Paris

I have wanted to see Paris since I was a child and the time was right after I got my disability. Things just fell into place kinda at the last moment. I found a good flight and nice hotel and booked it. The packages were much more expensive, so I researched like crazy.

I went alone. Some people were surprised and some people thought me brave. Thing is, I don't know anyone else here that has had this dream as I have. So, who could I go with?

The hotel was charming, only 33 rooms the brochure says. I was on the 4th floor overlooking the one-way street. Across me was another olde building with a shield of arms saying 1847! It was some kind of business and I could see people working across the street periodically.

Well, Paris is Paris. Words cannot describe it as anyone lucky enough to have been there knows. I was breathless, speechless, full of awe, amazed. It was phenomenal, fantastic. I want to go back.

I was only there only for six nights. Had I more money, I would have stayed longer of course. There's always next time. I was in Marais near La Place de la Republique on a charming little rue hidden by some arches in a business district.

I bought a Metro Pass for the week although I used the Metro twice. A, I got lost somewhat, B, it's exhausting with a bum knee and a cane walking up and down those stairs and it got very hot down there, and C. I didn't get to see Paris firsthand. The pass was good for the bus also, so I bused around.

I did not come across the mythological rude Parisian. Au contraire, a woman actually offered me her seat on the metro! All the people I came across were very nice and forthcoming.

I wound up walking over most of the place. I found an energy I had not had in ages and I was the Energizer Bunny, I just kept going and going. When I'd get tired, I'd buy a beverage and catch my breath at one of the many beautifully landscaped parks while I read up on my Paris books and wrote in my travel journal. What a cliché!

Every street was an adventure and every building a treasure. I have always been one for architecture and Paris is an architectural paradise.

I walked down la rue Sebastopol and saw the steeples of Notre Dame looming in the distance urging me on. It's a huge building of course, but I thought it small for Hugo's characters. I bought a panini and small bottle of wine and enjoyed it in a small parc in back of Notre Dame recommended by a fabulous friend, Greg.

I got on a BatoBus (Boat taxi) and glided through history. Le Louvre on my right, followed by L'Arch de Triomphe and around the bend on the left, Le Tour Eiffel peaked out from the top of some buildings and slowly appeared in front of me.

My mouth was on the floor. I walked under it and just looked up. Amazing. I did not go up because the queues were just too long and I wanted to do some much in so little time.

La Conciergerie in front of Notre Dame where Marie Antoinette spent the last few months of her life. Tragic. And then to see La Place de La Concorde by Le Louvre where she was taken in that two wheeled cart shackled like a beast in humiliation to her death. It brought a tear to my eye.

Pere Lachaise, the famous cemetery, city of the dead within the famed City of Light. I meandered through the rues looking for the famous and infamous. I spent three hours looking and pondering and thinking of the inevitable.

Sacre Coeur, I did not get to go. I saw it from a tour bus. They have a great tour bus that you can hop on four different tours that highlight four parts of the city. This was Montmartre where Le Moulin Rouge is located.

The foods were great. Duh! The aromas wafted throughout the rues and boulevards inviting one to sample the succulent dishes of other countries. I did not have French food though! I had Indian, Turkish, Cuban, and Italian food. I did have my morning espresso with un baguette and un croissant though.

All my senses were invigorated and I saw, touched, smelled, tasted, and felt Paris. My mind's eye was awakened and words flew out onto my journal. I read it now and I am back somewhere in Paris.

I had no problems with communication. I spoke French and Spanish mostly while there.

Get this. It's almost like I never even went. I bought a digital camera and I took five pictures and then the thing didn't work! I had the instruction booklet and that didn't help. I wound up buying a disposable camera at the last moment. But there are no photos of me in Paris.

And then when I got home and was putting stuff away, I saw my passport was not stamped! I was gypped! I HAVE to return if not just to get the thing stamped.

It was well worth the effort. Dreams are fabulous when they come true. I still walk around and see Paris. My new happy place is Paris.

