MOVING UP AND MOVING ON

Today is a new day and an opportunity to begin life anew. Not some miraculous change, but just new, new ideas, new thoughts, new behaviors, in general a new me. I am not going to begin speaking a new language or dressing in some new and very stylish manner. I will continue with my English as I speak, read and write it. Perhaps a bit archaic but it works for me and communicates beyond the written word with, I hope, a bit of feeling. And, jeans, t-shirts and canvas loafers will continue at least until the cold weather finally gets here when the t-shirts will be replaced by sweatshirts and one of two sweaters that belonged to My Robert and that I wear with the sensation of his holding me close and keeping me safe.

I actually have a number of things that belonged to Him that I still wear and will continue to until they are thread-bare and no longer even resemble what they originally were. I used to have his socks and wore them until my feet grew due to flattening of my arches and his socks no longer fit. I still wear his boxer shorts. I always wore boxer-briefs but when He died I, for some reason, started wearing his boxers and have grown to enjoy the loose and floppy freedom they provide. And, several of the sweatshirts mentioned above were His as well as at least half of my collection of jeans. So, He is still very much a part of my life and will continue to be. That part will never change.

I am beginning a balance physical therapy program that will, I hope, help me with my balance issues to the point that I no long need anything more than my cane to be safe and secure when walking, that I no longer have to fear that awful pull of gravity when I only want to stand erect. That I can go to any of the medical clinics I have doctors at and not have to be given a yellow fall risk wrist band as a first thing function of checking in for my appointment. I have actually only had one significant fall in the past year and that one is the one that put the fear of god into my living equation and brought about a walker for stability. I only use the walker on those days when I feel really dizzy and that is part of what the balance physical therapy program is supposed to address.

And, when I feel secure in the balance department, I can finally begin the process of finding a little house to rent, with a yard for Timmy. I will have to invest in some sort of transportation also, but have several people who I know that can assist me in determining the mechanical quality of a used vehicle. Of course, not being insured for so long, my age, etc. means that I will have to pay out the ass for insurance, but if that is what it takes to be independent then that is what it will take.

That is my major goal for the next little while. I am not going to put a timeline for it to occur, only a goal that is achievable and that I want now more than anything on earth. To do my own cooking and cleaning and all the things that come with just the simple act of living your life independently and with yourself as the one you rely on.

So, pray for me if you pray, cross your fingers, toes, eyes or whatever you cross for good luck, do all the mojo that you have at hand that this one dream of mine will come to fruition soon and that I will be able to go back to living the life of a "normal" person. And, I thank you in advance for all those good wishes.

 All good things must come to an end and when they prove to possibly be not all that good their end should come rapidly and without looking back.

Such is the case of the mysterious Mr. Cleveland. We met only a short while ago online and within a week he was professing his undying love for me. Of course I freaked and thought it was just another catfish scam so I ended the relationship immediately. And, within a short period he had tracked me down, emailed me wanting to know if I was o.k. and expressing what seemed like real concern for my wellbeing.

So, together again, until I began to wonder why all the pictures I had seen of him were professional and posed and probably fashion model types of pictures. So, I began to insist he send me a picture, sort of a selfie type, of just his face or I was going to go away again for fear the he was not the person in the collection of photos he had sent me.

Well, he actually went a step further and send a short video of himself with his shirt off and a glint in his eye that seduced me right back on track to become the long distance relationship winner.

A number of you pointed out that there was nothing about the picture/video that made it something that was unique to me and that it could actually be a video that had been used time and time again. The seed was planted even though I was convincing myself that I might have actually not only found a love to end my life with but an amazingly handsome, hot and sexy one to boot.

Well, that seed grew and for the past week I have been asking at first then insisting that he send me a short, maybe 30 second, video chat where he actually spoke, showed his face and said something as simple as hello, how are you?.

