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violetsmoak · 5 years

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No Safety or Surprise [Part I - Excerpt]

Summary: A haunting broadcast reveals the Joker’s final act and sets off a chain of events that will destroy the world. Terry finds himself collaborating once more with the estranged members of Bruce’s former team. As the end nears, however, he and the other Bats are faced with hard choices about survival—and forgiveness.

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything to do with Batman. I don’t make any money off this. It’s just me playing in a sandbox. (And I’ll put a better disclaimer on this at some other point.)

Author’s Note: First fic in the Batman universe, yay! (Well, second, but the first one was high school ago and was a blatant self-insert lol). I’ve been toying with this idea for a while now. It’s taken some in-depth planning, but I finally have something to show for it. This is only one part of a very large first chapter, but I thought I’d throw it out there into cyberspace and see what people think. I’ll post it here in mini excerpts, but eventually I’ll put it on FF.Net and Ao3, once it’s all shiny and edited.

Spoilers: Everything in Batman Beyond until but not including the “Rewired” storyline or anything afterward. Also, references to events and characters present in the DC ‘verse up to the New 52 (after the “Robin Rises” story arc) but before Rebirth. (And JFC do I hate keeping all these timelines straight!)

Warnings: Leading up to canon-divergence; eventual main character deaths (except not really, because timey wimey stuff); a few minor original characters; multiple POVs

Timeline: Takes place after the events of 10 000 Clowns but before Terry McGinnis graduates high school.

Bruce is beginning to wonder if a Lazarus Pit might not have been a better idea than the liver transplant. Of the methods for artificially prolonging life, at least with the Pit, he would eventually start to feel like he was recovering.

After the madness subsided, at least.

On days like today—when it’s damp and chilly, and there’s nothing going on in Gotham to keep him glued to the computer screen in the Cave—it’s hard to remember the arguments he’s always made against using the restorative powers of a Lazarus Pit. He body protests with every movement as he eases it through several slowed kata variations. Part of his physical therapy, as suggested (ordered) by his doctors.

Since his procedure, he feels the exhaustion much more keenly. It’s a bone-deep fatigue that seeps into every muscle, emphasizing the way his bones creak and grind against each other, cartilage worn away from age and decades of abuse. It’s the way his energy levels drain so much faster no, to the extent that even his usual ability to will himself into action seems to wane every day.

Not that he really had a choice in the matter. He was in end stage liver failure, and the nearest Pit is in New Cuba. He’d just been lucky that there was a suitable donor in the hospital at the right time.

‘Luck’ is one word for it. ‘Cruel irony’ might be a better phrase.

Douglas Tan is one of the names he’s going to carry on his conscience for the rest of his life; or, at least on his liver.

Terry still makes jokes about Batman having a piece of a Joker inside him, but then Terry tends to use humor to cover up when he’s worried. Dick always did that, too; and Jason.

Bruce scowls, bothered by the direction of his thoughts, as well as the raggedness to his breath. He isn’t even moving very fast, but it’s taking him every bit of strength to keep at it.

Ace is curled up in his usual spot in the cave, watching Bruce with what seems to be narrowed eyes. As if to say, don’t overdo it or I will knock you over.

He knows the dog is smarter than most people.

Ace is one of the reasons the doctors were willing to leave him to pursue recovery on his own and not under some beady-eyed nurse in hospital. Money isn’t as much an incentive as it once was, with so many legal and health standards in the way; the older he gets, the less likely people are to trust his ability to make decisions, lawyers or not.

He tolerated a private nurse for about a day while having Terry make other arrangements and manufacturing a piece of paper saying Ace was a certified service dog. He’s not, but Bruce has no doubt the dog would activate the medical alert button at the computer if something were to happen. And Terry has an alarm set up, keyed into the surveillance and motion sensors in the Cave. If anything were to happen, he can be here faster than any ambulance.

Old age has fed into long-buried fears, and it gives him an embarrassing sense of relief knowing there’s someone to look in on him. It has always bothered him, being dependent—being weak.

Some days he’s more accepting of it; some days he wishes he had Kryptonian DNA.

Which is usually the point at which he forces himself to occupy his mind with other things, because envying Clark Kent can only lead down a dark, frustrating path of self-pity. One he’s determinedly avoided ever since meeting the other man.