Salt in the wound

Boy, when it rains it pours. As you know I am on HOPWA and part of the programme is a periodic home visit and assessment. The home visit went okay of course. But the assessment did not. They look at my monthly expenses and it looks like I am making or saving a lot of money. So it looks like I might be taken off HOPWA, the bright side is I can apply next year.

I was catatonic all day yesterday after that appointment. The one ray of hope was that I was scheduled to see my analyst today. There is something comforting about being in that womb of a room taking to someone about my feelings.

I was literally getting ready to walk out the door right now when the phone rang. It was the clinic calling to say that my doctor had called in for the day! Looks like another day of catatonia. What’s a girl to do?

I have had no energy or desire to do anything the past few days. I have a great book to read and DVDs to watch but nothing interests me right now. I have just been listening to that Parisian jazz station I recommended. So guess what I’ll be doing today.

Depression

What can I say about depression that you haven’t heard? I bet you didn’t know that I am depressed. I was depressed way before the HIV, as a matter of fact; I look at childhood photos and do not see a happy child. I distinctly remember not feeling well at the age of six although there is a photo of me at 2 1/2 that shows me with a scowl on my face.

I cried a lot for no reason and guess what, I still do. That’s why I’m in therapy and take psych meds. And they do work for the most part, but sometimes the switch is turned on and I get in a fetal position and don’t get out of bed. I like to say I’m on the roller coaster and then it drops and stays down for a while.

I feel like I’ve lied to friends and family because I only show the up me, having fun, joking around, and laughing, a lot of laughter. What you don’t know is that inside I’m a second from a crying session. Sometimes I see something or someone says something that sets off the trigger.

It takes so much energy out of me. There are days on end where I will not leave my apartment which is why I watch so many films as an escape. I put in a DVD and for those two hours, I don’t think about anything but the film. I also read a lot and I’m a character somewhere else where the world is okay.

Strange thing is, I haven’t reacted to my diagnosis. I’ve been positive for five years now and it seems like someone made a mistake somewhere. But my labs tell me the truth. As anybody who knows me knows that I always put myself in second place. I’ll worry about you and your medical problems and visit you in the hospital, but I will not allow anyone to reciprocate.

I started getting in a funky mood last night for some reason. I forced myself to clean house today but the mood was still there. And I had to go out and see people today. It took a lot to get me to go. Mess called to check up on me and he kinda nudged me into going out today. He’s a real sweetheart like I mentioned earlier.

We went to our Sunday support group and I made with the idle chit chat and banter, but I just wanted to scream and leave. I kept looking at the clock and never saw it move so slow in my life.

But I made it okay and I’m home in the safety net that is my four walls. Now to get rid of my mood.

Grey Gardens

Just saw Grey Gardens again. This is the doc that spawned a Broadway musical and an HBO film. Focusing on Jackie Kennedy Onassis's eccentric aunt and cousin, this shows them in a dysfunctional co-dependent relationship.

Their once fabulous mansion has fallen into disrepair and they live in squalor along with cats, raccoons, and opossums. And they're quite content with their living conditions. Highly recommended to see this first before the HBO film where Barrymore brings new life to Little Edie.

A Hard Pill to Swallow

It’s Saturday. I sometimes dread Saturdays only because I have to sort my pills for the coming week. It doesn’t sound like a big to-do, but it is a bother and I guess it makes me look at my mortality.

I know we all must die, comes with the package, but it seems like I was destined for something greater and I never accomplished it. Being bi-polar makes me want to stop taking them and wither away. The other side keeps on going like the Energizer Bunny and goes through my everyday routines. I like that independence because it makes me feel like I am still a part of life.

I just counted and I take a total of 13 pills for one reason or other. Most are actually psych meds, only one is for HIV. Some of these pills are taken twice a day and one I have to swallow four. Sometimes I feel like a human maraca.