Then, yesterday a.m. I drew a line in the sand and said there would be no more chat from me until I got a video chat from him. He began to say things like on babe, please do not act that way. I went into silent mode with notifications turned on in Skype so that, if he sent something, I would know. Finally, last evening at about 7 p.m. he texted/chatted that he felt I was being unreasonable and that I was trying to rush our relationship (this from the man who was talking marriage at week number 2). I texted back that I did not feel I was being unreasonable and that, in fact, if we had met face to face instead of online, this would be a done deal and I wanted the video chat or I would terminate the relationship.

I waited for an hour, texted one last farewell, and deleted Skype (I had only installed it for his communications). 

This morning he does not exist, in fact there is no record of his ever existing. Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, Telegram...all traces of his existence have been erased from the Internet. So, I guess he was just on a fishing expedition after all.

Funny, I do not feel sad or remorseful at all. In fact, I sort of feel relieved. Relieved that no more information of a personal nature was shared beyond name and ID for Skype. So, catfish lesson number two for me. One that cost an arm and a leg financially, and this one which was, and remains, mysterious in the direction he was trying to maneuver it.

So, here I am, once again, just that little old man who lives up the lane. On my own, alone (but not lonely today, that comes and goes) books, music and movies...and Timmy, all my constant companions. In another 3 months I will finally be out of debt from my first catfish adventure and will have a significant amount of money left each month (compared to the few dollars I have each month now) and may even begin the process and planning of becoming more independent from this "Independent Living Facility".

Oh, and lets not forget that I still have my stunning South American Gentleman, My mysterious and marvelous Russian in St. Petersburg, and my mentor and guru in Spain to keep me company and to actually have conversations with that do no relate to, or even hint at, any sort of relationship beyond the friendships that have grown over the months. Oh to be able to actually visit with them someday. That is a dream that will never be, I know, but a dream well worth holding on to.

 Mr. Cleveland. A man of amazing good looks and fit physique that could easily own that name as his title. I am not revealing much about him out of respect for his privacy until such time that he says he wants the world to know about us. That sounds a lot more mysterious than it should. We only met online a short time ago and almost immediately began an online relationship that, at least for me, has been confusing and at times frightening. Not in some online serial killer way, but having been catfished once recently and ending up with a lot of debt because I believed everything that was said and promised. 

I am not ashamed to admit that happened. These are people who prey on the elderly who are alone and lonely, who have given up on ever being loved or held again. So, when those things suddenly disappear and that faintly remembered happiness is offered it is hard not to just grab hold and do anything necessary to protect those feelings. Even the sending of money to a stranger who says they only need it for an emergency and will pay it back soon. This is always followed by another request, and another and soon you have sent them a large sum of money and they suddenly do not answer emails or text messages.

So, having been down that road I am hesitant when a stranger professes an out of the ordinary affection toward me online. First I admit that I take a copy of their picture and do an image search which often identifies them right off the bat as a predator. Delete, block, wipe from memory. 

But, with Mr. Cleveland it was different. First there was his name. It is such a common name that I figured it had to be fake. And all his pictures were posed studio quality pictures which are often a sign of a catfisher who is taking the identity of a model. So I requested a picture, sort of a selfie, which he provided and which did not raise any red flags on an image search. And, in addition, he sent a little video clip which was made with his shirt off and he revealed that he not only said he worked out he delivered photographic proof. 

Here are a couple of screen captures from that video of Mr. Cleveland's chest. 

Now you see why I am in awe of my good fortune. I have an online and never to be satisfied relationship with a amazingly handsome South American god. And now a man with this body, and the face is equally as attractive, that has seen pictures of me, knows that I do not have two pennies to rub together, is aware that I have some health issues that present a challenge and a few that will be a permanent part of my life and understands that my erratic attitude toward him on occasion is based on my fear that he is catfishing me....but there is no meat on this fish, so why is he interested in me?

