My Third Shot

Here it is!  The third and final shot!

I got back from my trip and was ready for this last shot!

I went to the Center and checked in.  This time, Center Stage was playing.  I remember seeing that film in the theatres in New York when I lived there.  It's cute.  Not as good as The Company by Robert Altman (I've been on an Altman kick lately).

So this time the same nurse called me in.  We talked for a bit, then she gave me the shot on the left side.

I felt it immediately.  OW!  Somehow my left side is more sensitive than my right. I felt it go in.  I felt my ass tighten up.  I immediately had problems walking.

Got back to my car.  Slid inside and drove home.

I was on deadline, so I went back home and started working immediately.  I forgot to take the benedryl pills I usually take.

The next day passes and I wake up sorer than ever.  My back is even a bit sore.  I don't think these are flu symptoms, but then again I'm too busy to deal with it.  I have to get at least 20 pages of writing done today.

I'm sitting down at my desk and having a hard time working because my ass is so sore.  I work through the night, finishing at midnight.  Then I go to bed.

I have night sweats.  I'm hot, then cold.  I feel miserable.

Then I remember...the benedryl!  I take one.  Then try and go back to bed.

I wake up.  Take another.  I have slept horribly.  This is the worst!

Go back to bed.  Then wake up three hours later.  I have slept more and feel better, but I'm still having to be delicate getting in and out of bed.

Finally, the feelings start to dissipate.  My ass gets less sore on Thursday.  And by Friday, I'm totally good.

Thank God that didn't happen every week!  Yikes!

I feel like Susan Sarandon after chemo in Stepmom.  But not really.  If that's all that happened, then I'm cool.

But I'm not out of the woods yet.  I still have to abstain for another week.  And I have to go back in six weeks to do a check of my numbers.

Thank Goodness this part of it is over.  Now I can go back to being poked in the ass in a good way.

The Hook Up that Didn't Happen

Okay, so one small story about my trip to Northern California over a week ago.

I met a guy.  He was smart and sweet and funny.  He had a dirty streak.  He was clever.  In any other situation, we would have totally hooked up.

But we didn't.  Totally because of my syphilis.

We were flirty.  He knew I had a boyfriend.  But he seemed like he would have been cool with that.  That isn't why we didn't hook up.

In typical situations, I am like a dog with a bone.  I will make something happen if I like someone.  I go in for the kill.  I'm a closer.  I close the deal.  I would have found an opportunity to get him alone or something.  I like the thrill of the hunt.

But I didn't make the effort.

We did have cigarettes together.

And we talked about films and plays.

We even referred to one another as we were talking to friends.  Like we mentioned our conversations in other conversations.

But we didn't even kiss.

Am I regretful that nothing happened?  No.  I do actually think it will make us better friends.

We friended each other on Facebook.

I think it would have been fun.  I think he would have been killer in bed.  But I realize now that the fun and the conversation was enough.  And it might not have happened in the same way because I would have been distracted  by trying to do the cat and mouse thing.  Instead we did the "two adults talking thing."

We even walked around together the next day during this festival in the town we were staying in.

So I can't say I don't have great memories.  I can't say that it wasn't fun and flirty.

I just didn't have his dick in my mouth.

And surprisingly, it didn't take away from the experience.

I'm as shocked as anyone.

My Second Shot

It was time to go in for shot number two.

The first one was PAINFUL!  My ass was sore for days.  It was hard to walk for a few hours afterward.  But I didn't have any flu liked symptoms.  I popped a benedryl and seemed to be all right.

I went back to the Gay and Lesbian Center, checked in and waited around.  This time, Stepmom, the film with Julia Roberts and Susan Sarandon was on.  I had brought a biography of Robert Altman to read, but this film seemed a hell of a lot more interesting.  The film is about a couple who have been divorced.  The ex-wife finds out she has terminal cancer and realizes her ex's younger fiancé, is going to be the one raising the kids when she's gone.  A real tearjerker.  And perfect to distract me as I'm getting my second treatment to cure me of syphilis.

The thing about the center is that they call your name just to check the spelling of your name.  Meaning, they call you in for something, then they have to sit down again.  It's not like they call you once, get all the papers filed, give you the shot, then make you go home.  Here's what I mean.  I'm watching the movie...

Susan Sarandon and Ed Harris are the divorced couple.  She's found out she's got cancer, but she's not telling anyone.  So she's just being extra bitchy to Julia Roberts, which I have to admit is great.  She gets her daughter tickets to Pearl Jam because Julia suggested it, but she wants all the credit for it since she knows she's not going to be around forever.  (I could cry right now!)  Ed has already proposed to Julia...the two women become competitors.  Julia's actually nice, it's Susan that's the bitch.  Then--

They call me in.

