Fine, my birthday is over. But was it over when it was supposed to be? The truth is, unlike any other in previous years, my birthday this year sort of got an extension of sorts. I mean, yeah, I did have a "celebration" somehow on the day itself, but the celebrations didn't end there. It leached on into the weekend. The hot weekend. The hot birthday weekend.
For the first time ever I think, I had a day blocked off for a birthday treat. I mean back when I was still in school, my birthday didn’t count because it would always be summer vacation. When I started working, there would always be birthday leaves set aside. And for other persons in my life, there actually came a time when I’d hibernate for the whole day and just be by myself.
I know it sounds pathetic, but I’d disappear, stay unreachable, and just space out. It wasn’t that I was lonely, I just really loved being alone. Plus, the fact that I hated attention. The worst that I had done on a birthday? There was one year that I left the house early, checked into a motel for a whole day, and in a series, watched porn, jerked off, showered, slept, and repeated. Till the night crept in and I headed home. Needless to say that was one draining birthday.
This year would be different. Thanks to LuckyTrese who almost never let a day pass without asking when and where my birthday blowout would be. Fine. A blowout once every 32 years isn’t bad at all, right?
So Saturday was the day, and it was to be a pozzie day. I met with BFF at the MRT, and headed on south in the afternoon heat. We made a stopover to pick up a newbie who I was to be meeting for the first time. And from there, we headed to Mall of Asia.
One by one, people showed up. My pozzie grandkid, a couple of my pozzie kids, my pozzie parent, and pozzie bloggers LuckyTrese, E, APositivePointOfView and RecordBreaker. All generations well represented. Sounded like we were a lot but had everyone invited showed up, we may have just doubled in number. Agh.
We had dinner. Italian, because I said so. A tomato based penne, a pesto spaghetti, and a couple of pizzas, bacon cheeseburger and double anchovy. Yum. Of course some of us got their fill just eyeing all the hot boys in the resto. Shameless, shameless, shameless. But allowed. Hehe.
From there, we took a stroll back and forth down the baywalk. Not realizing that no one had any idea where we were going. Finally, our gala boys decided to head to Malate. We left E behind, who was heading out of town that same evening. I was really glad he showed up, late but nonetheless. Oh and E’s gift, a little figurine with my picture and the words “Sexy Star” on it? Priceless. E... such an a-hole. Hehehe.
With his spot quickly filled by a new negative friend standing in for his unconfirmed-pozzie friend, we were off to Malate. We were conveniently approached by a driver who offered to take all ten of us. Considering the long queue for taxis, we took it. And this driver was something. We weren’t conscious about getting all homo with him, but amazingly, he was riding along. Type ni manong si Derek Ramsay! Tarush!
Malate. A nice, cool, chill bar served as our refuge, as we made the most of the final hours before the upcoming election’s liquor ban kicked in. I just had a couple of bottles of Red Horse. Others had their own concoctions. A couple stuck with non-alcoholic drinks. And almost all quenched their thirst with more eye candy. Hot stuff. Hehehe.
I think it was before midnight that we hit a fork in the road. One group would go on partying into the wee hours, and the other would head home. I, of course, headed home. ARVs, two bottles of beer, and going way past my bedtime did it for me. Slept like a baby.
Sunday was no rest day. I had lunch with the extended family. Nope, not for my birthday, but a combination of Mother’s Day and my mom’s 60th birthday. Wow, 60. Senior citizen. She now qualifies as my dependent. I wonder if she’d be comfortable being a dependent of someone who would also technically qualify to have a disability? Hmm.
Anyhoo, again, several generations were there, from my grandmother to my cousin’s daughter. I made the most of the buffet lunch, chowing down on four platefuls of such viands as lasagna, tempura, baked potato, and sushi. Worth it, except when, at the end of the meal, a cousin asks me why I seemed so thin. After eating all that? What was I supposed to say?
The rest of the day, I declared too hot to move. Didn’t even want to go to the mall. Just stayed home and slept. Ran a few errands as the sun set. And a quick go-see with BFF in the evening. I needed to save my energy for the next day. It was, after all, going to be election day.
Woke up early the next day. I was ready, actually excited, to vote. My mom and I took the two minute walk to the polling precinct thirty minutes before it was set to open. Credit that for my being number 7 to vote. We beat all the lines, and were done in about 5 minutes. All went well, except for the more than generous amount of indelible ink I got. Indelible AND incredible. And then it was hot again.