I know that there are those men who have a strong attraction toward men who are much older than they are. I know at least one who has been in three relationship during his life, all with men 50 or more years older than he is, all of whom he has outlived and mourns daily. None of whom were wealthy or very distinguished looking older gentlemen. Just ordinary old men with ordinary old men issues and lucky enough to meet him and find love in their late years that was honest and sincere.

So here I am with this amazing young man who works hard to support himself, has even offered to help be pay off my bills and get out of debt earlier (which I adamantly refused). Who has talked about saving his money to buy a house where we, yes he said we, could live and be happy together. 

What is happening here. How can this answer to a prayer be happening? Is it really happening? I have, a couple of times, tried to sabotage what is happening and he patiently waits for me to calm down and always says that I have nothing to worry about.

I am confused and happy at the same time. I am ready to pack up and move to Cleveland which would be a really stupid thing to do at this time, or any time in the foreseeable future. I have absolutely no idea what is going to happen or how any of this is going to turn out. 

I have decided to just go along for the ride. If something more serious comes of all this I will be happy. And, if nothing more happens than what has happened already, well I will not be disappointed at least.

 The only regret I would have if this falls apart is not having been held and hugged against that chest by those arms.

 MEA CULPA....most sincerely

Well, within minutes of posting the preceding article titled Paying for Sex I began to get text messages and email from a group of web cam models that I am acquainted with and with whom I have formed friendships that allow for honest discussion and boy that is what I got an ear full of.

I am sincerely sorry if I have some way given the impression that I am "down" on sex work or sex workers and, as several of my model friends have pointed out to me, web cam workers or the work that they do. Of all my friends who are web cam models only my friend in Russia said "of course I sex worker. I sell my body to anyone who pays. They not touch but they pay. So I sell sex." That from a man who is a web cam model, an exotic dancer in Russian clubs and a stripper that dances at birthday parties. 

Otherwise it was made very clear to me that a web cam worker is NOT a sex worker. I will not get into the discussion on that topic at this time or in this space, but as a former sex worker myself, albeit 50 plus years ago before there was even an Internet to be a web cam worker on, I am a strong supporter of their trade and the work/service that sex workers perform (virtual or real). And support the efforts globally to organize sex work as a legitimate trade recognized by labor unions. And, thereby subject to the protections afforded other workers of all trades in the United States and around the world.

What I was trying to communicate in the previous posting was my own evolution related to the paying for sex. How even I recognized my own hypocrisy in saying I would never pay for sex while having been a very successful sex worker in my twenties and obviously got paid for sex. I think the statement "I would never pay for sex" is a sort of catch phrase that is used often by men to disguise feelings they may have related to certain insecurities...again a topic for possible further discussion but not at this time.

Those of you who have read this blog for a while are well aware of my issues with being alone and often lonely as a 75 year old Gay man who sees few, if any, bright spots on my relationship horizon and so...I have turned to the internet for virtual contacts and virtual relationships and virtual sex being performed for my benefit and at my request. 

What months of that behavior have shown me...and this only applies to me...is the emptiness of that behavior. Yes, I have the fantasy, the virtual contact, that leads to a sexual act and then it is over. There is no warm spot in the bed to remember what happened, there are no extra towels to launder and there is no second coffee cup sitting used on the kitchen counter. What is/was is gone with the click of a mouse just like turning off the television removes all the excitement or romance or comedy of the program you were watching. It is all just gone.

That is all that I was trying to convey in my previous posting. That and the changes that self awareness is bringing about in my life. I will continue to visit with my friends who are models and to on occasion purchase tokens for them and for any stranger who catches my eye for even a moments entertainment.

And if that is paying for sex, virtual or not, then yes, I Pay for Sex.

 PAYING FOR SEX.....

"I have never, and will never, pay for sex!" Has that sentence ever passed over your lips or into you ears from the mouth of a friend? I know that I have actually made that comment any number of times over the years. But what is "paying for sex" and when, if ever, is it "not really paying for sex"?

