Friday, June 27, 2003
BLOOD LETTING
I had my bloods taken this morning. 5 tubes of the stuff removed for analysis, the results of which will be discussed in 3 weeks time with my HIV specialist. I see my doctor about 3 times a year and whilst you think i'd be comfortable with these meetings by now, they still make me feel a little uneasy, - especially around the time of the 'blood letting'. - after all it is my state of health at the time blood is taken which is the subject for discussion three weeks later. (By which time, of course, things could have got better or worse...). I can't help but wish my bloodcells well as they seep down that tube and march their way to the various frontline labs; this millilitre of blood assigned to viral load analysis, that mililitre dispatched to syphilis screening duty.... None will return home but we will duly reap the benefits or consequences of their faithful service.....
The subject of Syphilis screening was high on my nurse's mind this morning as she strove to find light conversation whilst macerating my arm for the blood. I'm notorious at the clinic for having 'jiggly veins' - veins which dodge out of the way just as you are about to lance one with the needle. It is this trait which usually puts a nurse on edge, leading them to whitter inanely on any subject which first enters their mind. And so it was syphilis, the pros of screening and the pain of the treatment injections. "I'd prefer to go mad" i said jokingly....
Such is the 'jiggliness' of my veins that i'ts rare, indeed, for me to leave the clinic with just one plaster on my arm. Theres usually a lot of poking around before the unlucky 'bleeder' manages to hook one. It's usually followed by an exasperated "gotcha yer bugger" coming from the nurse, bringing images of JR Hartley in waders and with a fishing rod to mind....Thankfully the nurse, who I thought was German, got the thing done first go. I looked at her and said "Vorsprung durch Technik", assuming she would get my witty 90s reference to German technical efficiency (the phrase was used to sell Audi cars..). She looked at me as if I had gone mad. "I'll just check your last screening for syphilis before you go" she said........
I had my bloods taken this morning. 5 tubes of the stuff removed for analysis, the results of which will be discussed in 3 weeks time with my HIV specialist. I see my doctor about 3 times a year and whilst you think i'd be comfortable with these meetings by now, they still make me feel a little uneasy, - especially around the time of the 'blood letting'. - after all it is my state of health at the time blood is taken which is the subject for discussion three weeks later. (By which time, of course, things could have got better or worse...). I can't help but wish my bloodcells well as they seep down that tube and march their way to the various frontline labs; this millilitre of blood assigned to viral load analysis, that mililitre dispatched to syphilis screening duty.... None will return home but we will duly reap the benefits or consequences of their faithful service.....
The subject of Syphilis screening was high on my nurse's mind this morning as she strove to find light conversation whilst macerating my arm for the blood. I'm notorious at the clinic for having 'jiggly veins' - veins which dodge out of the way just as you are about to lance one with the needle. It is this trait which usually puts a nurse on edge, leading them to whitter inanely on any subject which first enters their mind. And so it was syphilis, the pros of screening and the pain of the treatment injections. "I'd prefer to go mad" i said jokingly....
Such is the 'jiggliness' of my veins that i'ts rare, indeed, for me to leave the clinic with just one plaster on my arm. Theres usually a lot of poking around before the unlucky 'bleeder' manages to hook one. It's usually followed by an exasperated "gotcha yer bugger" coming from the nurse, bringing images of JR Hartley in waders and with a fishing rod to mind....Thankfully the nurse, who I thought was German, got the thing done first go. I looked at her and said "Vorsprung durch Technik", assuming she would get my witty 90s reference to German technical efficiency (the phrase was used to sell Audi cars..). She looked at me as if I had gone mad. "I'll just check your last screening for syphilis before you go" she said........
Monday, June 23, 2003
Not Long back from the Royal Vauxhall Tavern. An evening of half naked men, all shapes and sizes, mostly off their heads and like me content just to share being happy and high as our weekends draw to a close. As much as I have enjoyed my weekend (re-) visiting family, chatting with aunts and mothers and sisters.. there is, unfortunately, only so much heterosexuality and matriarchy I can take. Bring on the boys.....
Sunday, June 22, 2003
FAMILY FUNERAL
Just back from another visit seeing family in the Midlands. An Uncle's untimely death last week meant clan-calls from my sister about the funeral this friday and I agreed to go. I didn't know the uncle too well, but I felt the need to show support and respect to my mother, I guess.
Now I should point out that I have never been too hot on fmily gatherings... Whilst I used to like all those family weddings when I was younger (mainly for the party food) - I have never been a great socialiser, and particularly so with my many aunts uncles and cousins. I never seem to have the funny anecdotes to tell, an interesting adventure or memory. Certainly never the interesting childhoods that my aunts and cousins seem to have led. I was always the one, it seems, whose main purpose was to instigate small-talk about being handsome or growing taller. Either that or fetching ash-trays. And so in later life small talk can still sometimes avoid me at such gatherings - or, rather, I have avoided it as I have gone in search of a quieter corner and a more interesting sandwich from the food table...
....I have somehow and for certain reasons, managed to shun these large family gatherings for about 20 years. Until now. Caused to think about my mother's gradual loss of her siblings ("five down, three to go," she said...) I was bought to think of my own death and the reassurance of feelings that you are known and remembered.
It was a sad affair. Sadness of the occasion - clearly he was a man well loved and missed. Sadness at my realisation - given a 20 year absence from gatherings - that the numbers in my extended family have extraodinarily dwindled. But there was happiness there too. A room of ancients eager to share their adventures and lives as if the perpetuation of memory was enough in itself to stave away the reaper. And such solidarity in mirth. Despite the solemnity of the occasion, I half expected someone to suggest we move the furniture, join hands and do the hokey cokey....
I came across at the event a bit of a stranger. And it figures. Many were forced to enact the old "I havent seen you since you were this height", others took double takes, and others very much like me, chose just to pretend that we'd just forgotten the name or the face. But I never felt an outsider.
Before I left I had a chance to chat briefly with the cousin who's father had just been buried. After a quick chat and apologies for not having got to know her family more she asked "Are you happy?". " Yes" I replied, and to which she responded "well even after 20 years, thats all we really need to know...."
Just back from another visit seeing family in the Midlands. An Uncle's untimely death last week meant clan-calls from my sister about the funeral this friday and I agreed to go. I didn't know the uncle too well, but I felt the need to show support and respect to my mother, I guess.
Now I should point out that I have never been too hot on fmily gatherings... Whilst I used to like all those family weddings when I was younger (mainly for the party food) - I have never been a great socialiser, and particularly so with my many aunts uncles and cousins. I never seem to have the funny anecdotes to tell, an interesting adventure or memory. Certainly never the interesting childhoods that my aunts and cousins seem to have led. I was always the one, it seems, whose main purpose was to instigate small-talk about being handsome or growing taller. Either that or fetching ash-trays. And so in later life small talk can still sometimes avoid me at such gatherings - or, rather, I have avoided it as I have gone in search of a quieter corner and a more interesting sandwich from the food table...
