Vaccination

I got my vaccination against Influenza A (H1N1) last Saturday. For the sake of simplicity, let's just call it the swine flu and be done with it.

I was anxious leading up to this experience, but not because of any vaccine fears. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get it soon enough to not interfere with the other vaccination I have coming up. You see, we discovered last spring that I had lost my protection against Hepatitis A and B and I had to restart that process of vaccination (three doses, at 0, 1 and 6 months) to get that coverage back. My third dose will be in the first week of December and I really didn't want to have to choose between swine flu protection and the success of this latest attempt to ensure protection against Hepatitis A and B, especially considering the length of the latter process.

My experiences of Hepatitis A and B vaccination now number 3. The first time, I produced no immune response. This was in the lead-up to my diagnosis with HIV, so I probably had no immune system to mount a response (remember I was diagnosed rather late, with a CD4+ cell count of only 4). The second time around, in 2000, it seemed to have worked, right up until seeing the lack of protection in my routine blood tests last spring. Now is time number 3. May it work in a more lasting way.

The experience of the swine flu vaccination was a relief. Our many governments seem to be somewhat disorganized in their response, with fluctuating supplies and changing lists of who is eligible/prioritized for vaccination. The weakness of devolving the organization of health care to the regional level has clearly shown itself: there seem to be no two regions in Québec that are proceeding in the same way, leading to increasing confusion in the population.

The situation is also evolving rapidly, and these changes confuse, too. Our public health authorities across the whole country worked really hard to create a sense of urgency for the whole population to be vaccinated, and then when events — particularly the death of an otherwise healthy teenaged hockey player in Ontario — helped to illustrate the potential seriousness of this virus and really sold people on the vaccine way that the public health messages had not, they all seemed to have been caught unaware. (I would have said 'with their pants down,' but this vaccination is delivered to the arm!) Long lines and frustrated, panicked people were the results.

In that context, I was a little trepidacious about my own trip to the vaccination centre. Would they respect the order of priority explained in the flyer we got in every household (children under 5, women in the second half of their pregnancy, pregnant women with underlying health conditions, and people who are immune suppressed) or the list published two days later in the newspapers (all of the above, except the immune suppressed)? Would my vaccination be pushed back to a date uncomfortably close to my final dose of Hepatitis A and B vaccine?

All of the worry was for naught. I arrived at about noon and they were still giving out tickets marked 11 am. I went right into the building, had a form printed and within minutes was upstairs watching the informational video (with English subtitles, even!). I completed the consent questionnaire (did I feel sick today, did I have allergies to eggs, etc.), had a brief visit to a nurse to verify my reason for getting the vaccine (they didn't even want to see the proof I had brought) and then I was in front of another nurse getting injected. Statutory 15 minute waiting period, and I was out the door a mere 40 minutes after arriving. Done and done.

And I didn't even cry like the other kids being vaccinated next to me, not for the needle nor for the putting back on of the coats to go outside (which seemed traumatic for many of my young co-vaccinés).

Magic!

Tonight's performance of the Magic Flute by the Opéra de Montréal was very lovely, one of my most enjoyable opera experiences yet. This is one of the first German operas I have seen produced by the company — they usually stick to the Italian side of things — and I would heartily recommend it.

Let's talk about the sets for a minute. Not fabulous, but they still worked. I'm not sure if they intended for us to laugh as Tamino and Pamina endure the trials by fire and water, but it was so cheesy as to be very funny indeed. In the big scene at the end, I thought the set made Sarastro look like Raël or maybe the high priest of the Order of the Solar Temple. Either of those would be comic in a kind of tragic way. The spirits floating across the stage on a cloud were inspired and the periodic appearance of props from on high (bird, noose) also made us laugh out loud and worked quite well.

Costumes? Fabulous animals, including the serpent at the beginning and all number of creatures brought out by the flute, including a … camelcorn? Tamino had a lovely outfit through most of it, until he donned the Solar Temple robes at the end, and the Queen of the Night's tiara was to die for, or to die of if she had decided to use it for evil, which I wouldn't put past her! The best of all were the costumes of Papageno and Papagena, most birdlike indeed.

And while we're on the topic of Papageno, I have to salute the fabulous job that Aaron St. Clair Nicholson did in the role of Papageno. Not only does he sing beautifully, but his comic acting abilities, including great timing, had us rolling in the aisles. The Queen of the Night aria, sung by Aline Kutan, was also very beautiful and well executed.

Of course, some of the content of this opera is not for the feminist of heart. Memorable lines like "A woman does little, chatters much" and "A man must lead your hearts, for without him every woman is misguided" are not exactly cut from the pages of a Gloria Steinem book. But I guess we can all agree that Mozart was not a feminist, but a product of his time and move on from there.