And you, my loyal readers, know that while I may have on occasion uttered that proclamation that I won't pay for what should always be free. You also know that for a good portion of my youth I was on the other end of that statement...being paid for sex, frequently and handsomely. I wish I was still making that kind of money today, and all tax free. 

Of course, that made it different. I was getting paid and the person doing the paying was a consenting adult with full knowledge of what was happening. And, while we would go to a hotel room or, very rarely an apartment or home, where we would engage in pretty much any sexual fantasy that that other person was wanting, shake hands and part ways (always get the money up front). Today things have changed.

I know that there are still face to face encounters either independently happening or brokered by a person who shares in the "take" when cash changes hands. But more often they are meetings between strangers online in some live sex show arrangement where the money is paid via tokens or coins through a corporate entity that takes up to 95% of every dollar exchanged (and still the money is always upfront). A bit more cold and less human perhaps but far less likely that an upset customer will smash in your face with a wine bottle like happened to me once.

So, is this "paying for sex". Well the person performing the "show" is exchanging an item (fantasy sex) with a customer wanting that item (fantasy sex) and is willing to pay a pre-negotiated price for its performance. That would make the performer a "sex worker" and the customer their "trick" so, in its simplest definition, yes, this is paying for sex.

Now, a few months ago, a commenter here suggested I investigate sites like Chaturbate, RealDudes, StripChat and such. Initially I was going to just view and not get involved in the goings on like the purchase of tokens and sending same tokens to a performer as a "tip", or in larger amounts, for the purchase of a specific act, often in private, and often resulting in an erection and an orgasm costing several hundred tokens or, based on the price of tokens, anywhere from 50 dollars to a few hundred.

And, yes, I have engaged in a number of those transactions. So, yes, I have paid for sex. But I can assure you that it is in no was as satisfying as the sex work that I once did where two individuals actually touched one another and got all messy together. And, while those prices are high for what you are actually getting; to watch another person masturbate, sometimes with "toys" and having an orgasm alone on a computer screen with no physical contact, no intimacy, no more than a virtual representation of what could be.

And, like so many things, I have begun to become less enchanted by the sex/sex act end of these events. I am still very much a voyeuristic participant in these sites but less and less a token spending participant. Often just because I have no tokens and no money to purchase them. But more and more often just an unwillingness to participate in a "sex act" that while beautiful to watch and sometimes entertaining leave me less than satisfied and usually even more alone feeling that before the "show" began. 

I am fortunate to have established friendships with several of the models on these sites and with whom I have ongoing friendship based conversations outside the confines of their corporate sex shops. And, while I am contemplating making significant changes in my use of the token exchange acts to be much more minimum in nature and almost never a multi-hundred token purchase, I am comfortable that my friendship with these models long ago moved beyond that area and into a relationship that is shared by two individuals.

So, yes, I have paid for sex (and may again). 

Now, after the Texas Ranger vs Cleveland Baseball game tonight I will present you with more on the ongoing saga of me and Mr. Cleveland tomorrow.

 Well, I will only commit to not feeling any worse. I am afraid that to say I feel better this morning might in some way jinx the entire healing process and down again into the abyss i will slide. I just have to be mindful that chronic pancreatitis never goes away and that it excels in the whole waiting on the sidelines ready to pounce thing.

Now, if you ever want absolute perfection in both appearance and presentation of the human form look no further then my South American gentleman. He is, without doubt, very near to the perfect representation of the human male body that is possible. And, on top of all that, he is an actual real, living person with the ability to talk and think and be a pretty nice fellow all around. If I was 50 years younger, born and raised in Medellin Colombia and lived next door to him there might be a chance. But 3 thousand miles and decades apart...well, as I have mentioned before. Sometimes the dreams are the new, and in many ways better reality.

As for Mr. Cleveland and his much more realistic and achievable reality. Well, he finally sent a picture, and not just a picture but a video as well. And let me tell you that he could easily be a contender for either Mr. Cleveland or Mr. Ohio and win it hands down. I knew from previous (professional and stock) photos that he was good looking and that he did workout to stay fit. Well, little did I realize what a hunk he actually is. Which makes me even more afraid of becoming attached. 

