When we are young, we can't wait to be 16,18, 21. Then you get my age,66, and time seems to speed up. This was one of those weeks where a lot was accomplished, but nothing to write home about. One day melts into the next, you look around and see you've fallen into a rut.

My lab results were great compared to say 1995, six years after I diagnosed. I had 12 t cells, CD4/CD8 ratio was 9%… I was just getting back on my feet from nearly dying of PCP. I was waiting on this new protease inhibitor, Crixivan. I was going into a "cocktail" study. Finally the CDC ran out of red tape and I started. You don't realize how lousy you felt until you feel better. A cocktail. Wow.

I had moved into a turn of the century apartment on the west side of Cincinnati in April. Hot summer in the city. 100+. I had felt so lousy I had barely unpacked. Suddenly I had energy. But soon my numbers crashed. The doctor said he KNEW I didn't get the real Crixivan. I was crushed. So he unblinded it, sure enough, no magic pill.I got into a compassionate use program for Crixivan.. BOOM! We were off to the races.

About four months into it, coldern frog balls in the Queen City, my right kidney crystallized. In the hospital, unplug the kidney. Pain right there next to childbirth with no layette. It happened again two years later and I was off that poison. On to a new one. I had AZT for ten years up to that point. AZTseemed to be the ice in every cocktail. DDi ddC, d4T all with AZT.Ahhh, the dying years. Now I have neuropathy.

The first time I took Sustiva, I had the greatest Technicolor dreams. Skipped for hours through the painted desert in full bloom. Better than LSD. The drug hangover was hell and trying to get to work was horrible. I worked swing shift. . I was a manager. Couldn't miss work. Bad example.

Viramune.Lost 70# in no time. Everything tasted metallic. By then my ten mile per week run was halted. The discovery of avascular necrosis of my right hip was devastating. KALETRA, let's try that. Went to Mexico with meds in a cooler. I wouldn't stop. NEVER.

Today, my Jesus in a pill is Atripla. Back to watching the kidneys. Oh those labs… 758 t-cells, no load and CD4/CD8 ratio 39.9 %…

All is well on the farm. Tomatoes and green beans by the bushel. Green peppers by the pound. An empty pillow here in this queen size Temperpedic. Star light, star brite, where the hell is Mr. Right? 1989-2014. Through the dying years, still alone. Makes one wonder what it's all about… Alfie. Great career of 38 years, 25 of it with the Gooch. Award winning civil servant writer, instructor, manager…blah ,blah ,blah…Alone again, naturally. I'm on top of the dirt. That's what matters.

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