....I have somehow and for certain reasons, managed to shun these large family gatherings for about 20 years. Until now. Caused to think about my mother's gradual loss of her siblings ("five down, three to go," she said...) I was bought to think of my own death and the reassurance of feelings that you are known and remembered.
It was a sad affair. Sadness of the occasion - clearly he was a man well loved and missed. Sadness at my realisation - given a 20 year absence from gatherings - that the numbers in my extended family have extraodinarily dwindled. But there was happiness there too. A room of ancients eager to share their adventures and lives as if the perpetuation of memory was enough in itself to stave away the reaper. And such solidarity in mirth. Despite the solemnity of the occasion, I half expected someone to suggest we move the furniture, join hands and do the hokey cokey....
I came across at the event a bit of a stranger. And it figures. Many were forced to enact the old "I havent seen you since you were this height", others took double takes, and others very much like me, chose just to pretend that we'd just forgotten the name or the face. But I never felt an outsider.
Before I left I had a chance to chat briefly with the cousin who's father had just been buried. After a quick chat and apologies for not having got to know her family more she asked "Are you happy?". " Yes" I replied, and to which she responded "well even after 20 years, thats all we really need to know...."
Thursday, June 19, 2003
THE VISIT (AFTER)
Hmmm... I feel as if I've just bullshitted for England - even though I haven't. Certainly the first time that I've sat with a stranger at my dinner table and spent an hour talking about poo with a cup of coffee and a rich tea finger.....
Of course I'm now worried that some DLA spy might come across this blog, find out who I am and use it in evidence against me... And all this to maintenance the twenty or so pounds I get each week to pay for my extra toilet rolls, vitamins and washing powder....
But we've filled in the 40 page forms together and the DLA worker has left them behind for me to check before posting. And very nice of her to come at 12 rather than 4 in the allocated 12-4 time slot... I' now free this afternoon to walk (slowly but out of breath of course! - a DLA joke) to the shops... I think I might run the forms past a benefits adviser at the Lighthouse or THT, though, before I post them off. Best to make sure there's nothing I've misssed out or mis-represented...and it will be good to have some reassurance in my justified right to claim....
Hmmm... I feel as if I've just bullshitted for England - even though I haven't. Certainly the first time that I've sat with a stranger at my dinner table and spent an hour talking about poo with a cup of coffee and a rich tea finger.....
Of course I'm now worried that some DLA spy might come across this blog, find out who I am and use it in evidence against me... And all this to maintenance the twenty or so pounds I get each week to pay for my extra toilet rolls, vitamins and washing powder....
But we've filled in the 40 page forms together and the DLA worker has left them behind for me to check before posting. And very nice of her to come at 12 rather than 4 in the allocated 12-4 time slot... I' now free this afternoon to walk (slowly but out of breath of course! - a DLA joke) to the shops... I think I might run the forms past a benefits adviser at the Lighthouse or THT, though, before I post them off. Best to make sure there's nothing I've misssed out or mis-represented...and it will be good to have some reassurance in my justified right to claim....
THE VISIT (BEFORE)
Hmmph! I have a visitor coming this afternoon from 'the Disability'. I'm not exactly running out to buy scones and tea, though! As a disabled person due to my HIV, I can qualify for a number of packages of assistance from my government. One benefit I can (and do) claim is Disability Living Allowance (DLA).This is a weekly payment which allows me to offset some of the extra costs brought about by my Illness. I hate claiming this benefit, even though at times I am financially dependent upon it. When first doing the paperwork, HIV agencies advise that you need to present a worst case scenario of your condition. Whilst you may feel great this week, you may feel vile the next and require help with shopping. Whilst today you seem to be able to control your bowel movements, tomorrow there may be those extra cartloads of bed linen to wash, etc...
The reasons I hate the processes of DLA are quite straightforward. In filling in the forms and writing what might happen, you are forced to imagine a potentially real future of very chronic infirmity and need. And it really does feel at times as if you are wishing yourself ill for the sake of a few bucks... All of this, of course, on a day when you feel in good health. Which also doesn't help, because you then start to feel as if your assesment is fraudulent. You start, ironically, to feel guilty about feeling healthy!
If you are lucky, a case worker never comes to verify yr claim. There is nothing worse than talking about soiling your knickers to a total stranger! This is the second time I've had a visitor, however, and (damn it) on a day when I feel positively radiant.....
More later on how it went.....
Hmmph! I have a visitor coming this afternoon from 'the Disability'. I'm not exactly running out to buy scones and tea, though! As a disabled person due to my HIV, I can qualify for a number of packages of assistance from my government. One benefit I can (and do) claim is Disability Living Allowance (DLA).This is a weekly payment which allows me to offset some of the extra costs brought about by my Illness. I hate claiming this benefit, even though at times I am financially dependent upon it. When first doing the paperwork, HIV agencies advise that you need to present a worst case scenario of your condition. Whilst you may feel great this week, you may feel vile the next and require help with shopping. Whilst today you seem to be able to control your bowel movements, tomorrow there may be those extra cartloads of bed linen to wash, etc...
The reasons I hate the processes of DLA are quite straightforward. In filling in the forms and writing what might happen, you are forced to imagine a potentially real future of very chronic infirmity and need. And it really does feel at times as if you are wishing yourself ill for the sake of a few bucks... All of this, of course, on a day when you feel in good health. Which also doesn't help, because you then start to feel as if your assesment is fraudulent. You start, ironically, to feel guilty about feeling healthy!
If you are lucky, a case worker never comes to verify yr claim. There is nothing worse than talking about soiling your knickers to a total stranger! This is the second time I've had a visitor, however, and (damn it) on a day when I feel positively radiant.....
More later on how it went.....
THE STORY SO FAR...CHAPTER 4
More facts, figures and personal info to help contextualise my blog... This feature blogged weekly on Wednesdays/Thursdays. Hmmm lets see... As of today....
I have had no serious HIV related Illnesses. Much of the trauma of living with HIV can relate to the many infections and conditions that can crop up as a consequence of a depressed immune system. These can vary from the simplest bouts of fungal and bacterial infection (athletes foot, warts, spots...) to more complicated viral infections and cancers. Much of the more severe (indeed deadly) stuff occurs mostly when the immune system is seriously depressed. Thus it is thanks to effective drug regimes bolstering my bodily defences that I currently do not have to deal with chronic health conditions. Thankfully, I only have the odd mouth ulcer, blemish or wart to deal with......
I have had no Serious HIV drug related side effects. The drugs which maintenance my immune system are themselves very toxic and can create chronic complications to health. Many of the meds affect how the Liver and digestive system functions, whilst others can impact on blood and nerve systems. I'm pretty sure, too, that some drugs can also dull the brain synapses impacting upon powers of thought and memory. Some basic and more manageable side effects include diarrhoea and nausea. More dangerous and debilitating effects include Peripheral Neuropathy - tingling or the loss of sensation in fingers and limbs... and Lipodistophy - an abnormal re-distribution of fats around the body.. Thankfully my good diet, excercise and circulation has mean that I have had few side effects, even though I am on a quadruple (4-drug) combination therapy that is one of the most toxic. I have yet to take the drugs which cause seriously wierd dreams!
