GetResponse
The marine at CVS
New in a new town, che orrore!
I went shopping the other day at the local CMV and as I was waiting in line I saw this marine standing in front of me.
He had the most massive back I'd ever seen and his well-shaped glutes were yearning to bust out of his tight fatigues.
All the while he had his arm around this pretty young thing (who seemed content to be with him), and so I feared he might develop honeymooner's palsy/radial neuropathy.
As I walked into the CMV facilities a short while later, to relieve myself, I saw him in a stall, this huge young man with this muscular back, very tall, stripped down to his gray boxer-briefs (as gray as the shaggy gray "membrane" on the back of the throat of diphtheria patients), slouched over the dirty toilet bowl and drinking toilet water.
He suffered from psychogenic polydipsia as well as post-traumatic stress disorder due to the war and all of its consequences.
I went shopping the other day at the local CMV and as I was waiting in line I saw this marine standing in front of me.
He had the most massive back I'd ever seen and his well-shaped glutes were yearning to bust out of his tight fatigues.
All the while he had his arm around this pretty young thing (who seemed content to be with him), and so I feared he might develop honeymooner's palsy/radial neuropathy.
As I walked into the CMV facilities a short while later, to relieve myself, I saw him in a stall, this huge young man with this muscular back, very tall, stripped down to his gray boxer-briefs (as gray as the shaggy gray "membrane" on the back of the throat of diphtheria patients), slouched over the dirty toilet bowl and drinking toilet water.
He suffered from psychogenic polydipsia as well as post-traumatic stress disorder due to the war and all of its consequences.
Intro
But first let me introduce myself - I am a medical student at the Aardvark School for Talented Young Men.
I live in the Strauss dormitory for first-year students, which is named after the first president of Aardvark, Wolfgang Churg-Strauss, who discovered Churg-Strauss autoimmune vasculitis, which affects primarily the lung.
I live there with Handsome.
I live in the Strauss dormitory for first-year students, which is named after the first president of Aardvark, Wolfgang Churg-Strauss, who discovered Churg-Strauss autoimmune vasculitis, which affects primarily the lung.
I live there with Handsome.
How I met Handsome
'From the very first time I rest my eyes on you, boy, My heart said follow through'
-Annie Lennox, 'Waiting In Vain'
I met Handsome at the welcoming reception the School held for its new students at the Dome of Fame, that was inspired by stenotic pulmonary valves, which, as we all know, are dome-shaped.
His baby black eyes became hungrily fixed on me as we started talking and I could sense his interest in me.
We strolled about the reception hall all night and gazed at the portraits of old professors hanging on the wall; Professor Alzheimer, Professor Heimlich, Professor Reed-Sternberg...
I can't remember the small talk we made, but the content is irrelevant - with every syllable we exchanged, we knew we were made for each other.
That night Handsome drove me home. We exchanged telephone numbers as we stood at the back of his car, a sky-blue Pontiac which we called Pontiac fever after the mild from of legionellosis (the severe form is called Legionnaires disease).
In the future, I would sit by my phone many nights hoping he'd call, when I really needed someone to talk to...
-Annie Lennox, 'Waiting In Vain'
I met Handsome at the welcoming reception the School held for its new students at the Dome of Fame, that was inspired by stenotic pulmonary valves, which, as we all know, are dome-shaped.
His baby black eyes became hungrily fixed on me as we started talking and I could sense his interest in me.
We strolled about the reception hall all night and gazed at the portraits of old professors hanging on the wall; Professor Alzheimer, Professor Heimlich, Professor Reed-Sternberg...
I can't remember the small talk we made, but the content is irrelevant - with every syllable we exchanged, we knew we were made for each other.
That night Handsome drove me home. We exchanged telephone numbers as we stood at the back of his car, a sky-blue Pontiac which we called Pontiac fever after the mild from of legionellosis (the severe form is called Legionnaires disease).
In the future, I would sit by my phone many nights hoping he'd call, when I really needed someone to talk to...
The Porcelain Gallbladder
Today during lab practice, Handsome told me about the exquisitely beautiful 'Porcelain Gallbladder' exhibit at the Museum of Medicine (MoM).
It is inspired by the homonymous condition.
It is inspired by the homonymous condition.
Porcelain gallbladder is a calcification of the gallbladder believed to be brought on by excessive gallstones but more studies are necessary to determine the exact cause. It is predominantly found in overweight female patients of middle age. Gallbladder cancer is rare, but is almost always found with porcelain gallbladder.
The Boy In The Purple Jacket
Today, as I was standing outside Borderline cafe' and bookstore, browsing the books on the outdoor shelves, I saw this stunning young man standing a few feet from the revolving entrance of the cafe'.
A young man in his twenties... (suffering from fear of twenty aka vigintiphobia or a neonatal bilirubin of 20 mg/dL).
He was with relatives, perhaps his parents...
He was tall and wearing jeans and a purple athletic jacket.
He had blond, wavy hair. Regarding him was like regarding the arrival of Springtime. It has as if he heralded the arrival of Spring. Such was the transforming power of his beauty, and although I'm straight, I couldn't help but be movedby his beauty.
I remember this classmate I had in my final year of high school, with whom I was infatuated.
He was tall, dark and beautiful.
He had penetrating, hypnotic eyes, a chin dimple, and crew cut, pitch-black hair, reminiscent of the “crew-cut” appearance of a skull X-ray in multiple myeloma.
He looked a little bit like Harrison Ford, but better.
His name was Achilles and he had beautifully shaped calves with long Achilles tendons.
He would have been ideal for displaying the Achilles tendon reflex in relation to thyroid disorders.
I met Sam, who promised that for my graduation he would take me to the Locke-Ober cafe' to celebrate.
The Irish famine memorial outside Borders Cafe reminded me how my heart hungered for love...
A young man in his twenties... (suffering from fear of twenty aka vigintiphobia or a neonatal bilirubin of 20 mg/dL).
He was with relatives, perhaps his parents...
He was tall and wearing jeans and a purple athletic jacket.
He had blond, wavy hair. Regarding him was like regarding the arrival of Springtime. It has as if he heralded the arrival of Spring. Such was the transforming power of his beauty, and although I'm straight, I couldn't help but be movedby his beauty.
I remember this classmate I had in my final year of high school, with whom I was infatuated.
He was tall, dark and beautiful.
He had penetrating, hypnotic eyes, a chin dimple, and crew cut, pitch-black hair, reminiscent of the “crew-cut” appearance of a skull X-ray in multiple myeloma.
He looked a little bit like Harrison Ford, but better.
His name was Achilles and he had beautifully shaped calves with long Achilles tendons.
He would have been ideal for displaying the Achilles tendon reflex in relation to thyroid disorders.
I met Sam, who promised that for my graduation he would take me to the Locke-Ober cafe' to celebrate.
The Irish famine memorial outside Borders Cafe reminded me how my heart hungered for love...
Handsom and I visit Noble bookstore
The other day, Handsome and I decided to check out the new Noble bookstore in Revered Tree Mall.
Once inside, we ordered coffee at its "Starry Sky" cafe, which always brings to my mind the starry sky histologic pattern of Burkitt lymphoma.
We sat at a table near the big glass windows; the sun was bathing us.
I felt such contentment to be near my friend, that I forgot all worries about solar keratosis or squamous cell carcinoma, both caused by prolonged exposure to sunlight.
"I feel like I've known you forever", I told him, and I meant it.
It was an unreal feeling, somewhat resembling Alice in Wonderland syndrome.
We strolled about the bookstore aisles and, ever so often, our paths would meet; we'd exchange awkward smiles and meaningful looks.
