In honour of Montréal's gay pride weekend, I thought I would participate by making a little list of what makes me proud and not proud of myself and my community.
I am proud that Montréal has an explicitly inclusive pride, without messages denouncing those who dare to differ from mainstream society — drag queens and the leather community. There is no big endorsement of the 'We're the normal gays' message here.
I am not proud of the youth- and beauty-centricity that still very much dominates the community.
I am proud of the creativity that typifies the community and all of the things that we do.
I am not proud of the poverty and the disparity that often makes this creativity a necessity from day to day.
I am proud of the dedication of the hundreds of people who give of themselves to volunteer in our many community organizations.
I am not proud that much of the rest of our community seems to have lost its interest in and appetite for health messages, including HIV prevention messages.
I am proud that our community rallied to maintain the community aspects of our pride: community day, where the street is filled with the many health and social organizations who work all year to better the lives of all our community members, and the parade, where we show the rest of our society the diversity in our part of the community.
I am not proud that the community aspects were not central to the interests of the previous organizers, who made the very rushed rallying necessary by announcing their own withdrawal from the task mere months ago.
I am proud that I am able to live my life openly as a gay man in this city, with little fear of victimization by the majority.
I am not proud of the ever-present stigma related to being HIV-positive, even in the gay community (although this is less prevalent in our community).
On a personal level, I am proud that I spent several hours volunteering for my own organization setting up and taking down the kiosk that we had up today.
I am not proud that this was the limit of my participation. I am not feeling particularly like a part of my community these days, due to a few of those people mentioned in the previous post.
If I were to tip the balance here, I would add that I am not proud that I have come to the point of seeing myself through those judging eyes. There are only so many times that one can be slapped in the face before deciding not to present the face for slapping.
28 July 2007
27 July 2007
Mal élevés
I'm sure this will seem a bit of a mood swing from my previous entry, but I'm here to rant today. And I have struggled with trying to find a new style to fit this into my 'Stylin' Fridays' theme, but that has only led to the two week delay in continuing with my health discussion.
So today's topic is the reactions I have had to deal with to the changes in my body shape after almost a decade of anti-retroviral treatment. Don't get me wrong: I do think that there are other elements to be taken into consideration. I have aged and my metabolism has slowed. I quit smoking (even though I don't think I compensated by eating, I hear there is a metabolic impact of quitting smoking as well). I am less active. This last one is complex in itself. I often come home from work and am so exhausted that I just fall asleep, but I know (even from experience) that if I could integrate regular exercise into my life this would eventually give me more energy. I also have psoriatic arthritis in my hands and feet, which can make a number of traditional exercise activities too difficult. Before suggesting anything like a gym or a pool, I would recommend reading what follows.
"You've gained weight." This is what I got a couple of times at the gay and lesbian country dance club I used to go to. I did manage to counter with "I can't believe that you think you can say that to someone" on one occasion, but even if that made the person feel bad about himself, it didn't make me feel any better. As this wasn't the kind of experience I wanted to have in my leisure activities, I just stopped going. Of course, I have come up with a much snappier comeback since: "Do you think I don't have a mirror, or are you just trying to make me feel good?"
"You must be in love…someone has been feeding you." This one soured my experience of visitors' day at Camp Positive, a summer camp in the country for people living with HIV.
"Well that (pointing at my stomach) is not from the drugs." This from a woman who has been a big activist with the Comité Lipo-Action!, our group advocating for coverage of reparatory treatments for lipodystrophy, or, to be more accurate, for facial lipoatrophy, as they don't seem to be thinking very much about anything other than the (facial) cheeks.
This last one is particularly galling. Here is a group which began with a cry of "Our doctors aren't listening to us!" and has pursued a battle to repair the damage that various anti-retroviral medications have done to their faces. Why? 'Because it is making HIV visible again, we are becoming identifiable by our faces.'
Pardon me if I am much less concerned about revealing my HIV status, as I have done so on any number of occasions in almost every form of media available. I actually do respect every person's right to disclose or not disclose her/his status. But I also remember the things my mother told me growing up about how to talk to people and how to treat them. Do you at one moment decry the lack of understanding you are getting from medical professionals and then turn around and deny the experiences of others? Do you say things to people that cannot possibly have any effect other than to make them feel bad?
Not where I come from.