How could someone who looks like that be even remotely interested in this old fart. I know, and will spare you any need to point out that I probably have body shame issues. I do, I know I do, I have always had them and they do not just go away magically. And when an absolute god of a man says that they are really, really interested in you and the possibility of a relationship with you. Well, those same shame issues do not get resolved, they just latch on to any available insecurity and hold tight. 

The picture/video he sent was not "one of those" pictures, but he did have his shirt off and when I saw it I was really grateful that I do not have more issues with balance than I do because  if I did I would fallen flat on my face. I wish I could share it with you so that you can see what a lucky SOB I have turned out to be. But I do not have the right to reveal anything except what has been revealed so far with anyone without his permission first.

Now, here is am with an absolutely wonderful online relationship with my South American gentleman that can realistically never be more than it is right at this point in time. We will, I hope, continue to have the friendship we share today for the rest of time.

And now an online relationship that actually might have the potential for becoming a reality and with an equally beautiful specimen of the male form. How in gods name did I manage to hit paydirt twice without any real effort?

So, bring on the recommendations, the comments, the advice to the Love Lorne, all that and more. I am, a little more than yesterday, in a good mood today. That feels good and I welcome it.

 What a difference a day makes...24 little hours. 

Well, I went from actually feeling almost recovered to a complete relapse in a single day. It actually hit at 11 p.m. last night and I have been up ever since. I am not going to go into any details but this is about a miserable as a human can feel and actually still be alive.

The first meeting with my new Primary Care Physician is this coming Monday and we are going to talk about Pancreatitis and Glucose levels and the increasing specter of kidney damage and/or disease due to the prolonged elevated sugars in my system. 

The insulin is now at 20 units both a.m. and p.m. and it seems that it is very slowly beginning to have an affect on my readings. But there continues to be some pretty high readings mixed in there also. 

But now, the gory details about all that is going on with my body. At my current age of 75 a full blown diagnosis of Chronic Pancreatitis carries with it a life expectancy of 10 years which would put me at 85 and the probability that Timmy will have predeceased me is pretty good. So, that is not all that upsetting.

The glucose issues have been going on for so long that their damage is probably already pretty much set in stone. So impact on other organs, most serious risk being the kidneys, is pretty good and, in fact, upon looking a lab results from last month, my CKD-EPI GFR is 58.6 puts me in the level 3 kidney disease category, and while that requires additional test to see if those numbers stay in that range, it is a cautionary shot across the bow so to speak. 

So, all this doom and gloom aside I am not planning on checking out anytime soon. These are all warning signs that can, and should, be addressed my my medical care team...such that it is. 

My amazing South American Gentleman continues to be the light that shines most bright in every day that passes. I believe I may have actually exhausted my vocabulary of praises to sing in his honor and it may be time to just sit back and admire God's handiwork.

My Cleveland boyfriend continues to befuddle my mind. I can not figure if he is sincere or not. And, another of those red flags that signal a possible catfish. I asked for a simple selfie sort of snapshot and have put the request on the table several time since the first request and still no picture. Now, the theory is that if they have concocted an identity that is all manufactured by stock pictures that do not even resemble them, they are not willing to share a image of who they really are. So, I am beginning to drift further from center on this, and recognize the the complexity of long distance online shit may just be that...shit.

 It is my fervent wish that none of you ever has to endure acute pancreatitis. I have been dealing with a flareup for the past two days. It is beginning to subside and I hope to wake up in the morning feeling 100% better. The gut pain like someone has kicked you with cleats on and left the cleats inside you, not to mention the other things that your body does. Well, it is not fun is about the best I can say.

