Livin' Thru!

The time has come for me to get back on track and interject this blog with some of seriousness and purpose that I originally intended.

So I would like to discuss my thoughts, feelings and fears about being a person living with HIV. But, don’t worry I’ll try to infuse my journey with my patented brand of humor.
It’s funny how the best part of my diagnosis is also to me the hardest part. Three years ago when I found out my HIV status, I was just getting my yearly check up and like always I took the HIVtest.

Well not only did I find out I was positive, my T-Cells were pretty much in the toilet, yet I was not sick. I didn’t even have a hint of a cold. So here I was feeling in perfect health yet on paper it looked really bad. So bad in fact I had to begin the meds regimen right away. The only way I could describe how I felt mental is to refer to it as a "total mind fuck." And all the doctors’ would reassure me by saying "Remember that you are not dying of AIDS, but living with HIV. This was the last thing I really needed to hear. Granted the doctors meant well, but finally I just snapped at one of them and made like Lynn Redgrave in one of her 80's Weight Watchers commercials and scream "This is Living?!?!"

At the time, only my friends Oliver & Amanda knew what I was dealing with and I was in no position mentally to let my immediate family in on my dilemma.

When I was prescribed the med cocktail of Combiver in the morning and Combiver & Sustiva in the evening, I was made full aware of the side effects that may occur. So I decided to being the regimen on a Friday night so at least I would have the weekend to work through any of those possible side effects.

Luckily the only side effect that I experienced was vomiting. Unfortunately though that Sunday we had a big family get together celebrating Mimi’s 90th birthday. So during the course of the party I made several trips to the bathroom. Alas, my trips fell under the radar of my noisy family (especially Netty) du to the fact that my Uncle Barry was dating this woman who was known for stocking her purse with a few or few dozen nip bottles. So no one paid any attention to how many trips I was making the powder room. All the attention was focused on the girlfriend. I should’ve sent Uncle Barry a "Thank You" card for his impeccable taste in women.

Well now the hard part is over and everyone in my family who "needed to know" is aware. I put "needed to know" in quotes because while I did agree with the doctors’ that everyone did not need to know, there were certain people who did. I mean to this day I’ve been lucky HIV wise and had never been sick, not even the sniffles, but I felt that God forbid something did occur and my immediate family was not aware of my status, it would be too hard to deal with something like this all at once. That way any anger, sadness and/or hostility could be taken in small doses and we could move onto the next dilemma.

I do understand that it is defiantly hard on my reserved non-progressive parents to have a son with HIV. When I was just dealing with the HIV and not the seizures & other dramas, my father would only ask about my health when he had a few beers in him, but he is better about talking to me now. Netty on the other hand needs to be occasionally reminded the only days, I will not discuss my health on my birthday or Christmas.

Now I am working on the next obstacle of living with HIV. And that is dating and meeting new people. For a couple of years I did shut myself of from the outside world, except for family, friends & co-workers. Now I am trying to push myself back out there. When chatting with new people especially prospective dates, I tell them right off the bat or at least at the beginning stages of getting to know someone, even though I don’t really need to disclose my status right away. I just don’t want them to find out down the line and have the feeling of being misled or betrayed. Ok, That’s a crock of shit. I tell people right away because I want to protect myself. There is still a lot of prejudice about HIV and I don’t to want to get too emotionally involved with someone only to have my heart torn out. This way if they know at the beginning and have a problem with it, they can just go screw themselves and not me.

Hopefully if any of my readers are dealing with the HIV issue can read this post and relate but also laugh a little bit knowing that there is some out there who knows what they are going through. And also know if someone like me can go through it and still get up each morning with the same drive and determination for living, anybody can do it.

The Joy Of NetFlix -- Why Do I Love The Movies I Love?

I have finally experienced the joys of NetFlix. You see if there was a movie I wanted to see I would just go to Target or Newbury Comic and buy. However now that I am in a state of unemployment, I really need take better control of my finance.