"What's your birthdate?"  I tell the guy, this big burly black dude with a sweet face.

"Have you had any flu symptoms?"  No.

"Have you had any sexual contact?" No.

"Okay, that's all I need to know.  Go have a seat and they'll call you."  Disappointed, I go back to the waiting area.

Julia and the daughter are bonding.  Susan has to ask Julia to pick up her son from a birthday party because she's got an interview in the city.  Julia is driving, loses the hand written directions in the wind (this is how long ago the film was made), and calls the publishing house where Susan said she had her meeting.  The operator tells her that Susan hasn't been there since she quit 12 years earlier.  Julia's pissed and goes off on Susan.  Susan lights up a joint.  Tells Julia the truth.  Then she's got to tell Ed.  And they've got to tell the kids.  The boy cries.  The daughter's pissed.  Then they dance around in their PJs to "Ain't No Mountain High Enough".  Everything's better.  Julia's becoming a better mom, which both saddens and relieves Susan.  Julia's a photographer in this movie, so she--

My name gets called again.  Thank God!  I was about to cry.  I get up and meet the nurse.  We go over a few questions.  Then she asks me if I mind if the penicillin is cold.  I tell her no.  She says she has to leave the needle in there longer.  She offers to warm it up.  Then she sends me back out to the lobby.

Julia takes pictures of the kids and Susan in warm family moments.  Susan's sewing a memory quilt with the pictures.  Julia blows all of the pictures up and does cut outs.  Then Susan comes home from a particular hard trip to the hospital to see a memorial garden of all the pictures. 

She calls me back in.

We decide to do the second shot on the right cheek, since the first one was on the left.  She pokes me and then is done.  What?  The other guy took so much longer.  She says that everyone says that.  I make a joke about him wanting to look at my ass.  She doesn't laugh.  I pull my pants up and leave.

No Vacation Sex

I'm catching up on posting because I was out of town for five days, then I had a work project that came up.  So I'm going to try and catch up in "real time."

October 10, 2013

I'm out of town, visiting friends in Northern California.  Usually, the rule in our relationship is that if we're out of town, we can hook up with other people.  We have what you could call an open relationship.  Here are the rules:

• Oral and hand jobs only (this has included eating out - I like it, but the boyfriend doesn't).
• No anal.
• Gym hook ups are allowed.
• We talk about it.

Part of me was a little worried about how I would handle not being able to hook up.  I'm sure the boyfriend was wondering the same thing.  But here's the thing I didn't really know at the time: I'm not a sex addict.

I think it's a term that's thrown around a lot.  I do believe that some people are compulsive about having sex.  And I certainly have spent more time that I needed to looking for it.  But I'm not jonesing for cock.  Some guys get labeled a sex addict because they fuck around.  Hell, I think most guys do or want to.  I think it's a rare male bird that wouldn't fuck around on his wife or girlfriend if he had permission.  Breaking a marriage vow and being a sex addict are two separate things.  And in the gay community, that word is even taking on a certain connotation.  But since that term's in the zeitgeist, there have been times that I've wondered if that was what was going on for me.  Because I do have a big sexual appetite.  

But I have been abstaining and not having a huge problem with it.  I masturbate.  In the first three or four days of abstinence, I jacked off probably three times a day.  And it has evened off since then.  I've even had a few instances where I didn't jack off for several days.  

Since I have been near a college campus, I have definitely looked at hot guys.  But I haven't been tempted to visit a bathhouse or anything like that.  I did go to the gym, but not at a time when anything was going on.  It would have been fun to watch, but not necessary.  

I thought I would be missing out on something, but it turns out that I wasn't.  Maybe this is supposed to be a turning point for me.  My relationship to my libido is changing.  Who knew?

No Vices Left

• I had a good night's sleep.  
• My skin looks better than it has in a while.
• My bowel movements are good.
• I'm losing weight.

I'm feeling the positive effects of this forced cleanse where I'm not drinking alcohol or having sex.  I'm also getting a lot of writing done.

I am using this opportunity to eat better.  I'm starting out my day with oatmeal and almond milk.    I have been eating a lot of quinoa and brown rice with veggies and protein.  Trying to keep away from the processed foods.

I'm running every day.  And I try to get as much rest as I can.

I'm seeing this as an opportunity to decide how I want my physical life to be.  Because I had to cut out two vices, I'm living a healthier lifestyle all around.  I'm looking at the choices I make.

