He's got a museum piece to give

Horses for courses

Jonah Falcon does conjure up the image of the whale and Jonah in the bible, only that there is something of the whale about Jonah rather than the whale swallowing him. Apparently, Jonah Falcon came to international attention with the claim that he has a 13.5-inch (34 centimetre) penis when fully erect.

Not that this has been independently verified, but the claim to fame stands that he has offered to donate his organ to the Icelandic Phallological Museum upon his death, and therein might we possibly ascertain whether the claim fits then myth.

A gift adrift

Obviously, my interest is completely nonchalant for there is only an extent to which being well-endowed might be a treasure until it becomes a burden. In the case of Mr Falcon, I am fully persuaded that his appendage does belong in a museum as the narrative suggests when it comes into its own the blood needed to keep it useful causes light-headedness that might make the person useless in that department, except where a second heart with a separate blood system exists to augment supply.

The legend goes that he once was a person of additional security scrutiny because of the bulge in his pants. Not that it proves anything and this is not a descent into penis envy, because its utility is of paramount importance, else we are just left with a mere curiosity and nothing more.

We must agree, that this material extension regardless of when it is excised does belong in a museum, or can be endowed to probably a few males in the quest for the gift of length in an area where other remedies tend to the snake oil variety.

Blog - Hello Dr Dick, my friends need a ...

That’s begging to be human

In his own words, he says, “I don’t need a fancy car, I don’t need a gun… because I do not have to prove my masculinity to anyone else, I’ll wear all pink, dammit!” Au contraire, my friend, that is not proof of masculinity as we do not normally determine it by trouser snake yards, it is more equine or cetacean than hominid.

Finally, as if one cannot be twice afflicted by gift and name, no one has surmised whether as in falconry when the falcon lands on the gloved arm, the girth of you know what is anywhere close to where the excitement is the onset of a fainting spell. We are fascinated but not interested enough to want to see more than we have been told.

Courtesy, The Week 18/09/21 Issue 1349

Chemotherapy was taking death to gain life

There is a delay

Five days before, I was put on ARVs and today, the Monday, 12 years ago, I was preparing for my first session of chemotherapy which was to be administered in the morning. The hours of the morning past and no one had come to collect me, I was waiting for chemo.

It was three hours later that I was wheeled in my bed to the oncology ward, the drug was attached to the cannula and the war against cancer wherever it might be in my body had begun. One hour, it took for the bag of reddish fluid ensconced in aluminium foil to drain into my veins.

Death and life in Caelyx

In my condition, I did not have an immune system to fight infection, that had been crippled by HIV, then chemotherapy was literally going to trash it completely. Even if the option presented itself, I did not have the presence of mind to reserve my sperm as this episode was going to make me infertile. I guess when your life is under immediate threat, you can’t be thinking of procreation.

Then, I was told this particular drug, liposomal doxorubicin (Caelyx) does not have the side effect of the loss of hair, not that I had any to lose. The aftermath of the chemotherapy was I felt bloated, it was considerable discomfort and It did not feel like it was gaseous or maybe I was too constipated for it to pass through my system.

An untouchable, I became

I returned to the ward to find out that they have put up a cordoned, not hermetically sealed, but it was indicative of me presenting a chemical hazard to anyone who approached me. Cytotoxicity being the issue, the chemotherapy whilst it killed cancer cells, also killed living cells and so it was dangerous for anyone to come in contact with any of my bodily fluids for the next 5 days.

Blog - A life of cytostatic ostracism

Through the 7 sessions of chemotherapy that I had every third Monday with a blood test the Friday before to determine how I was tolerating the treatment, after that, it was the complete absence of strength in the second to the fourth day and the emesis that got the better of me. It got to a point, I just could not keep my food down. They had something for that too.

After cancer to the future

Now, these have become stories, memories to recall and a sense of gratitude for having come through such an ordeal. Then I say, the medical cure of cancer sending it into remission is probably just part of the story, going back to life after cancer presents what I called the long tail of cancer. I lost everything, everything except hope, that was the only building block I had left to start life over again.

Blogs - The Cancer Tales (2009)

Lids on leads to Leeds

Training the eye and more

From 10 floors up, I watch the platforms of the main train station, 6 of the platforms are visible from my vantage point of observation, the ones not obscured by the canopy roofs. The local, regional and intercity trains ferrying people to and from all cardinal points and in-between, far and near.