Plus, while my DVD collection is quite large, it just seems the same 20 or so DVDs are always playing. Like the movies on my "Movies I Love" list located to the right of the blog. But there are just some movies I enjoy but they are not ones I would want to watch over and over.

For example, I just bought Before The Devil Knows You’re Dead & The Brave One. While both were terrific movies, how many times can you really watch Philip Seymour Hoffman bare-asked backdoooring Marisa Tomei with her titties flapping or Jodie Foster in The Brave One playing it straight and straighten out the NYC thugs by gunning them down. Honestly!

But, I can watch Faye Dunaway as Joan Crawford slap the shit out of Diana Scarwid in Mommie Dearest or Elizabeth Taylor & Richard Burton try to out wit and out drink each other in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, hundreds of times . Go Figure!

What's In A (Nick)Name?

I recently had feedback about the nickname’s I use in my blog. Reader were surprised we would call my mother, Annette, Netty; as well as calling our grandmother Mimi.
But you see kids, I have a God given right to call friends & especially family nicknames! Because very rarely am I'm NEVER called by my Christian name, Kevin. While I previously discussed the mean spirited & negative names I’ve been , I will now list the names I am affectionately referred to by family and friends. If memory serves I will give a little anecdote of how the nickname came about.

First, we will start with the one that started it all. As far back as I can remember, my ball busting Uncle Barry gave all the 8 grand kids a nickname. I can’t recall the other 7 kids’ names, maybe it was due to the nickname never stuck to them as well as a one would to me. That nick name was ‘Niffer".. When I was little I was "Little Niffer’ and as I grew I graduated to "Big Niffer".

Then there was the nickname I was appointed to by my grandfather (Mimi's husband), Papa. Papa would always refer to me as "The Scooch". "Scooch" was Italian for "pain in the ass". Well, I guess I did deserve that title, since I was the one that clogged the toilet with too much toilet paper on Christmas Day. Papa, with the reserve Italians are known for, proceeded to throw me out of the house and sent me home.

After Uncle Barry relinquished his crown as the family name caller, my older brother Sean took over the throne. The next few names were appointed to me by him.
First there was "Nookie". I got this name as a small child because I was always watching Sesame Street. For those old enough can recall there was a segment on the show where a cartoon typewriter would give the view a word of the day. When this typewriter would enter and exit the screen he sing a little ditty, "Noonie, Noonie, Noonie". My brother used to pin me to the ground and squeeze my nose until I chanted the typewriter’s song, because evidently I sounded just like the type writer when I did. That is how "Nookie" evolved and to this day I am usually still called, but with out the wrestling match.

Then there were the two nicknames in one. In my parents’ archive of photos there were several of me at the age of 2 or 3 where I was sporting a big red Afro. Yes, I was the whitest kid with the reddest hair on the block & I had an Afro. Yet calling "Curly" just was not creative enough for Sean. Being that it was the mid 80's and the show Dallas and JR Ewing was at their pinnacle. Sean decided the better nickname would be "Curly KR". So that nickname stuck for a while.
The last name Sean created for me came during the night we spent at Mimi’s and we were lying in bead talking. Sean was inquiring that when I got old if I were to have kids what should the kids call me. Well Sean felt "father", "dad", or "daddy" were not appropriate enough. So as I was about to fall asleep., he shook me and yelled out "How about "Pappy". Of course this name stuck and I was referred to as "Pappy" for a time.

And those are the nicknames I have been appointed over the years. While none have stuck as well as the previous mentioned "Nookie", I have a feeling new one's will be appointed. Sean's daughter, Kendall, inherited the knack for name calling. We were playing school one day and naturally I was the teacher. Kendall did not think calling me Mr. Brady was creative enough, so she came up with the original, "Mr. Bachagaloop". Which I am stilled by my niece no matter how many time I remind then school is over.