And so the Bunny goes on…

Pet Peeve

Why is it that in the seventh largest city in the USA, with over 60% Latino, Hispanic, Spanish-speaking people, we do not have a first run Spanish language theatre? I remember we used to have the Nacional, the Guadalupe, and the Alameda that used to play Spanish language films. Now we have nada.

Fact is there are so many quality and diverse films coming out of Mexico, Argentina, Spain, and other countries where Spanish is the official language. I feel we are being ignored here.

The only one capable of showing films is the Alameda. It is such a beautiful theatre decorated with unique tile and is a showcase in its own right. Every now and then someone turns on the marquee and it is as if it is asking to be resuscitated. It is sad to see some of the letters not working. The inside décor is exquisite and along the same quality as the Majestic or the Aztec.

For more photos, click here : http://images.search.yahoo.com/search/images?_adv_prop=image&ni=20&va=alameda+theater+san+antonio&fr=slv8-&xargs=0&pstart=1&b=1


I think the Conservation Society or City Council or somebody with brains should do something about this injustice.

Mis dos centavos…

Lazy Days

Thank goodness for disability is all I have to say sometimes. I'm still in recuperation mode from the campout. My metabolism was out of whack for an entire weekend and I'm still getting used to life back home.

Rain in San Antonio? What a rare treat. Perfect weather for staying home and be a couch potato. I needed items from the store but there's no way Chiflado's going out in the rain. He might melt!

I'm just gonna spend the day watching DVDs including one with one of my favourite Argentinian actors Leonardro Sbaraglia. Not only is he a good actor but he's hot as well. I'd hit him! I also have a Star Trek DVD, I never saw the original series but as some of you know I'm a major fan of The Next Generation, so thanks to the library I'm getting to catch up on the series.

My POZ Posse

My posse consists of two of the greatest friends I've come across in decades. They are Hush Puppy (HP) and White Chocolate Mess (Mess) and he's quite the mess!

I met HP in January and there was an instant spark that just ignited into a wonderful friendship. My day is not complete without a daily call to check up on each other. He had a dark cloud around him for a few months but everything's falling into place lately and I wish him nothing but the best. He's the one that speaks bovine and asked a cow for directions to the campout.

Mess is a Noo Yawker with a heart of gold. I met him in February and we hit it off almost immediately. He has a fascinating blog, just check my links for White Chocolate Mess, and you'll get an insight into him.

There appears to be another member lurking in the shadows and he's as crazy as the three of us. We don't have a nickname for him yet, but for now it's just Ringo, making us the Fab Four.

We all have the same wicked, sardonic sense of humour and wit. We usually sit together at our support group and just have a conversation by ourselves.

Before I forget, at the campout HP concocted a beverage that is now forever known as the Hush Puppy and that's just about all we drank while we were up there. Ringo didn't make it, he's too shy. Those vultures would have flocked all over him for sure.

Later...

I'm b-a-a-c-k!

All I can say is what happens at the campout stays at the campout! Oh the sights Chiflado saw. The weather was fabulous although we still had humidity. I think Texas must mean humidity somewhere. Again, we were out in the middle of nowhere, we stopped and asked a cow for directions.

I will say that Chiflado did karaoke. He got up on stage, and being the true lounge act that he is, he sang Fly Me to The Moon. Classy. One of my POZ posse also got up and sang a song I'd never heard and he did it quite well. Our other comarade did not participate but was disappointed in himself afterward.

But we had fun which was the goal. We did not think about HIV. We did go to a few cocktail parties and even invented a drink in honour of one of my posse. And we met men who were as zany as us if not more.

More later...

Mario Lopez

I have no comment. Just have a great weekend, Chiflado will!

PWA Campout

Chiflado and company will be at one with nature this weekend. Twice a year the Texas Conference of Clubs throws a camp-out for PWAs (People with AIDS) and their supporters.

It will be a nice weekend of fellowship, support, and a break from the routine of our daily worries. We will be out there in the boonies pitching a tent but we will have the comforts of home, i.e. showers, electricity, and daily meals. And there's always some interesting tales to tell afterward.