I do have followup appointments this month to try and deal with whatever is going on with my pancreas as well as addressing the ongoing mess with my blood sugar levels. When I started the insulin there was an immediate correction. But that only lasted a day and since then it has been up and down like that roller coaster that I say I seem to be trapped on.

My South American gentleman continues to be the wonder that I have always thought him to be. However, he has revealed, in a subtle way, that he is bi and has a preference for the fairer sex. So, I will be happy being his old Queer friend. That is really the best since we will never meet anyway.

My Cleveland boyfriend continues to be just that. But having long distance online conversations is proving to be more complicated than I thought they would be. I told him that he has become my now you see him now you don't, boyfriend because there are such long gaps in our conversation. He does have his life to live and I accept that but it would be nice if we could have a conversation not interrupted by long periods of silence.

Now however, I am getting sleepy. I have slept this entire day away, did wake up early and did a load of laundry that will be folded in its own time. And, I keep getting spasms in my lower left abdomen, probably that Alien baby working its way to the surface.

So I am going to settle in with a movie and then sleep some more with visions of good health and well being dancing in my head.

 Lots of good news to share with you all today. Got the results back from my biopsies and I am good to go for a while. No cancer, no ulcer, a few infections that they can easily deal with. So the grim reaper has been sent on his way for at least a while. The only thing that has not been addressed so far is the ongoing pain in my gut. But that will be addressed if I continue to be steady in my insistence on proper medical care.

The prostate solution is being shelved for a while. My A1C is very high (9.3) and they will not do the procedure until it is lowered. Now, guess what, the steroid shots that I get in my cervical spine to control neck and shoulder pain actually causes the A1C to spike. So, my options are to forego the shot in order for my A1C to go down and they can rotor-router out my prostate and all the while I have to endure the most awful pain I have ever known. Or, I get the shot and have a pain free life while still having trouble with the entire pee at night thing. I have opted for the pain free route and am hoping that when I meet with my new primary care physician on the 18th there has been some progress made by big pharma in pharmaceutically dealing with BPH. I already take 28 pills a day, what is one or two more.

And speaking of A1C and blood glucose. Well I found that under Part A of Medicare there is durable medical equipment coverage that includes glucose test meters, test strips and lancets provided at no charge. So, after a long argument with Walgreens about if that was true or not resulting finally with my Insurance (United Health Care) calling my local Walgreens and explain the Medicare rule to them I will walk down to the Walgreens two blocks away and get my supplies this morning. Mark one for the little old man that live up the lane.

And now for the ongoing saga of my experience with relationships. My incredibly handsome and sexy and loving and compassionate South American gentleman is still in my picture. He has finally granted me access as we had before and I can now wish him a good day and a good night each day. However, during our "down" time I did notice some things about his behavior online that were always there but that I never really paid attention to. Now let me state upfront that I do believe what he has said to me if only because those statements transcend the online sex worker and carry over into our private conversations on other platforms than Chaturbate. But, while connected as the sex worker he often is involved in a number of conversations at the same time, many on his cell phone, flirting with his users and yet somehow making me feel like I am the only one there of any importance. I do not speak Spanish but suspect that he may be saying the same thing to others that he is saying to me. I do not care any less for him because of this. He is, after all just trying his best to earn some sort of living with what he does and earn the money to continue his education. And my affection for him, while still having a strong sexual anchor, is also one of almost fatherly pride in him as a person. It is my hope that we will remain friends for many years and that I will be able to share, with pride, what I believe will be his many accomplishments over the years. I believe that he will someday be a distinguished South American gentleman in three piece suits with amazing grey hair at the temples and very possibly playing a significant political role in the ongoing growth of his country.

So, he remains in my friendship collection while I have walked away from all others except my model friend in Russia who continues to be one of the hardest working and most responsible people that I know.

