of my face that wasn't bandaged, took a deep breath, prayed that I wouldn't meet someone in the hallway and left my room. The Gods were kind to me as I didn't see a soul in the hall or in the elevator. I slipped out the side entrance and walked around the block just to get the feel of myself and to observe people I passed on the street. Some ignored me and others gave me an odd look. And no wonder—it was late November, night, and the weather was quite chilly—and I had no coat. It was Friday evening and some of the stores were open, so that oversight was quickly remedied. I walked into one store, found the coat rack, selected one, paid for it and left without uttering a sound. The saleslady was very sympathetic and discreet. When she first approached me, I pointed to the scar on my throat, smiled and nodded yes when she asked if she could help me. During the short transaction, though, she called me 'Ma'm' and 'sweetie' several times. The coat made all the difference in the world, not only was I warm, but I noticed most people would just glance at me and then pay me no more attention.

I realized I was also hungry and walked into a small diner and sat down in a booth. The waitress, too, was understanding, especially when I wrote out my order for dinner. She asked if I had been injured in an accident. Truthfully, I nodded 'yes' and pointed to the scar on my throat. She smiled and patted me on the shoulder. She was careful to ask me only questions that could be answered with a nod; but as time permitted, she talked to me about everything-the weather, the town, her husband and kids, etc. I told her by note that I would probably get my voice back, but that it would require several operations. From then on, I took all my meals there when I was dressed. She was so darned nice to me that I disliked fooling her—if I really did. It was still fairly early when I finished eating that first evening, so I decided to take in a movie. I don't recall the name of the movie, but there were two men in it dressed as women that staged a robbery—of all places—in the ladies lounge of a night club. I think most people would have been fooled if they hadn't removed their wigs in the getaway car!

Almost every evening after that, I dressed and went out. Sometimes just to eat and other times to a movie or to take a walk. I became quite bold as time—and I—passed. I had purchased two dresses and another pair of shoes as well as another coat just to round out my wardrobe. I no longer sneaked out the side entrance—but boldly walked by the desk as I used the front entrance. I smiled every time the doorman opened the door for me--something he didn't do when I was dressed in male attire. One little incident spooked me a little, and yet helped build my self-confidence considerably. One evening, the manager called my room

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