Spotted Dick
When we got back to his apartment, Handsome gave me his meat to eat and then he gave me spotted dick pudding - however, he realized he had forgotten an important ingredient - cinnamon - and so we had to go back to the supermarket to get it.
Shopping at Nieman-Pick
Handsome and I went shopping at "Niemann – Pick" (named after the sphingolipidosis) today.
He helped me pick out a gorgeous denim jacket and corduroy shorts.
He helped me pick out a gorgeous denim jacket and corduroy shorts.
Kayaking on a Saturday
Handsom and I went kayaking today on Medicine Lake.
As we were driving over there in his car, I realized that the mere sound of his voice made my erectile tissues swell.
That reminded me of this guy who got called up to the whiteboard the other day to explain something and it turned out he had this huge hard-on!
Apparently he had priapism due to the trazodone he takes for his depression; it was soooo funny, everyone started laughing
So anyway coming back to Handsome, I could sense his growing attachment to me.
He would follow me around wherever I went, like the macrophages follow neutrophils in tissue injury - in this story, it would be my heart that was injured.
When we tired of kayaking, we stretched our naked bodies on the wooden deck, silent, and contemplated our sexless lives.
As we were driving over there in his car, I realized that the mere sound of his voice made my erectile tissues swell.
That reminded me of this guy who got called up to the whiteboard the other day to explain something and it turned out he had this huge hard-on!
Apparently he had priapism due to the trazodone he takes for his depression; it was soooo funny, everyone started laughing
So anyway coming back to Handsome, I could sense his growing attachment to me.
He would follow me around wherever I went, like the macrophages follow neutrophils in tissue injury - in this story, it would be my heart that was injured.
When we tired of kayaking, we stretched our naked bodies on the wooden deck, silent, and contemplated our sexless lives.
Enter Dr. Crazy
The next day, Dr. Crazy stormed into the lab like a modern day Anna Magnani, like a thyroid storm which no beta blocker
could calm, and accused us of not having completed our assignments; 'There, you've done it again!!' she yelled.
I knew I would pay dearly for the few moments of joy I had the day before, the moments of guilty joy, bitter though they were, lying near my friend in erotic bliss.
could calm, and accused us of not having completed our assignments; 'There, you've done it again!!' she yelled.
I knew I would pay dearly for the few moments of joy I had the day before, the moments of guilty joy, bitter though they were, lying near my friend in erotic bliss.
The Green Saintly Gentle Giant
Today a colleague of mine who I call the Green Saintly Gentle Giant (because he wears big green ties and has a huge anaconda) drove me home.
That young man is so handsome, so big and so sexy.
His voice is the most lustful voice I've heard in a long time.
Its mere sound makes my erectile tissues swell.
But I could sense as we were heading home, that I, too, did not leave him indifferent.
My voice and suggestive tone made him lose his words.
When we got home, I asked him to come up and help me clean my carpet.
He followed willingly.
Using his gluteal muscles, he thrust the shaft of that hoover across my carpet like it was nobody's business.
The handle of that shaft was covered with velvety blonde fur that glistened in the sunlight.
He moaned from the effort as sweat droplets streamed down his beautiful manly forehead.
He cleaned my carpet real good.
That young man is so handsome, so big and so sexy.
His voice is the most lustful voice I've heard in a long time.
Its mere sound makes my erectile tissues swell.
But I could sense as we were heading home, that I, too, did not leave him indifferent.
My voice and suggestive tone made him lose his words.
When we got home, I asked him to come up and help me clean my carpet.
He followed willingly.
Using his gluteal muscles, he thrust the shaft of that hoover across my carpet like it was nobody's business.
The handle of that shaft was covered with velvety blonde fur that glistened in the sunlight.
He moaned from the effort as sweat droplets streamed down his beautiful manly forehead.
He cleaned my carpet real good.
Brunch at C'est Ci Bon
I needed to get some cafe' au lait (coffee with milk) because I wanted to brush up on the signs of neurofibromatosis (AND McCune Albright syndrome), which include cafe' au lait spots of the skin.
So Handsome and I decided to have brunch at the 'C'est Ci Bon' cafe at
And there we were, sitting in the atrium of the cafe in the middle of the square, which, unlike the atrium of the heart (which is basically cuboidal except for the auricle), was hexahedral.
It was raining lightly, the autumn air was cool and the sunlight was bathing us, everything was light.
The next day we had milk (which reminded me of the color of normal vaginal discharge) at the "C'est Ci Bon" which is at the corner of the hospital where Handsome would be doing his rotation.
The love between us was more palpable than the purpura of Henoch-Schonlein.
Again, everything was light.
The memory of that light surfaced a few days later (as I was walking down a hospital corridor), like Hepatitis B surface antigen (HBsAg),
the earliest indicator of acute hepatitis B which frequently identifies infected people before symptoms appear.
I kept thinking ‘that light…that light’.
At night, when I got home from school, I would sit on my bed, close my eyes, and again, that light would appear, and it was so beautiful, it made me cry for hours, shedding thick tears that resembled the teardrop cells (dacryocytes) seen in idiopathic myelofibrosis, thalessemia, or myelophthisis.
An Invisible Choir of Angels
In the afternoon, Handsome and I headed downtown; as we walked up the stairs to the street level, a choir of angels greeted us with psalms and hymns, in approval of our affection for each other.
They brought to my mind Angelman syndrome, that pediatric disorder characterized by hand-flapping, frequent laughter or smiling, and a happy demeanor.
They brought to my mind Angelman syndrome, that pediatric disorder characterized by hand-flapping, frequent laughter or smiling, and a happy demeanor.
Sunday
We went to the "J.P. Lickme" ice cream parlor on Massive Ave with Taylor and some other friends to cheer Taylor up because he was in a bad mood.
He is often like that and when I first met him, I wondered why... I said to myself 'is he hypothyroidic, is he depressed?'.
I worry about him. You see, Taylor is part native American and it is well known that the suicide rate is high in native American adolescents.
Taylor's sister is a baroness living in England, her name is Katherine Oxenberg.
She is a natural blond (which of course increases her propensity for developing skin cancer).
He is often like that and when I first met him, I wondered why... I said to myself 'is he hypothyroidic, is he depressed?'.
I worry about him. You see, Taylor is part native American and it is well known that the suicide rate is high in native American adolescents.
Taylor's sister is a baroness living in England, her name is Katherine Oxenberg.
She is a natural blond (which of course increases her propensity for developing skin cancer).
My hot downstairs neighbor
As I was leaving for work today, I whisked by my downstairs neighbor's door and noticed that he was standing there naked!
I couldn't help but notice his massive pecs, his hard abs and his huge burrito. These, in conjunction with his manly voice and his studly demeanor make him HOT.
In fact, I heard that just the other day he got a penis fracture
from having too much rough sex, and was subsequently rushed to the emergency room, where he was subjected to a
retrograde urethrogram, followed by surgical repair of his tube steak.
I couldn't help but notice his massive pecs, his hard abs and his huge burrito. These, in conjunction with his manly voice and his studly demeanor make him HOT.
In fact, I heard that just the other day he got a penis fracture
from having too much rough sex, and was subsequently rushed to the emergency room, where he was subjected to a
retrograde urethrogram, followed by surgical repair of his tube steak.
At The Cafeteria
Taylor and I hung out at the cafeteria.
Taylor was smiling and chewing Juicy Fruit gum, and so his breath smelled like that of a diabetic ketoacidosis patient.
Taylor was smiling and chewing Juicy Fruit gum, and so his breath smelled like that of a diabetic ketoacidosis patient.
Oysters in bed on Sunday
Handsome and I had oysters in bed today.
Then we went downtown. The sun had just come out from behind the clouds. The weather was warm, a warm, autumn afternoon. We took off our shirts and stretched out on the green grass at the Loston Common and gazed at the bright blue sky. The rays of the sun caressed our bodies. The warmth of the sun bathed our naked torsos. The cool breeze kissed our erect nipples.