And just when I was ready to stick my old turtle head back inside its shell what happens? Well, a few weeks ago I get a follow/friend request from a man who, for the time being shall go unnamed, in both Facebook and Instagram. I granted the request and we began just chatting online with one another. He lives and works in Cleveland (a mere 1,300 miles away and within a travel distance that does not require a passport) is much younger than I am but is attracted to older men. After about a week of chatting the old "oh my god I am being catfished again" specter raised its ugly head and I, in a panic, just deleted and block all communication with him. Now mind you I had already, in a chat, let him know that I was just an old retired man with no money and huge debts who just hardly makes ends meet every month. And what did he do? He managed to find my email address and sent a couple of emails asking if I was alright, had something happened to me. Not had he done anything wrong, but a sincere inquiry about my well being and health. And then something happened that I did not expect and that even surprised me. I responded, went through the technological nightmare of re-friending him and un-blocking him and our conversations began again. He did not once chastise me about my behavior, almost like he really understood the fear and panic that I felt and was able to just overlook it in favor of what is becoming an online relationship that actually does feel sincere. He continues to live his life, go to his gym (yes he is a handsome and well build young man), work his job every day and chat with me on his lunch hours and for long chats in the evening.

I do not know where or if this relationship is actually going to go anywhere but I admit that I am hoping that it does. 

There is no way that I could move to Cleveland and only a hidden hope on my part that he might someday be able to move here, find work and a happy life. But that is still only a part of the relationship that seems to be forming. Only time will tell if this has the ability to move from the virtual universe and into the realm of reality.

Now, of course, you my loyal and good friends get to make comments about moving with caution, taking care, never send money (as if I had any to send to him or anyone else) which has never even been mentioned in any of our conversations. The only things he seems to be interested in is me and my well being. Real or not it is such a change in my life and feels so good and right at this moment that I really do cherish and look forward to the time we are able to spend together online.

So, how about them postings? The good the bad and the ugly as they say. Life is not finished tormenting me I am sure but it does seem to be taking a sabbatical however brief it may be.

Now share in the joy and happiness that I am currently feeling and go forth into your day with joy and peace in your hearts. Much love to you all and most of all thank you for continuing's to be such faithful readers of my drivel.

 So this shit is about to drive me to my last nerve.

First I get a call yesterday, yes on Labor Day, from the doctors office to schedule a follow up appointment for the Gastro where they did a bunch of biopsies. The appointment was scheduled for late in the month so I made the assumption that everything was alright or they would call me in earlier.

Then, last night, scheduling called and asked me to come in at 7:30 a.m. to the Lab for additional blood work followed by a appointment in the surgery center to take 3 additional biopsies from my throat. Doom and gloom and impending death came rushing back into the room.

Now, I do have Barrett's Esophagus which might be the culprit. Over time it does accumulate what, for lack of a better term, the doctor refers to as "crud" in my throat, little clumps of white tissue on my esophagus. This is the first time they have biopsied it however. And, as I was leaving they said, one more time, that the results should be available by the end of the week along with the earlier results and that they would call me, that there was no need for me to call them.

Guess, what? They are not getting off the hook that easy. They will be getting regular calls from me starting Thursday early as they open the office.

So now, with a sore throat and raspy voice, I wish you all the best.

 OMG...two post in one day. Life as we know it must be coming to an end. 

I don't really know why this posting is happening except I am suddenly consumed by grief over the loss of My Robert in 2021 and an amazement at how that love that we shared is still so strong, even stronger than it was at its height. There is absence, there is emptiness, there is loneliness, there are all the feelings that we all hope we will never feel. And yet, they are here and all the gorgeous, beautiful, loving and compassionate men in all of South America and throughout the world can not make that feeling and that love go away or be, in any way, less than what it was then, is now and will be for all of eternity. 

This song from the movie The Boy With Green Hair keeps running through my mind, playing at full volume on my inner speakers:

"There was a boy
A very strange enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far
Very far
Over land and sea

A little shy
And sad of eye
But very wise was he

And then one day
One magic day he passed my way
And while we spoke of many things
Fools and kings
This he said to me

The greatest thing
You'll ever learn
Is just to love
And be loved in return

-- Eden Ahbez

I know that some of what I am feeling has to do with my health and a growing attitude that it all just does not matter and, were it not for Timmy, I would just let it all go and be done with it. But that little furry four legged friend depends on me to make his every day a happy one and I will do that for as long as needed.

