From The Ashes ...

I Got Pox!

I'm saying monkey pox, but I'm not sure. Could be chicken. I prefer monkey. I noticed it first when my fever first hit. I had three zit-like bumps on my abdomen. I didn't really pay it any mind as at the time, I felt so bad I was hoping someone would casually walk up to me and split my skull open with an aluminum baseball bat. As my brain began to swell and ooze out the fracture onto the sidewalk I would have spit the blood pooling in my mouth and whispered "thank you". That's how bad I felt. In any case, by yesterday I was much improved and began getting ready to shower and work. When I took my blouse off and walked by a mirror is when I first discovered the horror. Pox! Pox everywhere. Down both arms, my torso and back are covered. I got pox on my scalp and forehead. Only a little pox on the face. Curiously, almost nothing below the waist. It's a prudish pox, it is. Positively no cock-pox. It's not itchy, and I've monitored it all day it's not spreading. I may have spread it, though. In spite of the occasional temperature spike I went to the Home Depot for Gays as well as Bed Bath and Beyonce. I took my pox along with me. I bought a room humidifier. The steam heat in my apartment is intense, to say the least. Between the cold weather and being sick and feverish, by the time I woke up yesterday and today, I felt like ferrets had snuck into my bed and reached down my throat with their tiny ferret feet and scratched and scratched until they left a red, raw mess inside. I had to hydrate my mouth a couple of times before I could manage to commit to a swallow (heh heh). If you were listening from the other room it sounded like I was getting slipped the pickle. I was drinking water.

I also brought my pox to the Laundramat. It was match the socks or throw them out day. Sadly four white and five dark socks met their end today. Someone should start a Sock Registry on-line. People from all over the world could post their single sock with a picture and a brief description. Other's could search the site until a sock match is made and eanie, meanie, chili-beanie a matching pair of socks is reunited.

I left a message with Mom and Dad telling them that I had been sick all weekend, but I was feeling much better, and I mentioned that I had the pox. I know I laughed on more than one occasion when leaving the message. Still, I decided to follow it up today and called while still in bed after my first morning cuppa. Mom inquired how I was and asked about the pox.

"I don't know Mom, it's pox. Like chicken pox, it looks like that. It doesn't seem to be getting any worse and I feel so much better I'm not really concerned."

"Is it because of your condition?"

"Maybe. Or I maybe caught a pox from some sniveling brat on the subway."

"Cause your father and I were thinking it was that skin thing that people with your condition get."

"Ma, you were afraid I have Kaposi's ?"

"Well, we were worried."

"That's not pox, that's cancer. I don't have cancer. Most HIV+ people never contract Kaposi's anymore. I mean, anything's possible, but not with my TCell count or viral load. I guess if you totally roll over and refuse to take meds and let yourself get taken you might develop it. I got red bumps all up and down my upper body. You know. Pox."

I don't regret telling the family I was HIV+ on my last trip home (and I owe you that story in it's entirety), but I knew the other edge of that double-edge would be how carefully I dole out information. Not the least bit surprisingly, I say pox, they hear cancer.