We sat there silently and savored the moments.
Then we went downtown. The sun had just come out from behind the clouds. The weather was warm, a warm, autumn afternoon. We took off our shirts and stretched out on the green grass at the Loston Common and gazed at the bright blue sky. The rays of the sun caressed our bodies. The warmth of the sun bathed our naked torsos. The cool breeze kissed our erect nipples.
We sat there silently and savored the moments.
My Summer with Channing
The other day I went for a swim at the Aardvark swimming pool.
The sensation of the lukewarm water against my bare skin and then the exhilaration of showering in the male locker room made me feel delicious.
At the showers, I stood next to a schoolmate of ours, Marcus Gunn, who is actually an exchange student from Sweden.
Marcus is a male model and he is wonderfully built, although his love of swimming caused him to get an Pseudomonas aeruginosa otitis externa infection; and yet he loved it so.
His only problem is that he is obsessive compulsive - one of his compulsions is incessantly rubbing his head in the male showers at Aardvark stadium, until he deems it clean enough.
He proceeded to do so on that day as well, and then looked up at me watching him and grunted "Do you like to watch, man, do you like to watch?"
Thinking back on his P. aeruginosa infection and the blue-green pigment this bacterium secretes, pyocyanin, I suggested to Marcus that we go stretch out on the green grass in Aardvark Yard.
So we walked over there, took our shirts off and lay down on the green grass at Aardvark Yard, enjoying the summer afternoon and the cool breeze against or sweaty skin.
We spoke of many things, of fools and kings and about the Marcus Gunn pupil, a physical finding in optic neuritis, where the pupil reacts less to light.
And then the conversation turned to Argyll Robertson pupils, which "accomodate but do not react" to light and are highly specific to neurosyphilis.
"You know", Marcus explained "this sign was known as 'Prostitute's Pupils' because of their association with tertiary syphilis and because of the convenient mnemonic that, like a prostitute, they “accommodate but do not react."
As we were talking, our young, sweaty bodies outstretched on the Aardvark Yard lawn, from the corner of my eye I saw my brother, Channing, coming up the hill.
Channing is my favorite brother.
He is a male underwear model living in Paris, France.
I ran towards him and hugged him hard.
I felt his hard body against mine.
It made me feel so safe and secure again, like when we were kids.
That night, we slept together in my dorm room.
He wrapped his body around mine from behind, just like he did when we were children.
I felt safe and secure.
For the first time in many years I didn't need to sleep with the lights and TV on.
When I woke up the next morning, he'd left for Paris, France.
It was unbearable.
I couldn't stand losing him so soon.
I jumped on the next flight to Paris, France and surprised him by hopping in his bed as he was sleeping.
It was early morning.
The morning light was bathing us from the large vertical window next to his bed in his Parisian apartment.
He wrapped his legs around me from behind, just like when we were kids.
It felt so good.
His legs encroached me just like adjacent podocytes interdigitate to cover the basal lamina which is intimately associated with the glomerular capillaries.
I said goodbye and left.
He promised to log on every night so we could have long, hard discussions via internet.
I left.
But all of a sudden I changed my mind - I couldn't bear to be away from my brother again.
Now that I'd found him, I needed to be with him all of the time.
We got on his private jet and roamed the world.
It was just me and him in midair, away from all the toils and trials and tribulations of the world.
We talked about everything under the sun, we talked about the dangers of the extremes of height and depth; for example the danger of having a pulmonary embolism on plane flights, or Caisson's disease in scuba diving.
We talked about the so-called "frequent flyers", marijuana users who appear at emergency departments ever so often.
I wanted to stay up there with my brother forever.
I did not want to come down.
I felt safe and secure.
My brother then told me a wonderful secret.
He told me of a place where there is eternal sunshine, where I didn't have to leave the light on at night when I went to sleep, where I did not have to feel afraid or scared, where the climate was always temperate, a friendly place.
The catch was, it was not within my power to go there, I had to be invited there, I had to be transported there, I had to be sucked in there and that was beyond my control.
The catch was, once I'd been there once, I would always crave to go back there, but that would be beyond my control.
The catch was, many people had reached the cusp of getting there and some had stopped at the last moment out of fear of the unknown.
The catch was, this place was entirely unknown, entirely pristine, entirely new, entirely uncreated.
I asked my brother how he knew all these things.
He told me that he was always there and always here and always everywhere and always that place.
During that plane ride, I felt my self being transformed into something new, like Kal-El being transformed into Superman during his travel from Krypton to Earth, I felt myself changing into everything I had always wanted to be, a wholesome, young man in control of his destiny, in control of his life, in control of himself, of his surroundings, of his environment, of his sexuality, of his eyes, of his gaze, of everything, always in control, in touch, in knowledge, in wisdom.
My brother kept talking to me about that place, he told me that that was the place the souls went after death.
I decided to momentarily come down to earth to see if it was safe enough for me to inhabit it again.
It was ok, it felt relatively safe again; but Channing indicated a gateway that led to the in-between, a secret garden where he and I could meet in times of trouble, where I could find solace from the outside world, where I could be safe.
He got in his private jet, hovered a few feet above my head and sped off to Paris - and here I was, back again in Loston, the city of redemption, the city of comfort, the city near the town that broke my heart...
Everything felt ok again back in Loston, except for the fact that there a was a particular building in the city that would, on occasion, be covered with thick black fog, that made working in it uncomfortable.
When that happened, I simply asked my brother Channing to blow away the smoke and make the air clear again.
It was a peculiar phenomenon, though; that fog resembled the "puff of smoke" sign of moyamoya disease, as seen on a cerebral angiogram.
What could be causing it?
I decided not to pursue this further, though; I felt there was something untoward about the whole situation, so I left it alone.
I called on my brother one more time - I needed him, I needed his advice, I needed, desperately, career advice. We arranged for him and myself and my buddy Handsom to have a three-way teleconference that night. "After all". my brother said, "for souls that love each other, there is no distance".
At 10:00 pm, all three of us dimmed the lights and logged on and watched, on our video wall, this same image of a drowning young man in the water, clasping the hand of a young lady sitting on a rock ashore, the waves crashing around him. The aria "J'ai perdue mon Eurydice" from Gluck's "Orfeo and Eurydice", was playing in the background. I was crushed by the agony and pain of this young man who was trying to stay afloat.
Then, as in a vision, I saw myself as a successful young man, dressed in a velvet brown suit and a bow-tie - I knew I would be OK.
Octoberfest?
Handsom and I strolled onto Aardvark square mid-afternoon today, where we came across this huge festival, with rock groups, performers, jugglers and lots, lots of food.
I held on to Handsom's hand. I am so lucky to have him in my life. Before I met him, my life was so monotonous. When I met him, I felt like something that had been hidden for years in the shadows, was suddenly illuminated with the simple grandeur and brilliance of a million suns.
I held on to Handsom's hand. I am so lucky to have him in my life. Before I met him, my life was so monotonous. When I met him, I felt like something that had been hidden for years in the shadows, was suddenly illuminated with the simple grandeur and brilliance of a million suns.
the boy with the short black hair
The boy with the short black hair who suffers from somnambulism, was seen again last night sleepwalking half- naked in the dorm room halls; naturally all the girls were scandalized by his massive, thick manhood.
Father Eugene
Let me tell you something about my spiritual guide, Father Eugene. He was not always celibate, at least not at heart. I don't know and can't know and wouldn't want to know if the lack of celibacy went past the heart - and what does it matter, anyway? There are examples of figures in the Church who were immersed in works of the flesh and in later life became Saints. I guess there is nothing the Grace of God cannot overcome.
