Thursday, June 30, 2005

Dr. Thomas C. Mapother IV, MA, PhD, PsyD, MD, DDS, DVM

He was born Thomas Cruise Mapother IV in Syracuse, New Jersey on the 3rd of July, 1962, to nomadic parents. His mother, Mary Lee Pfeiffer from Louisiana, had married Thomas Cruise Mapother III, an electronics engineer from the University of Kentucky, whose job with General Electric took them all over.

At one point there was so little money that Tom [ed. Note – our hero Tom IV] took a scholarship at the St Francis Seminary in Cincinnati where, for a year, he studied for the priesthood and, more importantly, ate properly. Eventually, Mary Lee married again; Jack South. There were more moves - indeed, by the age of 14, Tom had attended 15 different schools - but, eventually, they settled, Tom enrolling at Glen Ridge High School, New Jersey. From here, he went straight into acting.

At 18, he left Glen Ridge and moved to New York, supporting himself by working as a bus-boy, a porter in an apartment block and a table-cleaner at Mortimer's restaurant. In the evenings he took drama classes, auditioning for TV ads whenever possible. He looked good, he had that winning smile, but he was never hired. Casting directors always described him as "too intense". Feeding on hot dogs and rice, he lived, he now says "like an animal in the jungle".

As the only son in the family, he had grown up around women. Indeed, he remembers his sister Marian's friends coming round when he was just 6 or 7, sitting him up on the kitchen sink and using him for kissing practice. He says the first time he almost suffocated - but it was fun.

Of course, being the biggest movie star in the world, Cruise receives attention of another kind. He's had to sue people for claiming he's gay, one being "erotic wrestler" Chad Slater (AKA Kyle Bradford) who went so far as to claim he'd had an affair with Cruise which had ended his marriage to Kidman. June 2001 saw Cruise launch another $100 million suit against one Michael Davis who approached various news services claiming he had a video of Cruise in a homosexual relationship. Cruise often sues when he feels lies are being told and his reputation damaged. He gives all proceeds to charity - now taking a big percentage of his film's grosses (he made $75 million from M:I2), he hardly needs the money. He also gets gyp for his membership of the Church of Scientology, which he joined in 1990, despite his stated opinion that it's aided him enormously, and even helped clear up his dyslexia.


Wait. He didn’t go to graduate school? Didn’t graduate college? Didn’t graduate High School? Did he ever even get his GED? Take some college courses?

So as you can see, Tom Cruise knows what he’s talking about doesn’t he?

A couple of years ago, I was taking about 20 pills, twice a day. Sure, they were keeping my HIV in check, but they were ravaging my mind and body. I could barely walk. I had a hard time typing, cooking, mouse clicking, writing, washing, and cleaning. I couldn’t walk the dog. I couldn’t run. Sometimes, I couldn’t complete a thought, much less a sentence.

Certainly, Jumping Jacks were out of the question.

For a while there, I didn’t get off the couch. The physical limitations caused by the medications led to a deep, deep depression. The depression led to sleeping and crying. Lots of crying. For no reason whatsoever.

So, what Doctor Tom is saying is that I should and could have come out of that depression with some vitamins and exercise.

Can I hear a rousing BULLSHIT for that one?

It took MEDICATION. Two different kinds of medication.

Once the medications took affect, I could figure out WHY I was so depressed all the time. I was lucky. I got treated with the meds BEFORE it was so bad that I needed counseling, although that probably would have been a good idea, too.

I was depressed because I had a job that wasn’t worthy of me. I was depressed because I didn’t make enough money. I was depressed because I was relying on the promises of “people” in my life that never came true.

And I was depressed because the drugs I was on to fight my body’s own personal battle with HIV were attacking me in ways that I couldn’t have seen coming. Sure, the doctors warn you when they give them to you the first time, but that doesn’t mean anything then. Its only after the drugs start affecting your body that the different “side affects” start showing up. And they are different from person to person. Meaning… the side affects that you experience can be different than the side affects that I experience, even if we are on the same regimen.