I do not I look Like I am HIV. As vain as it sounds, its fair to say that most of us with my condition worry a little about looking as if we have HIV. Much of the changes in quality of life bought about by drug regimes relate as much to real health improvements as they relate to the visual signs of good health. In the past before the medications, it was mainly, I think, that very thin wasted look and its association with AIDS that had us running scared. But with the advent of drugs, it now seems you can judge the man by his fat distribution and lipodystrophy. Unfortunately, we now live in fear of the pot-belly, hollowed cheeks and saggy arse - visual symptoms of body coping badly with distributing fat. Thankfully, much of lypodistrophy and its effects is an insider thing. Its mostly only HIV individuals (and their carers) who know about it and its symptoms. Whilst others might just see a fat stomach or a butt in need of a few sets of leg-press, the HIV individual spots a potential fellow sufferer. I have met several friends and lovers by noting and acting upon these visual signs. Whilst I seem happy to exploit those signs in others, Im sorry to say, I also fear the day when I may have to take similar drugs and experience similar body distortions myself.
More facts, figures and personal info to help contextualise my blog... This feature blogged weekly on Wednesdays/Thursdays. Hmmm lets see... As of today....
I have had no serious HIV related Illnesses. Much of the trauma of living with HIV can relate to the many infections and conditions that can crop up as a consequence of a depressed immune system. These can vary from the simplest bouts of fungal and bacterial infection (athletes foot, warts, spots...) to more complicated viral infections and cancers. Much of the more severe (indeed deadly) stuff occurs mostly when the immune system is seriously depressed. Thus it is thanks to effective drug regimes bolstering my bodily defences that I currently do not have to deal with chronic health conditions. Thankfully, I only have the odd mouth ulcer, blemish or wart to deal with......
I have had no Serious HIV drug related side effects. The drugs which maintenance my immune system are themselves very toxic and can create chronic complications to health. Many of the meds affect how the Liver and digestive system functions, whilst others can impact on blood and nerve systems. I'm pretty sure, too, that some drugs can also dull the brain synapses impacting upon powers of thought and memory. Some basic and more manageable side effects include diarrhoea and nausea. More dangerous and debilitating effects include Peripheral Neuropathy - tingling or the loss of sensation in fingers and limbs... and Lipodistophy - an abnormal re-distribution of fats around the body.. Thankfully my good diet, excercise and circulation has mean that I have had few side effects, even though I am on a quadruple (4-drug) combination therapy that is one of the most toxic. I have yet to take the drugs which cause seriously wierd dreams!
I do not I look Like I am HIV. As vain as it sounds, its fair to say that most of us with my condition worry a little about looking as if we have HIV. Much of the changes in quality of life bought about by drug regimes relate as much to real health improvements as they relate to the visual signs of good health. In the past before the medications, it was mainly, I think, that very thin wasted look and its association with AIDS that had us running scared. But with the advent of drugs, it now seems you can judge the man by his fat distribution and lipodystrophy. Unfortunately, we now live in fear of the pot-belly, hollowed cheeks and saggy arse - visual symptoms of body coping badly with distributing fat. Thankfully, much of lypodistrophy and its effects is an insider thing. Its mostly only HIV individuals (and their carers) who know about it and its symptoms. Whilst others might just see a fat stomach or a butt in need of a few sets of leg-press, the HIV individual spots a potential fellow sufferer. I have met several friends and lovers by noting and acting upon these visual signs. Whilst I seem happy to exploit those signs in others, Im sorry to say, I also fear the day when I may have to take similar drugs and experience similar body distortions myself.
Tuesday, June 17, 2003
LOST WEEKEND
Hmmm no blog entries for a few days... A mysterious Kidnapping?.. Hospital Emergency?.. Big romance?......None of the above,- Just a good O'l fashioned loved-up weekend of sun and fun in London....
What started out as a fairly cheap drink on friday turned into a bit of a pub and club fest which ran through much of my weekend.. You know how it is,.... Warm weather, being around boys, feeling free-and-single... Add to that a bit of mobile telephone message tennis, a few great friends, hastily modified plans and the wonderful resources of this fabulous city. Magic!
"Oh dear here we go..", I hear you say, "another chem fuelled queen straining to blog on the last of her weekend recreational drugs.." Sorry to disappoint. My HIV medications prevent me from taking those E's and K. My high this weekend was born by the sheer delight of feeling alive and carefree - assisted now and then by a pint of beer and, of course, the fascinating empathy of those who had taken the drugs.....
And so I draw a veil around the detail of this long weekend, other than finally remarking - and excuse my language- how absolutely-fucking-wonderful it is to be Gay.
Hmmm no blog entries for a few days... A mysterious Kidnapping?.. Hospital Emergency?.. Big romance?......None of the above,- Just a good O'l fashioned loved-up weekend of sun and fun in London....
What started out as a fairly cheap drink on friday turned into a bit of a pub and club fest which ran through much of my weekend.. You know how it is,.... Warm weather, being around boys, feeling free-and-single... Add to that a bit of mobile telephone message tennis, a few great friends, hastily modified plans and the wonderful resources of this fabulous city. Magic!
"Oh dear here we go..", I hear you say, "another chem fuelled queen straining to blog on the last of her weekend recreational drugs.." Sorry to disappoint. My HIV medications prevent me from taking those E's and K. My high this weekend was born by the sheer delight of feeling alive and carefree - assisted now and then by a pint of beer and, of course, the fascinating empathy of those who had taken the drugs.....
And so I draw a veil around the detail of this long weekend, other than finally remarking - and excuse my language- how absolutely-fucking-wonderful it is to be Gay.
Thursday, June 12, 2003
NEXT GENERATIONS..
Oh the randomness of it all!… As I sat with a coffee in Café Nero this morning, I was thinking again of those random name generators (RNGs) and amusing myself by thinking up some of my own. Here are a few of my musings, followed by the kinds of names they might throw out….
THE FEMALE HOCKEY/FOOTBALL PLAYER RNG
Random firstname of a feminist socialist historian followed by seaside town no gay guy would be seen dead visiting… Result: “Shulamyth Portslade in goal, Tanya Rhyll playing mid-field…….”
SECOND RATE DRAG/LOUNGE COMEDY ACT RNG
A random selection of anything you may have in your kitchen cupboards or fridge....Result: “Introducing the fabulous… Miss Ribena Cordial, and The legendary ..Ty fishcake ……”
HACK JOURNALIST/NEWS ANCHOR RNG
Any first name followed by a public holiday when all the news is good news. Helps if both aliterate... Result: "Sky News. On the hour with Les Laborday in the studio and Wendy Whitsun coming to you live from Bagdhad…."