So anyway, about my confessor, Father Eugene: as a young man, he had homosexual tendencies. As far as I know, he never acted on them. He was tormented by his attraction to the same sex, on one hand, and by his desire to serve God, on the other hand.
He went through years and decades of doubt and anguish and disappointments. He finally realized he could not serve both Him and the flesh. He realized he could not dispense his love in two receptacles.
And so he chose a life of celibacy, he chose to die for the world. Initially he continued to desire cock. In any case, he doesn't expect the desires of the flesh to ever go away completely. They are so deeply ingrained in our nature, after all.
But there came a point in his life, a point after a great disappointment, when he was ready to leave God and immerse himself in the sea of lust. At the cusp of that final decision, the Grace of God supernaturally saved him.
And yet, he was forced to continue living in the world, although he felt he had died for the world. That posed some problems for him, because the world is not ready for such kind, gentle souls. It has little tolerance for these souls. He could not look at other people and he did not like to be looked at. That created special problems for him, because everyone thought he was ignoring them, that he was a snob and Father Eugene was anything but that.
He wanted to know if this problem he had with looking at other people, with making eye contact was from Him or if it was something he would have to overcome.
He once read about this priest who was suffering from chronic headaches and we would pray and pray that they would go away. One day, they indeed, did. When he mentioned this to his confessor, a saintly man, actually considered a spiritual giant of our times, the Father said 'Why would you pray to have this taken away from you? This was your reward in Heaven'
'So maybe', Father Eugene thought 'this is the cross I have to bear'.
There were instances in his life when that problem had miraculously gone away, but these instances were too few to mention. What had happened in those instances, that made it go away? What it the Grace of Him?
However, Father Eugene finally realized that since he was in the world and relied on the world for his professional success, he would have to dissipate this fear of looking at people and being looked at, in order to get ahead with his professional life.
You want to know about Father Eugene? He had his first major breakdown when he was eighteen years old. He realized he was growing up and could not afford to stay still, that he had to decide what to do with his life. He thought about Him day and night, he was obsessed with the thought of Him. He felt compelled to serve Him, to follow Him. He felt a pressing need to decide what to do with his life, what road to follow, where to devote his existence. He went through a bout of depression. Nothing could take his mind off his spiritual concerns.
Right around that time he came across a religious book which describes the ascetic life. Reading it changed his life forever. He became convinced that there was more to life than what was apparent, that there were spiritual truths waiting to be revealed, truths deeper than everyday phenomena.
Reading that book changed him forever. He pondered a life of celibate spirituality night and day. He wanted to rid himself of all his belongings and join a monastery.
So anyway, about my confessor, Father Eugene: as a young man, he had homosexual tendencies. As far as I know, he never acted on them. He was tormented by his attraction to the same sex, on one hand, and by his desire to serve God, on the other hand.
He went through years and decades of doubt and anguish and disappointments. He finally realized he could not serve both Him and the flesh. He realized he could not dispense his love in two receptacles.
And so he chose a life of celibacy, he chose to die for the world. Initially he continued to desire cock. In any case, he doesn't expect the desires of the flesh to ever go away completely. They are so deeply ingrained in our nature, after all.
But there came a point in his life, a point after a great disappointment, when he was ready to leave God and immerse himself in the sea of lust. At the cusp of that final decision, the Grace of God supernaturally saved him.
And yet, he was forced to continue living in the world, although he felt he had died for the world. That posed some problems for him, because the world is not ready for such kind, gentle souls. It has little tolerance for these souls. He could not look at other people and he did not like to be looked at. That created special problems for him, because everyone thought he was ignoring them, that he was a snob and Father Eugene was anything but that.
He wanted to know if this problem he had with looking at other people, with making eye contact was from Him or if it was something he would have to overcome.
He once read about this priest who was suffering from chronic headaches and we would pray and pray that they would go away. One day, they indeed, did. When he mentioned this to his confessor, a saintly man, actually considered a spiritual giant of our times, the Father said 'Why would you pray to have this taken away from you? This was your reward in Heaven'
'So maybe', Father Eugene thought 'this is the cross I have to bear'.
There were instances in his life when that problem had miraculously gone away, but these instances were too few to mention. What had happened in those instances, that made it go away? What it the Grace of Him?
However, Father Eugene finally realized that since he was in the world and relied on the world for his professional success, he would have to dissipate this fear of looking at people and being looked at, in order to get ahead with his professional life.
You want to know about Father Eugene? He had his first major breakdown when he was eighteen years old. He realized he was growing up and could not afford to stay still, that he had to decide what to do with his life. He thought about Him day and night, he was obsessed with the thought of Him. He felt compelled to serve Him, to follow Him. He felt a pressing need to decide what to do with his life, what road to follow, where to devote his existence. He went through a bout of depression. Nothing could take his mind off his spiritual concerns.
Right around that time he came across a religious book which describes the ascetic life. Reading it changed his life forever. He became convinced that there was more to life than what was apparent, that there were spiritual truths waiting to be revealed, truths deeper than everyday phenomena.
Reading that book changed him forever. He pondered a life of celibate spirituality night and day. He wanted to rid himself of all his belongings and join a monastery.
At John Aardvark's
Handsome and I went out to John Aardvark's brew house last night.
It was OK. The music was loud, I couldn't hear him well.
We had a glass of wine and I was afraid Handsome might have a tyramine crisis because he takes MAOI's for depression.
He is depressed because he's a virgin, he doesn't fuck.
It was OK. The music was loud, I couldn't hear him well.
We had a glass of wine and I was afraid Handsome might have a tyramine crisis because he takes MAOI's for depression.
He is depressed because he's a virgin, he doesn't fuck.
THE GAY TOUR OF BOSTON
.
On The Red Line Heading Downtown
In the afternoon, Handsome and I decided to go downtown
We took the Red line train from Harvard Station
The train stormed through the underground tunnels like a cock being thrust into an ass canal
Inside the train, Handsome and I were holding hands
We were happy we'd found each other, happy we'd found love
We'd almost given up, thought we were incapable of loving and being loved, thought we were emotionless
But Love found us
As we were heading toward the Park Street station, a group of Buddhist monks danced past our seats chanting 'Jai Guru Deva Om'
At that moment we looked out the window at the opposite train speeding past ours and saw the reflection of our souls sitting in its seats, looking back at us
An Invisible Choir Of Angels
We got off at Downtown Crossing Station
As we were ascending to street level on the escalator, we could hear a choir of angels greeting us with hymns and psalms in approval of our affection for each other
On The Common
We walked past the crowd, up Summer street and Winter street towards Boston Common, where the lustful bodies of young men of militias once trained
Bathed by the hard Springtime sun-rays, we bought little gifts for each other from the street vendors; a hard-cover book about Coco Chanel, small fold-out maps of Boston...
Here, the tunes of street organs filled the street
There, the voice of Maria Callas emanated from a nearby FYE CD store and spread throughout
All was illuminated
We breakfasted at the 'Aujour d'hui' on 200 Boylston, on the second floor of the 'Four Seasons' hotel, overlooking the park
We headed to the Common
The sun had just come out from behind the clouds
The weather was warm, a warm autumn afternoon
Shirtless young men were stretching or playing on the grass
Some were blond like cherub angels
Their bodies were hard and firm like flowers
We also took off our shirts and stretched out on the green grass and gazed at the bright blue sky
The rays of the sun caressed our bodies
The warmth of the sun bathed our naked torsos
The cool breeze kissed our erect nipples
We sat there silently and savored the moments
Parkman Bandstand
We got up and headed toward the Parkman Bandstand, inside which I danced pirouettes for my lover, balancing on the fin of a mechanical shark
Soldiers and Sailors
We visited the 'Soldiers and Sailors' monument on Flagstaff Hill, overlooking the skaters on the Frog Pond
I told Handsome that the exquisitely phallic monument is dedicated to all the gay soldiers and sailors who found love among each other and against the odds
I was lying, of course...
