People come into your life; some for a day, a month, or year even a life time. I believe God puts them all in our lives for a time, however short or long, for a reason. Whether it is to comfort us, teach us, make us stronger, or show us the error of our ways; each person affects our lives.
Ten months ago a person entered my life. I have friends who read this blog and will know who I am talking about but at this point I don’t care anymore. To keep things a bit anonymous we will call him George.
George was a patient at a local AIDS hospice house when he entered my life. My partner has known him for years and dated him when he was 18 years old and he is now 33. We received a call from a mutual friend telling my partner that George was in the home dying from complications from AIDS, chronic hepatitis, and a very dangerously damaged liver. When I first saw him at the hospice house he was totally emancipated with no will to live. A shell of a former man who some had told me was considered one of the most beautiful men in Tulsa at one time.
My partner and I both felt a lot of sympathy for George. My partner was out in the gay world back in the 1980’s when AIDS first hit the United States making its way to the Mid-West. Virtually an entire generation of gay men in our part of The United States was wiped out by the disease. I was an AIDS awareness activist in college in the Mid-West and Texas in the late 80’s early 90’s doing my small part to pave the way for the multitude of college organizations that are on most campuses today. Between my partner and me we have lost more people to AIDS then we can possibly count. We didn’t want to loose another of our brothers if we could help it.
Towards the end of this disease some who suffer are financially tapped. All resources are eaten up due to medical bills, the inability to continue working and the need for expensive daily medication. George basically had nothing left to his name just some old clothes and a suit. I guess when you see a friend and a one time lover down and out like that you cannot help but reach out your hand and offer your help and support. This is what my partner decided to do and I went along with the effort.
George turned out to be charming, intelligent, reserved and gracious person. In almost every way he was very sincere and a joy to spend time around. Slowly he became a part of our lives every day getting stronger, putting back on the lost weight, fighting instead of surrendering to his illness. Six weeks ago he was the picture of perfect health having gained all his lost weight and then some due to my cooking and women cooking healthy meals at the home where he was living. He had an undetectable viral load, his hepatitis was in remission and he had regained much of his physical strength.
The last six weeks I have seen him go from that picture to that of a junkie. He became well enough to care for himself again and live on his own. He lost the structure that was provided during his care and the restrictions placed on his life. The first check he earned went right up his nose ending with his new boy friend waking me up 7:00 am on a Sunday trying to find George thinking he was dead. I suppose one could assume that considering that the use of cocaine, crystal meth, and in his case alcohol, tends to kill people.
The last two times George visited my home he has looked horrible. Swollen ankles and torso, greasy hair, pale skin, and glazed eyes. Part of me is angry and horrified that a person can go from one physical extreme to another so fast. A side of me wants to grab him and shake the shit out of him telling him to pull it together and a side wants to voice my concern and sit back and watch. Was all that time and effort and struggle he went through and to a small part we went through just so he could get healthy enough to repeat the same actions that got him in the hospice house in the first place or even dead? Some define insanity as repeating the same action over and over again expecting different results.
I suppose the good thing to come out of this short friendship is a reminder of the value of life. Sixteen years ago I kicked a nasty habit with drugs that developed in my teen years. With help from people I was taught how to be soberly responsible for my actions. My partner has commented on how similar George and my personalities are and I would have to agree with him. I could have continued down the path of destruction that is affecting not only our gay brothers and sisters but it would seem every group of people in the United States. But for the grace of God go I. I will still be George’s friend and be here for him but I will draw the line really close on offering help. I will not allow anyone to bring hard core drugs around me or in my home. Ultimately in the fight of addiction one must become selfish about doing what’s right and healthy for one’s self first.
I think Neil Young knew what he was talking about when he sang “Every junkie’s like a setting sun”
Here are some links if you have a friend or a loved one that needs assistance.
Update: My friend went to join our Father on May 2nd, 2007 due to complications from liver damage. Rest in peace and God's speed...
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