So today's topic is the reactions I have had to deal with to the changes in my body shape after almost a decade of anti-retroviral treatment. Don't get me wrong: I do think that there are other elements to be taken into consideration. I have aged and my metabolism has slowed. I quit smoking (even though I don't think I compensated by eating, I hear there is a metabolic impact of quitting smoking as well). I am less active. This last one is complex in itself. I often come home from work and am so exhausted that I just fall asleep, but I know (even from experience) that if I could integrate regular exercise into my life this would eventually give me more energy. I also have psoriatic arthritis in my hands and feet, which can make a number of traditional exercise activities too difficult. Before suggesting anything like a gym or a pool, I would recommend reading what follows.
"You've gained weight." This is what I got a couple of times at the gay and lesbian country dance club I used to go to. I did manage to counter with "I can't believe that you think you can say that to someone" on one occasion, but even if that made the person feel bad about himself, it didn't make me feel any better. As this wasn't the kind of experience I wanted to have in my leisure activities, I just stopped going. Of course, I have come up with a much snappier comeback since: "Do you think I don't have a mirror, or are you just trying to make me feel good?"
"You must be in love…someone has been feeding you." This one soured my experience of visitors' day at Camp Positive, a summer camp in the country for people living with HIV.
"Well that (pointing at my stomach) is not from the drugs." This from a woman who has been a big activist with the Comité Lipo-Action!, our group advocating for coverage of reparatory treatments for lipodystrophy, or, to be more accurate, for facial lipoatrophy, as they don't seem to be thinking very much about anything other than the (facial) cheeks.
This last one is particularly galling. Here is a group which began with a cry of "Our doctors aren't listening to us!" and has pursued a battle to repair the damage that various anti-retroviral medications have done to their faces. Why? 'Because it is making HIV visible again, we are becoming identifiable by our faces.'
Pardon me if I am much less concerned about revealing my HIV status, as I have done so on any number of occasions in almost every form of media available. I actually do respect every person's right to disclose or not disclose her/his status. But I also remember the things my mother told me growing up about how to talk to people and how to treat them. Do you at one moment decry the lack of understanding you are getting from medical professionals and then turn around and deny the experiences of others? Do you say things to people that cannot possibly have any effect other than to make them feel bad?
Not where I come from.
13 July 2007
Fifty comes early!
This is a story that brought a tear to my eye as it unrolled. It's about my family and about how generous they are.
It seems that when my eldest sister was visiting me in May she had some unfavourable impressions of my fridge! (Just joking — she observed its condition, which was something less than ideal.) Considering that I bought it used over twenty years ago, it is probably a miracle meriting Vatican investigation that it was still keeping anything cold.
Here's what it looked like, both closed:
…and open:
So while she was still in British Columbia, she and my other two sisters, my brother, their spouses and my parents conspired together to replace it with a lovely new one, which arrived today:
When my little sister called me to tell me to expect it, real tears welled up in my eyes. It was not, as one of my favourite greeting cards once announced, that I was overwhelmed by the beauty and magic of life handing me perfect ice cubes once again (although this is now true!), but being moved by the love and generosity of my family.
Of course, being me, I was immediately seized by the thought that it was too much, and that it had something to say about my ongoing inability to provide for myself. (Nasty pessimist!) I have been reassured, however, that this is an early (may I add VERY EARLY?!) fiftieth birthday present, since I have long been reluctant to celebrate the day when it comes around. So there we have it: they are all conspiring to try to age me early because of their extreme jealousy over my not having any grey hair (just some increases in the blond ones showing up in my beard).
I knew there was an ulterior motive! ;-)
Of course, being me, I was immediately seized by the thought that it was too much, and that it had something to say about my ongoing inability to provide for myself. (Nasty pessimist!) I have been reassured, however, that this is an early (may I add VERY EARLY?!) fiftieth birthday present, since I have long been reluctant to celebrate the day when it comes around. So there we have it: they are all conspiring to try to age me early because of their extreme jealousy over my not having any grey hair (just some increases in the blond ones showing up in my beard).
I knew there was an ulterior motive! ;-)
But seriously, I love my family a lot, and they never have to buy me anything for that. Just throw me a game of cards or Scrabble every now and then (but be careful not to make that obvious!).
04 July 2007
Stylin' Friday: Lipodystrophy, Part I
Yeah, I know it's Wednesday, but my series is Stylin' Fridays and it has been far too long since I posted. Maybe if I'm inspired we will have two Fridays this week. Appropriately surreal, if you care to read on.
The topic of lipodystrophy is too big and too big a part of my experience of HIV for me to address it in a single entry, so I'm dividing it up — cutting it up, if you will. I'm not sure at this point how many parts it will be, so I'll just have to number them as I go along.