We crossed Charles street to the Public Garden
The Lagoon Bridge
We crossed the Lagoon Bridge
We went on a Swan Boat ride
As our thighs rubbed against each other, they caused my cock to grow
"The Angel of the Waters"
We bowed to "The Angel of the Waters" statue
Commonwealth Ave
We strolled down Commonwealth Avenue hand-in-hand, admiring the Victorian mansions and townhouses, gardens and statues
He stole a kiss from me as we passed under a blooming steel magnolia tree and my cock became hard like steel
The mere sound of his voice, his wanton voice made me hard
We prayed at the First Boston Unitarian Universalist Church, where the Bishop sanctified our love by placing his palms on both our heads as we knelt before him
We turned left on Dartmouth and again left on Huntington
Up Mass. Ave
We walked up Mass. Ave
The afternoon sun made the pavement and the bus stops and the people otherworldly
We reached the Mass. Ave bridge and went down to the Esplanade
Christian Science Center
.
Skywalk Observatory
We viewed Boston from the Skywalk Observatory
We walked all the way around, his hand in my backpocket
As we were bathed by the afternoon sun, overlooking the Charles , the Esplanade and MIT, we locked our lips, there , in front of everyone to see
Berklee School of Music
.
Mass Ave Bridge
The rays of the afternoon sun were glistening on the surface of the Charles
The cruel summer sun bathes our bodies
The dinghies were gliding on the water
We headed down to the Esplanade
A shirtless young men with an exquisitely shaped triangular back passed us by, jogging
The Esplanade
We walked the expanse of the Esplanade, the warm sun hovering above us
We passed the Hatch Shell
Saint Anthony's Fire
Went to north end today to find paul revere house - stumbled upon st Anthony festival, were a statue of St. Anthony was covered with dollar bills, paraded and placed in a makeshift shrine for people to worship - many italians.
Cafe Graffiti
We took our coffee at the Cafe Graffiti in the North End
We slipped, I and then he, into the bathroom, where Handsome 'took' me from the 'south end'
When we sat down in our wooden chairs, Handsome whispered in my ear so that it was slightly audible to the nearby customers 'Did I just FUCK you in the bathroom?'
When we where finished we wrote on the brick wall 'H + X = L.F.E.'
Boston Architectiral College
Next we strolled down Newbury Street to the Boston Architectiral College, which was designed in a quiet "Brutalist" (my baby took me aside to a cool, shadowy corner and fucked me brutally, it hurt, I ached and I ached for him, his cock filled my asshole real good, it felt so good against my pulsating prostate) manner - exposed concrete in and out (our souls were exposed to each other, like our bodies, too, he fucked my brains out), light-filled studios (all was light, all was serene, all was pure, time stopped, it stopped for us, for our love, our immaculate love) and a nicely sculpted stairway (like our sculpted, hard bodies)
The Proctor Building
He walked down to the Proctor Building, which enthralled us with its elegance and charm
So enchanted was I, that my right nipple stood erect and Handsome had to lick it to give me some temporary relief from the aching beauty I was feeling inside
So enchanted was I, that my right nipple stood erect and Handsome had to lick it to give me some temporary relief from the aching beauty I was feeling inside
Beacon Hill
...and there we were on Beacon Hill, our hearts: breaking; forced to glitter, forced...TO BE GAY
Then, we strolled around Beacon Hill, and walked across Acorn street, the most photographed street in Boston
This is actually a private way and considered dangerous to cross, but we CROSSED it anyway, hand in hand, heart to heart
House Of Odd Windows
Handsome and I visited the House of Odd Windows on 24 Pinckney Street
We pondered on the oddity of our love flourishing in a time of adversity and anguish
But then again, as they say, pain binds you closer to people than pleasure
Cambridge and Grove
We walked down Cambridge street and sat at the Au Bon Pain on the corner of Cambridge and Grove for some coffee and milk
We had some milk and then I sucked my baby's milk out of his cock under the table, while the sunshine bathed us from outside the window
North End
Handsome and I visited the North End today; we had pastries at Dr. Pasquale's pastry shoppe.
As we were in the middle of our pastry, Dr. Pasquale hurried out of the kitchen and with a worried face told us 'You're in danger, children, your love is in danger'
We strolled down makeover street, stopped at Mama Maria's for lunch.
The angelic, fat Mama Maria came over to our table and warned us 'You're in danger, m children, your pure love is in danger - the hideous Dr. Harrison is plotting against you'
We stopped at St. Leonards Church, the first Catholic Church in Botolph, and prayed outside in the Peace Garden, overlooked by the statues of the Saints.
As we were in the middle of our pastry, Dr. Pasquale hurried out of the kitchen and with a worried face told us 'You're in danger, children, your love is in danger'
We strolled down makeover street, stopped at Mama Maria's for lunch.
The angelic, fat Mama Maria came over to our table and warned us 'You're in danger, m children, your pure love is in danger - the hideous Dr. Harrison is plotting against you'
We stopped at St. Leonards Church, the first Catholic Church in Botolph, and prayed outside in the Peace Garden, overlooked by the statues of the Saints.
All Saints Way
My baby and I passed by All Saints Way in the North End
We knelt down to pray for our love, pray that it would last
The cool breeze from the alley of the saints sanctified our love for Eternity
On The Waterfront - Long Wharf
He offered me a long-stemmed rosa rugosa rose from the bed near the Waterfront
I kissed his hand as I took it and then he shoved it up my ass with the thorns and made me bleed profusely and made my heart bleed as well - bleed with love
Then he fucked me, fucked me hard up my bleeding ass until he eviscerated me completely and as the intestines hung out my bloody ass, I thanked him - for loving me so hard
Custom House Block
There, at the edge of the Custom House Block, looking to the open sea, the cool sea breeze blowing through our youthful soft hair, we blew each other - we blew each other hard, baby, in celebration of our youth and vitality
New England Aquarium
We visited the New England Aquarium, where we kissed deep -with tongue- in front of an exhibit of sharks and piranha fish, as a studly, shirtless seal trainer was doing his thing one level below
Rowe's Wharf
Beautiful
Ames Building
As we were strolling by the Ames building in downtown Botolph, Handsome and I, we noticed a handsome young man standing under the Romanesque arch at the entrance of the building, a tall, built, young man, with a yummy orange sweater, black tie, white shirt, and black pants and shoes.
Handsome f*cked him right then and there in front of the building as the passerby s looked on unaffected. The young man then whipped out his cock and stuck it in Handsomes ass. That's how Handsome lost his virginity.
Handsome f*cked him right then and there in front of the building as the passerby s looked on unaffected. The young man then whipped out his cock and stuck it in Handsomes ass. That's how Handsome lost his virginity.
State Street Block
Handsome and I visited the State Street Block building, one of the most beautiful buildings in Botolph.
Its impressive Italianate detailing and vigor reminded us both of the detailed vigor of our young bodies.
We stripped right there and then, in front of the admiring public and stood naked in front of the Block.
Both our erectile tissues were engorged with hot blood.
Handsome's immaculately white manhood, which measures at nine inches, was upward curving and traversed by thin blue veins resembling the blue waves in white marble.
We just stood there, immotile, like the cilia in Kartagener's syndrome, like two perfect neoclassic statues, out immaculate youth frozen in time.
Its impressive Italianate detailing and vigor reminded us both of the detailed vigor of our young bodies.
We stripped right there and then, in front of the admiring public and stood naked in front of the Block.
Both our erectile tissues were engorged with hot blood.
