offer, but he didn't sugar coat it. He told me that I would lose pretty much all body privacy whenever I came in for them to check up on me and that I'd have to let them keep tabs on me. The doctor almost seemed like he was trying to tell me not to do it with how many negatives he was listing off, but after all of that he told me that it would probably be the best decision of my life and he just wanted me to have all the information before making my decision. I said yes and so he told me that he'd have to get all the paperwork done and go ahead and tell them the full story, but that it should all be ready in a few weeks.
Beverly had to leave because of how long I was there, but thankfully Michael was available to come by and pick me up. Whenever I got into the car with him he immediately told me I looked smaller. He said that not only did I look skinnier, but maybe even a bit shorter. I told him he was imagining things, but if anyone would notice my height it'd be him. We had argued over who was taller a number of times and are (well, were now I guess) pretty much exactly the same height. This didn't exactly relax me, but after everything I had heard it wasn't much of a surprise. He took me home without much else to say, but it was nice to catch up with him after not seeing him for so long.
Thankfully it was a Saturday so I didn't have to worry about college in the morning, but I doubt I would've gone after everything I had just heard. If all of my rambling up above hasn't made it clear enough I'll try to summarize. I'm turning into Beverly Woodward. God that's so fucking weird to write. It doesn't feel real that's for sure. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and this will all be a dream, but every time I see this diary it kind of shocks me back to reality. Like for whatever reason this diary is the proof of my reality. That night I pretty much passed out and I didn't wake up till late morning the next day. I went into the bathroom first thing in the morning as I usually do and decided to really check myself out. I lifted my hair and sure enough my roots were black. You couldn't tell normally because my hair wasn't short enough, but they were definitely visible if you really looked. Then I took off all my clothes. I don't know what I expected, like if I took them all off I'd be some skinny stick, but thankfully that wasn't the case. I did seem a bit slimmer, but it looked more like I had gone on a diet than was transitioning to a skinny girl. I checked my height and it didn't really seem to be any shorter than usual, that was until I looked at the wallpaper behind my head and realized my head didn't quite reach the loop (if you've never seen my bathroom it's got a floral design) that it once did. I felt defeated, hell I still feel defeated. I called up the hospital and asked for the doctor to ask him about my condition. Once I got a hold of him I asked him if there wasn't any way I could get my body to start making my DNA again, but he just told me that that's going to be part of the study they'll be doing on me. I guess that makes sense. Not like there are a lot of documented cases of people changing into one another.
Today's Monday and I'm writing this just after getting out of class. It was really hard to look at Beverly in a sexual way like I once had anymore. I mean sure, she was still crazy hot, but it's just not the same anymore. It's hard to explain because, again, I doubt this has ever really happened before. There aren't really any examples I can give to try and help others relate. I guess it'd be kind of like a lesbian looking at herself in the mirror. Like, yeah she's attracted to girls, but that doesn't mean she's attracted to herself. That's so weird having to use that as an example, but whatever I'm past the point of normal weirdness like that messing with me. Well honestly I don't know what else to write. I'm still kind of processing everything. I don't know how long it will be until I write another entry, but here's hoping I'll be writing in this tomorrow saying that the doctor called me up and told me I was hallucinating and everything's fine. Wouldn't that be great...
February 29, 2016 Every fucking day just gets weirder and weirder. You know that whole deal where if you put a frog in boiling water it'll jump out, but if you slowly heat it the frog will just stay in and die eventually? If there's not a more accurate comparison with me then I don't know what is (I'll explain it a bit more later). Last time I wrote was a month ago and if it wasn't for my first examination (you know, from that whole thing the doctor talked about where they'd watch my progress and stuff) I'd probably still not be writing in here. I went the whole month pushing everything to the back of my mind and day to day I just drug myself out of bed without paying much attention to the mirror, but as it turns out, I'm changing quite a bit faster than the doc originally thought.