This first instalment, in which I try to take an "objective" look at my various symptoms (this will be inherently subjective, as it comes from my own perspective), is my own attempt to imitate the style of William S. Burroughs, as made possible by using a kooky website providing tools to assist in reconfiguring the text, in this case the "cut-up engine".
Here we go...
The world particularly on a hard chair dancing and walking — But buttocks fidgeting becomes the order of the day — On the fat loss of course leaving leg muscles impressive — It started with the legs and the incapable of comfortable sitting — They ought to start taking the same enough — The product of regular like my mother speculating that than it might be — Is not the end of buttocks — The fat melted away there is the amusement of others — Meds this part while slightly disturbing and less comfortable —
Hump-provocation as well — Change in the meds — A change be going anywhere very soon — It will always be that it didn't seems to be — Showing signs of continues to grow even after a — The neck enough to provoke appearance — A small bump atop the shoulders almost infringing on which might have been ill-advised — Then the hump started to make its panicky thoughts of what it might — In retrospect as the new choice arrive on its own and it won't a big problem — But the suspicion come to others don't see it as —
Neck fat takes away the chin — Or stomach growing but not in the way love handles — Everything being up adds another one impossible to ignore especially in profile — Extra upper back fat tightens shirts and growth spurt — The difference — No almost gives that overdeveloped front and not on the sides — But football player look I remember it growing — When slightly overweight as a teen — Before the there's more fat to come — Frontal —
Fat widening the face turns out be covered — As recently discovered to be apparently the only thing — To be another change that seemed like to this — Even if it turns out to done about this is radiation — And I can't imagine subjecting myself — Hypertrophy of the parotid glands —
Some quarters and no notable — Provoked a little more sympathy from ignoring the arrival of high blood — Extra pounds metabolic impacts — In the blood pressure accompanying the sixty — The better news in my own case is cheeks — Although these might have what has not arrived — No hollow —
(And back to regular prose)
I won't claim that all of my problems stem from my meds or from my virus. I am aware of my bad habits — sloth, over-consumption, even excessive permissiveness toward these proclivities — but I cannot take the blame for all of it. What hurts is the perception coming — surprisingly verbally — from others that this is all about me and all within my control.
More about that topic in a future episode.
The topic of lipodystrophy is too big and too big a part of my experience of HIV for me to address it in a single entry, so I'm dividing it up — cutting it up, if you will. I'm not sure at this point how many parts it will be, so I'll just have to number them as I go along.
This first instalment, in which I try to take an "objective" look at my various symptoms (this will be inherently subjective, as it comes from my own perspective), is my own attempt to imitate the style of William S. Burroughs, as made possible by using a kooky website providing tools to assist in reconfiguring the text, in this case the "cut-up engine".
Here we go...
The world particularly on a hard chair dancing and walking — But buttocks fidgeting becomes the order of the day — On the fat loss of course leaving leg muscles impressive — It started with the legs and the incapable of comfortable sitting — They ought to start taking the same enough — The product of regular like my mother speculating that than it might be — Is not the end of buttocks — The fat melted away there is the amusement of others — Meds this part while slightly disturbing and less comfortable —
Hump-provocation as well — Change in the meds — A change be going anywhere very soon — It will always be that it didn't seems to be — Showing signs of continues to grow even after a — The neck enough to provoke appearance — A small bump atop the shoulders almost infringing on which might have been ill-advised — Then the hump started to make its panicky thoughts of what it might — In retrospect as the new choice arrive on its own and it won't a big problem — But the suspicion come to others don't see it as —
Neck fat takes away the chin — Or stomach growing but not in the way love handles — Everything being up adds another one impossible to ignore especially in profile — Extra upper back fat tightens shirts and growth spurt — The difference — No almost gives that overdeveloped front and not on the sides — But football player look I remember it growing — When slightly overweight as a teen — Before the there's more fat to come — Frontal —
Fat widening the face turns out be covered — As recently discovered to be apparently the only thing — To be another change that seemed like to this — Even if it turns out to done about this is radiation — And I can't imagine subjecting myself — Hypertrophy of the parotid glands —
Some quarters and no notable — Provoked a little more sympathy from ignoring the arrival of high blood — Extra pounds metabolic impacts — In the blood pressure accompanying the sixty — The better news in my own case is cheeks — Although these might have what has not arrived — No hollow —
(And back to regular prose)
I won't claim that all of my problems stem from my meds or from my virus. I am aware of my bad habits — sloth, over-consumption, even excessive permissiveness toward these proclivities — but I cannot take the blame for all of it. What hurts is the perception coming — surprisingly verbally — from others that this is all about me and all within my control.
More about that topic in a future episode.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)