Handsome's immaculately white manhood, which measures at nine inches, was upward curving and traversed by thin blue veins resembling the blue waves in white marble.
We just stood there, immotile, like the cilia in Kartagener's syndrome, like two perfect neoclassic statues, out immaculate youth frozen in time.
At The Old State House
Today, Handsome and I headed downtown to visit the Old State House, where the Revolution began.
We kissed lightly as we stood outside on the 'Freedom Trail' plaque
We strolled inside the museum hand-in-hand, we marveled at the cocked hats and the phallic bayonets.
He bought me a collection of commemorative revolutionary farthings and schillings, as a memento of our visit and our love
We kissed lightly as we stood outside on the 'Freedom Trail' plaque
We strolled inside the museum hand-in-hand, we marveled at the cocked hats and the phallic bayonets.
He bought me a collection of commemorative revolutionary farthings and schillings, as a memento of our visit and our love
Government Center Plaza
Handsome fucked me so hard, brutally, outside the New Brutalist City Hall building, relentlessly, I yelled, I screamed, I gasped, he fucked the air out of my lungs, I bled out of my lungs, he was relentless
We visited the concrete-lined plaza of Government Center, where the Howard Athenaeum once stood
This theater featured the first Italian opera ever performed in Boston
By the 1900's, the 'Old Howard', as it came to be known, featured vaudeville, burlesque and eventually, striptease
'That's how buildings decay', Handsome told me '...before they die...'
'It's the same with people', he continued, '...with men - their bodies whither and die ad sometimes they haven't had the chance to use them for pleasure'
He pondered for a few seconds, before adding 'Isn't it wonderful we found each other to fuck, before that happened to us?'
I nodded
I thought of the old closeted gay man I'd met at Aardvark, who spent his whole life poring over specimens
What did he achieve?
He lost his vigor, his youth, his vitality...his chance; to find happiness in the arms of another man
And now he sits there alone in his office cubicle, still poring over specimens and drooling over any young man that happens to come into his office
Or I remember that other established scientist, Head of the Department, Head of this, head of that - and all he really wanted (it was so easy to tell), was to give some head
I remember him bending over and directing his asshole towards me when I was in his office, unconsciously (or consciously ?), hoping to get fucked
How sad, how pitiful...as if a strange young man he'd just met, wold suddenly, out of the blue, strip off his pant and sodomize him
He married, fathered a son, done everything 'right', everything his circle expected him to do... and he was unhappy
Because all he really wanted was to break loose of that circle and join a jerk-off circle with other men
But he didn't, he lost his chance, his time, his allotted sex-slot
Anyway, in that hollow plaza with the perfect acoustic, which reminded me of Handsome's hollow asshole, in front of the courthouse, I sang to him, I sang 'O mio babbino caro' from Puccini's Gianni Schicchi, wrapped in a white linen tablecloth
Yes, white, because although we'd fucked so many times, we still remained pure, our hearts remained pure, even though our asses may have been violated and our cocks drained again and again
The cool Springtime breeze circulated in the hollow plaza and erected our already stimulated nipples, as the indirect sunlight bathed our naked flesh
Faneuil Hall
At Faneuil Hall we met up with this strapping young man, a native Bostonian (and you know how manly they make men in Boston), hard as a rock, abs, pecs, cock busting out from every which direction of his gray dress pants and blue cotton shirt, a true angel of a man
He fucked us both
We moaned and groaned and he just kept on ramming us with his meat stick, he was insatiable, just reloading and fucking again and again without even messing up his clean-cut black short parted hair
He worked for the CIA, he was a bad-ass mother fucker, he fucked us up REAL good
King's Chapel
We visited Kings Chapel on the corner of Tremont and School Street
I was taken aback by the beautiful organ in the gallery at the back of the Church
King's Chapel was the first church in America to use an organ
The one in the church today, its sixth, is the first mechanical action organ made in America in the previous century
Omni Parker House
Once outside the holy ground of the church, my mind turned to the erotic
That organ reminded me of Handsomes beautiful upslanting organ that glistens in the sunlight
We went across the street to the Omni Parker House and we fucked
Then we went next door to 'The Last Hurrah', the birthplace of the Boston Cream Pie, were Handsome fed it to me off his finger
The Boy in the Purple Jacket
As we were standing outside Borders bookstore and cafe, browsing the books on the outdoor shelves, I saw this stunning young man standing a few feet from the revolving entrance
A young man in his twenties he was...
He was with relatives, his parents perhaps...
He was tall and wearing jeans and a purple athletic jacket.
He had blond, wavy hair. Regarding him was like regarding the arrival of Springtime. It has as if he heralded the arrival of Spring. Such was the transforming power of his beauty, and although I'm straight, I couldn't help but be moved by his beauty
I remember this classmate I had in my final year of high school, with whom I was infatuated.
He was tall, dark and beautiful
He had penetrating, hypnotic eyes, a chin dimple, and crew cut, pitch-black hair
He looked a little bit like Harrison Ford, but better
His name was Achilles and he had beautiful long legs
The Irish famine memorial outside Borders Cafe reminded me how my heart hungered for love...
Macy's @ Downtown Crossing
We entered the Art Deco Macy's building at Downtown Crossing
We grabbed a bunch of clothes and went into the same dressing room
There, under the hot incandescent spots, perfume and powder suspended and gliding around us, we dressed and undressed each other throwing clothes in the air
The was a rainbow panorama of flying clothes twirling around us
I loved my baby so much, I loved him so much
It was the first time we'd ever touched and that made our cocks harden
Dinner And A Movie
We dined at the Locke-Ober and saw a children's movie at Loews movie theater at Boston Common, holding hands, our feet rested on the front row seats
As we exited the theater, fireworks were heralding the New Year
on the Common
The Berkley
After the pyrotechnic display, we left the Common and walked down Boylston street
We passed the magnificent Berkley building
The Solas Irish Pub
We warmed up sipping on some Irish coffee at the 'Solas' pub
Boston Public Library
Then we headed back to the Public Library, were a laser light was projecting wishes for the New Year on the Library wall
It was after midnight
There, outside the Library, sitting in the lap of the Statue of Art, under the pale white lights, light snow falling on our noses, we held each other and whispered for the first time:
'I love you'
I could feel the bulge of his cock against my asshole
The feeling was stranger than paradise
John Hancock
Then I made a mistake
I whispered something into Handsomes ear
He was shocked
That revelation signed the declaration of the condemnation of our sacred love
'La mia condanna ho scritto'
At that moment, over half of the nearby John Hancock Tower's 10,000 crystal panes detached from the building and
fell crashing to the ground, like tears from the moon
Likewise, our love was shattered forever, never to be again
It was all over
'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa... tutto e finito...'
I ran into the night towards South Station in a flaming long red dress and took the first Peter Pan bus out of Boston
A Town Named St. Elsewhere
I was approached by Von Recklinghausen (named after Neurofibromatosis type I by his neurologist mother) , a retired general, at "Schwannoma (2)" cafe' . We ordered cafe' au lait (3).
2. Acoustic neuromas, also called vestibular schwannomas are a hallmark of neurofibrmatosis type II
3. Cafe' au lait, which means 'coffee with milk', is the color of the spots in neurfibromatosis, McCune-Albright syndrome and other conditions
Grey Turner, a photographer and old acquaintance of mine, came over and sat at our table - he was wearing a blue-black vest.
"Gentlemen", I said "we have to reactivate mission 'caput medusae'".
Willebrands' irritable bowel started acting up and he had to go defecate to relieve his symptoms.
Grey Turner handed me a Charcot-Leyden crystal from an asthmatic patient. I looked deep into the heart of the crystal and saw a solitary pulmonary nodule (SPN). It was less than two centimeters and spiculated and I therefore suspected it to be malignant. I did a PET scan on it - it came back positive..