No more cawfee!!!

What do you call a cow that's had an abortion? De-calf-inated! And so has Chiflado.

After all my tummy trouble, I finally decided to give up cawfee. My blood pressure is high and both my doctor and nutritionist have advised giving it up.

Well, I'm the Master of my own Domain and I had my last cup last Wednesday, I had to finish the can, and now I'm getting withdrawl headaches that my nutritionist said should disappear in a few days. I still have my cherished mug I bought in Paris on the shelf. There's always herbal tea.

But I will miss the aroma as it filled my apartment. The taste of real black gold. The warmth of my mug. The taste made possible only by Juan Valdez! I clearly remember Mother putting some cawfee in my bottle and saying to drink it and go to sleep...and I did.

Cawfee...what a void.

Housing

Ah yes, the question of housing. Some of us live at home with relatives, I even tried living with two other HIV+ friends, but I prefer my privacy.

I have a fabulous apartment in downtown SA and it's very close to my doctor's office and all the major bus routes. A local AIDS agency is helping me with rent via their HOPWA (Housing Opportunities for People With AIDS) program. I filled out some paperwork and have regular inspections and I have periodic reviews.

Their main goal is for us on the HOPWA program to eventually go into public housing. And Chiflado has been on the list for four years. It is very important for us to be as independent as possible and having my own apartment is a godsend. No this is not my apartment but something I found on-line just as a reference.

Longtime Companion

This is my latest longtime companion, and my last! This is what an HIV cell looks like. This is actually the life cycle of HIV as it enters a healthy cell, replicates, and goes off in search of more damage. They do look kinda cute but we know bettter.

Moral of the story, play safe, get tested, be in a serious monogamous relationship unlike mine.

I guess the good thing I can say is the medications, or cocktails available to us nowadays are better. I hear horror stories about the early AIDS days where patients had to take a slew of pills and the side effects were many. Today there are meds that can be taken once a day, they are expensive but if you're lucky, you can get assistance with co-pays.

I am currently on a cocktail of one pill, Atripla. It is a combination of two meds in one pill and my t-cells have been slowly climbing. I am also taking a powerful anti-biotic that I hope to stop taking after I hit 200 t-cells. It's only a matter of time.

Viral Load

Another important number other than t-cell or CD4 count, is the viral load. Simply put, the viral load is the number of copies of the virus in your blood. The viral load is part of one's quarterly labwork. Initially I had 144,000 copies in my blood. At the time I was ignorant about all these numbers, but after a while we get to understand our labs.

Along with other tests, the HIV viral load test helps monitor your disease, guide HIV therapy, and predict how your disease may progress. Keeping your viral load low can reduce complications of HIV disease and extend your life. The thing to remember is to have a high t-cell count and a low viral load.

After five years in highly active antiretroviral therapy, or HAART, my latest CD4 count is 146 and my viral load is under 50 or undetectable. So apparently my therapy is working. Since I was diagnosed with the 3 initial t-cells, my progress has been slowly climbing.

A New Chapter

So I was back in San Antonio and staying with relatives until I got situated. I had to find a job, or so I thought, and I needed to find an infectious diseases doctor and see what assistance was out there for POZ people.

The doctor situation was no problem because the social worker had given me information on my medical options. I got that out of the way quickly and have been in treatment ever since.

I wanted a job because I felt I could hold down a job. The AIDS diagnosis was not a death warrent like I said, but I had to see what I was capable of. I did find a job, but only lasted about four months before I got sick and could not concentrate on my responsibilities.

What I should have done with my AIDS diagnosic, t-cell count, and oportunistic infection was to file for disability. They turned me down three times before I finally got a lawyer and got disability. I finally had a steady income that I could budget for the month.

I started visiting the AIDS agencies and getting information. I got a case manager that has been a godsend, he's a plethora of knowledge and keeps track of me. I was also able to get food stamps, while not much, every little bit helps. I'm also on public transportation and another agency gives me a monthly bus pass.