Whilst looking through RNG sites on the net I also came across several SciFi and Star Trek techno babble generators.. I’ve finally found out how virologists have come up with some of their terminology for HIV!!… Surely I’m not the only one to notice that the term Reverse Transcriptase Inhibitor sounds something more to do with balancing the engine core of Voyager than it does with a virus….
This leads me finally to my last invention - THE ROCHE/GLAXO HIV DRUG RNG.
Simply take any random object or thing that happens into yr mind - For drug technicians this I think is usually fast-food, Lord of the Rings, or 70 & 80s rock band related. Randomly add to it one syllable of an up-beat word which suggests the drug might be working well (immune, intercept, banish, gone,…are popularly used..) The term might need an additional X, Y or Z if not present already, to make the whole thing sound more scientific and serious…
Some results:
Sidofrizamune, Frodocept, Pinkflloydiban, Jethrotullazine, .....
Look out for this next generation then, coming to a pharmacy near you very soon....
Oh the randomness of it all!… As I sat with a coffee in Café Nero this morning, I was thinking again of those random name generators (RNGs) and amusing myself by thinking up some of my own. Here are a few of my musings, followed by the kinds of names they might throw out….
THE FEMALE HOCKEY/FOOTBALL PLAYER RNG
Random firstname of a feminist socialist historian followed by seaside town no gay guy would be seen dead visiting… Result: “Shulamyth Portslade in goal, Tanya Rhyll playing mid-field…….”
SECOND RATE DRAG/LOUNGE COMEDY ACT RNG
A random selection of anything you may have in your kitchen cupboards or fridge....Result: “Introducing the fabulous… Miss Ribena Cordial, and The legendary ..Ty fishcake ……”
HACK JOURNALIST/NEWS ANCHOR RNG
Any first name followed by a public holiday when all the news is good news. Helps if both aliterate... Result: "Sky News. On the hour with Les Laborday in the studio and Wendy Whitsun coming to you live from Bagdhad…."
Whilst looking through RNG sites on the net I also came across several SciFi and Star Trek techno babble generators.. I’ve finally found out how virologists have come up with some of their terminology for HIV!!… Surely I’m not the only one to notice that the term Reverse Transcriptase Inhibitor sounds something more to do with balancing the engine core of Voyager than it does with a virus….
This leads me finally to my last invention - THE ROCHE/GLAXO HIV DRUG RNG.
Simply take any random object or thing that happens into yr mind - For drug technicians this I think is usually fast-food, Lord of the Rings, or 70 & 80s rock band related. Randomly add to it one syllable of an up-beat word which suggests the drug might be working well (immune, intercept, banish, gone,…are popularly used..) The term might need an additional X, Y or Z if not present already, to make the whole thing sound more scientific and serious…
Some results:
Sidofrizamune, Frodocept, Pinkflloydiban, Jethrotullazine, .....
Look out for this next generation then, coming to a pharmacy near you very soon....
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
THE STORY SO FAR...CHAPTER 3
More facts, figures and info to help contextualise my blog... This feature blogged weekly on Wednesdays. Hmmm lets see... As of today.....
I've been to see my shrink 15 times. Well, actually shes not a shrink - I think shes a 'psychiatric councillor'(?) and shes not really mine, but a shared member of the team at Cascaid. I'd discussed with my doctors and advisors many times before the possibility of seeking psychiatry as a means to deal with some psychological issues that can arise from having HIV. I was putting off a lot of issues in the past, though ("in denial" is the in term for this, I think...) and thus deferred the opportunity. It is only in the last year, on making several realisations and changes, that I have better considered and taken up psychiatric assistance.
I'm very glad I've been seeing my shrink. Like many HIV individuals who are jointly diagnosed with their partners, quite a lote of psychological damage can be caused by issues of guilt and assumptions that the other is blaming you for infecting them with HIV. (a hip term for this is 'beating yourself up'...) It was this issue, assisted by a partner who in times of his own need was happy for me to take the blame,- that was primarily wearing me down. I was wising up to this, however, and beginning to see a need to move on. So I signed up, gritted my teeth, and attended my first session. The first time was a little bit nervy, but it wasnt so bad, and it got better and easier in later sessions to talk. Thats basically what the meetings are; I chat about whats on my mind, my councillor listens and comments to encourage me to think about the consequences/inconsistencies of what I'm saying or thinking. In the process, I realise some of the negative thoughts I have about myself, and that simple act of enlightenment is usually sufficient to put me on the right track to turning those thoughts around. The meetings, so far, have been a real discovery and it is often the case that an issue exemplified in my attitudes to being HIV+ (or unintentionally giving it to someone else) turns out to be an issue which is much deeper or general.....
Ive learned quite a few things about myself since seeing my shrink. Of these, certain seem to be meatier issues that I am now dealing with and turning around big time; I often have a big fear of being judged; I am often ashamed for my feelings which leads me either apologise for them or fail to express them; I tend to procrastinate as a means of avoiding issues; and I sometimes don't love or value myself as much as should;.... I've also learned that being open and up-front about these things (- such as by admitting them in councilling or as posts on a public blog - ) can be a very useful and productive therapy in confronting these issues for the better.
I probably did infect my ex-partner with HIV But partnerships with unprotected sex are mutual decisions requiring mutual responsibility. I'm no longer going to be eaten up or beaten up by that history. Thankfully, with a little help, I've learnt, wised up, moved on......
More facts, figures and info to help contextualise my blog... This feature blogged weekly on Wednesdays. Hmmm lets see... As of today.....
I've been to see my shrink 15 times. Well, actually shes not a shrink - I think shes a 'psychiatric councillor'(?) and shes not really mine, but a shared member of the team at Cascaid. I'd discussed with my doctors and advisors many times before the possibility of seeking psychiatry as a means to deal with some psychological issues that can arise from having HIV. I was putting off a lot of issues in the past, though ("in denial" is the in term for this, I think...) and thus deferred the opportunity. It is only in the last year, on making several realisations and changes, that I have better considered and taken up psychiatric assistance.
I'm very glad I've been seeing my shrink. Like many HIV individuals who are jointly diagnosed with their partners, quite a lote of psychological damage can be caused by issues of guilt and assumptions that the other is blaming you for infecting them with HIV. (a hip term for this is 'beating yourself up'...) It was this issue, assisted by a partner who in times of his own need was happy for me to take the blame,- that was primarily wearing me down. I was wising up to this, however, and beginning to see a need to move on. So I signed up, gritted my teeth, and attended my first session. The first time was a little bit nervy, but it wasnt so bad, and it got better and easier in later sessions to talk. Thats basically what the meetings are; I chat about whats on my mind, my councillor listens and comments to encourage me to think about the consequences/inconsistencies of what I'm saying or thinking. In the process, I realise some of the negative thoughts I have about myself, and that simple act of enlightenment is usually sufficient to put me on the right track to turning those thoughts around. The meetings, so far, have been a real discovery and it is often the case that an issue exemplified in my attitudes to being HIV+ (or unintentionally giving it to someone else) turns out to be an issue which is much deeper or general.....