Depressed, Grey Turner and I met over dinner - we had fava beans and Chianti wine. Grey had G6PD deficiency and the beans precipitated a hemolytic crisis. I was on phenelzine, a monoamine oxidase inhibitor for depression and suffered a hypertensive crisis.
Von Willebrand rejoined us - he entered the restaurant shouting obscenities. He wasn;t mad at us - oh no.. he just suffered from Tourette, for which he took haloperidol.
For this reason he had developed tardive dyskinesia symptoms: his tongue occasionally protruded and his arms moved involuntarily from time to time. That's why some of his acquaintances thought that he was schizophrenic - but he was not.
"Gentlemen", I reiterated "consider 'caput medusae' reactivated" We must retrieve the priceless Porcelain Gallbladder which our archenemy, Lupus Erythematosus, stole from the Museum of Medical Art". I knew I would need help - I contacted my dear friend, Handsome.
We drove to Ohio in my sky-blue Pontiac, which I bought from an ailing Legionnaire and which I lovingly referred to as 'my Pontiac fever'". We had information that Lupus was hiding in a cave there - along with the Porcelain Gallbladder!
Instead of Lupus, in that cave we found a princess who had been driven out of her country and was in exile. She wore her royal headband, which had three feathers protruding from it. She told us her name was Turcot. She appeared dirty and disheveled, her royal gown torn. She was demented because of central nervous system tumors. Not only did we not find Lupus, we contracted Histoplasma capsulatum pneumonia.
Handsome suffered acute hysterical blindness. He started saying "I can't see, I can't see anything". This inability to retrieve the valuable porcelain gallbladder certainly touched upon a sensitive issue lying dormant in his psyche. Only much later would I discover what that was..
I put my hand on his shoulder. In a reassuring voice, I told him something we use for levothyroxine treatment of hypothyroid patients "Don't worry Handsome - just start low and go slow".
He did not respond to my kindness, he treated me coldly. I told him "Look Handsome, I don't tolerate coldness from you or anyone else, I'm hypothyroid and have cold intolerance". And with that I got in my hot air balloon cell (balloon cell, no doubt the product of early hypoxia..) and flew away.
I landed back in Botolphstown to meet my friend Maria Calla who was there for a recital. While walking across the ivory-white marble floor of the VIP sction of the airport, and trying to avoid photoreporters and paparrazzi, she stumbled on one of the TV crew cables and fell. She was recovering from a callus fracture at the Massive Genital Hospital. I found her in her private room, late at night, the balcony window open, the spring breeze caressing her auburn hair and tan, make-upless face. Upon seeing me, she twirled around in her white satin nightgown and said "Do you like it? It's a Dior original made just for me". I soon realized she did not mind the fracture at all. If anything, her being the uber-histrionic personality she was, it took her mind off her deep, unresolved psychological issues that plagued her since childhood - namely, her cold, unloving, unstable mother. Her mother had been so neglectful when she was little, that for a time, when she was a child, she thought that she didn't exist, that people could not see her.
"Maria", I said "you need to help me. Lupus Erythematosus has stolen the invaluable Porcelain Gallbladder from the Museum of Medical Art and his whereabouts are completely unknown. I know you have the ability to synchronize with any person you think about with the power of your voice and emit a frequence that can drive that person mad. Would you be willing to do that with Lupus for me, just for me, your old friend Brian?"
Maria, without speaking, walked slowly towards the balcony and emited that single silent frequency, then came back in "I couldn't find him", said she "you know all too well that Lupus is the Great Imitator - he has already changed form.."
Right then anurse entered the room with Maria's medicine in hand. What struck me immediately were her big shins and her wide-eyed gaze. "Lady", I said "you have Graves disease, do you know that? You have pretibial myxedema and Graves ophthalmopathy, do you know that?"
She gazed at me stoically "Yes, doctor, I know.." and started crying. The increased pressure caused her right eye to pop out of its socket. "AAaaaa" she cried! I manually put it back inside. "This is what bothers me most, doctor, the ophthalmopathy; I'm taking methimazole, but to no avail"
"Lady" I snapped "haven't your doctors told you that methimazole, or propylthiouracil for that matter, will not help your ophthalmopathy - in fact, thiazolidinediones can even make it worse. In a sever case like yours, orbital decompression surgery is required!". Thrilled, she through her pills in the air and ran out of the hospital room in a zig-zag manner. "Well done Brian" I said to myself.
Desperate because of my inability to get back the Gallbladder, I went out into the raging thyroid storm. I walked in the rain. Myelofibrotic teardrop cells were running down my eyes. I remembered that 80's A-HA song "Crying in the rain". And right there and then, I had an "aha" moment of my own, revelation, an enlightenment.
It was now five in the morning and I was walking through the empty streets of Botolphstown.
Being a rheumatoid arthritis patient, I suffered a drop attack due to spinal cord compression and fell on the cold black pavement. As I looked up, I saw my personal angel from Above, Mr. Somogyi, looking at me lovingly. All the love in the world poured out from his eyes. He looked deeply into my eyes and commanded me in a thunderous voice
"LIVE AGAIN! I WILL WIPE YOUR TEARS AND SUPPORT YOU - SMILE AND HOPE! I AM LOVE. EVERYTHING AROUND YOU SEEMS LIKE BLOOD AND DIRT? I AM DIVINE, I AM FORGETFULNESS. I AM THE GOD WHO SAVES THE WORLD DESCENDING FROM THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE, MAKING EARTH A HEAVEN, AAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaa, I AM LOVE, I AM LOVE, LOVE".
And with those words, he vanished...
I woke up the next morning, exhausted and sick. It was one of those rare mornings, between classes and between photo shoots, which I relished so. I got out of bed, made myself an oatmeal breakfast, did some light exercise naked on the roof of my Madhattan loft and browsed the morning paper. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, I felt good and nothing was going to stop me now - oh no.
"Prion!” came the voice from the balcony. It was the voice of Sam Wilson, a 45-year-old assistant professor of Pathology at my medical school. "Prion!” the voice persisted. The professor had a distinctive, playful way of calling out my name; it started out softly, increased in intensity, reaching a crescendo and ended with a decrescendo, like the echocardiogram of an aortic stenosis patient. I slid open the glass door of my bedroom and stepped out onto the balcony. The spring night was warm. A breeze rattled the leaves of the two elm trees in front of our lofts. The trees were so close to each other that their branches intertwined. I walked barefoot towards the ledge of the balcony, arching the soles of my feet so as not to get too much dust on them, and leaned over to the professor’s side. "Did you hear the news?” the professor asked. “The Porcelain Gallbladder was stolen from the Museum of Medical Art last night!”. The professor knew my fascination with art. I'd been brought up amidst great works of art. My father, a shipping magnate, possessed numerous paintings by famous artists, although I always suspected that they were mere status symbols to him, no to mention fake.
Of course the porcelain gallbladder, although exquisitely beautiful, was of limited monetary value. It had been created by an amazingly talented local sculptor, whose brother was actually a professor of Ophthalmology at my medical school. The sculpture’s theme was a departure from the agony-eyed, landing angels the man usually made. Sadly, he had stopped sculpting for quite some time due to the worsening symptoms of schizophrenia. Art had obviously betrayed him as an outlet for his troubled mind. Madness, in fact, was not uncommon on the Island of Madhattan – centuries of isolation from the rest of the world and the subsequent intermarriages it had brought about, had led to a high incidence of mental disease.
"I know" I replied, "and all the evidence points towards Lupus Erythematosus. If only I could prove that, get close enough to Lupus to find some evidence".
"In that case, you're in luck", Sam said, "Lupus is giving a talk on SLE today at out medical school - you should go".