I guess I should start from where I left off and work my way through my month instead of just rambling so here goes. After seeing that my body was already starting to get affected I decided to just stop looking (great decision right?). It's not like I was really thinking about it, but it just kind of happened. Every day I was in class with Beverly I couldn't bare to look at her anymore. At first it was how weird it was, but now something else entirely has developed. The guilt that rises up inside me that I haven't told her about this makes my heart race whenever I'm around her at all. I can't look her in the eye now at all and I fucking hate it. She was this shining light in my life and now every time I think about her I practically fall apart. FUCK THIS! It wasn't like my life was miserable before, but she's such an amazing person and she showed real interest in me and now all this shit is happening. It's like I'm not allowed to be happy.
The other problem that was quickly arising was my parents. How the Hell am I supposed to keep this a secret from them for much longer? I've been doing alright and have deflected their concerns about my weight loss so far, but what happens when their son is a girl named Beverly? It's going to be kind of hard to brush them off them. I've thought about moving on to campus or something, but I don't know if running away from the problem will help. All I know is that I'm extremely thankful for this checkup thing the doctor set up because if what they're telling me is right I won't only be able to pay off all my medical bills myself without having to even tell my parents about it, but I should have enough money left to attend a nice college to finish my degree. It's nice to get some good with all this bad I guess.
Anyway, a few weeks passed and the doctor called me up and told me everything was in order and that my first checkup was on the 28th. I think I got that call on the 21st so I had a week before I had to face the truth. I didn't think much of it and I kind of just let time pass by. The only time I ever even looked in the mirror was to make sure my new hair color wasn't showing. Honestly I wasn't that worried about most people seeing it, but if my parents or Michael saw it then I couldn't quite claim I had died my hair brown could I? I can't believe I never noticed anything different during those times, but I guess we see what we want to.
It was the day of the check up and for the first time I really didn't know who to call. I had practically shut Beverly out so I couldn't bare calling her to help, Michael was clearly too observant because he noticed more than even my parents seemed to, but my parents think I'm done going to the hospital so I was out of options. I decided to walk to a bus stop and just take it there (something I had never done before). My parents weren't home so I managed to leave without having to make any excuses and I went on my way to the bus stop. The bus ride there was terrible. It wasn't because of any kind of problems with the bus or the people, but with myself. I got so anxious sitting in that seat than I may have ever been. It was Hell the whole time until I finally got out and went inside the hospital.
My regular doctor was in the examination room, but then there were also two new faces that I had never met before. I don't know why, but I felt almost betrayed when I first saw them. I knew other people would have to be involved, but just the idea of anyone else knowing about my condition kind of scared me I guess. One was balding and the other had a beard. I can't really remember their names. I mean I still barely remember my own doctors name (it's Dr. Seirots, but I only learned to spell it this meetup so I never wrote it down). I sat down on the end of the exam table and they asked me a number of questions about how I've been feeling and so on. Most were pretty normal, that was until they got into this really weird line of questions that threw me off. One of the new doctors, the bald one, started asking me things about how I was thinking and feeling emotionally. I was so bewildered by the questions that it was only later that night that they really set in as to why he was asking them. Once the questions were done and I the doctors and I were at least a bit more familiar they started with the physical examination. I was asked to strip completely which was insanely embarrassing, but I guess it was to be expected. It wasn't until I was standing completely naked and saw my doctor's surprised face that I really took the time to look down at my own body. That was probably one of the weirdest experiences I've ever had. Just think, looking down and instead of seeing the old hairy and flat chest you're so used to, you're met with a hairless chest with two completely erect nipples sitting on top of a bit of extra flesh that's not supposed to be there. God I hope no one ever reads this, if Michael ever looked in here and saw me talking about my nipples being erect I doubt I'd ever live it down (note to self: hide diary better from here on out). All three of the doctors looked very surprised and took a few seconds to compose themselves and begin writing things down. I was asked to step on to the scale and as I walked past my doctor I could clearly tell I was no longer as tall as him. In fact, I was at least a full inch, if not more, shorter than him now. I stepped up on the scale and even I could tell how much lighter it felt to lift my body up. The scale worked with the weights at the top that the doctor or nurse would always move left and right until it balanced and my side didn't have the notches, but I could just tell by far to one side my doctor had to correct that I had lost a lot of weight. He gestured me back to the table and so I stepped off the scale and went back over. It was really weird feeling my legs and my genitals move around. If I wasn't so afraid to look (I've looked since) I'd be staring down and examining myself to see exactly what's changed down there (I'll explain more later). The doctors then began to take measurements of my body. My arm length, leg length, and worst of all they even had me take my penis and sit it in my hand to get a proper measurement of it (now I've explained). I didn't know my arm or leg length, but there were two measurements that I immediately knew were shorter than they used to be. My height and, regrettably, my penis had both shrunk. I had never done an exact measurement of either, but it was clear that I was about an inch and a half to two inches shorter than I used to be and my privates had shrunken (I'll keep the exact numbers of that to myself). Afterwards they began to feel my joints and my muscles. I remember how odd it felt to have their rough skin against mine, but that's exactly when it hit me. I hadn't really been able to tell, but my skin was clearly much smoother than it had used to be. Once they were done with all that they took a few pictures and then sent me on my way.