So, please. Spare me, Doctor Tom. Either tell me which different doctoral programs you attended to give you the knowledge about depression, ADD, ADHD, and Post-Partum Depression (cause I’m fairly sure you can’t FATHER a child, much less carry one for nine months and give birth to one…) or just STFU.

And remind Katie (uhm… er… sorry, I mean KATE) that she can cure those mouth decorations with vitamins and exercise.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Rainest June On Record...

... er... almost. As of yesterday, it was Number 3. But we were only an inch away or so. And it's done nothing but rain today. On and Off. Big rain. And it isn't done yet.

The view outside my office about noon today.

UPDATE: 7/1/05 0630...

Short of the record by .90 inches.

Story of my life.

Monday, June 27, 2005


A number of years ago, when there were few medicines, I was taking AZT. By a "number of years ago", I mean when I first started taking AIDS meds. Say... 9 years ago, or so.

I started getting major headaches at the same time each day. And dizzyness. Daily. I would walk down the hall hugging the walls so I wouldn't walk into anyone or anything.

I had a hard time scheduling a meeting with my then-ID doctor, so I called my GP. He had me come in right away. I was there by noon that day.

The first thing the phlebotomist did was test my finger. The blood, after pricking three or four fingers, came out orange. He freaked and ran to get the doctor. The doctor came in and said I needed to go to the emergency room. Well, not technically... more what they called the Rapid In and Out, or "RIO" room. So, something in between Emergency Room and Full-Fledged Admittance.

I immediatly got dizzy. They pointed me to a phone. I called work and said I wouldn't be back that day (luckily, it was a Friday, about noon.) Then I called TheHusband. And started crying. He could barely understand what I was saying. "Come get me, the doctor says I need to go to the hospital, I can't drive there." Then I had to calm down enough to give him directions to the doc's office. He didn't even know where my doc's office was.

Finally he came and got me. I had such a headache. Drove me to the hospital and I was admitted to their RIO ward.

I was in a room by myself. They stuck needles in me. Lasiks, to keep me hydrated and blood. Lots of blood. Turns out (I found out later) that a normal person has about 10 pints of blood in their body. I had four.

I was there about 18 hours. Though I was tired, I went home and was fine. Doc decided it was the AZT and they changed my meds.


So for the last six months I've been on Trizivir. This is a combo drug of AZT (300mg), Lamivudine (150mg) and Abacavir (300mg).

I am once again having dizzy spells. They aren't at the same time each day, as they were before, but still... You know how you might be a bit dizzy when you've been sitting for a while (maybe updating your blog or something) and you get up really fast and have a bit of dizzyness? Well, I'm getting that a lot.

And it worry's me.

One is doing better...

... but the other isn't.

OurDog is doing better. I think. He is eating well, drinking well. But he spends a lot of time sitting on a bed that I created for him (actually, it is a afghan that my sister crocheted for me). The floor hurts him after a while, being that I have no carpet in this house... all ceramic tile. So I grabbed this afghan off the back of the couch and it became "his" bed.

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He's favoring his left rear leg a lot. Something about it is really bothering him. I don't think it's in the foot or let, I think its in his hip.

He's a Boxer-mix. Supposedly, boxers don't make it to 10 years old very often, because of a high rate of cancer. I didn't know that. The doctor says he's in complete kidney failure and he has a "mass" that is either in his lung or surrounding his heart. He's eating special food that is low in protein, and if he does well he might last a bit longer.

The entire visit to the Vet cost me my entire paycheck for two weeks. Well worth it, in my opinion, but I don't know how often I can do that.

Our friend "A" isn't doing as well. He went into the hospital two weeks ago. TheHusband and I visited him on Saturday, and he was okay, but a bit "out of it". We spoke to his nurse that day, she said he was doing okay. The next day, I wasn't feeling well, but theHusband went to see him. He was a bit more "out of it". Monday, his doctors let him go home, and although we were happy, I wondered about the logic of letting him go home so soon. Turns out, it was a bad idea.