Sixpence Notthewiser recently posted the following music video on his blog. And, except for the coal miner scenes this could have been made about me and My Robert. About an always and forever kind of love, a love that will last until the end of time. The part that I regret and that is still in the video is that I let go of the farm and moved into what I call "the home". Things here are not that bad but they are not our home or our life or our dream. Now I am alone, with my memories and tears and grief that will not go away.

I am sorry to be such a downer on such a beautiful Sunday, but if you have read my blog before you know that I can be nothing if not honest about me and my life.

I hope that you are are having a better day than I am.

 O.K. Yet one more abject apology for not posting. I was catching up on all the blogs I read and had ignored for too long. And, I even posted a comment here and there as well.

Now, the ongoing saga of the old man who lives up the lane.

Well my amazing South American love and I had quiet the spat over something that never should have or would have happened if I did not have the tendency to jump the gun and fly off the handle in just the wrong direction. I think that we have made up, at least online, however, he still has not unblocked me on Instagram so I am no able to wish him a good morning and a good night. Plus, an occasional overly poetic and romantic little blurb about what an amazing man he is. I keep hoping and, I will wait. And, if it never happens at least we have repaired our online presence and that is something in itself very special.

I did have my two surgeries. The first was the Gastroenterology thing where they put a scope down my throat into my stomach, turned left and poked a hole in my stomach to get a biopsy of my Pancreas. And, I was later informed, on their way out they took 7 additional biopsies of my esophagus. The results were supposed to be available last Friday but, of course, no phone calls and nothing posted on any of their portals. And Monday is a holiday so the earliest I can hope for results is Tuesday. Of course I have painted myself into a corner of doom, gloom and impending death.

My second surgery was the Urology one where they put a scope up your penis into your Prostate and Bladder to see if there is anything they can do to correct my BPH. And yes, there is a laser procedure that they can do to burn off the swollen tissue inside my Prostate. However, my A1C is 9.3 and they will not do the procedure when it is that high. Now, remember that I am getting steroid injections into my cervical spine to deal with really serious pain. And guess what. Steroids cause your A1C to spike. So I now have to decide if I forgo the shots to get me A1C down so they can do the procedure while I suffer the most awful pain. Or, to I just say the hell with the procedure and continue getting the injections? I have an appointment Friday to get my next shot and before that I will ask the doctor if there is a non-steroidal solution. I have heard of some sort of patch but do not know anything about it and it may actually be a steroid patch of some kind. And other than that the solution will probably be an extra strength something that will eventually eat a hole in my stomach and none of this will matter anyway.

Growing old and paying the price of a youth spent with drugs, sex and rock and roll is a bitch.

On a happier note for the first time in months I actually had a little left after everything was paid. Not much but more than before. And, I am just a few more months from finally being debt free once again. That is no longer just a dream but a real honest to goodness goal.

I am upset with my church and the way they are approaching the entire older Queer issue. They are taking the approach of "there is an inclusive and loving church" that is here for you without even addressing the fact that so many older Queer folk, and young ones also, have been so burned and traumatized by corporate Christianity that the simple mention of the involvement of religion will just drive them deeper into the disappearing closet. So, I have stopped going and am trying to, with the help of a professional care give that works here, develop something apart from the church.

And that is about all this old fart has to share for today. I promise to be more attentive with my postings in the future. Sorry for the absence. And, have a great Sunday all, yesterday was Football Saturday, my Longhorns won and that made me happier. Now lets see what is on tap for today. 

Much love to you all with all sorts of hugs and kisses as appropriate. And any other thing that your imagination will allow.

Until next time, I remain, the old man that lives up the lane.