On Being Sick
I went out for a walk on Monday, enjoying the last week of my holidays, and running across K Rd I pulled my right calf muscle. It hurt like hell, but I tried to pretend it didn't. Same thing happened about 5 years ago. So I've been laid up, resting my leg, in a compression bandage, icing it the first day or two, the usual stuff. It will heal, and I will be ok in time. The frustrating thing is that I'm not actually sick - just unable to do normal things, like go for a walk or a drive, or cut the grass, have a hot fuck, and enjoy my holiday. It made me think back to when I was really sick, back in the 90s, about 20 years ago in 1995 I had AIDS and was expected to die. My specialist at the hospital told me I had about a year to live. I was in a hospice for people with AIDS. I weighed about 50kgs - I couldn't walk more than a couple of metres. I shat my bed often because I couldn't get to the toilet. I couldn't breather without an oxygen tank. I'd eat,...