But surprisingly, something got me to brave the heat. I got a text message at around 10:00 am, from someone saying he was horny and asking if I was free. This was an old buddy, who I’d been successfully avoiding during the time I thought I was in a relationship. Now that I was single, what was to stop me?
So in fifteen minutes, I was off on a short walk to his place. It may have been a year since I last saw him. Sat down, talked a bit, caught up, and then the clothes came off. I was almost sure I was going to enjoy with this guy, because I did every time before. It was always fun, with no inhibitions nor strings attached, and we were just such a perfect sexual match. Both the bottom and the cumeater in me were always happy. Teehee. I know, TMI.
And with a Wham! Bam! Thank you, man!, I was outta there in less than an hour. So I was bad. I was really bad. But it was good. It was really, really good. Another good drizzle to end an 8 month drought. A good, long, hot, sticky drizzle to cap off the hot weekend.
I... had... sex. Gasp. Right now, I just consider it as one of my birthday gifts to myself. Having safe fun... being carefree... giving in… for now. But at some point, I will really need to take a good look at myself and decide where I’m taking this.
Right now, I can feel the old B.I.T.C.H. creeping in. Pre-HIV. The B.I.T.C.H. who enjoyed sex a lot. The B.I.T.C.H. who could handle 6 guys in one session. The B.I.T.C.H. who had as many as three separate sessions in a day. The B.I.T.C.H. whose record was having 100 guys in the span of 4 months. I amaze even myself.
I could go back there. But do I really want to? Do I really need to? Think, think, think.
I’m not saying sex is a no-no. I’ve always said that even HIV-positives can have sex... safe sex, or course. But if I just really needed to release the sexual tension, my right hand is always on call, right? I just don’t want to find myself using sex as too much of an escape. I don’t want to catch myself playing with others’ emotions. A predator, I refuse to be. An opportunist, I am not. Pure evil, far from it. But an angel, I am not either. I still absolutely love sex.
And with that, my long, busy, hot birthday weekend came to an end. Hot. Really hot. Till next year. Maybe it’ll get... even hotter.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
The Hot Weekend
Saturday, May 08, 2010
Blowing Candles
Parties and presents. Cakes and candles. Greetings and gifts. Yes, it was… my birthday. It was my 32nd birthday. Yes, 32 years on the face of the Earth. I’m not ashamed to say I’m 32. Not one little bit. Not at all.
But with my birthday always being strewn between several other occasions, like Labor Day, the elections, Mother’s Day, both my parents’ birthdays, and several others, it was never really a big deal. And I liked it that way. Was this year any different?
Before, it’d be easy to get greetings personally or via mobile. But this was my first birthday post-Facebook, where Facebook takes all the work out of trying to remember everybody’s birth dates. So, though supposedly expected, I am astounded that I got tons of greetings. Yes allow me some room for pride, but I was absolutely amazed!
Of course, family. I was happy to hear from my sister who I haven’t talked to in a while. Then there was my pozzie posse and other pusits who shouted out. There were old friends from school, even way back elementary... oi, history. Some greeting from those who were more than friends, from former fuck buddies, guys I dated, crushes, ex-boyfriends, and lo and behold, even an ex-girlfriend! I know… GASP! Hell, even Cebuana Lhuillier greeted me... I used to frequent Cebuana when I used to send cash to Baby Nathan and others who needed help. Hehehe.
The day itself was not meant to be a biggie. Because there was no longer such a thing as birthday leave for me, I was at work. I wasn’t planning on a blow out or anything, but my gurl friend in the office arrived with a cake in hand with my name written all over it. Aww... both the cake and the gesture… sweet. So sweet.
Over lunch, I got asked what I had planned for the day. Nothing really. No dinner, no nothing. They had to cheer me on though. “Birthday sex! Birthday sex!” Hahaha. Not that I was pressured. But I wish. I wish.
I had been texting earlier with the guy I had been dating this past week. Initially, he suggested we’d celebrate together Saturday night, but I’d already made plans with the pozzie posse. I asked him what he was doing that evening. He said he was free. I took a leap. “Then you’re mine tonight.” Was that me? Was that me?
Figuring out where to meet, we decided on somewhere halfway between our respective workplaces. But the meeting area being near his place and his offer to take me home after just didn’t make any wholesome sense. Gulp. I know my logic was rocked, but oddly, I was still a go.