I had been thinking about giving up drinking for a while.  It doesn't seem to serve me in the same way when I was in my 20s.  But when I was in my 20s I was also about bad decisions.  Going home with a strange guy and waking up with a hickey on my shoulder.  Now I just have a sore ass from where the penicillin shot was.  Once when I did a major cleanse (not prompted by getting an STD), I gave up caffeine permanently.  I don't know if I'll give up booze, but I'm definitely not thinking I need to drink as much as I do.  I have a very good friend who has been going through a period of drinking a lot and finally gave it up because it was making him mean-spirited.

The funny thing is that I'm going to visit my friends Veronica and James this weekend who aren't drinking.  My friends Victor and Steve have also given up drinking for a while.  So this decision seems very much supported by my close friends.

I had started running again because I love to run.  It gives me life.  I need to do more cardio and it's an activity I love.  I also use the time to meditate on a phrase, a mantra if you will.

I'm going to sleep earlier because Keith has gone on tour.  So I don't keep a musician's hours and I'm in bed by 11 or 12 and up by 8 or 9.  I'm giving my body time to rest and recuperate from the exercise and from the writing I'm doing.

When you introduce good choices (or eliminate the bad ones), you make more good choices and even better ones.

Although I did have three cigarettes yesterday.  So at least I still have something to work on.

I'm going to a big pool party out of town this weekend.  I will be surrounded by very fit, hunky guys.  So that's an extra motivation.  I want my body to look as good as possible.  These guys do a major two hour boot camp every Saturday in addition to regular workouts.  So I'm not going to compete on that level.  But I don't want to show up all bloated and gross.  I might be doing a spiritual cleansing, but I'm still a pretty vain person.

On the Road Again

Keith headed back on tour.  What normally happens when Keith heads on tour is that we're both free to fool around with other guys.  Since I'm undergoing penicillin treatments for my syphilis, I won't be doing that.  And since he's still waiting to find out for sure if he has it or not, he won't be doing that either.

I suppose we could just watch other guys jack off and jack off with them.  That would technically be okay.

But I want to try something.  My friend Susan and I got on the phone the night Keith went out for two and a half weeks on tour.  The funny thing is that Keith is gone just about the exact amount of time I'll be abstaining from both booze and boys.  Oh, Universe...you are pretty clear when you are trying to send a message through.  I hadn't told Susan about the syphilis.  So we chatted about it and she said something interesting.  When she was single she had a lot of sex.  And she spent a lot of time focused on sex.  Looking for it, thinking about it, having it.

"You won't have your time eaten up so much by looking for or having sex."

I hadn't thought about the amount of time it takes to schedule a hook up either on Grindr or Craig's List or by cruising the gym or the Korean spa.  It does take a lot of time and energy.  And it's distracting.  I won't have that for the next few weeks.

So here's the question being posed:

How much of a role does sex play in my life?

I am still incredibly turned on and attracted to my boyfriend.  We have a hot sex life.  We also have a good amount of variety outside of our time together.  But I have noticed lately that there has been a struggle around how focused we are on each other.  There has been some jealousy lately over Taylor and the fact that I spend time with Taylor while Keith's out of town.  Although, for the record, Keith has hooked up with Taylor alone more than I have.

Not that anyone's keeping score, of course.  But Keith has an issue with it.  He thinks I'm trying to carve out some private time with Taylor.  But I could have said the same thing when I didn't have Taylor's cell number and when I was out of town they'd hook up.

My friend Victor said that it was becoming competitive and that we should cool off the time with Taylor, at least separate from each other.  And this was before I found out I had syphilis.  Vic was right.

And so was Susan.  Sex was taking up way too much time when I need to be focused on more important things like my career and my relationship.  So I decided that this would be a good time to look at how important sex is to me.

This time that Keith's on the road is a time for self-reflection and cleansing of certain behaviors.  I am going to treat it like a spiritual retreat of sorts.  I want to start looking at what is absolutely not necessary.

And I'm sure I'll have a lot more to say as time goes on.  But so far I'm only on Day 3.

Retribution

Check List:

• Got my diagnosis.
• Called my boyfriend.
• Called the other guy I've been fooling around with.
• Got my first treatment (out of three).
• Took the other guy to get tested.

Woke up the next day, back in the nook with Keith, my boyfriend.  Feeling like today might be a good day to get some work done.  Keith rolls over and asks me if I want to get breakfast.  Ooh, that sounds good.  A healthy breakfast to start the day.  He smiles and gets out of bed.