Arriva Trains Northern, TransPennine Express, Cross Country, and LNER Azuma trains, roll in and out of the station gathering or losing speed as they come or go. Their differing lengths like worms or snakes are streamlined as if they could go at double their maximum speed, but compared to European trains, we might complete a sprint in the time they have done a marathon and collected their medals. As for cost, we live in rip-off Britain. Cargo trains rarely stop, slithering through at a pace you might outrun before you have no more energy to keep up.

We move, we disapprove

I could say, Leeds leads to anywhere your heart desires, to coasts and cities, to work or to your, for a holiday if you have chosen Monday to start it or just for a day out if you have that pleasure. The people wait watching the clock and the indicators against the expected times of arrival and departure, some standing still others in a form of loitering to prevent the semblance of interminable time.

They disembark and embark, if I opened my window, I might hear the public address Tannoy announcing destinations or arrivals to certain platforms or platform changes along with the inane general information on safety and security ending with the almost inspired; “See it, Say it, Sorted.”

Some apparatchik might have considered themselves worthy of a Pulitzer Prize for coining that phrase, it might have come up in committee, but you can say, one is quite unimpressed. Yet, that message has stuck not out of interest, but of utter irritation at pablum.

It has got my goat

Obviously, if I or anyone else saw something amiss or wrong, we will report it, do we really need to be told like people lacking in insight or initiative. Rather just give us information of who to call to report to, than padding out the message with a surfeit of patronising speech. We would all have a tendency to switch off from the lack of originality and repetition of silly and unhelpful messages.

Whatever focus group that was tried on must have been overly excited to be asked that their objectivity and focus was subsumed.

Leeds arrivals and departures at 15:10 (Click to enlarge.)

Coronavirus streets in Leeds - XLVI

Waterways and memories

Out of my hotel, I veered left and round the back over the road and I was on the Leeds & Liverpool Canal and about to ply the Aire Valley Towpath that I last walked some 5 years ago. I might have taken more advantage of the sunny day, but I lazed in bed catching up on some much-needed sleep that I did not get out until well after 5:00 PM.

Memories distilled from the past into my mind, the recollection of things I gave a fleeting glance and of events that have left too much of a mark that they cannot be forgotten. From the centre of Leeds that canal runs on a higher plain under much human control and was used for the transport of goods and materials in industrial times. Now, leisurely or homely narrow canal boats use it, navigating 91 locks. 

Lower down to right, some 50 metres away as one bears west of Leeds is the River Aire, untamed and unruly, prone to flooding, unnavigable for commercial purposes and a work of nature in its awesome display. I would surmise the river provided power and the canal, transportation.

Paths lonely and free

The towpath was quiet with not that many walkers, a few joggers, some walking their dogs, and then the cyclists. It brought to mind the refrain of the song Lonely Road, by Christy Essien Igbokwe from her album, Ever Liked My Person? The general lyrics of the song I cannot recall, nor could I find an online transcription of it.

Lonely Road - Christy Essien-Igbokwe

One dog walker could not be bothered to look where she was going, she was ensconced in her phone, her dog basically becoming like a guide dog for the blind. Others I saw, we being strangers, might mutter a greeting to each other or at the very least diffuse the tension suggesting one is not hostile with a smile.

Apparently similar or similarly apparent

The canal is also part of the coast-to-coast canoe trail from Goole to Liverpool, called the Desmond Family Canoe Trail. About 6 kilometres into my walk at which point, I turned back on myself as the light was fading too, I saw six horses in a field across over the canal running about free in a field with trees.

Down at Kirkstall (Kirk is colloquial for church, I think) at The Ellers were noticeboards facing the canal with sayings and one I took for a time of reflection. “Don’t treat people as bad as they are, treat them as good as you are.” I guess I have some work to do regarding my attitude to some people.

Two men working on a canal boat acknowledged me on my way out then engaged me on my way back. He said, “You remind me of Chris Eubank.”, I said, “I hear that a lot.” Then he hoped I was not offended, I wasn’t, it is just that I was just in exercise apparel and again something found some similarity. His regional accent, I could understand, from another couple, I just chuckled rather than request an encore with an interrogative pardon.

Just over 12 kilometres later, I was back at the hotel, I expect to have a really relaxing and restful night too.

Coronavirus streets in Manchester & Leeds - XLV

Many a gory Tory here

One is glad to desert Manchester for a week as a brief walk around a section of the city around the Manchester Convention Centre gave much meaning to that situation beyond other extenuating circumstances, the police and cordons laid out to insulate the ruling party from its public and the vehemence of misgovernment.

The Tories are coming to Manchester for their annual convention and what an inconvenience it would be to all but the ones in the thrall of Boris Johnson whilst celebrating the apparent successes of Brexit which are patently invisible to most except those with impaired eyesight.