So we met at Shangri-la, and like the heavens were on my side, we got there within minutes of each other, and actually bumped into each other without having to agree on where exactly we’d meet. From there, it was dinner at California Pizza Kitchen. It was penne for me, ravioli for him, and focaccia between to two of us. Absomalutely yummy. Agh. Both Italian boys we are. We are.
Frozen yogurt was next. Coconut for him, New York Cheesecake for me. Still felt sinful for yogurt. And with that, there were loads of calories to burn. He took me for a walk. A couple of blocks in, I knew I wasn’t heading home. I put my arm around his shoulder, my way of telling him I had no fear. No fear. And a couple of blocks more, he held my hand in the dark of the night. That told me, we’re okay. We’re okay.
We got to his place and settled into his room. All sweaty from the walk. Both of us. I love a guy who sweats. Because I sweat. A lot. Sitting down and cooling off, he stripped down to his skivvies. He said it was hot. Yeah, right. And although we’d been flirting a lot in recent days, I still needed that cue. That cue. That cue.
Okay, just to make things clear, this was someone who knew about my HIV status. Hell, he knew so much about me there wasn’t much left to hide. So he knew exactly what he was getting into seducing me into bed. And to me that’s hot.
It was hot indeed, so I took my shirt off. We hugged. We sat facing each other. He leaned over and we kissed. And two hours later, we were plopped on the bed, spent. Both spent. Two hours?! I know...
We both washed up, dressed up. He drove me home, and dropped me off as we kissed goodbye. I believe I got home around 11:00 pm, the only time I drank my ARVs since I ignored my alarm when it rang while we were in the middle of things. And with that I basked in what he calls a post-coital glow that was expected to last a good three hours.
I know some of you might think it’s just sex. Just sex. But sex is a huge thing for me. I have absolutely no qualms about having it on a first date. So this time, three wholesome dates before getting it on was quite different. Quite different.
Sex. It’s usually a make or break thing for me. But it’s not like I want a certain type of guy or expect certain sizes or demand certain acts. I mean, yeah, I have preferences, I have preferred roles, I have my fetishes and kinks, but they’re not carved in stone.
It’s more on chemistry for me. The comfort. Someone who knows what he wants? Great. Someone without hang-ups? Perfect. Personally and sexually, I’m really more of a pleaser. It ain’t about me getting pleasure. Having my partner drowning in ecstasy does it for me. Satisfying someone satisfies me. Part of the masochist in me, I think. I think.
For a first time for us, it wasn’t bad at all. Yeah, of course we did have to figure each other out somehow, and getting there after a single sessions is a lot to ask for. But our still keeping in touch even after the deed seems like a good sign. A good sign.
And for a first time for me in what... eight months?! OMG eight months without sex?! What kind of life is that to live? Hehehe. Well it was a choice for me. And for this kind of a birthday milestone to break my sexless streak... rigid candles blown till the hot wax flowed... not bad at all. Not bad at all.
So there, that was my looooong birthday day. Too bad it fell on a Thursday, otherwise I could’ve extended it into the early morn. Of course I needed to go to work the next day, albeit hungover not from alcohol but from a lack of sleep… and of course, basking in that afterglow. That afterglow. That afterglow. What a gift. What a gift. The afterglow of candles blown.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Past the Candles Blown
My birthday this year has dragged on for more than the twenty-four hours that it was supposed to and has been anything but expected.
Is that a good thing? Is that a bad thing? I don’t know. But it’s been a darn unusual thing.
My whole life, I don’t really recall any year that it was hugely celebrated. Blame my memory or whatever, but my only recollection of a birthday as a child stems from a picture of me, in front of a cake, all dressed up in a Spiderman costume. I looked pretty happy in that picture.
Another factor could be that my birthday fell just two days after my mom’s and dad’s birthdays, so it was always a collective celebration, usually just pasta and fried chicken on the nearest weekend. Not too bad.
In school, my birthday was never celebrated, primarily due to the fact that my birthday falls right smack in the middle of summer vacation. Even now, at work, it’s never been a big deal. I’m always saved by what’s called Birthday Leave. Plus, considering I’m usually the one who makes the personalized birthday cards, it’s just pointless, and not to mention pathetic, to make one for myself.