Ive learned quite a few things about myself since seeing my shrink. Of these, certain seem to be meatier issues that I am now dealing with and turning around big time; I often have a big fear of being judged; I am often ashamed for my feelings which leads me either apologise for them or fail to express them; I tend to procrastinate as a means of avoiding issues; and I sometimes don't love or value myself as much as should;.... I've also learned that being open and up-front about these things (- such as by admitting them in councilling or as posts on a public blog - ) can be a very useful and productive therapy in confronting these issues for the better.
I probably did infect my ex-partner with HIV But partnerships with unprotected sex are mutual decisions requiring mutual responsibility. I'm no longer going to be eaten up or beaten up by that history. Thankfully, with a little help, I've learnt, wised up, moved on......
Tuesday, June 10, 2003
NAME GAME
Following my blog on Googlism last wednesday Ive been given a few links to random name generator sites (cheers Chris). And how great they are for flights of gay fancy. I've been romancing all morning about my potential as a transvestite porn star drawn into drugs, arrested by Starsky and Hutch (OK - its a 70s retro porn fantasy of mine-) and banged to rights at Oswald State penitentiary (OZ). And whats my name? Apparently on the streets I'm known as Lydia Bounce, but once at Oz I gain a reputation as the slut bitch Nipple Nibbler ("...watch out for him in the showers..that bitch is a biter...") From here my story could go one of two ways. I could enjoy banging my plate against those bars so much that I realise a latent talent for Nyabinghi drumming and end up in a new career as the reggae star Bushdakta Banto..... Alternatively, I could find god and bible-bashing, - in which case watch out for Pastor Jerry Van Younge-Boyes coming to a football stadium near you very soon..... This story at some point will continue....
Following my blog on Googlism last wednesday Ive been given a few links to random name generator sites (cheers Chris). And how great they are for flights of gay fancy. I've been romancing all morning about my potential as a transvestite porn star drawn into drugs, arrested by Starsky and Hutch (OK - its a 70s retro porn fantasy of mine-) and banged to rights at Oswald State penitentiary (OZ). And whats my name? Apparently on the streets I'm known as Lydia Bounce, but once at Oz I gain a reputation as the slut bitch Nipple Nibbler ("...watch out for him in the showers..that bitch is a biter...") From here my story could go one of two ways. I could enjoy banging my plate against those bars so much that I realise a latent talent for Nyabinghi drumming and end up in a new career as the reggae star Bushdakta Banto..... Alternatively, I could find god and bible-bashing, - in which case watch out for Pastor Jerry Van Younge-Boyes coming to a football stadium near you very soon..... This story at some point will continue....
NEW FRIENDS
The World seems a little bit smaller, friendly and more accessible place to me after this weekend. And I feel a little bit wiser.
On Saturday I met up an American guy who I’d been chatting with from a personals site that I’d registered with a while back. I’d signed up to this site primarily to get to know POZ individuals from other countries in the hope that new friendships would breed new travelling experiences. He’d come to London for his hols and I'd arranged to meet him for coffee and maybe a museum visit together.. . This was not the first time that I had met up with guys from far flung places, but it certainly was the first that I’d met who openly knew about my HIV status and understood it to be a pretext of our desire to meet. How refreshing it was, thus, to chat for a few hours with this guy , happily drawn together by the common bond of a viral condition, and speaking of it with the best of solidarity and friendship. We exchanged blood numbers and stats, spoke of past horror stories and close shaves, generally talked of our daily dealings and feelings as we have learned to adjust to and accommodate our condition. Quite funny really, - felt almost almost like two middle aged women exchanging stories and photos about their grandchildren...... It was a very pleasant early evening and I’ve arranged to meet this new friend again later in the week to visit an exhibition at the V&A and chat some more….
It was on the tube journey home, as I thought back to my meeting, that I realized in chatting not once did either of us speak of our plight with any sense of hardness, resentment or even a sense of resignation at a presumed ‘lot‘. Such was the upbeat nature and inherent happiness of our discourse that I was surprised to acknowledge how much I’ve changed lately in dealing with my condition. I don’t know exactly at what point it happened, but it seems as if I have reckoned and come to terms with the simple fact that HIV is very much a part of who I am. And in a renewed eagerness to love myself lately, I’ve stopped hating HIV as my enemy and somehow started loving it almost as a friend.
The World seems a little bit smaller, friendly and more accessible place to me after this weekend. And I feel a little bit wiser.
On Saturday I met up an American guy who I’d been chatting with from a personals site that I’d registered with a while back. I’d signed up to this site primarily to get to know POZ individuals from other countries in the hope that new friendships would breed new travelling experiences. He’d come to London for his hols and I'd arranged to meet him for coffee and maybe a museum visit together.. . This was not the first time that I had met up with guys from far flung places, but it certainly was the first that I’d met who openly knew about my HIV status and understood it to be a pretext of our desire to meet. How refreshing it was, thus, to chat for a few hours with this guy , happily drawn together by the common bond of a viral condition, and speaking of it with the best of solidarity and friendship. We exchanged blood numbers and stats, spoke of past horror stories and close shaves, generally talked of our daily dealings and feelings as we have learned to adjust to and accommodate our condition. Quite funny really, - felt almost almost like two middle aged women exchanging stories and photos about their grandchildren...... It was a very pleasant early evening and I’ve arranged to meet this new friend again later in the week to visit an exhibition at the V&A and chat some more….
It was on the tube journey home, as I thought back to my meeting, that I realized in chatting not once did either of us speak of our plight with any sense of hardness, resentment or even a sense of resignation at a presumed ‘lot‘. Such was the upbeat nature and inherent happiness of our discourse that I was surprised to acknowledge how much I’ve changed lately in dealing with my condition. I don’t know exactly at what point it happened, but it seems as if I have reckoned and come to terms with the simple fact that HIV is very much a part of who I am. And in a renewed eagerness to love myself lately, I’ve stopped hating HIV as my enemy and somehow started loving it almost as a friend.
Saturday, June 07, 2003
GOOGLISM
Ive just been playing with Googlism for the last half-hour.. (sorry I'm so naive.com - you probably knew about Googlism 5 years ago...) What a hoot! You enter a name or a word or a place and the programme gives a list of characteristics based on info it has randomly trawled from the net. I typed in my full name.... Apparently I am "a call to utilize the inherent power of our consciousness in healing the earth and all its ills..."
Ive just been playing with Googlism for the last half-hour.. (sorry I'm so naive.com - you probably knew about Googlism 5 years ago...) What a hoot! You enter a name or a word or a place and the programme gives a list of characteristics based on info it has randomly trawled from the net. I typed in my full name.... Apparently I am "a call to utilize the inherent power of our consciousness in healing the earth and all its ills..."