By Wednesday, they were back in the emergency room, waiting on being admitted. And, as a side note, there was a paramedic team that reminds me of the Ambulance crews of the 1980's. From the story I heard, it was a lawsuit in the making.

We went to see "A" on Saturday. It was not good. He barely seemed to know we were there, would fall asleep during a conversation, and most of what he said had a) nothing to do with what we'd asked him, or b) was so unintelligible that we didn't know how to respond.

Saturday night, we had "D" ("A"'s Husband) over to the house for dinner. It was spontanious, and nothing special. We just wanted him to know that people cared about what was happening to him (and "A") and to see OurDog. I think it was good for him.

Friday, June 24, 2005

Life is sucking the big one...

Right now.

Our friend is not doing well. Neither is our dog. I brought him home yesterday and he was doing great... but since then? Not so good.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Happy Aniversary

One upon a time, I met the Trick Who Wouldn't leave.

13 years later, he's still around.

Here's a picture of us from 13 years ago. On our first trip out of town together, we went to New York City's Gay Pride Parade.

We're riding on the Subway, so that's why the picture is kinda fuzzy.
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Quick Post

Saw my GP the other day.

Weight: down, but just a couple of pounds.
BP: Down, but on the edge of high.
Bad cholesterol: Way down.
Liver Function: Good
Kidney Function: Good.
annoying lumps under arms: Non-existent

Whoo Hoooooo!!!

Don't have to go back for another six months.

Gotta eat more... stick to lower salt-content foods. Never had a problem with High "Bad" Cholesterol, in fact my "Good" cholesterol has always been really really high.

Issues outside of me though...

Good friend was in the hospital, because he ISN'T going to the doctor. His other half was going crazy. I went over to the house to get the dog (he used to be my dog) and that scared me even more. The dog was in horrible shape.

He got bit by a tick last summer during the hurricanes and has been in pretty bad shape ever since. So skinny, won't eat. No energy. Has a hard time getting up on his own.

TheHusband and I took him to the doctor, too. We left him there, as he needed in-patient care.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Something to think about...

So, Boi from Troy has this article about being fired for blogging.

I don't mean giving away "trade" secrets of your employer. I don't mean dogging your employer on each and every little thing and edict that they lay down.

I'm talking about being fired for blogging and even mentioning where you work. Sure, mention that you dislike "this part" or "that part" of your job, but not saying anything inflamatory - such as - "my immediate supervisor is stealing the company blind" sort of thing.

Here are the rules, from the handbook:

a) Posting proprietary information or making derogatory comments regarding {The Company} on messages boards or other public sites.
b) It's a violation of Company policy to disclose proprietary information to any third party. for this reason, {The Company} strongly encourages employees to not engage or participate in any Internet "chat room" or "bulletin/message board" conversation about the Company involving proprietary information.

So. If I did neither of these things, should I be fired? In a sense, yes. I work in a "Right to Work" state. Fine. The company can fire me for any reason or no reason.

But they fought my application for Unimployment Insurance. They had to go on record as to WHY they fired me. And it had better be a good reason, such as a clear violation of the above rules... or I would get those checks each week and the Company's account would be charged.

I got those checks each week, including "back-pay" for the time period while I fought it.

So here's the question. And yes... I'm asking.

I didn't want to leave my job. It doesn't matter that they worked me too much... I had no intention of leaving that job for quite a while. I wanted my boss' job. After that... I wanted the next boss' job. I planned to stay.

Should I visit with a lawyer?

Terry... revisited.

So. Autopsy results today.

Seems Michael was right and her Mom and Dad were wrong. Oh. And the Congressmen (congresspeople?). And the Senators. And the President.

I don't see them jumping up and down to mention that little fact.

Monday, June 13, 2005


Not Guilty, on all accounts.