I rode the bus back home and it was entirely different experience. I don't think I've ever really had to use this word, but I felt vulnerable. I had only lost a couple inches off my height and some weight, but my brain was practically screaming "BE AFRAID" the whole ride home. The news of everything I had learned in the exam surely wasn't helping, but it was clear that something internally had changed. I guess that might be what the balding doctor was getting at with those questions. Now that I think about it I wonder if my brain is already doing weird shit that I'm not even aware of. This just keeps getting better and better doesn't it? I'll leave that thought for a later day though. That night when I got home I practically ran up to my room so my mom nor my dad could see me. I had been so dumb to think that they wouldn't notice because it was absolutely clear to me how huge the changes had been. In only two months I had lost two inches or so and it felt like it was going faster and faster. If that was any indication I would be about Beverly's height in only another three to four months. I rationed that out that night and realized I had to get a good look at myself right then and there. I stripped down in my bathroom and examined myself and boy was I in for a surprise. I had gone from nearly six feet tall to only about five feet ten inches, but that wasn't the real problem. I had lost at least twenty pounds. I was too scared to ask for my weight when I was at the hospital, but I really wish I had because guessing at weights like I am now isn't doing much to help my sanity. After seeing the huge changes like that properly I moved on to the next most obvious change, my chest. I rested my hand right below my nipple and though it was incredibly faint, I could clearly feel some flesh building up there. I was growing boobs. I moved my hand to my newly enlarged nipples, but right before I could touch them there was a knock on my door. My mom was really concerned about me and wanted to know if everything was okay. I tried to yell back that I was fine, but as soon as I tried to say fine my voice cracked. I was nineteen and my fucking voice cracked. I ended up getting her to go away, but it was very clear to me that I couldn't hide this from her especially for any longer. I had a confession in the very near future. I slid my underwear back on and immediately got into bed, but even that was weird. I typically wore pajamas, but because of the events last night I just wanted to be covered up as quickly as possible. My skin rubbing against the covers though was yet another new experience I would have to deal with. It was kind of arousing in a weird way, but I'll stop it there because I've still got so much going on in my head.
I managed to drag myself out of bed this morning and chose the baggiest clothing I had available. After school today I got home and immediately started writing so here I am. I haven't had much time to just think. Oh also, Beverly was absent from class for the first time today. I doubt I could've even sat in the same room with her now though knowing that her boobs are growing on my chest. God this is so weird. I plan on telling everything to my parents really soon and maybe Beverly, maybe not I don't even know anymore. I might just drop that class and avoid her until I can do something to make myself look different from her. Just got a text from her actually and she says she wants to talk. I guess I should probably stop live writing things as they happen, but I'm really scared now about what she wants to talk about. If she found out about what's going on and wants to kill me then I guess this diary will be my last message to the world.
"To all readers of my diary: First off, how dare you read my diary, that's hella rude. Secondly Michael, this whole DNA switching thing doesn't count I was and always will be taller than you. Thirdly, Mom, Dad, and everyone else who loved me and I loved, I'm really scared right now about what's happening to me and I'm really sorry that I didn't tell you something sooner."
That got a little darker than that joke was intended to, for whatever reason I'm finding it easier and easier to get emotional these days...