I’m not sure which came first – that I felt my birthday was always too small of a deal, or that I never liked making a big deal out of it. I’ve gone as far as disappear for the duration of my birthdays before. I remember the worst I’ve done is check into a motel alone for the day, watch hour after hour of porn, and just jerk off until I no longer could. What can I say? I’m easy to please.
Last year, though, may have been the most memorable ever, as I spent the day having vials and vials of blood extracted from my poor veins. Whoopee. Ngarrr. I made the conscious effort for this year to not be that bad.
This year may just have made up for my lifetime’s worth birthdays. It of course started with my I-Hate-Suprises moment Sunday night. Being with friends to celebrate was... uhm... different. Especially considering I didn’t know it was a celebration to begin with.
On the eve of my birthday, I agreed to meet up with a friend in Greenhills for a dinner of my favorites – pasta and pizza. Capped off with chismisan to the max, first-name-basis flirting with the waiter and a liter of long island iced tea, my first taste ever, ahh, heavenly.
From there, we watched Wolverine at one of the Promenade cinemas, with no less than Sharon Cuneta! Well, of course, Sharon didn’t know who the hell we were. We just happened to be in the same movie house, that’s all. It was just funny how Sharon being there seemed to excite my friend even more that seeing Hugh Jackman practically naked.
Wednesday, my birthday itself, started off shortly past midnight as I got greeted via text by a new friend who’s been reading this blog. Actually, it was more that just a greeting, as we... uhm... sort of had... uhm... sex. Gasp! Well, actually, what started out as an innocent phone conversation turned explicit and... well, you know the rest. It was the safest sex there is, without even needing to unroll a rubber over the phone. Sexy, safe and fun. Now that was a hell of a birthday gift.
The rest of the day was spent at home, as usual, sleeping, channel surfing, happily munching on left-over slices of pizza and chocolate mousse. Mababaw lang ako, baket ba?
Friends were a huge part of that day as well. Most of my BFFs were a bit down in the dumps that day, which is really no problem for me. It wasn’t that I was happy that they were sad, but rather, I was happy that I could be there to help ease the burden, or at least try to. I know I’ll sound like such a schmuck if I say that making loved ones happy makes me happy. But that’s the truth.
As expected, I got birthday greetings galore – from relatives, from former classmates, from online friends, from an ex-boyfriend, from a couple of my old fuck buddies, and even from some fubus and friends overseas! I usually despise people making such a big deal about my birthday, but I know this year was different... I was just thankful.
Even until the days following, my birthday dragged on. The owner of the company I work for sent me a text greeting, and even took time to get me a gift. And take note, this is a seventy-plus year old lady, with the help of her fifty-plus year old buddy, so I was a bit surprised.
And Friday night, I got what I consider my ultimate gift, as Positivism’s second issue went live. Paki nyo? Assuming ako eh! I was amazed, giddy, and anxious all the same time.
So truly, this was a birthday week to remember. The worst part may have been my mom wondering why I was on leave from work, and taking a full minute to realize that it was my birthday. But it was fine, no harm done. The day wasn’t perfect, but I didn’t need it to be. It was a day – and a year – that was just more that I could have ever asked for. The year of life was already a gift. And that just made it a very Happy Birthday.
Monday, May 04, 2009
I Hate Surprises
The weekend was crazy. Crazy! Absolutely crazy!
I had gotten a text from one of my BFFs, JohnStanley, last week. Hey, clear your Sunday night, akin na yun, ha. Bawal tumanggi. =) First of all, it wasn’t like I had any excuse, or any other plans really. Second, I liked things being planned ahead, so this was great. And lastly, just the way that it was said was such a turn on for the submissive like me. I could have easily answered, Yes, master! or Take me! Take me! Oi... I need a life, don’t I?
What’s there is? Anong meron? I replied. Wala lang, dinner with friends, was what I got back. Hmm, okay. I assumed it was because of JohnStanley’s recent birthday. With my One Fine Day entries fresh in mind, I was told I could bring L if I wanted to. Hahaha. If only he was in town, I would. I asked if he could invite my other BFF instead, RubyPurple. He said he would indeed like to meet his fellow zoomie. Great.
It was really turning out to be a perfect weekend already, as my mom had gone out of town for an aunt’s funeral, and I was lucky enough to weasel my way out of it. So I was left home alone most of the long weekend to enjoy my silence and solitude.