More later...

Leaving

I knew I had to leave but the question was when. And I gave the relationship every chance. I even left out a brochure on couples counseling, but he said everything was okay with us.

I started mailing home things to lighten my eventual load. I donated to the Goodwill. I knew I had to leave on a payday so I would have funds for my trip.

The perfect time presented itself when he went to dinner with his brothers and I packed my car. Of course he didn't notice anything was amiss when he came home. We talked and went to bed like any other night.

I woke early, showered, and cleaned the bathroom. By the time I heard him stirring I had his breakfast ready. Either I'm stupid or I have class. I could not look him in the eyes as I dropped my bomb. I'm leaving. Ok was all he said, like he was expecting it. Then I told him about the AIDS diagnosis and that he should get tested as soon as possible.

And that was it. So anticlimactic. I already had the garage open and I gave him my garage door opener. Nothing else was said. I got in my car and began my drive back to Texas. Alone again as usual and counting on the one constant in my life, myself.

Jazz and Classical Musique

One of my dear friends sent me a link to a great station out of Paris France that plays jazz and classical music. They also play a variety of Big Band, standards, all the stuff Chiflado likes. Click on the link and click on the 'Ecouter' button, that's French for listen. Hope ya'll enjoy it as much as moi. http://www.classicandjazz.net/

Disclosure

So there I was with my power symbol and my meds in hand. The next step was to disclose my status to loved ones. I was out of state so I called around for cheap airfare, I planned on doing this in person. They do not have any I-Just-Found-Out-I-Had-AIDS rates, so you know what I had to do.

I called family and they all said come home. They knew the power a family has and my relationship was pretty much over. We cried of course and I assured everyone I was okay as I explained the little I knew of the disease.

I had so many wonderful friends where I was and I was actually able to tell one couple of my situation. They were shocked and very understanding. And a hug never felt so good. People tend to run away as if we're contagious where it's actually us that might catch an illness.

There were other cherished friends, but I could never speak to them because I was usually with my partner. I was able to talk to them over the phone and via email when I finally left.

And all these beautiful people are still around and check up on me via email and I get warm fuzzies in the mail once in a while. They are all part of my support system.

Om

I looked at my three t-cells not as a death sentence but as a lesson learned. I named them Midler, Garland, and Minelli, MGM! Might as well make light of the situation.

I had also been reading a lot on Buddhism and Hinduism and Om kept haunting me for the obvious reason. You can obviously see the number three in the sanskrit symbol here.

So I decided to get an Om tattoo and I look at it everyday as a reminder of where I was. I call it my power symbol. Not to mention it gets a lot of attention from people in the know and people that ask what it's about. Of course I don't tell about the t-cells but about Om.
More later...

3 T-cells

So there I was at the hospital and it really had not sunk in. AIDS. I was given some prescriptions and orders for labwork. They took 16 vials of blood for whatever tests they called for. As I walked to the parking lot, I was in a daze and all I could think of was I have to get dinner going for my partner.

My partner was very difficult to talk to so I kept mum on the subject and he knew I had scripts and labwork done. You may wonder, why did I not get tested? We both got tested before we got into the relationship and we both tested negative. After that, I tested every six months or so then I figured why bother since it was a 'monogamous' relationship. I certainly wasn't looking to play around and I thought neither did he. Boy was I wrong, but why did he test negative?

I was on sick leave because I was contagious, not to mention I could not work the keyboard with one hand. So I got all my meds the next day and started taking them. You may wonder what the difference is between HIV and AIDS. HIV is the virus present in the body and AIDS is when one's t-cell count falls below 200 or has had an opportunistic infection. I had both.

Under the Weather

I was all gung-ho about this blog and I am still under the weather for some reason. The nausea is under control finally, but there are other aches and pains and for some reason I'm freezing...and I live in San Antonio!

More later...