"Great.  Then we can stop at the center so I can get tested before."

Right.  See, I took Tyler to go get tested.  So it's only right that I go with Keith, my actual boyfriend while he gets tested.  But to be fair, Tyler doesn't have a car right now and I told him I'd take him.  And more accurately, he was just hitching a ride.  It's not that I don't want to take Keith or that I don't want to be supportive.  Of course, I have no problem going with him while he's getting tested.  But I wish he had just said, "Hey, can you come with me to get tested?"  Or:

• "You got me into this shit.  You're coming with me."
• "I could use the moral support."

But instead, I get a bait and switch.  Because on the way to the center, I innocently ask where he wants to go to get food.  "We'll see if we have time."  I hate the bait and switch.  Listen, I should go with you.  I would go with you.  But don't trick me into it.  And don't think that you have to trick me into it to get me to go.  It just seems a bit dishonest.

So we get to the center, he fills out the paper work and he goes and talks to a counselor.  He comes out with a lot of facts information.

• There's a 60 day incubation period.
• You get it from any kind of touch.
• He needs to get a shot anyway, as a precaution

And he's sulking.  "I can't believe I have to get a shot!  Even if I don't know if I have it or not.  They don't want me to wait.  And I don't even know what they're giving me!"  Amber alert.

"Penicillin.  They're giving you penicillin."

"Oh."  With all of that information, did they fail to mention that it's just penicillin?

"Are you allergic?"

"No."  Can we get lunch now?  I'm starving. 

I can't believe that I stayed as calm as I did, considering that I thought we were eating a couple of hours ago.  I'm crabby when I haven't eaten.  Crabby's actually too polite a word.  I'm a raving lunatic.  

So we drive back over the hill to where we live so we can eat nearby and so he can get to his drum lessons.  I understand that my boyfriend is frustrated that he has to get the shot.  But he's starting to freak out for no reason.  He doesn't need to go there.  I'm going through the same thing.  Maybe I need a little more support and consoling.  After all, Victor was the one who called me to see how it went.  Keith didn't call me to see how I was doing until much later.  But then I think he was just calling to see how much it hurt.

Keith's an amazing boyfriend.  But he's not always great in moments of crisis like this.  He wasn't good when my Dad died.  I give him a pass because he's still got a lot of issues with family since he was adopted.  I'm used to consoling myself, but it would be nice to get a little consoling from him.  He's a loving, caring boyfriend in every other way.  And he's totally obsessed with who I've told.  I told Steve and Victor.  I told my friend Susan.  I didn't tell my Mom.  I told my Brother.

"What did you brother say?"

My brother's field of expertise is infectious diseases.  He's a researcher.  I wasn't going to tell him because I was having a hard enough time as it was.  But of course he asked me how things were going.  And I couldn't lie.  So I told him.  And my brother said to me, "Don't ever not share things with me.  It sounds like you took care of it.  You're being responsible.  And you'll change your behavior if you need to.  Thank God it wasn't more serious."  And I told my friend Dave who's a priest and has been a mentor to me: "It's like a cold.  You're taking the penicillin and then it'll be out of your system."  I was getting a lot of support from these other people, but not as much from my boyfriend, who I know blames me for it.

I started thinking about this 60 day incubation period.  That would have put him on tour and me in Portland, visiting my brother.  I went to a bathhouse.  I could have gotten it there.  I start to feel bad.  Then I remember that Keith also went to bathhouses in Seattle and Vancouver, when he was on tour in the Northwest at the same time.  So actually, he could have given it to me as well.  I decide to hold on to this information if I need it.  No need to pick a fight now.

Of course, in my later research, I find out that the incubation can actually only be 1-3 weeks, which means there's a good likelihood I got it while he was out on tour this last time.  And that's fair.  I am not looking to place the blame on Keith.  I just wish he would acknowledge that either one of us could have passed it on.  But he's got this idea in his head because I'm more vocal and free about my sexuality, that some how that makes me dirtier than him and more at risk.  More dangerous and unsafe. But I know that I can be sexually liberated and totally cautious, which I am mostly.  

But Keith's still closeted to a bunch of people, including his parents.  And with that goes shame.  And I think there's some internalized homophobia going on there.  So when something like this happens, he blames the "gayer" of the two of us.  I'm not saying that I don't have blame.  But I wish he would acknowledge that there's no "gayer" one in this relationship.  We're both as gay as the other and we are both capable of giving an STD to the other.

But I decide not to unleash all of this on him.  I just pick up the tab for lunch.