Friday, June 06, 2003
OH HAPPY FORTUNE....
A strange and very furtunate day!. First I wake to receive in the post a thank you card & gift voucher for a bottle of wine. OK, the card is from Sainsbury's Supermarkets and I'd say about 1 in 50 have recieved similar this morning, but a free £6 bottle of wine is not to be sniffed at! I head off to the High street to redeem it and get my provisions. Once there I stop at my local ATM where I'm about to withdraw my weekend 'allowance'. The man in front of me using the machine proceeds to run off in a flustered state - assuming the machine will not pay out for him. It does however, and he leaves his withdrawn money behind. I shout myself hoarse to attract his attention - good citizen that I am. He comes back, rather embarrased, and I take the opportunity to very quickly clock that he'd withdrawn £200 and suggest that he gives me a tenner for my troubles... He does. (Shit! - I should have asked for twenty!...) I head to Sainsbury's already flushed with fortune and do my weekend shop. Carted up and in a further fit of benevolence, I join the checkout queue of the rather dumpy and out of uniform checkout girl that most, for some reason seem to be avoiding..... It turns out Bonita (her name was felt-tipped to a makeshift badge) usually works in the back as an unpacker and had been asked to man a till because of a staffing shortage. Low and behold, she procedes (god bless her) to run my gift voucher over the infra-red twice, thinking it counts for every and not just one wine bottle in my shopping. This time the good citizen says nothing....
I've somehow managed to come back from my weekend shopping trip loaded with goodies and without spending a penny of my own money!
A strange and very furtunate day!. First I wake to receive in the post a thank you card & gift voucher for a bottle of wine. OK, the card is from Sainsbury's Supermarkets and I'd say about 1 in 50 have recieved similar this morning, but a free £6 bottle of wine is not to be sniffed at! I head off to the High street to redeem it and get my provisions. Once there I stop at my local ATM where I'm about to withdraw my weekend 'allowance'. The man in front of me using the machine proceeds to run off in a flustered state - assuming the machine will not pay out for him. It does however, and he leaves his withdrawn money behind. I shout myself hoarse to attract his attention - good citizen that I am. He comes back, rather embarrased, and I take the opportunity to very quickly clock that he'd withdrawn £200 and suggest that he gives me a tenner for my troubles... He does. (Shit! - I should have asked for twenty!...) I head to Sainsbury's already flushed with fortune and do my weekend shop. Carted up and in a further fit of benevolence, I join the checkout queue of the rather dumpy and out of uniform checkout girl that most, for some reason seem to be avoiding..... It turns out Bonita (her name was felt-tipped to a makeshift badge) usually works in the back as an unpacker and had been asked to man a till because of a staffing shortage. Low and behold, she procedes (god bless her) to run my gift voucher over the infra-red twice, thinking it counts for every and not just one wine bottle in my shopping. This time the good citizen says nothing....
I've somehow managed to come back from my weekend shopping trip loaded with goodies and without spending a penny of my own money!
Thursday, June 05, 2003
A PIECE OF PIE ANYONE...?
I'm just finished cooking Cumberland Pie for 5 of my mates who are coming over tonite. Hmmm...Pie, fruit flan and Beer..very Northern England. But I'm now wondering whether another side effect of my medications is an inability to judge ingredients per capita. Its turned out to be a pie actually the size of Cumberland ...
.....I know, I'll auction leftover portions on E-Bay, - that should help my dodgy financial situation.....
I'm just finished cooking Cumberland Pie for 5 of my mates who are coming over tonite. Hmmm...Pie, fruit flan and Beer..very Northern England. But I'm now wondering whether another side effect of my medications is an inability to judge ingredients per capita. Its turned out to be a pie actually the size of Cumberland ...
.....I know, I'll auction leftover portions on E-Bay, - that should help my dodgy financial situation.....
HREF= "MAKEOVER REPORT..." /A
Hmmm the blog isn't looking too bad already! Sorry to blow my own trumpet, but I'm pretty impressed at the way I've taken to HTML a week after opting to learn it. OK, design-wise the thing is still looking a little corporate (- maybe Ive seen the color scheme elsewhere) But colour is as easily changeable as my moods, so lets just just liken the current hue to a proverbial tester pot. Just look at those links, buttons and other blog baubels, though. I'm amazed at what you can do with a hyperlink here and a code cut-and-paste there...
Hmmm the blog isn't looking too bad already! Sorry to blow my own trumpet, but I'm pretty impressed at the way I've taken to HTML a week after opting to learn it. OK, design-wise the thing is still looking a little corporate (- maybe Ive seen the color scheme elsewhere) But colour is as easily changeable as my moods, so lets just just liken the current hue to a proverbial tester pot. Just look at those links, buttons and other blog baubels, though. I'm amazed at what you can do with a hyperlink here and a code cut-and-paste there...
THE STORY SO FAR...CHAPTER 2
Some facts, figures and info to help contextualise my blog... This feature blogged weekly on Wednesdays (...erm..sorry I'm late..!). As of today:
* I am single and very happily so. My last partnership, with M, ended 3 years ago after an innings of 7 years. Since then I've been single, - rediscovering myself and my sexuality. For the past year there has been a 'significant other' - the lovely A - who I've grown very fond of. My relationship with A is a very open one though, and as much as I think he would like us to become 'a little more serious', He is very understanding of my reasons to remain single. There is a lot that I want and need to explore and being too tied down would, I think, compromise the new independence and lust for life that I have lately found. A is HIV- and is fully aware of my HIV status. I told him on our second 'date'...
* I am financially dependent upon State benefits. I gave up full-time work about 3 years ago, mainly so that I could take a breather, de-stress and get my act together. (I used to work a 60 hour week and when immuno-compromised that takes it out of you) Since then I have been working freelance and on a part-time basis, with my earnings (I work in education) supplemented by state benefits for disability, housing and, on occasion, low earnings. In a 'bad period' - if i am not working and totally dependent upon benefits, my weekly income could be as as low as £150. I do intend to return to work of a more full-time nature in the very near future. If anything, its a matter of finding an appropriate job to my skills, interests and medical situation.. One of the reasons I used to work 60 hours a week was simply because work allowed me deal with my HIV status by ignoring it. Thats NOT a good strategy - and one of the results of taking a couple of years out has been a more balanced and positive acceptance of my situation. I have been learning, for the better, to take my HIV bull by the horns.
* I am sharing a flat with my ex- partner. M and I started living together a year into our relationship, when by chance we were offered a council appartment and a joint tenancy. About 3 months after moving in together we both tested HIV+. This diagnosis bought a range of tensions and compromises into our relationship and I am of the opinion that the partnership endured beyond its natural shelf life because of the feelings of insecurity and obligation that the joint diagnosis brought with it. For my part, I dont think I would have been coupled with M for so long had it not been for our positive status. It took me a long time to realise and admit this, and it came as a process of questioning why things, ultimately, were not working between us. We finally agreed irreconcilable differences after our 6 or so years. Stuck with a joint tenancy and equal claim, however, we realised that the only way we could live according to our means and with a parity of rights, was by continuing to live together, as friends, in the same appartment. This has worked reasonably well, under the circumstances. Over time, however, as we both live and come to terms differently with our HIV, conflicting agendas and lifestyles have increasingly necessitated separate accomodation. Apart from housework issues, M's main gripe is that he cannot comfortably and with full privacy entertain a new boyfriend. If truth be told, right now, my main gripe is that I cannot comfortably host an orgy....