Arriving promptly at our meeting place, zoom-zoom was already waiting out front. I hopped into the back as he introduced me to his friend in the passenger seat. I remember him saying something about a surprise. Surprise?! Panic. He had to be kidding, right? JohnStanley asked me who else I was expecting to see there. I really had no idea, nor given it any thought. He let slip that RubyPurple had confirmed. Hmm, come to think of it, she never told me she was going. So was that the surprise?
It was a short drive to Eastwood as we badgered each other about our respective emo moments lately. With most of what’s been happening already laid out in this blog, there wasn’t much to tell. Getting there before 7:00 pm, RubyPurple was already inside. Introductions all around, catching up ensued. Shortly, TristanTales and TurismoBoi arrived. Oddly enough, TristanTales greeted me with a Happy Birthday, which was followed by a scolding from JohnStanley for ruining the surprise. Ngarrr. What was this about?
Have I told you how I hate surprises? I pride myself for my composure and my poise, and not knowing what’s going to happen exposes me to the risk of losing them. Ngarrr.
Dinner was a fiesta of sisig, pata and inihaw na... Gasp!... pusit. Hahaha, of course, JohnStanley could not let that joke pass. Fine, fine. But throughout, we hardly fell silent, as we talked about everything from worklife, familylife, lovelife, bloglife, sexlife, nightlife, plantlife and anything-else-life in between. Finally, the real gal in the group got a whiff of how discreet guys are together. Yes, I’m talking about RubyPurple. And she certainly kept up. I hope she wasn’t traumatized too badly. Hehehe.
At one point after dinner, I did notice RubyPurple call a waitress and whisper something to her. I brushed it off, but shortly found out. With a cake in hand and candle lit, I saw all the waiters and waitresses, if I’m not mistaken, coming up the flight of stairs. You know how restos like this have the habit of making a scene when it’s a customer’s birthday? It was not my place to assume, but I was terrified. I tried to look around for who it was, but it was too late. They stopped at our table and laid the cake out in front of me. Happy Birthday, ______, I read on the cake.
Throughout their bad song, I don’t know what kind of face exactly I had on. I wanted to faint. I wanted to cry. I was trying to smile. I was in panic. I may have blushed, if I’m capable of that. I could've done a Hatton, even. But I tried hard to can my emotions and keep my composure. I knew how bad it was when, probably because of nerves, I dropped one of my pills as I was about to drink my ARVs. Good thing I didn’t drop it into the icing on the cake.
Ngarrr. Connivance. Conspiracy. No wonder RubyPurple just happened to ask me some days before what my favorite cake was. And I had said chocolate mousse, indeed. Asked to make a wish before blowing the candle out, I was dumbfounded again. I think my mind stopped several minutes before. I just said Thank You in my head. That’s all I came up with, as I snuffed the flame out. This evening was already more than I could wish for.
I’d never ever... ever... had a surprise birthday celebration in my life. Ever. And to think these people thought I was worthy of one was extremely, extremely touching. After we went our separate ways thanks to our zoomies, I reached home shortly before midnight. Finally alone, I just needed a minute to just sit down and space out. And all the canned emotions just broke loose. I sobbed like a child.
I was touched. I was honored. I was flattered. I appreciated the effort they took to put this thing together.
Thank you RubyPurple, JohnStanley, TristanTales, TurismoBoi, and new guy. Thank you for the friendship. Thank you for the advanced birthday surprise. Thank you for the cake. Thank you for the gift. And thanks to the Po-Po-Po-Poker Faces they’ve been hiding behind all this time, I now baptize RubyPurple and JohnStanley respectively as Lady Gaga and... hmm, Boy Gago? Hehehe.
I still hate surprises. Please don’t do that again. Ngarrr. But, THANK YOU.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Time Flies
I just got back from a loooong weekend. After last Thursday spent at San Lazaro, Friday morning signaled the start of a big family weekend. From my dad’s side of the family, aunts, uncles and cousins already based in the US came home to the Philippines. Some of them I hadn’t seen in twenty-plus years. Add to that most of the clan based in the Philippines, most of whom I haven’t met or don’t even know. We all headed to the southeastern part of Luzon, to go home to our province in Bicol.