Leading to Leeds

Meanwhile, on a train to Leeds, the rain simply followed relentlessly on a journey that was as uneventful as to be recorded in sleep. Of all of us on my coach, only two of us donned face masks. We are all letting our guard down and this pandemic is hardly over. The UK retained the highest number of new cases worldwide and we are still ahead of our European neighbours in the number of deaths due to COVID-19. [WorldInfoMeters: Coronavirus]

I was last in Leeds just the week before I lost my baby sister, now coming to 5 years. The same hotel, some excuses that I overlooked until I went to the bar and was left feeling quite irked by the time I got to check-in my room.

Oh yes, it’s ladies’ slight

Later, when I went shopping for a few morning goods, the ladies were all more exposed yet bedecked like for a Cinderella summer ball except if I am unaware of some invisible thermal garments to help keep them from freezing in the cold and rain. Their slipper heels as unsteady as walking a rope bridge buffeted by winds strung over a ravine infested with hungry crocodiles in a river last rowed centuries ago.

Obviously, the reference to dress, apparel and appearance is oblique, one for which commentary should be reserved apart from thinking, surely more could be done. Anyway, the pandemic is the last thing on their minds much as hen nights seem to have chosen Leeds for revelry and unspeakable acts of wanton and reckless expression. It’s in the air, maybe no one is breathing it.

How I battled HIV stigma

In our silence of old

I saw the stigma that came with contracting HIV and met many people some of whom were my friends deserted by family and fair-weather friends to die in isolated or lonely hospices, taking that last gasp until they could hold on no more.

For many, they already faced the prejudice and discrimination for their sexuality, just as laws were being enacted for equal opportunities that stated the letter and for which there was no spirit to adhere to them. I had friends who were kicked out of their homes, sacked from jobs, banished from close-knit societies, and excommunicated from religious communities, disinherited, and shunned as if they were dead to the living. It was tough.

Then in the homosexual community, there is another kind of ostracism, the divide between those who were living like there was no tomorrow and those for whom tomorrow gave no assurance that they would still be living. Visceral hatred and abandonment in our already traumatised community, it was rotten.

My tests and my counsel

I took many HIV tests for years but gave instructions that I did not want to know the results. My results probably went into a study and since the test was at the insistence of the health and social workers, it was like I had no skin in the game, my curiosity did not lean towards knowing as if I found a world of bliss out of my ignorance.

When I did eventually go all in to find out about my status, I already suspected I had contracted HIV, but could not tell for how long. I should have curated the people to tell and not many knew, besides my pastor and a few close friends. One unguarded slip to an acquaintance I once had to kick out of my home some years before, brought vituperation, nastiness, and abuse. I ignored him even if I pretended not to be affected by his onslaught.

Battles with ignorance and denial

I had to face the stigma in myself first before I could tackle it from the outside. I am entirely responsible for my condition regardless of the backstory that might have made me susceptible to the misuse and abuse of sex. Are you so loose? That was the question from the matriarch, 19 years after the fact.

Blog - Thought Picnic: We Never Knew What a Healthy Sexual Relationship Was Because ...

It was one thing to know what condition you had, but that is quite different from understanding how it might have a consequential impact on everything that pertains to you; you can conflate denial with false invincibility and by the time you know it, you are knocking in death’s door.

HIV coursed through my body for 7 years from when I got the test results until opportunistic infections came in what looked like a wave of infirmity starting with shingles, but I was quite so immunosuppressed, what looked like athlete’s foot towards the end of spring was Kaposi sarcoma, and AIDS-defining symptom that was also cancer.

Deflecting out of embarrassment

Cancer was easier to use as a cover for everything else. I knew, my doctors knew I had full-blown AIDS, anyone else was informed I had cancer and as the treatment for Kaposi sarcoma included chemotherapy, it was just as cancer and cancer should be, there was no need to talk about HIV or AIDS. I had to grow into becoming comfortable writing, discussing, or sharing about it.

I guess it got to a point where I understood that HIV could be treated as a chronic condition quite manageable with the right therapies. Those of us living with HIV coalesced and began to give our voice to be active and contributing members of our broader community banishing the old pictures of young men dying to memorials that we still revere. Those gone before are all part of the body of knowledge and truth that has given us better outcomes.

We began to address HIV stigma

The concept of ‘Clean’ became a byword for not being HIV+, liaisons would ask if you were clean and by extension suggesting you were dirty if you were HIV+. Yet, people who know they are HIV+ probably test more frequently, are under medical supervision, and when on ARVs would most likely have an undetectable viral load. The frequency of testing also means they detect sexually transmitted infections earlier before the situation becomes chronic and get effective treatments and cures.