Some facts, figures and info to help contextualise my blog... This feature blogged weekly on Wednesdays (...erm..sorry I'm late..!). As of today:
* I am single and very happily so. My last partnership, with M, ended 3 years ago after an innings of 7 years. Since then I've been single, - rediscovering myself and my sexuality. For the past year there has been a 'significant other' - the lovely A - who I've grown very fond of. My relationship with A is a very open one though, and as much as I think he would like us to become 'a little more serious', He is very understanding of my reasons to remain single. There is a lot that I want and need to explore and being too tied down would, I think, compromise the new independence and lust for life that I have lately found. A is HIV- and is fully aware of my HIV status. I told him on our second 'date'...
* I am financially dependent upon State benefits. I gave up full-time work about 3 years ago, mainly so that I could take a breather, de-stress and get my act together. (I used to work a 60 hour week and when immuno-compromised that takes it out of you) Since then I have been working freelance and on a part-time basis, with my earnings (I work in education) supplemented by state benefits for disability, housing and, on occasion, low earnings. In a 'bad period' - if i am not working and totally dependent upon benefits, my weekly income could be as as low as £150. I do intend to return to work of a more full-time nature in the very near future. If anything, its a matter of finding an appropriate job to my skills, interests and medical situation.. One of the reasons I used to work 60 hours a week was simply because work allowed me deal with my HIV status by ignoring it. Thats NOT a good strategy - and one of the results of taking a couple of years out has been a more balanced and positive acceptance of my situation. I have been learning, for the better, to take my HIV bull by the horns.
* I am sharing a flat with my ex- partner. M and I started living together a year into our relationship, when by chance we were offered a council appartment and a joint tenancy. About 3 months after moving in together we both tested HIV+. This diagnosis bought a range of tensions and compromises into our relationship and I am of the opinion that the partnership endured beyond its natural shelf life because of the feelings of insecurity and obligation that the joint diagnosis brought with it. For my part, I dont think I would have been coupled with M for so long had it not been for our positive status. It took me a long time to realise and admit this, and it came as a process of questioning why things, ultimately, were not working between us. We finally agreed irreconcilable differences after our 6 or so years. Stuck with a joint tenancy and equal claim, however, we realised that the only way we could live according to our means and with a parity of rights, was by continuing to live together, as friends, in the same appartment. This has worked reasonably well, under the circumstances. Over time, however, as we both live and come to terms differently with our HIV, conflicting agendas and lifestyles have increasingly necessitated separate accomodation. Apart from housework issues, M's main gripe is that he cannot comfortably and with full privacy entertain a new boyfriend. If truth be told, right now, my main gripe is that I cannot comfortably host an orgy....
Wednesday, June 04, 2003
BALANCING ACT
Under 35-year olds might not remember the game Tip-It. If any of you do, I feel today decidedly like that that little fella poised on his nose at the end of his stick and subject to the whims of a triad of weighty forces as he tries to keep himsself aloft. Yellow rings today come courtesy of Social Services - circumstances have have been mis-plying their weights over the past few weeks with forms to fill in and today I recieve notice of an up-coming visit to assess my health and needs; bummer!. Blue is housing and home life. I find this morning that M should be re-housed within in the next twelve months. Thats wholly calming news in the long term, but today's interim discussions over how to divide ten years of accumulated things is bound from now on to create a little turbulence. Color three (always it seems using red) is my finances - frankly I'm broke and my purse does not seem to be able to counter the tactical positioning of the other two... So watch me spin and whirl....
Under 35-year olds might not remember the game Tip-It. If any of you do, I feel today decidedly like that that little fella poised on his nose at the end of his stick and subject to the whims of a triad of weighty forces as he tries to keep himsself aloft. Yellow rings today come courtesy of Social Services - circumstances have have been mis-plying their weights over the past few weeks with forms to fill in and today I recieve notice of an up-coming visit to assess my health and needs; bummer!. Blue is housing and home life. I find this morning that M should be re-housed within in the next twelve months. Thats wholly calming news in the long term, but today's interim discussions over how to divide ten years of accumulated things is bound from now on to create a little turbulence. Color three (always it seems using red) is my finances - frankly I'm broke and my purse does not seem to be able to counter the tactical positioning of the other two... So watch me spin and whirl....
Tuesday, June 03, 2003
NECROSIS NEUROSIS
Don't you just hate the term 'necrosis'? Mind you, the word 'receding' isn't that great either when your'e in your mid...erm.. ok, late, thirties! Both smack of decrepitude, and when they might be happening in yr mouth, that other term 'kiss of death' seems all too real.
You may have gathered that I've spent this morning at the dentist. And I have one or two problems with my gnashers. These problems have arisen from a number of factors, the main one relating to my fear of dentistry. Add to that 20-odd years of smoking and a craving for rowntrees fruit gums and it figures there were going to be some reasonably heavy issues happening in my mouth. Throw HIV into the equation too, however, and we're talking a potential for serious germ warfare - so send in the troops!
Thankfully I saw the light just over a year ago when (in my drive to take fuller advantage of continuing clean teeth and breath from non-smoking) I enlisted the assistance of special care dentistry. And they have been great! With a few extra pushes from my doctor on my needs as a nervous patient, I was offered a season of free trips to a sedation unit under the care of the wonderful Sadie. And oh what lovely trips they have been! - Numbed and high from Nitrous Oxide, a morning in 'Sadie's Chair' has become a bit of a hippy dippy treat for me....
..But not so this morning!.. Only a short visit to the hygienist today, so no gas, and a little bit of a dressing down on my failure to floss. But I return wiser,- armed with a few tips on better brushing, a small pack of interdental brushes and a pat on the back for having faced my fears and endured a short scrape and clean without the knockout-drops. I'm getting there. OK they're not the best set of teeth in the world and whilst the odd bit of gum recession (OK I'll say it - the odd bit of necrosis...) might be a minor setback, I am reminded that I have a winning smile non the less. I just need a little more ruthlessness on the oral hygeine front to ensure that I keep it.
More later....I'm off to do a bit of flossing......
Don't you just hate the term 'necrosis'? Mind you, the word 'receding' isn't that great either when your'e in your mid...erm.. ok, late, thirties! Both smack of decrepitude, and when they might be happening in yr mouth, that other term 'kiss of death' seems all too real.
