Ready to die?

OK went to today appt at the doctor. I got really fuckin smashed along the way (um, mainly afterwards). 

OK, so I get in only 10 minutes late from the 4pm when he comes out to get me. Mind you, the guy before me looked pretty tragic. He must have looked amazing before he got sick. He looked like about my age I suppose, but had that face thing happening of the sunken near death look. He'd made an effort though and you'd not have noticed it unless you knew about the condition (loss of fat in the face). So yeah he was in there for 20 minutes, and it looked like just a run of the mill regular thing.

My GP is a major person in the HIV treatment world here in Sydney. I may be wrong but that's the impression I get. I only started seeing him as the doctor, as my psychologist referred me to him. The doc I was referred wasn't available. So I saw another temp guy there. He was so nice eh. I was actually wanting a gay friendly doctor as I'd gotten a bit carried away about a month before at Kens (shut now) where a novice wasn't experienced at fisting and didn't use enough lube. 

It seemed like a particlularly good idea at the time, but there is a fine line between pleasure and pain; and sometimes the pleasure in the moment far outweighs/compliments the pain. You worry about any damage later. This was the worst man, a tear in the anus that was starting to get a touch infected. I tried with the usual gay ass purge for ass betterment (healing after the painful/fabulous expansion) but the usual shit didn't work so well this time. It was the tempt doctor above that I saw about it, and he was the one to refer me my HIV GP now. 

Yeah, and the HIV GP has seen up my asshole in the healing process after that, so there's nowhere he hasn't see now. Anything I tell him after that is nothing. He knows I'm a bit of an extremist!

So I see that doc this afternoon at 4pm.......

It was a brilliantly quick visit! Oh I so hate those long drawn out affairs where the visit just goes on and on about fuck all. Sometimes I write a list if it's more than a couple of things I'm seeing him about so we can just get together and not fuck both our times around. It was pretty much all over in a glorious 5 minutes! I nearly fuckin blew.

So I go into see him, sit down, crap on with the pleasantries for a few seconds, and then "I'm just here for the blood test".

We sit there chatting whilst he presses a few buttons on the keyboard as he instructs the printer next to the screen to print out the appropriate form for me to sign, bla. I say "I think I want to go on medication now, I'm sick of worrying about it. I will have to eventually, so I might was well do it now" (that's a summary). He listened......

Then I said how tired I was all the fuckin time. Fuck, last night I couldn't stay awake at this fuckwit moronic time, of about 5pm. Everything hurt after the evening meal. I couldn't stay wake on the chair. I went to bed. It was way more comfortable than the chair I was falling asleep in.

This doesn't happen on the odd occasion, it's pretty much nearly every night now. It may be later (all of about 7 maybe!) and then it kicks off. It's a major obstacle in wanting to socialise as most of the events start after 9pm; my social life is carking it darlings... A tragic state of affairs.

He said basically "we'll take blood!" and agreed with me about the fatigue thing and as I know him now I could tell he thought that that wasn't a good thing to have at all that made you go to bed at 5pm like a fuckin 80 year old pensioner. Crucify any social life at 50. 

I saw him at a meeting I went to recently. The one with the drag queen Vanessa Wagner and nurse nancy. A discussion with a panel of experts. He got there with people and they called him up; when it came time he was on the panel of experts. I was amazed.

Bloke next to me was madly writing notes about the discussion with this panel of experts. At some point (after he raved bizarrely about my doc) I said that "He's my GP". I was drinking beer. He wasn't and appeared to be keeping count of my debauched beer intake. He replied "How did he become your GP? He's so knowledgeable!" I forget what happened after that. He went off for a while somewhere leaving his notepad.  

OK. Got into this thought after today's doc visit. What if this is it? What if I'm so tired because the viral load has gone up and my CD4 count's down? What if it was so bad that they actually gave a time frame of when I might likely die continuing like this? How would I fell? Would I choose death or life? It's a hard choice.

Haven't feared death since 2006. I sat holding the hand of the love of my life as she breathed the last. I'd have been very happy to go with her at that moment. And I guess many after. Miss her a lot. Promised I be here for our daughter though. That's fine. I'll wait.

But other than that, yeah, I'm well and truly ready to die. Had more pain in one life than I dunno how many. I'm staying here now for my daughter. But beyond that, I'm finished with this shit.

Update:

Have noticed this post is suddenly getting a lot of views. No idea why. I would like to comment though after reading through it, that life does  go on and things do  get better, as cliché as that may sound. Since this post I've met David and fallen in love again, something that I'd never have expected.

In fact, after looking further, turns out I met David only three weeks after writing this post.