I pulled off Thanksgiving. Food came out great, but I had to keep going back to bed. I’m freakin’ tired. Truth be told, I think I’m dying, but things are feeling better now. I’m just worn out.
This is not about my HIV… those little buggers always gift me with pneumonia when they are acting up. This ain’t Hep-C, I know what hepatitis feels like. It is something so simple that it is pathetic.
I am bleeding way too much everyday. It comes from when a “friend” drugged me and then spent 8 hours raping me (introducing me to Gay Culture) whilst chained to the floor. My bottom never really healed up. Wasn’t too bad until after the Federal Flood of New Orleans and me getting into the fray again.
I held out to see Betts and I back into the house. She put it together and my job was to support her and to fight for New Orleans. Once we got home I hoped to make through the Holidays which is her favorite time of the year. I enjoy the look in her eyes when I hang the lights and when we are cooking together. I love to see her in her Santa hat dancing to Christmas music. (Which I hate.)
Ain’t gonna happen this year. I’m going to be shipped out to Jackson or Houston to have a doc laser my butt. There will be doctors lecturing me about my health and me responding that I can handle it. Remember, they said I’d be dead in ’95. I have this thing about fucking with predictions. Losing the battle is not in my game plan. I’ve won battles and lost them… lost many friends in the course of the years and it hurts. I’m the Phouka’s own whelp and will continue to fight another day. I owe it to my friends who are long gone.
If this procedure is to be done, I’ll be gone for a time. I don’t have a working laptop so I’ll be out of the loop. This hurts me more than my body going crazy. The fight is what keeps me going. That is my reason for living, otherwise, the Summer Country is an enticing thought, but I’m not ready for that trip.
So I’ll make my decision in the next 48 hours. And I’ll post about it.