My mom and I were fetched at home Friday morning, and picked up some of my dad’s cousins and their families in the area. We totaled 16 in the van, including 4 kids, just right for the size of the vehicle. By about 8:00 in the morning, we were on our way out of the city. So how far away is it? Eight to ten hours. Loooong trip. I had planned to sleep through the whole trip, but with all the yakking and cackling of everyone else there, plus a special mention to the cousin I had beside me who kept tapping my shoulder telling me to listen to her, and slapping my back everytime she laughed, I hardly snuck a wink in.
So needless to say, we were there in no time. We got there before 5:00 that evening. Tired. I’m sure I wondered if this was HIV-related fatigue, but really it was just such a long trip.
I honestly had been dreading meeting all the relatives I haven’t seen or didn’t know. I’d much rather blend into the wallpaper. I sort of got used to being “just the other child”, but my brother and sister weren’t there at the time to grab all the attention. I don’t really have much to be proud of, at least not to the levels of my siblings. It’s all just same old, same old for me. But really, it wasn’t that bad. Save for a number who just wouldn’t stop asking if I was married or had a girlfriend or what, everyone seemed glad to meet me. I still half hate everytime people say I’m a carbon-copy of my father. But no permanent damage.
So what’s the big occasion anyways? It’s my grandmother’s birthday. Not just any. It’s her 100th. One hundred years. That’s like a double gold, or a silver-diamond. Wow. I know. She’s hard of hearing, almost blind, bedridden most of the time, but noticeably, her mind, wit and humor are still there. I know I inherited those from her.
Apparently women in our family have longer lifespans. My grandfathers on both my dad’s and mom’s sides are already gone, while both grandmothers are still around. My dad didn’t even make it to 60. And as for me, I can only be happy that I’ve gotten to 30. The odds of me even reaching 50 are grim. But that’s all me, my genes are not to blame.
I thought this would be a good time to pull my sister aside and tell her about my condition. But I never got the chance, not to mention I doubt if I’d have the guts to tell her. But all in all, it was not bad. I loved seeing my cousins from the US. Even the one I accidentally dropped from a flight of stairs when I was a kid. Even the one who used to tag team with my brother to bully me. I loved meeting the at least 200 of my relatives, thinking to myself that this might be the last chance they’d get to meet me.
I tend to wonder if this many people will show up when my time comes. And it honestly makes me sad that I can’t say for certain. So I need to change the topic.
So anyway, home by Sunday morning after taking the night trip by public transport, I’m happy. I’m proud, because I faced what was sort of my fear of facing people. Facing family. But this is only the beginning. They’ll find out about me eventually. And I realize that this is something that I should begin facing now, before time runs out.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Happy Birthday???
So anyways, here were the tests done:
Before anything else, Happy Birthday to me!
It’s 9:30 am, and I feel like I’m done for the day. I’ve been busy since midnight. Busy doing what? Fasting. I was asleep, but I wasn’t sleeping. I was resting my body in order to avoid feeling the hunger. And why was I fasting? In preparation for the blood test that were scheduled for me today.
I was out of the house by 6:30 am, in order to reach the Manila Health Department just in time for its opening. I got there early as usual, and sat in the waiting area. Already I was number 15 in the line, all the rest of the people there were women, mostly the older set. What I hate about women, is that they’re chatty, to the point of being nosey. One lady sat beside me just couldn’t help herself and had to ask what I was in there for. Awkward! I just said I was having lab work done and being worked up for an operation on my colon. Geesh. I hope she bought it.
What exactly was I there for? I was there because I needed data. I was there because I’m getting to the point of paranoia, where I worry that every cough, every sneeze, every sore, every rash, every time I felt tired was some sort of bad sign of my HIV condition. All that thinking is stressful, and I just needed to know exactly what was what.
I’m hoping my sharing with you provides you awareness, which could relieve the mysteries behind this condition. Replace the fear, with understanding.
I’m done… almost. Also performed were the following:
Wasn’t that a mouthful? And take note that these are ALL blood tests. So could you imagine how much blood was extracted from me for all these tests? Even I couldn’t. Especially when the doctor who extracted blood from me looked at my list of tests and let out a horrific cackle, saying “Wow, this’ll be a lot of blood!” That just did not help. This doctor needs tact classes. Let me give you a hint. They took blood from both my arms. Hell for a needlephobic like me. But I took it.
So there, that’s one unforgettable birthday for me. My results should be out by tomorrow, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it out. I need to work. I’ll try to get them Thursday, and bring them to the doctor at the HIV ward of San Lazaro.
I wonder what next year’s birthday will be like for me… hmmm...