Good fun, this one, and even better in good company.

At Least It Was a Moral…Defeat

Lovely aftermath of our municipal elections, which took place yesterday.

The mayor, whose administration was mired in a few ethical scandals, was returned to power, and with a majority of seats on the city council. At least a few of the big names in his party, including his brother (there's that high school look again — mayor's brother occupies important post in the city) lost their seats.

The progressive provincial politician who unfortunately chose to take a run at municipal politics with the most right wing of the municipal parties came second.

The leader of the new progressive party (the only one that ran mainly on the party's ideas and not on the personality of its leader) came third, but almost tripled his showing from four years ago. In fact, the party — Projet Montréal — has complete control of the Plateau neighbourhood and made some gains in other parts of the city, too, ending with 10 city councillors this time in comparison to the lone one last time out.

Ah, but the real moral defeat was suffered by our democracy. Overall voter turnout was extremely low by Canadian standards — between 30% and 40% — even after all the hot ticket issues that came out during the campaign. The mayor got a whopping 14.2% of voters to turn out and support him. The others did even worse. There were no more than a handful of areas in the city where more than half of the electors turned out to vote, and those were squeakers with just over 50%.

We'll see if there is any impact on the things that really need to be changed.

Démocratie?

C'est l'année des élections municipales à Montréal et je m'inquiète de l'état de notre démocratie.

Première indication de trouble : le maire d'une des villes en banlieue a réussi à convaincre un candidat de l'opposition de se retirer, mais s'est trouvé avec un autre moins collaborateur. Son argument? Comme plusieurs des conseillers de la ville ont été élus par acclamation, donc ce serait un gaspillage d'argent d'avoir à mener des élections dans ces districts. Il paraît que la démocratie ne vaut pas les 20 000$ que ça peut coûter.

Deuxième signe de problèmes : les partis politiques qui changent leurs noms pour y incorporer le nom de leur chef. Le parti du maire sortant s'appelle maintenant « Équipe Tremblay - Union Montréal » et celui de l'opposition officielle « Équipe Harel - Vision Montréal ». Deux autres partis se nomment d'une manière similaire. Ça me fait penser que ce sont des partis non pas d'idées, mais de personnalités. Retour à l'école secondaire…

Troisième cri d'alarme : la nouvelle configuration de la représentation de mon arrondissement. Je suis installé dans l'arrondissement de Ville-Marie, au centre-ville de Montréal. Dans la plupart des arrondissements, chaque citoyen va choisir un maire d'arrondissement, un conseiller de ville et, dans certains, un conseiller d'arrondissement. Tous ces élus constituent le conseil d'arrondissement. Pas chez moi. En fait, je suis privé du choix de maire d'arrondissement, car c'est le maire de la ville qui assume automatiquement ce poste. De plus, mes concitoyens et moi vont élire ensemble trois conseillers de ville (dans les trois districts de l'arrondissement) et ils vont siéger avec le maire de la ville et deux autres personnes nommées à partir des conseillers de ville élus ailleurs dans la ville. La moitié de ma représentation locale aurait été choisie par les gens qui ne demeurent pas dans mon quartier.

Dernier gros problème : la non-participation. Je serais dans les 30% des électeurs qui vont participer à ces élections. C'est encore pire lors des élections scolaires, où je fais partie des 2% qui votent.

Devrais-je me contenter qu'il n'y a pas plus de monde dehors mon quartier qui va participer à choisir mon conseil d'arrondissement?

Mayan Y2K*

I've had my eyes on a film that is coming out soon: 2012

I even came face to face with the large version of the publicity for the film in the cinema.

It seems that the Mayan calendar is coming to an end and with it, so the theory goes, the WHOLE WORLD! Don't bother running for the hills — they will be going, too! And all because some ancient stonecarver neglected to indicate that the new calendar should come out a few months before the old one expired.

No doubt there will be all sorts of doomsday profiteers cashing in on the insecurities of the weak-minded. Some are even cashing in on the cynicism.

I'm reminded of the groups of atheists who have set up a post-Rapture pet care service to take care of the pets of the faithful after the Rapture (pets can't go to heaven and those providing the service guarantee that they are blasphemers and won't be going either). No refunds if the rapture fails to occur or if you get left behind!

And what will they all do if it fizzles like the computer Y2K? Or what if it's real?!

Like those who spent a whole lot of money to prepare for the computer Y2K, I have adopted a preventive strategy to head off any disruptions in my own life.

