The world whirled around me. The room, already taller ('I'm 5'9...') and narrower ('I'm a fat old woman') than I remembered; seemed to distort. Crushing like a vice, but looming and distant. No longer an examination room, but an oubliette. What was happening to me? Everything was wrong. Everything. With nothing to anchor me to myself, with every sensation driving me away from my own body...
"So...you're now saying you're satisfied with the results?" The stammery voice of the doctor tore me out of my reverie. But...did it? I still felt almost as if I was watching myself. But I was also within myself. As if my soul had been torn in half. One, the pure platonic me, the 16 year old boy floating off to the side; the other, the doomed overweight housewife, stuffed in a padded cell of child bearing hips and cellulite.
That half of me was running his (her?) hands along those church bell hips now. "Oh yes. Sorry to make such a scene!" I said. It was my mother's voice only...more. The same intonation, the same nasally lilt, the same aging almost-rasp on some consonants, But more forceful somehow. Enthusiastic. Complete. This was what I wanted, right? I agreed with barely any hesitation. And everyone had said it was what I wanted. Surely they wouldn't all be so cruel as to lie to me about something so profound?
The doctor's assistant was now taking notes furiously. The doctor himself continued. "So earlier, you're uh-when you were crying. Just shock perhaps?"
I tittered. It was effeminate as hell. Part of me cringed as I did it. But the other part of me said it was exactly how I should laugh now. "Yes. It's just a bit of a shock. It took me a moment to adjust. You see-" I wrapped my arms around my waist protectively, blushing; felt the pressure compress my mother's-my-paunch. "-Deep down, I've always felt like a middle aged woman trapped in a teenage boy's body." I...I did? That was completely absurd. I'd never heard anything so stupid in my life. But...but it was so specific. Why else would I? What was I...but...they said I wanted this. Everyone wanted this. Right? The feeling of being in a brain-only centrifuge was starting to fade, leaving behind an ominous numbness.
"I see. A very unusual form of body dysmorphic disorder. We were told something like that by your moth-er, your 'son' David, prior to intake."
I nodded vigorously, my new face breaking into a manic smile. Crow's feet, smile lines, and furrows erupted from the extreme expression. "And not just the body. I love the new me of course. But the life too! I've wanted to be a housewife and mother as long as I can remember, and Cathy was just so homebound and traditional she was perfect. When we realized she wanted to be young and independent, while I wanted to be a doting, motherly homemaker. Things couldn't have worked out better. When the opportunity came to swap we took it right away! I'm so grateful to finally be who I was meant to be!" The crushing smile was squeezing tears from my matronly brown eyes. I don't think either of my interviewers noticed though.
"Good, good. Happy to be of help! We'll want to see you and your son again of course, Mrs. Geneway-" I shivered at the new title preceding my...my married name. "- But I see no reason to keep you here any longer. Let's get you back to your family."
My reflection bobbed up and down giddily, head nodding so vigorously it sent ripples from my pendulous breasts to my gravid thighs. "Yes, please! I can't wait to show my son and my husband the new me!"