I really am surprised.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

I just don't get it...

Why do certain people feel the need to trash other people, and sometimes their families, when they don't even know them?

What is it about that?

So. We don't agree philosophically. We don't agree ideologically. We don't agree politically.

So what?

Agree with my post, disagree with my post, whatever! But that doesn't give you the right to trash me and or my family (dead or alive) simply because you disagree with me.

One might suggest posting a comment. Another might suggest that you STOP READING MY BLOG.
Just so's you know... I am not talking about anyone that has ever posted on this blog... up to now. There is a gay-terrorist out there (not one I've previously posted on) that reads other peoples blogs and either shits on them in their comment sections, or goes back to his own blog and shits on them.

Good gods, man. Get a life, pick yourself up, and stop blaming others for your own birth defects. (oh... and just in case you show up here, I don't think being deaf is a birth defect. I find it rather appealing in a partner. But having read your blog over the last six months or so... I just know you will decide that I hate gay deaf people. Too bad you couldn't be further from the truth.)

-- To any regular readers, I know this post is rather cryptic... I'll explain later.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Memorial Day Weekend

I wrote this post the other day, got half way through it, saved it as a draft and *poof* it disappeared. Hence, the post directly below this one.
So last Friday, theHusband and I left work early to go camping down south. He was supposed to leave work earlier than me, get home and get the truck packed, and when I got home, we'd be on our way. Long before most of you even get off work. As per usual, it didn't work out that way.

TheHusband got distracted, left work later than intended, and (as per usual) got distracted on his way home. He is your typical guy that will be late for his own funeral. Certain things have to be done to prepare for going away for the weekend. TheHusband has never learned that lesson. Never. Ever.

I had enough laundry done. I had our bags packed. All I had to do was re-check the cat's box, their food, their water, grab my suitcase, and jump in the truck. By the time I got home from work, everything else, to include the cooler, would be in the truck so we could just get on the road. We'd be traveling by 2:30, missing most of the traffic getting out of town.

I got home at 2:15, with no Husband in sight. I called. He stopped at the store for some reason. Five minutes later, I called him back. One of our cats had been in a small fight a few days earlier, and now had a massive lump under her neck. At 2:45, I called a vet nearest our new neighborhood. They could squeeze her in. I was there in five minutes. TheHusband met me there, but I told him to go home and pack the truck. I got out at 4:00. She'd be fine, but we'd have to take her with us. She needed medication all weekend and some tender loving care. Much to her chagrin. She hates to travel in the car, and hates even more to be in a house that isn't "hers".

We are on the road at the height of Friday afternoon traffic, as theHusband was still not ready when I got home. Yea!! The typical 2/12 hour trip took us almost four hours. We missed Friday night bingo at the campground. I hate missing Bingo at the campground.

Before you all get on me... it's not a big deal, and I know it. It's just that it sets the tone for the entire "relaxing" weekend that we are supposed to be having. I'm a planner. I plan. I set a schedule. When it doesn't get followed for other than unusual circumstances such as an emergency trip to the vet, then I get upset. Then everything afterwards pisses me off.

Same thing happens, smaller scale on for the trip home. We discuss it on Sunday. Early to bed, early to rise, pack the truck, get on the road, get home, unpack and do the laundry, relax, back in bed early for the shortened week work. What a joke.

TheHusband stays up too late drinking (normally wouldn't care, we aren't driving anywhere when we are camping), so that means he sleeps in the next day. At 9:00, I finally give up. I start getting ready. Loudly. Didn't matter, he continued to sleep through it. Eventually, he got up, and we were on the road around noon. Which, in all honesty, was fine. We were home by 3:00, I did the laundry and he took a nap. Then his nephew called.

Want's directions to the new house. He's coming to stay with us for a week or two. Oh. Okay. Uhm... great! I like the kid, actually. Closest thing we are going to have for our own child in this state. He lived with us for a while when he was 15. What a time that was, remind me to tell you about that sometime.