Some years ago, I switched to the Firemen Calendar, largely out of concern for burn victims (the calendar I buy benefits a burn unit). Now I find that this act of charity will also serve to protect me from the apocalypse. I am sure that there will be a Firemen Calendar in 2013, and that it will be out well in advance of the expiry of the previous one.

*Term stolen from someone I was in a meeting with this weekend. Thanks!

Now the Story Can Be Told

I have been living in fear and disgust since the weekend of Labour Day, when a most disturbing event took away my peace of mind.

I saw a rat. In. My. Apartment.

There were actually three sightings. Once from the corner of my eye, the kind of thing that you're not really sure is really there, but you could swear you saw something. I pinned my hopes on mouse, but thought it was a rather large mouse.

The next was unmistakeable and the most disturbing, as is zoomed across the stove and counter and down behind the fridge. Enraged, I moved the fridge forward a bit, grabbed the broom and did my best 'crazy person gonna squish that animal with a broom' moves. I heard, but did not see its quick dash to freedom.

Then the investigator hat came out. I found a little pile of crackers behind the fridge, which I quickly disposed of, and then I found the emptied box of crackers on the counter. I switched into panic cleaning mode (with some help — thanks Andrew! — and did that kitchen purge of clutter that I should have done long, long ago. A was most helpful in giving the critter a name — Benoit — which I later amended to Benoit XVII, successor to the current pope, perhaps? After Andrew left, I did the cleaning part and now have clean top surfaces, at least, and way more space without the clutter. I should note that every time I walked through my dining room, in which is located my stereo permanently fixed on CBC Radio One, there was almost invariably some kind of rat story being told, usually something about the province of Saskatchewan having an explosion in rat population. Or there would be the program As It Happens making dozens of rat-based puns. All a little too much for me to handle.

Sighting number three was a little foray back from checking on the state of its cracker stash (gone). I spent a rather sleepless night, considering that my bedroom is not far enough away from the scene of the crime.

I called the exterminator. Because my landlord was out of town, I got to choose, so of course called the cute one we used at my old work. (Bonus!) He had a look around, didn't see a lot of traces (so it hadn't been around long?) and left some lovely blue blocks of poison behind the major appliances, with some spares for my use.

I spent the day that day working at home in the front of my apartment. I happened to wander back to the kitchen and froze as I got close. One of the blue blocks of rat poison was now in the middle of the kitchen floor! I had a brief flash of a rat on its hind legs, throwing the block at me and telling me to eat the darn thing! Some quick sleuthing revealed that it was the one from behind the washer, so I put it back.

The next day, returning from work, I checked the block placement. The popular one from behind the washer was gone! Nowhere to be seen! I replaced it with a fresh one from my supply. I discovered the next morning that it was not, in fact, gone. It had been moved behind the fridge. Where once there was one, now there were two! (So glad I didn't see that the night before; I had slept on the basis of a rat gagging on poison somewhere outside of my apartment.)

Two days later, I went to see a movie in the evening and wasn't able to check until I got home much later. Big surprise! Nothing behind the washer. Nothing behind the fridge. That would be three missing blocks of rat poison. Surely that would kill it! I replaced them and went to bed with mixed feelings (yes, poison maybe consumed, but it had been there that day!).

A week went by with no sounds, no sightings, and no more moving blocks of poison.

The exterminator came by today for a follow-up visit and we found a few things. We did find one of the 'missing' blocks under the fridge, chewed upon, which is good. We also found the hole into which the rat was escaping, which had been a big mystery. (It was under the toe-kick of the cupboard, at the edge where there was just a filler board to make the cupboard flush with the wall.). Best of all, he found a body downstairs in the neighbours' outdoor closet thingy. Phew! I am allowing myself to sleep by believing that the body was the rat that was in my apartment and that there were no others.

But I'm watching. I'm monitoring the blocks. And I found some dollar-store steel wool to plug the opening of that hole. So I hope my ordeal is over.

And as for Benoit — and I do mean the pope this time — did you realize that his family name is…RATzinger?!!

Neglect

OMG! Almost two months since my last post!

I was away for a while, busy for a while and lazy for most of the time. I promise to get back to recounting my life and inane thoughts soon.

The thing that I can't neglect, however, is upon us! It is time for our annual AIDS Walk, Ça Marche, and I will again be participating, but have not yet decided who to walk with (since changing jobs, I am not sure that walking with my old group would be appropriate). Maybe I will muscle my way up front and walk with the Farha family and the other Star Walkers. At least that way, I won't come in last like I did last year (seriously, the police cars closing the walk were on my heels!).

The big thing about Ça Marche is the fundraising, so please do sponsor me. You can click here or on the image to the right at the top of the blog.

Thanks for your support!