The room I write in is dark tonight.  I can see a slight reflection of my face in the monitor.  As I adjust the screen what stands out is that my right temporal artery is throbbing.  I can feel the blood punish its way through the vessel in my head.  My breathing is becoming a little more difficult than I imagined it should.  I feel remarkably calm and I sit here and take my blood pressure again as see it bound up to 190/130.  I try not to think about it.  But it is all I can think about. 

 

I have made sure my desk drawer with all my important legal papers are in order.  I know I am being over dramatic but it feels like some drama is called for here.

 

My blood pressure has been on a slow assent to cerebral annihilation for several weeks.  The medications are not working.  I don’t have any room for lifestyle changes in my world.  I am a sober jock that works out 5 days a week and eat an excellent diet.  I don’t smoke, drink or drug.  My only downfall is taking HIV medications for nearly 20 years.  I am a long-term AIDS survivor nervously waiting to be fallen by my once athletic heart. 

 

It would only seem right.  After all I certainly know what is like to live with a broken heart.  I have a 9/11 survivor and widower.  My parents all died suddenly and without warning in weeks of each other.  I climbed out of the rabbit hole of addiction hell and surfaced to the top only to have “my best friend” attempt to ram me into that abyss again.

 

SO what I am I?  Nothing.  I am just a man with AIDS, a healthy jock with HIV who is being undone by my heart. 

 

I am trying to survive one of the new moments of being HIV positive in age of miracle and irrational drug cures.  One more expert telling me I have a life long disease that is manageable makes me to take yet another pill or powder.  If this fucking disease so “manageable” how come I feel undone? How do I cope with feeling exhausted all the time?  With the muscles of my body and my mind falling prey to this equal opportunity predator?  I just feel like crap a lot and I don’t know what to do about it anymore.  My usual comforts no longer provide relief.  It feels odd this time.  Like I have turned a corner that I do not want to look around.

 

I guess I am just damn tired of it all.  I want another shot at feeling alive again.  However, I know that is not up to me no matter what I say or do.  So for now I will simply put one foot in front of the other and move on to the next thing.  I suppose the scary thing is I find the journey more exhausting than any journey should be, and it leaves me breathless too many days than not.

 

One last look for now at my reflection and I see my temporal artery continue to throb and I wonder where does all the unwanted pressure go.