Blog - Dealing with sexuality and HIV stigma

Whenever anyone asks whether I am clean, I say, “Clean is when you have had a shower.” It should not refer even remotely to sexual health.

When medical science determined having an undetectable HIV viral load meant there was minimal risk of transmitting the virus, we saw the advent of the U=U (Undetectable Equals Untransmittable)

Blog - Normalising HIV Challenge against stigma

What I could have lost

My journey from talking about cancer alone to talking openly about being HIV+ with an undetectable viral load was one of development and growing self-confidence along with the desire to live my own life boldly without fear, shame, or embarrassment.

The deeper story of how my cancer was as a result of full-blown AIDS belies the fact that I had foolishly not addressed the issue early enough, hoping that some miracle and sudden change of fortunes would take everything away. I was in presumptuous denial of an existential threat to my life.

Blog - When I had the murderous cancer of denial

A miracle cure would not have served me well, and though I would have had a testimony of the power of God, I would have been excused from the human experience of knowing adversity and coming through it with my own story of life and gratitude.

This is who I am

Not that I wish adversity on anyone as a form of teaching lessons in life, but when one is met by misfortune and the acceptance of the reality of things we can control and the other things completely outside our control, we can face what is ahead of us and if good fortune brings us out to the restoration of wellness, verve, and vigour, we might find new meaning to the story of life.

I am HIV Positive, it did lead to full-blown AIDS, I had competent medical intervention that rolled back the grip of death, sent my HIV viral load to undetectable, gave me healthy prospects in life and the opportunity to find a new purpose in the joy of living. I will not be ashamed of those facts and the stigma of a projection of those whose ignorance I can help no further by allowing them to define me.

I saw this on a dating profile, years ago, “In a perfect world, the positive would be open and the negative would be open-minded.”

The Stigma Project

We can treat this

Commending medical advances

Confidence without a tinge of arrogance or boasting, just a good sense of understanding the situation and how to deal with it is one of the far-reaching lessons I learnt about the Dutch medical establishment, specifically related to my situation.

I qualify this because whilst I had the onset of AIDS presenting as cancer, some other close friends who had been diagnosed with different kinds of cancer did not make it. It was September, Dick came to visit me at home after I returned from hospital in October, that was when I last saw him, we spoke sometime in January, and he was gone by the 2^nd of February.

Marcella, a very gregarious and generous Dutch-Indonesian, I had seen in August when she persuaded me against my inclinations to attend a party at her place. I was in pain that she shared some of her painkillers with me. She had had cancer which had gone into remission, but it returned aggressively in the New Year and by October, she was gone too.

It is against this backdrop that I appreciate everyone who has ever faced cancer, because whether we live or die, their medical experience redounds to the body of knowledge that helps to define outcomes for others. Hopefully, better outcomes too. To all who have had that human cancer experience, I am exceedingly grateful.

Life or just 5 weeks

For instance, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, the internationally renowned Nigerian musician died of an AIDS-defining disease presented as Kaposi sarcoma, 12 years before I had the same condition, and I cannot speak for the kind of medical opportunities he had then. Kaposi sarcoma lesions were for the while definitive of the onset of AIDS and it was a downward spiral from then on.

Blog - Remembering Fela (1938 - 1997) through our shared history of AIDS

However, when the professor visited my beside the day after I was put on ARVs and suggested the treatments offered theretofore were not producing the desired outcomes, he had a new plan of action and with confidence he said, “We can treat this …”, the only caveat was whether my body could tolerate the bombardment of chemotherapy, for if I could not tolerate the treatment, I only had 5 weeks at best.

Blog - Scuttling cancer with chemo

How I fared with chemotherapy

I was put on liposomal doxorubicin (Caelyx), all the basic information was given me some 4 days before my first session of chemotherapy, the only thing I was not told was about cytotoxicity, the fact that as the treatment killed living cells, anyone coming in contact with my bodily fluids, especially blood had to don biohazard clothing, and I was to be in an isolation cordon whilst in hospital.

I eventually had 7 sessions of chemotherapy on Mondays, 3 weeks apart, by the 3 session the cancer lesions had begun to disappear with the need to remove necrotised skin and allow fresh new pinkish skin to show. I tolerated it enough, though, by the fifth, I needed extra medication to deal with the emesis.

It was 12 years ago, when I was being informed of the decision to put me on chemotherapy that the consultant said, “We can treat this, it depends on how your body takes the treatment, if it takes, you’ll be fine, else you probably have five weeks to live.” That confidence added to my ability to see beyond the circumstances I was in.