I’m back, breaking my blogging fast

Featured by Kenn, posted in activism, AIDS and HIV, biography/autobiography, coming out of the closet, friendship, grief, holiday letter, queer, Youth/Elders Project

Facebook, with its at-best superficial ways of linking me to my world, has taken me away from greater reflection possible in this blog so…I’m back – on my journey here.

The past few weeks I have been involved with the Youth/Elders Project, a joint effort of Buddies in Bad Times Theatre, the 519 Community Centre and the Senior Pride Network. We are a group of queer-identified people – youth, up to 25 years old, and elder folk 55 years and up.

We have been meeting separately in our age cohorts, either at Buddies or the 519, and will continue to do so except for occasions like this past Saturday when we met en masse for the first time.

The highlight of Saturday, for me, was a speed-dating style exercise in which youth sat with the rest of us, one-on-one, to discuss things such as early queer role models, or lack thereof, early cultural markers (or landmines), and things such as favourite films and TV shows.

F. asked me about films about AIDS.  I could only come up with two – Philadelphia, which I saw with my friend Chaz the week that Jim died, and Longtime Companion, which Jim and I reviewed over and over in our minds the night that Terry died.

I forgot all about Angels in America – which I loved!

We spoke of friendship – intimate friendship; Jim and me separated by death and F. separated by geography from his best buddy. No modern means of communication can match being in person. Tears were shed, hugs exchanged – it was a genuine moment of connection which I treasure still now, thinking about it.

Oh and we each have/had a gay brother.

It was an amazing three hours.

We return to our separate work-shopping this week, eager to meet again as the project evolves.

I am reminded

by Kenn, posted in activism, anti-LGBTQI violence, gay-bashing, grief, homophobia, homophobia/transphobia, homosexuality, PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), sexual orientation

I am reminded of December 6, 1989 at Montreal’s Ecole Polytechnique.

I am reminded of February 5, 1981 – Toronto’s bath house raids, the catalyst for my coming out.

I am reminded of stolen innocence as a child at the hands of a stranger.

I am reminded of the “flu” I couldn’t shake in May of 1989 when HIV was settling in.

I am reminded of the impact of a taxi cab as it rolled me on to the street on April 30, 2003.

I am reminded of a street preacher verbally assaulting me following the opening ceremonies of World Pride 2014.

I am reminded of AIDS vigils when I was incoherent with grief as I thought of the scores of people I knew who have died.

I am reminded of my connection to the human family and, in the context of the Orlando massacre, my LGBT family and friends in particular.

Medical update: It’s all good

by Kenn, posted in AIDS and HIV, CD-4, medical update, mental health, type-II diabetes, viral load

While showing me a graph, with the trajectory of my health over the past few months, my endocrinologist  remarked, “I wouldn’t have sold you life insurance in January!”

Point taken.  It was a rough patch, to be sure.

But now…

CD-4 count: 400 (the same level as when I was first diagnosed HIV+); up from 270

Viral load: undetectable (no change)

A1C (blood sugar): 8 (above the ideal 7 but greatly improved from my insulin overdose episode)

Weight: up (I can’t remember either the former or current weight)

 

I’m still feeling a little wobbly on my legs so I’m using a cane, more often than not, and I have a walker to take with me to the grocery store for heavy loads.

All in all, I am shaping up nicely for spring!

Out for 35 years

by Kenn, posted in activism, AIDS and HIV, autobiography, coming out of the closet, family, homosexuality, Mount Sinai Narrative Writing Group, sexual orientation

Reading something which noted that 1981 was 35 years ago jarred me into realizing that it was three-and-a-half decades ago this very month that I officially came out of the closet, by which I mean letting my family know that I was gay.

It was in the context of the uproar over the bathhouse raids by Toronto police in which, but for luck, I was not involved.

This weekend’s cold temperatures remind me of the cold nights spent protesting the raids, a fear of being seen on the TV news which propelled me to pen a letter of coming out to my Mom and Dad.

It was met with a phone call from Mom in which she assured me of their unconditional love for me (after I had imagined worst case scenarios of a different kind for no reason).

35 years!  I was a fresh-skinned 21-year old then on the eve of the first cases of AIDS being reported in the United States.  I managed to escape the first waves of death which swept through the community and now count myself among ‘long-term survivors’.  AIDS still seems very real to me but I no longer take for granted that I will die prematurely.  I’m trying to accept that there are some things I just don’t know.

There have been other things which could have, and could yet, kill me but, for now, I am trying to re-experience the energy I recall from those powerful days of protest in 1981.

Walking the walk – with assistance

by Kenn, posted in biography/autobiography, medical update

First there was the pre-Christmas illness. Then, while in Perth, I went for only one walk – to the pharmacy – in a town which normally calls out for long walks.  I even felt unsteady on my feet roaming around Mom’s big old house.

Mom, who has been using a walker  herself for a year or so, suggested I check into getting myself a walker once I returned home.

I did.  Yesterday. A walker from my community’s storage was made available to me.  I took to it like the proverbial duck to water, although I’m a tad tall for it.  I went out for some milk and bread, pushing/being pulled by my new friend, then walking the long way home to put some miles on it.

Last night, oblivious to what barriers I might encounter, I went to a meeting via the subway, folding and carrying the walker where necessary, happily taking the offered subway seat, then walking the several blocks from St. Clair station.

I am easing into it.  There are walks which I can easily do without help, so it may surprise people when on other occasions I present with the walker.

It helps me walk.  It gives me confidence.  Why would I worry about what anyone thinks about me using it.

Chasing the HI on a glucose meter

by Kenn, posted in autobiography, health-care, medical update

I spent the afternoon yesterday in the Emergency Department of Toronto’s Mount Sinai Hospital after a drug overdose, albeit accidental, when I tried to eliminate a “HI” reading on my glucose meter with two, then three times the recommended dosage of my insulin.  It was lost on me that doubling and tripling up on a time release insulin formula was plunging it well beyond my control, rather than naively reining it in.

“Stop chasing the ‘HI,” quipped the ER doc after an uncomfortable stay, clearing me out with an IV, a cookie and some orange juice.

Indeed.

Thank you to staff of my housing co-op for providing me with a ride to, and a taxi from, Mount Sinai and to Ryan for staying with me pre-treatment.