You may have gathered that I've spent this morning at the dentist. And I have one or two problems with my gnashers. These problems have arisen from a number of factors, the main one relating to my fear of dentistry. Add to that 20-odd years of smoking and a craving for rowntrees fruit gums and it figures there were going to be some reasonably heavy issues happening in my mouth. Throw HIV into the equation too, however, and we're talking a potential for serious germ warfare - so send in the troops!
Thankfully I saw the light just over a year ago when (in my drive to take fuller advantage of continuing clean teeth and breath from non-smoking) I enlisted the assistance of special care dentistry. And they have been great! With a few extra pushes from my doctor on my needs as a nervous patient, I was offered a season of free trips to a sedation unit under the care of the wonderful Sadie. And oh what lovely trips they have been! - Numbed and high from Nitrous Oxide, a morning in 'Sadie's Chair' has become a bit of a hippy dippy treat for me....
..But not so this morning!.. Only a short visit to the hygienist today, so no gas, and a little bit of a dressing down on my failure to floss. But I return wiser,- armed with a few tips on better brushing, a small pack of interdental brushes and a pat on the back for having faced my fears and endured a short scrape and clean without the knockout-drops. I'm getting there. OK they're not the best set of teeth in the world and whilst the odd bit of gum recession (OK I'll say it - the odd bit of necrosis...) might be a minor setback, I am reminded that I have a winning smile non the less. I just need a little more ruthlessness on the oral hygeine front to ensure that I keep it.
More later....I'm off to do a bit of flossing......
Monday, June 02, 2003
ADD TO MY FRIENDS / REMOVE FROM FAVOURITES
....These are the names of two buttons I can press on a Gaydar profile to organise and file it away in my records. Gaydar is an internet dating (/shagging) site. Each member has a profile page - and by the click of a button I can chat, delete, ignore, sort by type, criticise the dress sense of,...and hopefully meet.. some of the nicer guys each profile aims to represent. Add to friends (list) button does exactly that. Remove from favourites button takes the profile off another list (favourites, but presumably not friends yet) so that you can either add them to your friends or delete them from yr administrative system (- Don't worry - once pressed, the 'Remove' button becomes an 'Add' button so you can put them back on again.....) I've been avidly clicking away at these two buttons this morning in the hope of putting some order to my site and also to rub my ego a little bit. Ive been mostly removing people from favourites and adding them to Friends. Whilst doing so I've been clicking another little button which adds a blue circle 'tag' beside their names. The tag allows you to keep track of profiles according to yr own reason.. In my filing system the blue circle tag stands for "I've met and shagged them!"... Kind of ironic really, given that something with a little blue circle label attached to it (as in Debenhams and C&A) usually means 'now a sale item'!
In the process of this administration, which I do at a whim every now and then, I find it remarkable how the virtual community of Gaydar moves on as measured by profile changes. It can be quite a scopic and addictive site sometimes, almost like observing a reality TV programme with which I am curiously interacting. And it figures, for the sake of engendering my own form of virtual support network, I like to chart profiles of individuals openly HIV+. Some profiles changes I've notice today suggest members have found love ("sorry guys - Ive found my man..") whilst some have found other things ("Cheers www.rubberman3 - now heavily into bondage and chem sex..."). And just by changes in photographs and text you can track makeovers, changes in gay fashion, and fluctuations in health and circumstance. Some days I just click and wonder at the rise and fall of these lovely personalities as they find their self confidence and live their positive lives! I virtually love them all.
....These are the names of two buttons I can press on a Gaydar profile to organise and file it away in my records. Gaydar is an internet dating (/shagging) site. Each member has a profile page - and by the click of a button I can chat, delete, ignore, sort by type, criticise the dress sense of,...and hopefully meet.. some of the nicer guys each profile aims to represent. Add to friends (list) button does exactly that. Remove from favourites button takes the profile off another list (favourites, but presumably not friends yet) so that you can either add them to your friends or delete them from yr administrative system (- Don't worry - once pressed, the 'Remove' button becomes an 'Add' button so you can put them back on again.....) I've been avidly clicking away at these two buttons this morning in the hope of putting some order to my site and also to rub my ego a little bit. Ive been mostly removing people from favourites and adding them to Friends. Whilst doing so I've been clicking another little button which adds a blue circle 'tag' beside their names. The tag allows you to keep track of profiles according to yr own reason.. In my filing system the blue circle tag stands for "I've met and shagged them!"... Kind of ironic really, given that something with a little blue circle label attached to it (as in Debenhams and C&A) usually means 'now a sale item'!
In the process of this administration, which I do at a whim every now and then, I find it remarkable how the virtual community of Gaydar moves on as measured by profile changes. It can be quite a scopic and addictive site sometimes, almost like observing a reality TV programme with which I am curiously interacting. And it figures, for the sake of engendering my own form of virtual support network, I like to chart profiles of individuals openly HIV+. Some profiles changes I've notice today suggest members have found love ("sorry guys - Ive found my man..") whilst some have found other things ("Cheers www.rubberman3 - now heavily into bondage and chem sex..."). And just by changes in photographs and text you can track makeovers, changes in gay fashion, and fluctuations in health and circumstance. Some days I just click and wonder at the rise and fall of these lovely personalities as they find their self confidence and live their positive lives! I virtually love them all.
Sunday, June 01, 2003
TO BB OR NOT TO BB...
OK a cheesy heading I know. And no I'm not talking about whether or not to stay in and watch the fourth season of Big Brother. For those not in the know, BB stands for Bare-Backing - sex without condoms. Whilst I would never consider having BB sex with someone else who was not HIV+, I have often been forced to contemplate the pros and cons of doing so with somebody who is positive and happy to engage in it. The main 'Against' side of the equation points to the potential for cross-infection with new or different strains of HIV+ and other sexually transmitted diseases. Whilst the research to me seems inconclusive, I could, by having BB sex, end up with a form of HIV that is already resistant to the drugs I take. That and other infections could seriously compromise my health. The main 'For' side of the argument points to the sheer pleasure of flesh on flesh and not having the clinical hassle of condoms... Our health is compromised already (another argument goes) so why worry too much about compromising it further..? Whilst these reasons are powerful enough, the clincher, relates to issues of empowerment. Consensual BB sex between two HIV+ fellahs is a pleasure that HIV negative guys cannot have without the worries of primary infection. Thus BB sex is the one thing that POZ individuals can claim for their own. The very act that symbolises our predicament is appropriated by us to positively symbolise, through sexual pleasure - our difference and power. As feminists have burnt their Bras, so positive gay men consider throwing away their condoms.....
The subject is on my mind today because I have just had a fantastic evening of consensual BB sex with a gorgeous and very sexy Belgian man. Whilst I basque in the reveries of openly and happily declaring my status to him, finding out that he was HIV+ too and then proceeding to seduce and bed him without condoms, I still feel a high level of guilt at having done something a little naughty...
As much as the French and Belgians are often slated here in Britain, there is something very seductive about the way they wield and pronounce the phrase "je suis seropositif"....
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