"I see you're ready to go, Mr. Iglesias." The nurse said as she walked inside of the room.

"More than ready." He said, standing up. He smoothed out his short dress, fixed a small bunch in his pantyhose at his knee, and adjusted his dress some. He didn't want anything to pop out and he really did not feel they were secure.

"You sure about that?" She asked with a mild laugh. He shot her a look, but she didn't care. She was buxom herself and this was a familiar struggle for her.

"They're not going to pop out, don't worry." She said softly. "I should know."

"They, they feel like they will." He insisted.

"They won't. Besides, we both know that isn't your biggest worry right now."

He looked back up and her, and this time his expression softened. She was right and he realized now she wasn't mocking him or making fun.

"You're right. Do they know why he did this to all of us?"

"Still no." She said. "Kind of on everyone's mind why a respected neurosurgeon did this, or even how he managed to do it, like, multiple times, but no one has figured it out yet. Sorry."

"Don't be. Not your fault." He said politely. "I know you probably can't answer this yet, but this is forever, isn't it?"

"Short answer, we don't know. The more realistic answer is that no one seems to know how he did it and if they don't know how he did it, well I think you can guess the rest."

"I can. Thank you for your honesty. My son is here?"

"Waiting in the waiting room. Follow me."

As he walked out of the room into the hallway, he wondered at how this all came to pass. Why him? What made this guy do this to him and those others? He wasn't even prepared to figure out how to be a woman and now, prepared or not, he'd have to start soon. Very soon.