…of the past little while.
Lots to cover here, kids, so pay attention.
I’ve been quiet, I know. Part of it has been work. Just busy and feeling a little drained. Part of it has been being on antibiotics for the past two weeks (I’m fine, but there’s a story and I’ll get to that). And part of it has just been me doing a lot of thinking and not feeling the need to write about those thoughts here. I think I’ve done enough thinking for the moment, though and am ready to belch forth some words for your consideration.
As you’ll remember, I had been seeing someone who stood me up—twice!—after about six weeks. Well, needless to say, I’m not seeing him any longer. Funny thing about my life, though, is that it likes to throw coincidences at me from time to time. The same day that he stood me up for the second time, it started to burn when I peed. Usually, that’s not a good sign so I went to get it checked out and was told by the totally awesome tranny nurse at the STD clinic that there was a good chance that it was chlamydia. As it turns out, it’s the most common STD in the world and can be cleared up with one dose of antibiotics. Swallow some pills, they send you on your way. While I was there, I had them give me a full STD screening because it had been a while anyway. Results in a week.
A week later, I phone to get my results and everything is all well and good except that they’re able to confirm that I did, indeed, have chlamydia. My symptoms had all gone away so there was nothing to worry about. I did, however, have to contact anyone that I’d had sex with in the last two months. The clinic offered their anonymous service where they call for you but I wanted the satisfaction of calling myself.
My voicemail went something like this: ‘Hi, it’s me. I’m just calling to let you know that I was just tested and treated for chlamydia, which means that there’s a pretty good chance that you’ve got it too. If you call this person at this number at the county clinic, they can get you in and tested and treated for free. There’s no need to call me back I just wanted to do the responsible thing and let you know.’
Of course, he feels the need to call me back. I screen his call. His voicemail isn’t worth much more than the electrons that it was recorded on. Though he asks me to return his call, I have no intention of doing so.
I run into him on the bus the next day and do my best to pretend I’m reading until he finally taps me on my shoulder and I have little choice but to acknowledge him. I tell him that I’m feeling fine and he thanks me profusely for letting him know and says he’s going to go get himself checked out. I go back to my book as soon as he stops talking.
As always seems to be the case, I know how to pick ’em.
Now, the infection itself I really don’t see as too big a deal. As I said above, it’s the most common STD in the world. I could have lived without it, but as long as it’s treated in a timely manner, it’s no big deal. To be honest, I’m kind of surprised that I haven’t had anything like this before. Basically, it’s a urinary tract infection though if it’s in your body long enough, it can get further up into the nether regions.
The whole experience, however, soured me on men more than a little bit—not that this is anything new. Still, I’ve been telling myself, much more as of late, that I really need to focus on me and not anyone else. I didn’t make any New Year’s Resolutions this year but I did make some New City Resolutions. I’ll get to those below but for now I’ll say that the further proof of my six-week curse as well as the lovely parting gift only furthered my feeling that I need to focus on me for the time being.
Which brings us to two weeks ago. I’ll spare you all the specifics but my symptoms came back and were worse and it was pretty clear that the infection had hung around long enough to get further up into my nether regions. So back to the clinic I went.
This time, I was not so lucky as to get the kick-ass tranny nurse that I saw the first time. Instead, I got one whose initial reaction to my symptoms was testicular cancer.
Perhaps if she’d looked at my case history and listened to what I was telling her, she wouldn’t have jumped immediately to that conclusion. Basically, I argued her out of that diagnosis and got her to give me more antibiotics, which I’m still on. Initially it was 10 days but when I went back for my follow-up, I got extended another 11 for a total of 21. Three whole weeks. Yippee.
(As an aside, somewhat in the nurse’s defence, I am a prime target for testicular cancer right now but I’m pretty in tune with what’s going on down there and surely would have noticed an abnormal lump growing over a period of a few weeks/months and not one that appeared over the course of about 24 hours. So much for sparing you all the details of my symptoms: it was epididymitis. Click the link if you really want to know more.)
So, what is normally something that gets taken care of by one dose of antibiotics has landed me on three weeks of antibiotics. Know what you can’t do when you’re on antibiotics? Drink. Guess what was this weekend? The Oregon Brewers’ Festival. Sigh.
Anyway, as I said above when I mentioned the antibiotics, all is well and good. I still have another week or so of pills but at least it’s not cancer or something else that can’t be cleared up by taking some pills. In the meantime, I’m just gorging myself on yoghurt and thinking about how good that first drink is going to be come August.
Well, this has turned into quite a long post already, hasn’t it? I think it’s probably best to leave it here for now and I’ll write about everything else soon. Actually, that makes a lot of sense since part of what I’ll be writing about is my new schedule for myself, which ties in with the aforementioned New City Resolutions and my attempts to stick to them.