It is more difficult for me to talk directly about things in my life; I do much better hiding behind off-hand comments or short, dialogue-driven sketches. Talking around myself has become a habit for survival and sanity. It's served me well.

Which is why I have been having such a difficult time responding to some of the kind comment and notes from my last journal. It is not easy to explain a situation without, well--explaining the situation. So here goes:

No two cases of HIV are the same and, while those with the virus do share some similar symptoms and such, the disease is as individual as the person.

Since 1999, I have battled diabetes brought on by some of the medications I was taking way-back. The diabetes, exacerbated by the HIV, contributed to an additional diagnosis of peripheral neuropathy (which, it's said, the medicines also may have had a hand in causing). This is a rather painful condition. I can't really describe how painful or what kind of pain other than to say: imagine that feeling you get when your foot falls asleep. Now, multiply that by, perhaps, a hundred or so and walk around like that all day long (instead of for the few mintues it takes your foot to wake back up). Add to that the fact that your foot is numb--completely numb. If you stub your toe, you can't tell; if you cut yourself, you don't know. Walking is an adventure, to say the least--provided I can even stand up.

Back before I had cancer, the PN was not difficult to control. I would have a few flare-ups here and there, and some bad days, but it was seen more as an inconvenience than a real problem. I exercised often, using routines my doctors suggested, and also worked very closely with a nutritionist to keep everything running smoothly.

Then I got sick. Chemotherapy and radiation made it difficult to continue my exercise routines, complications with the HIV made it difficult to keep up with the proper nutrition, and, to be frank, I had more important things to worry about at the time than whether or not my PN was under control.

Fast foward two years or so. The PN, for the last year, has been debilitating. I have not been able to walk, drive, run, work-out, or participate in any of the physical activities I used to. There are some nights when I cannot sleep with a sheet over my body because the pain is that bad; other nights I've had to turn off the fan or close the window because something as small as the breeze can be excruciating. It is not every day, though there is some degree of it every day, but it has been more days in the past two years than it was in the previous ten combined. Add to that the fact that what began in the tips of my toes has now progressed to pain above my ankles, and you can see how leaving the house might be difficult.

I am also, it should be said, incredibly self-conscious of the fact that I walk like an 80 year old and, even on good days, my pride has kept me indoors. I've also had to re-learn how to walk because, well--when your feet are numb it's a much different feeling than when they're not. It's been a slow process for me, especially having spent much of my life as an athlete, and the experience has been a constant blow to my rather fragile pride.

So that's what I'm dealing with at the moment: learning how to walk, figuring out a way around the pain, and trying to get the hell on with living my life. Add to that the fact that I have been trying to gain weight so that I can at least get up past 120 lbs. again, as well as trying to control my CD4 and viral load counts, and things on the health front are not wonderful--but they're okay. I'm getting there. Getting out and moving on are two important steps towards that, I think.

So thank you to everyone for your kind notes and comments and questions and concern. I really do feel humbled by your 'love'. That'll teach me to off-hand my health in journals again, won't it?