No sooner had I entered the lecture hall, than Lupus started behaving strangely, as if he was hallucinating. What was the matter? Was this a symptom of his underlying illness (SLE)? Was it a side effect of the steroids he was taking for his illness? Lupus seemed to be fighting off an invisible perpetrator. "Visual and tactile hallucinations", I thought "Probably a symptom of the SLE, otherwise they would have been auditory". I ran towards the stage but right there before ou eyes, Lupus vanishes in thin air, leaving behind a swarm of butterflies! Could I just have missed my last chance to catch Lupus? But wait, what's that sheet of paper on he podium? The last page of his notes. It reads "Cronkite-Canada syndrome" and then a blank. This was irrelevant to the topic of his talk. Could it be a clue? Could he secretly want me to catch him? Was he teasing me? Leading me? "Canada..." I thought... I believe he holds a visiting professorship there. Can it be there that he's heading??
I called handsome. We got on the first tramtrack train to Mons Real. A nun was sitting opposite us in the same cabin. I was suddenly overcome by a strange sense of total illumination. The nun spoke softly to me "Come be my light". The rest of the ride is a blur in my head.
As I was asking around about the whereabouts of Lupus at the University o Mons Real, I was approached by a hunchback with bamboo spine, suffering from ankylosing spondylitis. "Follow me" he said, in a hush-husk tone of voice. "Mum's the word" I replied. He led me down a wooden spiral staircase at the damp cold basement of the school. Was he about to lead me to the Gallbladder?? What excitement, what joy!!!
He led me to a small, dark theater. The heavy red curtain of the stage suddenly parted and then began the most bizzare spectacle I had ever seen, which the guy called "Bloody Show". The stage was lit and at the right corner appeared a man of medium stature, dressed in a tuxedo and high heels, heavily made up with a thick coat of foundation, blush, a thick coat of black mascara and a fake mole above his right lip. Then the whole whole stage lit up, to reveal, in the background and behind a veil-like partition, a high school prom, named Preterm PROM (after the preterm premature rupture of membranes that occurs in some pregnant women before 36-37 weeks). The man was silent and just swayed to the faint background music.
Suddenly the stage went dark - out of the darkness, a small child with a parrot beak nose and low-set ears walked off the stage, came up to me and introduced himself as Potter. He looked deeply into my eyes and with a sad expression said "I have failure to thrive, growth below the 5th percentile for my age, because I've been neglected, forced to live in this humid underworld, forgotten by all", and with that he vanished.
Further away I could see another child with conduct disorder, setting old dilapidated buildings on fire - fire, which he breathed out of his mouth. Then, as in a vision, I saw the same person, as an adult, having developed an antisocial personality and being arrested for murder.
I was hoping to find Lupus in this dark environment, because, naturally, Lupus had photosensitivity and preferred dark places. Out of the blue, the hunchback of Mons Real reappeared. He now revealed to me that his name was Mr. Smith; and of course, Lupus being anti-Smith, the two men were sworn enemies.
He added "I want to talk to you"
"The last time we spoke, Mr. Smith, you reduced me to tears", I replied.
"Do you want to find Lupus?" quipped Smith "then follow this line beneath your feet, follow the Linea Nigra down the schools infinite corridor"; and with that, he disappeared again.
I looked down. Indeed, there was a dark line beneath my feet. I had no alternative but to follow it, since I'd lost something I could not replace. I was hoping to find the Porcelain Gallbladder and in the process, hopefully, find myself.
The schools 251 meter "infinite corridor", which traversed the school, was world-renowned; on several days each year, the sun set in alignment with the Infinite Corridor and shown along its entire length! Unfortunately, this wasn't such a day. I took a mega-dose of vitamin A - this was one time I could not afford to develop night blindness! I began to follow the Linea Nigra. Where would it lead me?
While walking, I developed claudication in the buttocks, buttock atrophy and impotence - I realized I had Leriche syndrome (aortoiliac occlusive disease), clearly. I made a mental note to get an aortoiliac bypass graft, when this was all over. I kept walking..
Suddenly, out of the silence, I heard the sound of stomping; as it got louder, I realized it was a man running towards me. On the stone wall near me I could see his shadow approaching in a sort of choreiform running motion. He was shouting something repeatedly "CAG, CAG, CAG,...". I realized who it was - it was Huntington, Lupus' crony; he was chasing me! I started running.
A strange, tall man with Marfan syndrome pointed his long index finger towards a door witha lit EXIT sign above it. I ran towards it, opened it and found myself in the main Hall of the school, surrounded by a sea of people coming and going. I was safe!
Or was I? There was a loud rumble. I looked up. There, suspended from the large testes of the schools "Fragile X" sculpture-chandelier was Lupus himself, holding the Gallbladder. Holding on to the chandelier, he swung across the ceiling, above our heads . "What a show-off.." I thought.
I noticed that one of the two testes of the "Fragile X" sculpture-chandelier was more enlarged than the other; I thought to myself "Could it be cancer - perchance seminoma, which is the most common type of testicular cancer?". "But wait", I thought some more "maybe it's hydrocele..". I whipped out my excellent flashlight, which shone with the brilliance of a million moons, and aimed at the testes - no transillumination! So it was cancer probably! I took out my x-ray gun (which I lovingly called "Ronald"), and radiated the testes. hey, of course, seminomas being so radiosensitive, shrunk. Lupus could no longer hold on; he lost his grasp and fell to the ground. Could I have done away with him once and for all? The world should be so lucky! I moved closer.
Oh no! The Porcelain Gallbladder was on the mrble floor, IN A MILLION LITTLE PIECES!!! The Porcelain Gallbladder? Lost? Gone? Forever? And ever? Irrevocably? For Eternity?
The adrenaline was pumping through my veins. I continued walking towards Lupus' body. And then, the most unexpected and weird thing happened - a flock of ballerinas dressed in blue emerged from around a corner and starting dancing slowly towards Lupus. The scene was mesmerizing. They were dancing to the music of the "Nutcracker Esophagus". They slowly encircled Lupus' body. By the time they had traversed the hall, Lupus' body had disappeared. The man had a knack for disappearing in style..
Bu the Gallbladder - gone.. Depressed, I took the first Tramtrack train back to Botolphstown. Sitting on the cold pavement of the Central Bus Station back home, I saw these past days pass in front of my eyes, as if they were a film. My cell phone rang. It was an old colleague, Mr. Cairo. "I heard about the Gallbladder, I'm so sorry - but what you don't understand is that inside the statue there was the secret of a medical curse - that was its real value, not the thing itself! Lupus stole it so he could unravel the secret and publish a groundbreaking paper, - not to mention patent and market the treatment"
"A curse!" I said in amazement "Which one, Montezuma's Revenge maybe?"
"No, it's even more rare - Ondine's curse!"
"Oh, no" I replied, worriedly "you mean congenital central hypoventilation syndrome, which causes respiratory arrest during sleep?"
"You have to do something, the worlds infants are at risk!"
And with that, Cairo fell into a deep depression for which he took St. Johns wort; but all that accomplished was to lower the cyclosporine levels in his blood and cause rejection of his transplanted kidney!
So he tried low-dose antidepressants but unfortunately became delirious with background slowing on the EEG. Poor Cair0..
And then, as if that weren't enough, Cairo, who also suffered from Lewy body dementia, started having visual hallucinations in which a man who identified himself as Brown Sequard, revealed the cause of Ondine's curse. Cairo saw all the causative genes of the disease, RET, GDNF, EDN3, BDNF, ASCL1, and above of, PHOX2B, light up in front of him. When he came out of his trance-like state, he recalled the genes, published extensively, and won the Nobel prize in Medicine.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment