We used to meet in the Village. Grab drinks from older guys, get buzzed and move on. Bar crawl, from 16 years old. Crazy colored hair, crazy clothes, more older guys, more drinks. Maybe a quick blow job in the bathroom at Ty's on Christopher Street. Laughing all the way to the peers. Smoke a half pack of cigarettes, then decide where to go. Ice Palace? Sure.
And we danced.
Doing crazy things. Getting crazy crushes. Making more friends that didn't call me a fag. Having so much fun. I want to always be laughing. Feeling secure and not afraid anymore. Using my fake ID. Let's go somewhere. Styx? Sure.
And we danced.
Never without a cigarette. Always smoke them to the filter. Cruising in the dark rooms at the bookstore. Falling in love at the dirty movies. Forget him in an hour and run out the side door. Your boot heel broke...laughing again...Beauties? Hell yeah...give me 4...I don't need a drink. Starting to fly, need to move around. The Monster? Sure.
And we danced.
Man you look skinny. Looks good on you. Me? Nah, I've never weighed more than 120 pounds. Tight Jordache, Sasson's, and wearing Z-14. Smells like sex to me. I dunno, haven't seen him in a month. Can't get rid of the flu he said. He's a drama queen anyway. Micro-dot? I'm down. Put it on your tongue, let me lick it off. This is insane. And fun. I feel jittery. Studio? Sure.
And we danced.
Scary posters, scary chatter, scary faces. Man you look too skinny. I'm just sayin'. St. Marks Baths? Yes, but I want a room with you. Just us. Close the door. Love spooning with you. You smell like trouble. I like trouble. Coke? Yes. Put it on your stomach. Let me snort it off of you. Burning nose, sexed out, but feeling jumpy. Let's go to the disco room.
And we danced.
Why not? C'mon it's probably allergies and they say Sylvester is the show tonight. You're boring. I'm going alone. Lots of lights, lots of guys. Back against the wall, smoking and looking around. Everyone is so thin. Faces are hollow. Sure, why not? Shotgun...lips touch. Kissing, feeling high. The show is on. Let's jump on the speakers. Don't worry.
And we danced.
Man you feel hot. You sure? Maybe see the Dr.? I'll come with you. Let's go tomorrow. Don't panic, its government propaganda. I promise you're fine. Let me rub your back before your mother comes up here. One day I'm telling her we're getting married. Don't laugh. Put on Bonnie Pointer. Blast it. C'mere. I don't care. Shower later.
And we danced.
Two weeks later.....Huh? Is he sure? I heard those tests aren't reliable anyway. I'm not afraid. I'm really not. But I am. Really. I am. Lost touch. Didn't look back. Missed him but was scared. Acted out, acted bad, Act Up. Marched and yelled. Wore the shirts, carried the signs, used a fake name. Burnt fingers from candles, sore throat from yelling, watched friends die. Hid everything from family, and I missed him. New York subway. Waverly. Opposite sides of the tracks. Opposite cars...doors close. See each other. Wave really hard and laugh at each other. For the last time. Too young. It was real.
But we danced.
Sunday, December 3, 2017
Tuesday, November 29, 2016
Part 4 of 6
"We are not exactly sure Mr. Palmieri", was the answer I got from the Dr's. as to what caused this trauma. "We think that you tore your colon at some point and it healed by itself. Unfortunately, because of anything that may have come out into your system, you had a large amount of infected fluid inside, that we had to remove." It was explained that they did an exploratory laparotomy, with an intestinal wash.
Thus the 9 inch opening that was now on my stomach. I had a 103 fever when admitted, so the infection explained that. I was hooked up to no less that 6 IV's, with separate sites because the meds could not mix. The worst thing for me was an NG tube going from my nostril into my throat down into my stomach. It hurt, was choking me, and of course prevented me from eating or drinking anything for 12 days. So because of that I had a feeding tube inserted in the artery under my arm going into my chest.
I told them to not tell me anything anymore, and just let me try to psyche myself up to get better.
I had no clue I had sepsis, until literally 2 weeks AFTER I came home when my home nurse told me. She said, "I really admire how you have come along because of your positive attitude", and that she thought she was going to be pulling a sheet over my face when she first met me. I asked her why, and she explained that she had never treated such a large open wound and have someone who had sepsis actually survive all of this. I am glad I didn't know, as I would have been freaking out and not gotten any better. My friend later told me that he knew that I looked septic but didn't say anything, and just let them treat it with the antibiotic drips.
Just when I thought this nightmare couldn't get any worse, at some point, a surgeon came into my room (6 of them, everyday sometimes 2 or 3 times daily) and said "We will hook you up to a wound vac, that you will have for about 5 or 6 weeks after you leave." It took 3 of them to hold me down and 2 shots of morphine to accomplish this task. They put sterile sponges inside of my incision, attached a suction hose to them, and then taped them all down with an enormous square of "surgical skin" which was a medical term for clear shelf liner. This hose was then attached to a suction machine which I can only describe as some kind of compressor, with a container clipped on to it for blood. It killed me every day when they had to take it off and change the sponges and put on a new hose.
Once this hose was attached, and I don't mean tube I mean hose, they told me that walking, and breathing exercises would help heal me. Please understand that I REALLY REALLY can tolerate pain. Walking with this kind of pain seemed barbaric. Be clear though, that I wore the nurses out, because I walked so much. I needed to get well, get home and get back to my life.
Getting home became the goal. I missed my apartment and Luna like mad.
Thus the 9 inch opening that was now on my stomach. I had a 103 fever when admitted, so the infection explained that. I was hooked up to no less that 6 IV's, with separate sites because the meds could not mix. The worst thing for me was an NG tube going from my nostril into my throat down into my stomach. It hurt, was choking me, and of course prevented me from eating or drinking anything for 12 days. So because of that I had a feeding tube inserted in the artery under my arm going into my chest.
I had no clue I had sepsis, until literally 2 weeks AFTER I came home when my home nurse told me. She said, "I really admire how you have come along because of your positive attitude", and that she thought she was going to be pulling a sheet over my face when she first met me. I asked her why, and she explained that she had never treated such a large open wound and have someone who had sepsis actually survive all of this. I am glad I didn't know, as I would have been freaking out and not gotten any better. My friend later told me that he knew that I looked septic but didn't say anything, and just let them treat it with the antibiotic drips.
Just when I thought this nightmare couldn't get any worse, at some point, a surgeon came into my room (6 of them, everyday sometimes 2 or 3 times daily) and said "We will hook you up to a wound vac, that you will have for about 5 or 6 weeks after you leave." It took 3 of them to hold me down and 2 shots of morphine to accomplish this task. They put sterile sponges inside of my incision, attached a suction hose to them, and then taped them all down with an enormous square of "surgical skin" which was a medical term for clear shelf liner. This hose was then attached to a suction machine which I can only describe as some kind of compressor, with a container clipped on to it for blood. It killed me every day when they had to take it off and change the sponges and put on a new hose.
Once this hose was attached, and I don't mean tube I mean hose, they told me that walking, and breathing exercises would help heal me. Please understand that I REALLY REALLY can tolerate pain. Walking with this kind of pain seemed barbaric. Be clear though, that I wore the nurses out, because I walked so much. I needed to get well, get home and get back to my life.
Getting home became the goal. I missed my apartment and Luna like mad.
Monday, November 28, 2016
What actually happened to Jimmy? part 3
As I lay on the stretcher, waiting on surgeons, I needed to make some calls. My entire family is in NJ, and I needed to let them know. I knew that I would get voice mails because by this time it was around 1AM here, so it would be 4AM in Jersey. I called my mom, brother and sister, as well as my best friends in California, and left messages that I loved them, and that I was in Cedars. It was scary, as I didn't know if I would ever hear their voices, or see them again. I then texted my friend who has power of attorney and knows exactly what I want done in case of emergency. She was at Cedars in less than 20 minutes, which was a miracle in itself, since she lives like 30 minutes away.
I was visibly shaken, and she just held my hand as they began prepping me for surgery. I kept saying to her, "I don't want to die, I'm just not ready yet." She kept saying back to me, "You aren't going to die, you are a really strong man. You will make it through." It was all veryscary, very dramatic and almost not real. But it was real. Really real.
"Breathe deep Mr. Palmieri, take nice deep breaths," said the anesthesiologist as he put a plastic mask over my face. "I'm going to give you an IV that will calm you down," he said, as I was literally shaking so violently that I was almost falling from the stretcher. I got sleepy and the next thing I remember was waking up. The surgery was over, and in my head, it was all done and I was well.
"Do I have a colostomy?', were the first words out of my mouth to the familiar surgeon. There were 5 others, who would become a constant part of my life for the next 3 weeks. "No you don't," he responded. I was very happy and although not crying I felt tears literally dripping down the sides of my face. There was a very strange look on his face, and the faces of the other surgeons, nurses, and the half dozen other medical personnel. As I began to wake up more, I was taken to a room, where my friend and 2 other friends, a married couple, were already waiting. They were very scared, and the wife came over and kissed me on the forehead. She had been crying. The husband came over and did the same. They are my family out here, and they seemed so upset, I knew something else was coming my way. I saw all three of my friends talking to Dr's. and surgeons, and my family started texting and calling by this time. It all became a cyclone of emotion for me, and then the pain started. Bad....I mean BIG BAD.
The wife of my married friends, came over to me and tried to explain that I didn't have cancer, and didn't have a colostomy, and then rubbed her hand over my forehead and said, "They did not close you up, just in case it is decided they must go back in to surgery."
WTF??? All I could think of in my head was that I was getting punked. How the hell can they not "close someone up"?
Well it's possible I now know, and very painful. Panic set in again, and they asked everyone to leave the room. Two pain management Drs. came in with a robot. Yes a robot. It had two arms and a TV screen. They said, "We are going to get you out of pain but we will need your cooperation". When Drs. say cooperation, what they mean is, it will hurt a lot more before it gets better. They went around what I now was to understand a gaping, open wound on my belly, and stared at the TV screen while they held a camera to my stomach. When they found some nerve or artery that they wanted they positioned the robot arms on either side of me. I literally had a robot type machine hovering over me, while one Dr. held my hand and said "Just breathe and squeeze my hand. It will hurt a lot for 15 seconds then you will feel relief." Loud clicking sounds began, I was now squeezing his hand while the other Dr. guided the robot arms as they moved in closer. For about 15-20 seconds I thought I would black out from the pain of more than 10 needles (I think 5 on each side) went into my belly. They both just kept chanting to me, "Numbing you, numbing you, numbing you." I became numb, and oddly enough, didn't feel my torso anymore.
I was taken back to my room, where none of my friends seemed happy. All of them seemed like they were in a daze, and tried very hard to not frighten me anymore than I already was. One female friend held my hand, and the other just kept kissing my forehead. My male friend was as white as a ghost but kept trying to smile while saying "Buddy, everything is gonna work out."
I asked, "Am I really not closed up?", and my friend that was kissing my forehead said, "Yes, they didn't close you up, and it may be best in the long run."
I panicked, but was given a shot very quickly to calm me down. I drifted to sleep, and was dreaming of a Greek myth that I remember reading in high school. The one about a guy who angered the Gods, and was chained to a mountain or a cliff. As his punishment, an eagle would come and eat his liver out of his body, daily, for the rest of eternity. Prometheus....Prometheus was his name.
More tomorrow
I was visibly shaken, and she just held my hand as they began prepping me for surgery. I kept saying to her, "I don't want to die, I'm just not ready yet." She kept saying back to me, "You aren't going to die, you are a really strong man. You will make it through." It was all veryscary, very dramatic and almost not real. But it was real. Really real.
"Breathe deep Mr. Palmieri, take nice deep breaths," said the anesthesiologist as he put a plastic mask over my face. "I'm going to give you an IV that will calm you down," he said, as I was literally shaking so violently that I was almost falling from the stretcher. I got sleepy and the next thing I remember was waking up. The surgery was over, and in my head, it was all done and I was well.
"Do I have a colostomy?', were the first words out of my mouth to the familiar surgeon. There were 5 others, who would become a constant part of my life for the next 3 weeks. "No you don't," he responded. I was very happy and although not crying I felt tears literally dripping down the sides of my face. There was a very strange look on his face, and the faces of the other surgeons, nurses, and the half dozen other medical personnel. As I began to wake up more, I was taken to a room, where my friend and 2 other friends, a married couple, were already waiting. They were very scared, and the wife came over and kissed me on the forehead. She had been crying. The husband came over and did the same. They are my family out here, and they seemed so upset, I knew something else was coming my way. I saw all three of my friends talking to Dr's. and surgeons, and my family started texting and calling by this time. It all became a cyclone of emotion for me, and then the pain started. Bad....I mean BIG BAD.
The wife of my married friends, came over to me and tried to explain that I didn't have cancer, and didn't have a colostomy, and then rubbed her hand over my forehead and said, "They did not close you up, just in case it is decided they must go back in to surgery."
WTF??? All I could think of in my head was that I was getting punked. How the hell can they not "close someone up"?
Well it's possible I now know, and very painful. Panic set in again, and they asked everyone to leave the room. Two pain management Drs. came in with a robot. Yes a robot. It had two arms and a TV screen. They said, "We are going to get you out of pain but we will need your cooperation". When Drs. say cooperation, what they mean is, it will hurt a lot more before it gets better. They went around what I now was to understand a gaping, open wound on my belly, and stared at the TV screen while they held a camera to my stomach. When they found some nerve or artery that they wanted they positioned the robot arms on either side of me. I literally had a robot type machine hovering over me, while one Dr. held my hand and said "Just breathe and squeeze my hand. It will hurt a lot for 15 seconds then you will feel relief." Loud clicking sounds began, I was now squeezing his hand while the other Dr. guided the robot arms as they moved in closer. For about 15-20 seconds I thought I would black out from the pain of more than 10 needles (I think 5 on each side) went into my belly. They both just kept chanting to me, "Numbing you, numbing you, numbing you." I became numb, and oddly enough, didn't feel my torso anymore.
I was taken back to my room, where none of my friends seemed happy. All of them seemed like they were in a daze, and tried very hard to not frighten me anymore than I already was. One female friend held my hand, and the other just kept kissing my forehead. My male friend was as white as a ghost but kept trying to smile while saying "Buddy, everything is gonna work out."
I asked, "Am I really not closed up?", and my friend that was kissing my forehead said, "Yes, they didn't close you up, and it may be best in the long run."
I panicked, but was given a shot very quickly to calm me down. I drifted to sleep, and was dreaming of a Greek myth that I remember reading in high school. The one about a guy who angered the Gods, and was chained to a mountain or a cliff. As his punishment, an eagle would come and eat his liver out of his body, daily, for the rest of eternity. Prometheus....Prometheus was his name.
More tomorrow
Sunday, November 27, 2016
What actually happened to Jimmy?...part 2
Laying on my couch in some pain, trying to ignore it. I took Luna for a walk, and decided to come back to my apartment and just go right back to sleep on the couch. The pain was getting worse and worse. I went into the bathroom, and I noticed my stomach was starting to swell. I laid back down, and just took deep breaths.
Finally, when the pain was too much, I tried to get off of the couch and walk around. I couldn't. The pain was so intense that I couldn't even put my foot on the floor to get up. I started to panic, because a million thoughts were running through my head. My hugest concern was what to do with Luna if I were to go to the hospital. Her regular babysitter was in France, and the babysitter that just brought her back to me had already left for Great Bear for a week with her boyfriend.
I let myself fall to the floor from the couch and literally crawled to my laptop to see if anyone close by was on Facebook. My neighbor, (who has now become a good friend) was on messenger. I knew her a little, and admired how well she treated her two dogs. I typed something like, "It's Jimmy and I am very sick, can you please come and watch Luna, as I have to call 911?"
She answered in a minute or two and said, "Of course, I'll be right there." She came over, and realized more than I , as she was on the outside looking in, that I didn't have time to wait for an ambulance. She took Luna to her house and ran back to take me to Cedars.
Every bump in the street felt like a knife into my gut. She was trying her best , but the pain was so bad I was almost blacking out. We got to the emergency entrance and from what I recall, she just yelled, "Help , he needs help."
It took 4 people to get me out of the car as I couldn't move my legs or torso. I am a really tough guy when it comes to pain, but I never felt anything like this. They tried to get me on a stretcher once they wheeled me inside, but I couldn't get up from the wheelchair. The gave me a shot of morphine which did nothing. (morphine has zero effect on me) I asked for toradol, which is like a beefed up aspirin. They said no in case surgery was needed. SURGERY? What was happening?
This very nice black dude, introduced himself to me as a surgeon and said that he was sending me for a CT scan. I went down to x-ray via stretcher at this point, screaming at every turn that they made and bump in the floor that they hit. Luckily the "scan man" was a friend of mine, so he was extremely gentle and cautious.
I was taken back upstairs, and in about 25 minutes, the surgeon came back and said, "Dude this is the real deal.....I am calling in the entire GI surgical team." I literally was stunned and was speechless. The next things he said to me, I will never forget, were some of the scariest things that I have ever had to hear.
"Mr. Palmieri, I need to tell you a few things." I nodded my head as if to say OK.
"Number one, and please know I must tell you these things, is that there is a 30% chance you may not come out of this surgery alive."
WTF???? Is there anything else that could be worse I was thinking to myself.
"Number two, there is an extremely high chance that you will have a colostomy if you do survive."
This was getting worse, because most who know me, know that a colostomy is a huge fear of mine since I saw my uncle suffer with one for many years. I had always said to myself and anyone else that knew him, that I would rather be dead than have to deal with one. Now I was actually facing both.
"Number three, we need your advance directive and your power of attorney papers just in case....."
I, through excruciating pain was thinking to myself that this was really happening. In my fear, and I guess my gay brain, I kept thinking of Mia Farrow screaming as she was being raped by Satan in Rosemarie's Baby, "This is no dream, this is really happening!" I know...weird, but true.
I started to cry, and he said, "Mr. Palmieri, I am going to take good care of you, and I am not going to let you die." His words , meant as comfort just instilled more fear. I said to him "Promise me," he said, "I promise", I then said "swear to me", he said, "I can't...but I will pray loudly for you.." I said "Please ask your God to watch out for me". He asked me "Who is your God?". I responded, "I don't know, I just don't know anymore."
More tomorrow.
Finally, when the pain was too much, I tried to get off of the couch and walk around. I couldn't. The pain was so intense that I couldn't even put my foot on the floor to get up. I started to panic, because a million thoughts were running through my head. My hugest concern was what to do with Luna if I were to go to the hospital. Her regular babysitter was in France, and the babysitter that just brought her back to me had already left for Great Bear for a week with her boyfriend.
I let myself fall to the floor from the couch and literally crawled to my laptop to see if anyone close by was on Facebook. My neighbor, (who has now become a good friend) was on messenger. I knew her a little, and admired how well she treated her two dogs. I typed something like, "It's Jimmy and I am very sick, can you please come and watch Luna, as I have to call 911?"
She answered in a minute or two and said, "Of course, I'll be right there." She came over, and realized more than I , as she was on the outside looking in, that I didn't have time to wait for an ambulance. She took Luna to her house and ran back to take me to Cedars.
Every bump in the street felt like a knife into my gut. She was trying her best , but the pain was so bad I was almost blacking out. We got to the emergency entrance and from what I recall, she just yelled, "Help , he needs help."
It took 4 people to get me out of the car as I couldn't move my legs or torso. I am a really tough guy when it comes to pain, but I never felt anything like this. They tried to get me on a stretcher once they wheeled me inside, but I couldn't get up from the wheelchair. The gave me a shot of morphine which did nothing. (morphine has zero effect on me) I asked for toradol, which is like a beefed up aspirin. They said no in case surgery was needed. SURGERY? What was happening?
This very nice black dude, introduced himself to me as a surgeon and said that he was sending me for a CT scan. I went down to x-ray via stretcher at this point, screaming at every turn that they made and bump in the floor that they hit. Luckily the "scan man" was a friend of mine, so he was extremely gentle and cautious.
I was taken back upstairs, and in about 25 minutes, the surgeon came back and said, "Dude this is the real deal.....I am calling in the entire GI surgical team." I literally was stunned and was speechless. The next things he said to me, I will never forget, were some of the scariest things that I have ever had to hear.
"Mr. Palmieri, I need to tell you a few things." I nodded my head as if to say OK.
"Number one, and please know I must tell you these things, is that there is a 30% chance you may not come out of this surgery alive."
WTF???? Is there anything else that could be worse I was thinking to myself.
"Number two, there is an extremely high chance that you will have a colostomy if you do survive."
This was getting worse, because most who know me, know that a colostomy is a huge fear of mine since I saw my uncle suffer with one for many years. I had always said to myself and anyone else that knew him, that I would rather be dead than have to deal with one. Now I was actually facing both.
"Number three, we need your advance directive and your power of attorney papers just in case....."
I, through excruciating pain was thinking to myself that this was really happening. In my fear, and I guess my gay brain, I kept thinking of Mia Farrow screaming as she was being raped by Satan in Rosemarie's Baby, "This is no dream, this is really happening!" I know...weird, but true.
I started to cry, and he said, "Mr. Palmieri, I am going to take good care of you, and I am not going to let you die." His words , meant as comfort just instilled more fear. I said to him "Promise me," he said, "I promise", I then said "swear to me", he said, "I can't...but I will pray loudly for you.." I said "Please ask your God to watch out for me". He asked me "Who is your God?". I responded, "I don't know, I just don't know anymore."
More tomorrow.
Saturday, November 26, 2016
What actually happened to Jimmy
So many of you send me messages daily on what actually happened to me. I am not playing mysterious or even shy, it just is too draining to repeat over and over again. I really appreciate the concern more than you can ever know, so I decided I will blog it, in a few parts. If I try to write it all at once, I'll get into a spin and get upset.
I want to say upfront, that I do not know what the lesson to be learned was. I've always loved life, and have always appreciated every day of it, so it didn't make me appreciate my life any more. I have always and do treat people very well. It won't make me kinder. It seems to be a bit of a cruel joke, but it happened and that's that.
From the beginning. I was in San Francisco with a friend. We were having a great time, just doing what we felt like, whenever we felt like it. No schedule, no itinerary. A few meetings but nothing enough to ruin the time. We were just enjoying the beauty of staying at Fisherman's Wharf, the water, the people, the stores, and of course the amazing seafood.
We were having coffee one day in the Castro at the Country Club. For those of you who don't know of it, it is a sober hangout. It is used for meetings, socializing, hanging out and also has a cool coffee bar in it.
I got a cramping feeling in my stomach and told my friend to get the coffees and meet me outside on the outdoor patio. The cramping was intense and it was making me sweat a lot. The air was cool so I thought it best to be out there.
After a while it stopped and we went to leave and go to dinner at a french place we passed by and liked. The Country Club is an old Victorian house that was donated. It has about 16 steps to get to the sidewalk. My friend went ahead of me, thinking all was OK. She walked a few doors down, not knowing that I literally fell down the stairs from pain and was caught by this guy at the bottom. I didn't get hurt, but knew something was wrong. I am big at ignoring pain, so I did. All through dinner, then all through late night drinks and snacks.
I did tell her the next day that I was tired and was gonna stay in my room all day, and to pick me up for dinner. She was fine with that and did her own thing. I laid down all day, fighting off cramping, and believing I ate too much seafood and probably was having some kind of reaction.
She came back later and got me, and we went to dinner, but kept it slow and close to the hotel. The cramping was there but less. I laughed through dinner and just couldn't wait till the next day to get back to Weho.
The next day which was a Saturday, we flew back home, taking our time and she drops me off at my apartment. The babysitter brought Luna home, and I laid on the couch cuddling with her. Something was wrong, but I just ignored it, because I assumed I would be OK now that I was in my own apartment.
Wrong. Very wrong.
I'll write more tomorrow.
I want to say upfront, that I do not know what the lesson to be learned was. I've always loved life, and have always appreciated every day of it, so it didn't make me appreciate my life any more. I have always and do treat people very well. It won't make me kinder. It seems to be a bit of a cruel joke, but it happened and that's that.
From the beginning. I was in San Francisco with a friend. We were having a great time, just doing what we felt like, whenever we felt like it. No schedule, no itinerary. A few meetings but nothing enough to ruin the time. We were just enjoying the beauty of staying at Fisherman's Wharf, the water, the people, the stores, and of course the amazing seafood.
We were having coffee one day in the Castro at the Country Club. For those of you who don't know of it, it is a sober hangout. It is used for meetings, socializing, hanging out and also has a cool coffee bar in it.
I got a cramping feeling in my stomach and told my friend to get the coffees and meet me outside on the outdoor patio. The cramping was intense and it was making me sweat a lot. The air was cool so I thought it best to be out there.
After a while it stopped and we went to leave and go to dinner at a french place we passed by and liked. The Country Club is an old Victorian house that was donated. It has about 16 steps to get to the sidewalk. My friend went ahead of me, thinking all was OK. She walked a few doors down, not knowing that I literally fell down the stairs from pain and was caught by this guy at the bottom. I didn't get hurt, but knew something was wrong. I am big at ignoring pain, so I did. All through dinner, then all through late night drinks and snacks.
I did tell her the next day that I was tired and was gonna stay in my room all day, and to pick me up for dinner. She was fine with that and did her own thing. I laid down all day, fighting off cramping, and believing I ate too much seafood and probably was having some kind of reaction.
She came back later and got me, and we went to dinner, but kept it slow and close to the hotel. The cramping was there but less. I laughed through dinner and just couldn't wait till the next day to get back to Weho.
If you know me, that is a true sign that something is wrong, because I love San Francisco. I NEVER want to leave when I visit there.
The next day which was a Saturday, we flew back home, taking our time and she drops me off at my apartment. The babysitter brought Luna home, and I laid on the couch cuddling with her. Something was wrong, but I just ignored it, because I assumed I would be OK now that I was in my own apartment.
Wrong. Very wrong.
I'll write more tomorrow.
Monday, May 23, 2016
Sour Milk
As part of its "One City One Pride" calendar of events, on Sunday May 22, Harvey Milks actual birthday, the city of West Hollywood held a screening of the Academy Award winning Gus Van Sant film MILK. It was held in the West Hollywood city council chambers.
There was to be the film itself followed by a "panel" discussion, followed by a small reception. I arrived just as the film was starting. I have seen it probably 10 times, but haven't seen it in a year. Keeping in mind that Harvey Milk is arguably the most famous gay icon/politician/activist ever, he deserves the respect of me once again watching the story of what he lived and died for.
He was a simple man, living a simple, if not boring life in NYC until his fortieth year. Making a change and moving to San Francisco, having an "out" gay relationship in an GLBT hostile world, calling for gay rights and acceptance, he became one of the most revered men in the GLBT movement, if not actually creating a full on movement. He opened a small neighborhood camera shop in the Castro, and eventually became known as the Mayor of Castro Street, This wasn't an easy task, as he wasn't welcome with open arms by any stretch.
Milk was a showman. He had a special ability to mobilize, create and have gay men and lesbians join together for a common cause. He wanted nothing more than equality and nothing less. He was a performer. He had a talent for getting press, and after several failed attempts at becoming an elected official, he was finally elected to a seat as a city Supervisor, as an openly gay man in San Francisco. His dramatic antics, and P.T. Barnum-like personality won him many supporters, but also detractors. His life was threatened many times by mail and ominous, anonymous letters with gruesome drawings of how his genitals would be hacked from his body. He never went to the police, as he told his then partner, the police probably sent them.
As in many political marriages, his true love left because of the stress of public life. He never fell out of love with Milk, nor Milk with him. Milks next partner hung himself in their apartment for the same reasoning, more or less. Of course there were underlying mental and substance abuse problems, but as many know, gay men are prone to suicide at an alarmingly higher rate then our hetero counterparts. Lack of acceptance and familial support and lack of laws protecting our jobs, housing etc. add to the pressures of life that heteros simply do not endure. Continually being called faggot, queer, pervert and sick, and being made to believe by foes such as Anita Bryant and John Briggs through ballot initiatives, that we are unworthy , creates fertile grounds for substance abuse and mental instability.
Milk fought these political behemoth's fearlessly. He "collected" throwaways, like Cleve Jones (founder of the names project) and others who had no direction or anywhere to go. I know Cleve. I have interviewed him several times. He is a strong proud gay man, and has become part of our amazing history.
Milk's story doesn't end on a happy note. He had premonitions of being assassinated, and on November 27th 1978, he and his friend Mayor Moscone, a straight ally were shot and killed by resigned supervisor Dan White. His arrest and trial were cause for outrage, as his lawyers claimed his diet of junk food, later to be coined "the twinkie defense" got him only 5 years for manslaughter for these clearly premeditated murders. After the trial and decision by jurors, more than 3000 people charged through the Castro to city hall, breaking doors, trampling police cars, and demanding justice. They became known as The White Night Riots. NO ONE WAS ARRESTED.
More than 30,000 supporters and mourners walked through the Castro to city hall to show respect for the fallen hero. He was and is a legend. If not for him there would not be us. He started a movement that to this day exists, still fighting the religious right, the homophobes, the uninformed. He always said "You gotta give 'em hope." He did just that.
The panel was moderated by veteran lesbian journalist Karen Ocamb. She was the right person for the job. She was there. She covered all of this. If not for her, I would have left. The rest of the panel was made up of lesbians. I found it so inappropriate and so careless to have an entirely lesbian panel. NOT A SINGLE GAY MALE WAS ON THE PANEL.
How can this be? DON'T ASK ME.....And don't try to say that we have a lack of qualified men that could have given insight as to what it is like to be a gay male activist in this country. It was offensive to say the least. The sadder part was that the panel did not seem to be acutely aware of Milk. When Karen asked questions, one panelist looked at her as though she had no clue what to say, and Karen literally said, "There will be hard questions."
It was said that one panelist never heard of him till she moved to West Hollywood, one answer to a relative question was "ditto" referring to another panelists answers. I do not know how I held my head from exploding. What I do know is that if this were about a lesbian activist, we would have searched high and low for lesbian panelists, or there would have been a backlash, the likes of which we have not seen since....well since Pride took away the Trans party.
Our Mayor Lauren Meister asked why we didn't have a bigger turnout. One guess Madame Mayor is that THERE WERE NO GAY MEN INCLUDED IN THE DISCUSSION. I am not interested in excuses that there weren't any to find. I HAVE BEEN IN THIS MOVEMENT FOR NEARLY 30 YEARS. MY PHONE DIDN'T RING. Don't like my attitude? It's that attitude that has accomplished making meth/recovery/homelessness all forefront priorities. There is a little group known as Stonewall with several accomplished gay male activists to choose from. There are non profits that have activists employed and available for the asking. This was not thought out, not well done, and not outreached.
Towards the end, a lesbian from the audience started talking about Bernie and Hillary. Karen, the moderator tried to curtail it, only to hear screams of misogyny, misogyny, then and now. REALLY? We are chanting misogyny at a tribute to Harvey Milk? My heart was broken and I left. I had waited weeks for this, even posting it on Face Book. I wish I stayed home and watched MILK on pay per view. I think I might have felt more in tune to what Milk's message was.
My call to action is for the city, the city council members, staff and boards to start creating a list of available activists that are appropriate for a panel. I propose listing men and women, categorizing them and calling upon them as needed. NO PANEL IS BETTER THAN A BAD PANEL.
I am just grateful for Karen Ocamb, or I would have left way before the panel was over.
 |
| West Hollywood Mayor Lauren Meister |
There was to be the film itself followed by a "panel" discussion, followed by a small reception. I arrived just as the film was starting. I have seen it probably 10 times, but haven't seen it in a year. Keeping in mind that Harvey Milk is arguably the most famous gay icon/politician/activist ever, he deserves the respect of me once again watching the story of what he lived and died for.
 |
| legendary gay male icon/activist/politician Harvey Milk |
He was a simple man, living a simple, if not boring life in NYC until his fortieth year. Making a change and moving to San Francisco, having an "out" gay relationship in an GLBT hostile world, calling for gay rights and acceptance, he became one of the most revered men in the GLBT movement, if not actually creating a full on movement. He opened a small neighborhood camera shop in the Castro, and eventually became known as the Mayor of Castro Street, This wasn't an easy task, as he wasn't welcome with open arms by any stretch.
Milk was a showman. He had a special ability to mobilize, create and have gay men and lesbians join together for a common cause. He wanted nothing more than equality and nothing less. He was a performer. He had a talent for getting press, and after several failed attempts at becoming an elected official, he was finally elected to a seat as a city Supervisor, as an openly gay man in San Francisco. His dramatic antics, and P.T. Barnum-like personality won him many supporters, but also detractors. His life was threatened many times by mail and ominous, anonymous letters with gruesome drawings of how his genitals would be hacked from his body. He never went to the police, as he told his then partner, the police probably sent them.
As in many political marriages, his true love left because of the stress of public life. He never fell out of love with Milk, nor Milk with him. Milks next partner hung himself in their apartment for the same reasoning, more or less. Of course there were underlying mental and substance abuse problems, but as many know, gay men are prone to suicide at an alarmingly higher rate then our hetero counterparts. Lack of acceptance and familial support and lack of laws protecting our jobs, housing etc. add to the pressures of life that heteros simply do not endure. Continually being called faggot, queer, pervert and sick, and being made to believe by foes such as Anita Bryant and John Briggs through ballot initiatives, that we are unworthy , creates fertile grounds for substance abuse and mental instability.
Milk fought these political behemoth's fearlessly. He "collected" throwaways, like Cleve Jones (founder of the names project) and others who had no direction or anywhere to go. I know Cleve. I have interviewed him several times. He is a strong proud gay man, and has become part of our amazing history.
More than 30,000 supporters and mourners walked through the Castro to city hall to show respect for the fallen hero. He was and is a legend. If not for him there would not be us. He started a movement that to this day exists, still fighting the religious right, the homophobes, the uninformed. He always said "You gotta give 'em hope." He did just that.
The panel was moderated by veteran lesbian journalist Karen Ocamb. She was the right person for the job. She was there. She covered all of this. If not for her, I would have left. The rest of the panel was made up of lesbians. I found it so inappropriate and so careless to have an entirely lesbian panel. NOT A SINGLE GAY MALE WAS ON THE PANEL.
 |
| no gay men |
 |
| Moderator, legendary lesbian journalist Karen Ocamb telling a panelist "There will be hard questions." |
 |
| lesbian only panelists |
Our Mayor Lauren Meister asked why we didn't have a bigger turnout. One guess Madame Mayor is that THERE WERE NO GAY MEN INCLUDED IN THE DISCUSSION. I am not interested in excuses that there weren't any to find. I HAVE BEEN IN THIS MOVEMENT FOR NEARLY 30 YEARS. MY PHONE DIDN'T RING. Don't like my attitude? It's that attitude that has accomplished making meth/recovery/homelessness all forefront priorities. There is a little group known as Stonewall with several accomplished gay male activists to choose from. There are non profits that have activists employed and available for the asking. This was not thought out, not well done, and not outreached.
Towards the end, a lesbian from the audience started talking about Bernie and Hillary. Karen, the moderator tried to curtail it, only to hear screams of misogyny, misogyny, then and now. REALLY? We are chanting misogyny at a tribute to Harvey Milk? My heart was broken and I left. I had waited weeks for this, even posting it on Face Book. I wish I stayed home and watched MILK on pay per view. I think I might have felt more in tune to what Milk's message was.
My call to action is for the city, the city council members, staff and boards to start creating a list of available activists that are appropriate for a panel. I propose listing men and women, categorizing them and calling upon them as needed. NO PANEL IS BETTER THAN A BAD PANEL.
I am just grateful for Karen Ocamb, or I would have left way before the panel was over.
Saturday, May 30, 2015
The Last West Hollywood Debate..or Down the Rabbit Hole.
The Last of the Debates….Proof positive of the need to elect Heilman.
While I was walking to Monday night's candidate debate for our
special election for a single West Hollywood city council seat this Tuesday June 2, I was not sure
what I was walking into. Having a
citizen host a debate at their home is unprecedented. I arrived before anyone,
so if I felt uncomfortable I could bail.
It was nice. The host, Nir, was excited,
gregarious, and sometimes absolutely funny in how he moderated.
THE CANDIDATES
Heidi Shink arrived
first, with her parents. She is a
current Planning Commissioner and previous Human Services Commissioner. Her campaign has been riddled with investigation allegations, impropriety allegations, lies and egregious mistakes on LGBT issues.
Larry Block,
arrived after her. A local businessman, fierce neighborhood
advocate and well liked guy. His campaign has been clean. He accepted no developer dollars.
John Heilman
was there moments later. John is a
former Weho Council member of nearly 30years.
He is currently a Professor of law, running to regain a seat on the
council. His 30 year history of politics and activism is almost unattainable by most.
Cole Ettmon-
Came late left early. Sometimes
schedules do not always permit participation.
He tried while he was there but nothing of note was said in such a short
time.
Nir, the host, gave
very specific instructions to the candidates.
There was to be no negativity, although comically, it was he himself who
provided us with special moments of
negativity in his stories in between, and sometimes during candidate responses.
I watched closely for body language and listened intently
for tone and knowledge as the candidates answered. Here are a few questions I thought most
important.
WOULD YOU CONSIDER A LAW
REQUIRING ALL LANDLORDS TO ALLOW PETS?
Block- Answered as a landlord. He loves animals, and has a dog of his
own. He does not see how a city could
demand that a landlord accept pets. He
didn’t support it, but let us know how important he thought pets were.
Shink-Yes. She noted there are more than 10,000 dogs in
the city. She supports laws allowing
pets as she has 2 of her own. Her answer
wasn’t very detailed, but her point came across. Unfortunately, I do not think she is aware that you CANNOT force a landlord to allow pets if they so choose not to.
Heilman-
Knowing his answer might not be the popular one, he stated the truth. We cannot force a landlord to allow pets in
their buildings. However, he was
knowledgeable about laws that we have that do allow you to have a pet even if
you live in a no pet building. There are
laws allowing seniors, HIV/AIDS patients and disabled. We allow 2 dogs or cats less than
35 pounds with a medical letter stating you need a support animal. .
The other candidates did not seem to be aware of the details, although
Block seemed to have some knowledge as he was a Disabilities Advisory Board
member. .
The Ellis Act
is the ability to “go out of the business of being a landlord” and evicting all
of your tenants. It’s a law that has
been used by landlords, oft to raise rents or to sell to developers. FOR BIG MONEY. How
would each candidate deal with it?
Shink- She
said she would want to try hard to repeal the Ellis Act, at least in part by
making it harder to enforce. She didn’t
seem sure of her response. Rightly so,
as I am not exactly sure she was getting her point across.
Heilman- Let
us know that we have one of the strictest rent stabilization laws of almost
anywhere in Ca. He helped draft those
laws as such. He went on to tell us that
we have lobbyists in Sacramento fighting for the city to try to lessen the
impact of the Ellis Act. He knew that we
have longer grace periods for evictions of seniors and disabled, there are
higher relocation fees for the most vulnerable and explained that Weho has very
little control of Sacramento’s enforcement of the law, but that we are trying
to lessen its impact. This answer came
easy for him, he was extremely knowledgeable about it.
Block- As
always showed compassion for anyone “Ellissed” and agreed that it would be
great to try to lessen the impact as well.
Inclussionary Housing
Heilman made
it clear, that he is now and always has been a champion of inclusionary
housing. He wants affordable units
included in new development, and pointed out that without smart development
there could be NO NEW AFFORDABLE/INCLUSSIONARY HOUSING.
There is a law that states new development must include or pay a fee towards the development of inclussionary
housing. He has fought against
naysayers, and has sometimes been the target of attack because of
development. Housing the most vulnerable
is important to him. He sees the reality
and need for development in order to provide these services.
Shink,
answered well, although not as precise or as clearly thought out as
Heilman. She supports inclusionary
housing, but doesn’t seem to want development.
This isn’t a dichotomy. Many new
candidates say the same. They want to
make sure they don’t isolate or anger anyone.
She is walking a tightrope no doubt.
She was forceful with her answer, but it came across as a tactic. She panders to pro developers and anti developers. This is a red flag for me.
 |
| Candidate Heidi Shink at the Beverly Hills Hotel Polo Lounge breaking the LGBT boycott on the establishement with her "power lesbian" friends as they state on twitter. She texted a lie to me whe I asked her and she said she was only driving by to pick up a friends mom. She wasn't aware her picture was already in the paper. LIES RAISE RED FLAGS FOR ME. |
 |
| Candidate John Heilman, answering questions truthfully without pandering. |
 |
| Candidate Larry Block contemplating his answer. |
Block, agreed
with Heilman, and said he was for inclusionary housing, and wanted it scattered
throughout the city by actually including it in the new buildings. He seemed confident.
WOULD YOU CONSIDER ADDING
MORE METH/DRUG PREVENTION/SERVICES TO THE SOCIAL SERVICE BUDGET WITH MORE
DOLLARS ALLOTTED?
Block- Yes
and is involved in the sober working group (I am adding this). He advocates for more dollars for drug
addiction services as well as homeless shelters.
Shink- Yes
and noted that when she was a Human Services Commissioner, she wanted more
money to be spent. She also revealed she
had more than 20 years of sobriety, and understood the need. She has claimed during her campaign to have been part of the creation of sober events like #BOOM! and #SIZZLE, which is untrue It is simply another painted story to make an empty resume appear full.
Heilman- His
answer was not an immediate yes. I think
all eyes were on him at that moment. He
was the only candidate to fully explain that in order to provide dollars to new
organizations, they would have to meet West Hollywood’s scope of service. This means they have high standards to reach,
as we would be spending tax payer dollars which are not to be gambled
with. He would be open to more dollars
being spent, but again , as long as we
are getting what we pay for.
My vote is going to Heilman.
It was clear that he has the most knowledge, deals in reality, and isn’t
trying to pander. I do not always agree
with everything he says or does, but at this turning point of our city hood, he
is needed. 30 years of experience does
not translate to entitlement to me. It
translates as a person willing to give most of their life to a city that they
love. He has accomplished more than any
candidate and sitting council member could hope for. He is sometimes distant, but is always there
for his city. I admire that. I admire that he campaigns without referring
to other candidates negatively and that he is willing to take hits that are
thrown his way, and yet still want to be involved. I hope he has your vote as we look ahead at a
city that we all love.
Saturday, March 14, 2015
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
JUST BITE ME.....: LILLY'S STORY....PART 4...LILLY DOESN'T LIKE GENTL...
JUST BITE ME.....: LILLY'S STORY....PART 4...LILLY DOESN'T LIKE GENTL...: I originally thought I would do 3 or 4 parts to this blog and tell about Lilly and my life with her. I now don't know how may I will w...
JUST BITE ME.....: LILLY'S STORY....PART 4...LILLY DOESN'T LIKE GENTL...
JUST BITE ME.....: LILLY'S STORY....PART 4...LILLY DOESN'T LIKE GENTL...: I originally thought I would do 3 or 4 parts to this blog and tell about Lilly and my life with her. I now don't know how may I will w...
LILLY'S STORY....PART 4...LILLY DOESN'T LIKE GENTLEMEN CALLERS
I originally thought I would do 3 or 4 parts to this blog and tell about Lilly and my life with her. I now don't know how may I will write. I will know when to stop, just like I knew when to say goodbye to her. Maybe I am not ready to say goodbye again yet, so I will just keep writing and sharing with you.
When Lilly's other dad left, after a period of time and adjustment, I thought I'd start dating and hopefully find a different "other dad" for her. It seemed like a smart idea, as I, at the time had never been without a partner, and wasn't feeling like I could be a single guy forever. Also, there are three to a "pack" and she was showing signs of sadness over her pack breaking up.
Where to start. I met Lilly's other dad on a "hook up" site for just a one night stand. That lasted 8 years, so I thought I'd do that again. Things changed a lot in eight years (including me). I wanted to make sure I found just the right "step dad" for her, so I went by the rule of "practice makes perfect.....".
Lilly seemed to instinctively know that Adam 4 Adam was not going to be the place. I would even show her who was coming over, holding her up to the laptop asking what she thought. I swear this is true. She never had any interest and just would jump off my lap. When my practice dads would show up, she would get a Mohawk down her back, and mad dog them until I could get her into the other room. This went on for a while, until I finally
met someone worthwhile. It wasn't from a site, it was just a chance meeting. Lilly didn't like him right away. He was patient as I told him how important she was to me.
One night about a month into knowing him, he came over as usual to pick me up for dinner. Up until this point she had been indifferent with him. He was patient and persistent and always was attentive to her. For some reason, this time when he came into Lilly's apartment, she said "Hello" to him in her guttural voice that I have told you about.
He did a double take, as he thought I was teasing him about her talking. He laughed so hard, and she wagged her tail, for the first time with him. He knelt down and she kissed his face. Since this was a big deal to him, he asked if we could order in, as he wanted to take advantage of this new progress.
He talked back to her in the same type of voice, and she jumped into his lap. This was a huge change, and I thought well, maybe this is her step dad. The truth is, he was handsome, sweet, fun, and now liked by Lilly. I just hate to say this, but the first guy you date after an 8 year marriage is never going to be the one. I made a lot of mistakes, and just wasn't putting in a lot of effort.
Obviously, it was just Lilly and I again.
LILLY'S STORY....PART 5 NEXT......DAD, IS HE TOO YOUNG FOR YOU?
When Lilly's other dad left, after a period of time and adjustment, I thought I'd start dating and hopefully find a different "other dad" for her. It seemed like a smart idea, as I, at the time had never been without a partner, and wasn't feeling like I could be a single guy forever. Also, there are three to a "pack" and she was showing signs of sadness over her pack breaking up.
Where to start. I met Lilly's other dad on a "hook up" site for just a one night stand. That lasted 8 years, so I thought I'd do that again. Things changed a lot in eight years (including me). I wanted to make sure I found just the right "step dad" for her, so I went by the rule of "practice makes perfect.....".
Lilly seemed to instinctively know that Adam 4 Adam was not going to be the place. I would even show her who was coming over, holding her up to the laptop asking what she thought. I swear this is true. She never had any interest and just would jump off my lap. When my practice dads would show up, she would get a Mohawk down her back, and mad dog them until I could get her into the other room. This went on for a while, until I finally
One night about a month into knowing him, he came over as usual to pick me up for dinner. Up until this point she had been indifferent with him. He was patient and persistent and always was attentive to her. For some reason, this time when he came into Lilly's apartment, she said "Hello" to him in her guttural voice that I have told you about.
He did a double take, as he thought I was teasing him about her talking. He laughed so hard, and she wagged her tail, for the first time with him. He knelt down and she kissed his face. Since this was a big deal to him, he asked if we could order in, as he wanted to take advantage of this new progress.
He talked back to her in the same type of voice, and she jumped into his lap. This was a huge change, and I thought well, maybe this is her step dad. The truth is, he was handsome, sweet, fun, and now liked by Lilly. I just hate to say this, but the first guy you date after an 8 year marriage is never going to be the one. I made a lot of mistakes, and just wasn't putting in a lot of effort.
Obviously, it was just Lilly and I again.
LILLY'S STORY....PART 5 NEXT......DAD, IS HE TOO YOUNG FOR YOU?
Friday, December 5, 2014
JUST BITE ME.....: LILLY'S STORY....Part 3
JUST BITE ME.....: LILLY'S STORY....Part 3: After a while, Lilly was out of harms way health wise, although I am convinced that the toxic baths affected her health in the long term. T...
JUST BITE ME.....: LILLY'S STORY....Part 3
JUST BITE ME.....: LILLY'S STORY....Part 3: After a while, Lilly was out of harms way health wise, although I am convinced that the toxic baths affected her health in the long term. T...
LILLY'S STORY....Part 3
After a while, Lilly was out of harms way health wise, although I am convinced that the toxic baths affected her health in the long term. There is no other treatment when the mange is that bad, so we had no options.
She was very comfortable in HER new home with her two dads. My ex loved her, and spoiled her like I have never seen before. He never had a dog, and told me he didn't realize how much he could actually love one. He would leave for the office int the morning, and I'd write all day at home , with Lilly on my lap. I played with her or touched her constantly, to reassure her that she was loved.
When my ex came home he kissed her hello first all of the time, because she demanded it, which made me laugh. She literally learned how to say hello, in a very guttural voice and did it probably 25 times a day. People would always be in shock the first time they heard it.
She became a little bit of a celebrity in my area, and most knew her, and loved her. She even made the inside cover of the Chamber of Commerce's Yearly Book. So many of my neighbors would ask me if they could keep her, or kidnap her when I wasn't around. One day the Mayor was giving a speech at the park. Every time he spoke into the mic Lilly barked at him. The audience began to laugh, and he finally responded with, "Well, seemingly, Jimmy is not the only princess in the Palmieri
home." With so many people knowing her and where we lived I always felt safe, in that if by some accident she ran out a door she would be brought back to me immediately. Oh, she also had 2 name tags, a chip, a city tag, a county tag and a collar with our number on it. I'm Italian. We are overprotective by nature.
What many people don't know, is that I have a chronic disorder that I was born with that requires me to have a transfusion every 4 weeks. I am not telling this for sympathy, believe me I played that card to death as a kid. I am telling you this because of Lilly's reactions. The treatment arrives in a Styrofoam cooler wrapped in ice blocks. She would start to sniff as soon as the courier would leave. I noticed she would pace whenever this was delivered and get very clingy to me. The next day a nurse comes to my home and for 7 hours I receive this treatment. Lilly has never snapped, snarled or growled a single time in her life. When the nurses would arrive, she would block them from getting to me, in a sort of playful, but focused way. When they would prep my arms, she would jump on my lap, and never bite them, but push their hands away from me with her snout. They would laugh and call her "Miss Lilly, the biggest little guard dog ever." She then would lay next to me and not move for the entire 7 hours, except to prevent the nurses from taking my blood pressure or temperature. This week was very very hard for me, as it was the first time in 12 years that I didn't have my little guard with me, and my nurse was so sad herself, that she started cleaning. This is a chemo certified nurse, and she was cleaning my apartment, to occupy her and my mind. Love her. We got through it. We sometimes have no choices in this life.
Lilly's two dads really loved each other. It was a very happy home. As things go though, we grew apart. Sometimes there are just unpreventable things that happen that cannot be reversed. There are things in this life, that we wish we could un-see. That of course is not reality. No, there was no cheating. Sometimes, other factors are involved.
We divorced, which by the way, sending my check to the Attorney General to dissolve our partnership, was not a party for me at all. I told my now ex, that I had more time to spend with Lilly than he did, and he agreed. He moved out, but came to visit her quite a bit. She, however, would lay by the door when he left crying for him to come back. When this kept going on, I asked him to please not visit her, as she stares at the door waiting and crying, and it couldn't be healthy for her. He respected my wishes, and I am grateful for that forever. We were together for 8 years, and a family with Lilly for 4 years I think. I have nothing but amazing thoughts of him, and wherever he is, I always pray that he is well.
Lilly and I got used to the fact, that her other dad was gone. I had to develop some type of life after that.
Lilly's story,.....Part 4 tomorrow. Lilly is not fond of gentleman callers......
She was very comfortable in HER new home with her two dads. My ex loved her, and spoiled her like I have never seen before. He never had a dog, and told me he didn't realize how much he could actually love one. He would leave for the office int the morning, and I'd write all day at home , with Lilly on my lap. I played with her or touched her constantly, to reassure her that she was loved.
When my ex came home he kissed her hello first all of the time, because she demanded it, which made me laugh. She literally learned how to say hello, in a very guttural voice and did it probably 25 times a day. People would always be in shock the first time they heard it.
She became a little bit of a celebrity in my area, and most knew her, and loved her. She even made the inside cover of the Chamber of Commerce's Yearly Book. So many of my neighbors would ask me if they could keep her, or kidnap her when I wasn't around. One day the Mayor was giving a speech at the park. Every time he spoke into the mic Lilly barked at him. The audience began to laugh, and he finally responded with, "Well, seemingly, Jimmy is not the only princess in the Palmieri
What many people don't know, is that I have a chronic disorder that I was born with that requires me to have a transfusion every 4 weeks. I am not telling this for sympathy, believe me I played that card to death as a kid. I am telling you this because of Lilly's reactions. The treatment arrives in a Styrofoam cooler wrapped in ice blocks. She would start to sniff as soon as the courier would leave. I noticed she would pace whenever this was delivered and get very clingy to me. The next day a nurse comes to my home and for 7 hours I receive this treatment. Lilly has never snapped, snarled or growled a single time in her life. When the nurses would arrive, she would block them from getting to me, in a sort of playful, but focused way. When they would prep my arms, she would jump on my lap, and never bite them, but push their hands away from me with her snout. They would laugh and call her "Miss Lilly, the biggest little guard dog ever." She then would lay next to me and not move for the entire 7 hours, except to prevent the nurses from taking my blood pressure or temperature. This week was very very hard for me, as it was the first time in 12 years that I didn't have my little guard with me, and my nurse was so sad herself, that she started cleaning. This is a chemo certified nurse, and she was cleaning my apartment, to occupy her and my mind. Love her. We got through it. We sometimes have no choices in this life.
Lilly's two dads really loved each other. It was a very happy home. As things go though, we grew apart. Sometimes there are just unpreventable things that happen that cannot be reversed. There are things in this life, that we wish we could un-see. That of course is not reality. No, there was no cheating. Sometimes, other factors are involved.
We divorced, which by the way, sending my check to the Attorney General to dissolve our partnership, was not a party for me at all. I told my now ex, that I had more time to spend with Lilly than he did, and he agreed. He moved out, but came to visit her quite a bit. She, however, would lay by the door when he left crying for him to come back. When this kept going on, I asked him to please not visit her, as she stares at the door waiting and crying, and it couldn't be healthy for her. He respected my wishes, and I am grateful for that forever. We were together for 8 years, and a family with Lilly for 4 years I think. I have nothing but amazing thoughts of him, and wherever he is, I always pray that he is well.
Lilly and I got used to the fact, that her other dad was gone. I had to develop some type of life after that.
Lilly's story,.....Part 4 tomorrow. Lilly is not fond of gentleman callers......
Thursday, December 4, 2014
JUST BITE ME.....: LILLY'S STORY....PART 2
JUST BITE ME.....: LILLY'S STORY....PART 2: "Why did you buy this dog?", "she is dying." That was what the vet said to me as I brought my new puppy into the office...
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
JUST BITE ME.....: LILLY'S STORY....PART 2
JUST BITE ME.....: LILLY'S STORY....PART 2: "Why did you buy this dog?", "she is dying." That was what the vet said to me as I brought my new puppy into the office...
LILLY'S STORY....PART 2
"Why did you buy this dog?", "she is dying." That was what the vet said to me as I brought my new puppy into the office directly from the pet store. He told me that she had generalized demodectic mange, but to the point that he didn't think he could treat her and have her survive.
"Please just do what has to be done to make her well. I know she wants to live." I said. He explained he had to scrub off the scabs on her skin, she had to have very toxic baths of a chemical called mitaban every week, and it would be costly.
"When do we start?" I asked. He told me she was totally dehydrated and had to be on IV's immediately. I stayed with her till she had them. He then explained, that she had ear infections, tooth infections, etc. etc. We treated those with antibiotics, and I was to cover her with a soothing cream 2x a day. I could do that. After the antibiotics were through he would begin the toxic baths.
I knew she was used to a cage, and I didn't want to shock her totally, so I went to buy her one that I would fill with blankets and her feet wouldn't fall through or be bruised on the metal anymore. The problem was that since she was so small, even the smallest dog cage was too big and would not allow her to feel secure in a strange place, (my apt. her new home). There was a bird store across from the vets office and I brought her there and bought her a pigeon cage. It was perfect.
I took her home to meet her other dad again and he loved her right away. I then was going to take her for her first walk, albeit short because of her being so weak. To me she was so beautiful,that we decided we would call her Lilly, because we had faith she would blossom into a beautiful flower after a while. Sadly anyone with a dog, would pull them away from her for fear of their dog catching what she had. Demodectic is not contagious, as it is from a weakened immune system and stress, both of which she had . Other people, of course didn't know this, and wouldn't allow their dogs near her. I was very sad, but we gave her so much attention inside, that I hoped she wouldn't feel sad also.
She screamed all night the first night, but I held my hand in her cage and she finally fell asleep with her tiny head in my hand through the cage door.
My husband was worried she wouldn't make it, and that I'd be heartbroken, but I just knew she would. She ate a little, began to respond and not hide, and started staring at me all of the time. Anywhere I went she dragged her weakened body to follow me. She was a trooper with the cream, and ultimately the toxic baths and unbearably painful weekly skin scrapings. She would sleep for a day after each time, as the medicine is that toxic. I'd just lay down on the floor with her, and rub her scabbed skin, hoping she might have some hair growth one day. The nurses at the vets all would always shake their head , assuring me that anything is possible.
Eight weeks into the baths and skin scrapings the Dr. came into the office with a huge smile. He said, "Unbelievably, your little dog has some new hair growth. He was so happy, but shocked. I was happy, but knew all along Lilly was going to be with me for a long time. Her hair grew so thick over the months to come, and in the most beautiful dappled colors. She began to make friends at the park, and was getting very strong and becoming very funny.
She learned every trick she ever knew all in one day, as I sat with her and laughed because she kept giving me her paw over and over so I would kiss her again.
Part three tomorrow....when dad's divorce.
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JUST BITE ME.....: Lilly's story.....part one.
JUST BITE ME.....: Lilly's story.....part one.: "Is that a baby pig?", I said to myself as I walked past the now closed pet store on Santa Monica Blvd. in West Hollywood, I nev...
Lilly's story.....part one.
"Is that a baby pig?", I said to myself as I walked past the now closed pet store on Santa Monica Blvd. in West Hollywood, I never go into pet stores because they depress me, and make me truly angry, as I watch the dogs and cats in what seems to be one step away from hell.
For some reason I was drawn in, just to see if the pink little animal that was in the cage, that seemed to be way in the back of the store far away from the other cages, was truly a pig. To my shock it was a little puppy, who looked at me as if to say, "Please help". The sign on the cage said "male double dappled dachshund reduced for quick sale, 7 months old". This creature looked like it was a week old, never mind 7 months.
I had just had a heart attack a few weeks before (congenital, I wasn't even 40 yet). I could feel my heart racing and I literally had to pop a nitro and leave the store. I walked home and was so upset that my ex husband could see something was wrong. I told him and begged him to come back to the store with me. He had just walked in from the office and was tired, but he saw the distress I was in and he said, "Sure, let's go."
We walked the 3 or 4 blocks back to the store, but it was already closed. I told him I wanted the puppy, would it be OK if I went again tomorrow to look and possibly buy him? He said something like ,"Jimmy, do you know what it is like to say no to you when you think what you are doing is the right thing?" in an effort to make me smile. I never slept a wink that night.
The next day I called my friend George up and asked if he would come to look at the puppy with me, and help me if I were to buy him. He was happy to, but had to do it on his lunch hour which was at 1pm. I could wait, as I needed to try to calm myself before going there anyway.
I met George there at exactly 1, and showed him the male puppy that had not a hair on it body, due to non treatment of mange. George assured me that I needed to buy the puppy, and it was a good move, but that mange that bad was going to be a challenge.
.
I went to the owner, who I wasn't even trying to pretend to be kind to, and asked, " How much is that puppy?...She said, "He is going to be put down because of his mange, but honestly someone came in this morning at 8am today to look at him also." I said, "You are putting him down and someone else has looked at him after 7 months?" She said , "Yes", and told me his name. It was of course my ex husband. I told her so, and she asked if I was Jimmy. I answered, "Yes and I would like to buy him.", to which she replied "well he is $1000.00 with papers."
I assured her that if she didn't accept the $300 that I had in my pocket, that I would call every paper in town, file a report at city hall, and call the Humane Society with a detailed report on her animal hell that she was running , that was made pretty with a neon sign in the window.
Her brute of a husband who resembled Dawg the Bounty Hunter told her to take the $300. and call it a day.
I now had a very sick FEMALE dachshund. These people didn't even know what gender she was!
I purchased a leash, and, as I was leaving the woman said, "I hope you will treat her well." I bit my tongue, as I wanted to say , "Lady, if I tossed her into a trash can for tomorrows pickup, I will have treated her better than you ever have."
I didn't have a name for my new dog yet, and when her feet touched the ground she started shaking. She had never been out of her cage for 7 months I was later told by an ex employee. Her feet were not used to solid ground. I took her immediately to the vet.
part two tomorrow.
For some reason I was drawn in, just to see if the pink little animal that was in the cage, that seemed to be way in the back of the store far away from the other cages, was truly a pig. To my shock it was a little puppy, who looked at me as if to say, "Please help". The sign on the cage said "male double dappled dachshund reduced for quick sale, 7 months old". This creature looked like it was a week old, never mind 7 months.
I had just had a heart attack a few weeks before (congenital, I wasn't even 40 yet). I could feel my heart racing and I literally had to pop a nitro and leave the store. I walked home and was so upset that my ex husband could see something was wrong. I told him and begged him to come back to the store with me. He had just walked in from the office and was tired, but he saw the distress I was in and he said, "Sure, let's go."
We walked the 3 or 4 blocks back to the store, but it was already closed. I told him I wanted the puppy, would it be OK if I went again tomorrow to look and possibly buy him? He said something like ,"Jimmy, do you know what it is like to say no to you when you think what you are doing is the right thing?" in an effort to make me smile. I never slept a wink that night.
The next day I called my friend George up and asked if he would come to look at the puppy with me, and help me if I were to buy him. He was happy to, but had to do it on his lunch hour which was at 1pm. I could wait, as I needed to try to calm myself before going there anyway.
I met George there at exactly 1, and showed him the male puppy that had not a hair on it body, due to non treatment of mange. George assured me that I needed to buy the puppy, and it was a good move, but that mange that bad was going to be a challenge.
.
I went to the owner, who I wasn't even trying to pretend to be kind to, and asked, " How much is that puppy?...She said, "He is going to be put down because of his mange, but honestly someone came in this morning at 8am today to look at him also." I said, "You are putting him down and someone else has looked at him after 7 months?" She said , "Yes", and told me his name. It was of course my ex husband. I told her so, and she asked if I was Jimmy. I answered, "Yes and I would like to buy him.", to which she replied "well he is $1000.00 with papers."
I assured her that if she didn't accept the $300 that I had in my pocket, that I would call every paper in town, file a report at city hall, and call the Humane Society with a detailed report on her animal hell that she was running , that was made pretty with a neon sign in the window.
Her brute of a husband who resembled Dawg the Bounty Hunter told her to take the $300. and call it a day.
I now had a very sick FEMALE dachshund. These people didn't even know what gender she was!
I purchased a leash, and, as I was leaving the woman said, "I hope you will treat her well." I bit my tongue, as I wanted to say , "Lady, if I tossed her into a trash can for tomorrows pickup, I will have treated her better than you ever have."
I didn't have a name for my new dog yet, and when her feet touched the ground she started shaking. She had never been out of her cage for 7 months I was later told by an ex employee. Her feet were not used to solid ground. I took her immediately to the vet.
part two tomorrow.
Monday, December 1, 2014
JUST BITE ME.....: AN OLD COLUMN OF MINE THAT I RUN EVERY WORLD AIDS ...
JUST BITE ME.....: AN OLD COLUMN OF MINE THAT I RUN EVERY WORLD AIDS ...: Time out for: Gay Cancer, GRIDS, AIDS and HIV My first gay friend to die of AIDS jimmy palmieri | December 01, 2005 More tha...
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