After another fifteen minutes of forcing himself to think about nothing but the movement of his limbs, Bruce finally finishes his exercises. Sweat coats his back and his limbs ache with the same burn as if he just spent several hours grappling through the Gotham skyline. Even if it took less challenging movements to reach this point, that burn is comforting.

Familiar.

And that’s a word that’s been cropping up more in his thoughts lately. History tends to repeat, after all, but it’s still strange to experience. Terry’s been an excellent example of that.

Like Bruce, the McGinnis boy started out with nothing but a suit and an old man’s voice in his ear. Now, he’s got a network. Friends who he trusts and who will keep his secret. A steadily growing list of allies in the field.

The Police Commissioner. The Justice League.

And a Catwoman too, for Christ sakes.

He wonders what Selina would think about that.

Bruce just hopes the kid won’t make his mistakes. Forty years is a long time to rack up regrets.

At least Dick’s back in contact now.

Sort of.

He showed up the second night that Bruce was recovering from his procedure at the hospital; he’d managed to convince Terry to go out on patrol instead of wasting his time watching an old man sleep.

“Batman doesn’t get a day off.”

Bruce had dosed for a bit, but not deeply; it wasn’t difficult to discern that he wasn’t alone.

One minute the room was empty and in the next, Bruce could feel that familiar presence—the one of a man who had carried the mantles of Robin, Nightwing and Batman—and somehow lived to tell the tale. Then his estranged son was stepping out of the shadows, glaring down at him, muscles in his jaw working and fists clenching and unclenching.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Bruce had croaked, wishing he had thought to ask for ice chips before the nurse left. “I’m too stubborn to die.”

The silence hanging afterward was filled with everything he couldn’t say yet. For once, Dick didn’t call him on it.

“You’re more stubborn than God,” his boy countered.

(He’ll always be a boy to Bruce, grey hair and eye-patch be damned.)

And yet, he sat, arms crossed and spine stiff for the rest of the night. Still angry, but there nonetheless. He stayed until morning rounds without saying anything, and then left.

They haven’t seen each other since, but sometimes Bruce can hear feedback on the comms when he’s directing Terry’s patrols. The tinny whisper of signals crossing from the bug he pretends he doesn’t know Dick planted on the underside of his medical ID tag.

It’s not much, but it’s something. The opening of the possibility that at some point, he’ll come around.

Barbara did, after all.

Mostly because of Terry, but afterward Bruce started making the effort. They can have conversations alone now that don’t end with her yelling at him (or punching him, on one or two memorable occasions). Bruce forgot how much he enjoyed her sense of humor and intelligence—how much he enjoyed their friendship—from before they slept together.

(That might be one of his life’s biggest shames. Oh, he has regrets associated with all of the family for one thing or another, but this is the one that still wakes him up at night feeling dirty.)

In a way, it’s easier with Tim, and that’s a bridge Bruce thought had been obliterated long ago.

Granted, he’s leaving Gotham again—the last incident with the Joker army rattled him enough that he put in for a transfer to the Chinese division of Wayne Enterprises—but he stuck around long enough to collaborate with Bruce on a subdermal antitoxin deployment implant against Joker venom.

(None of them want to be caught unawares again.)

It’s in the prototype phase, with only five of the devices in existence; he, Tim and Terry are testing them personally. It’s not exactly something the FDA is going to approve for human testing anytime soon, not with all the new legislation, but with the state of Gotham, it’s unwise to wait on it.

(He sent one to Barbara and one to Dick but doesn’t know if they’ve bothered to activate them. At least they haven’t sent them back.)

If the implant works, Bruce is seriously considering modifying the tech for the Wayne Enterprises medical division. There are a lot of illnesses and viruses out there which require regular dosages of medicine to keep them under control.

Maybe that’s the next project, after CAIN, he muses, grabbing his towel from where he draped it over one of the computer processors.

His global Clean Air Initiative Network is something he’d been working on before stepping back from the company. It was shelved almost immediately by Derek Powers when he took over, but since Bruce has been back, he’s been revisiting a lot of old projects.

Lucius’ boy did most of the technical work on it, and Foxtecha will have joint ownership of the patent when it’s ready for public consumption. Bruce would have asked Tim, but he knows how determined he is to get out of Gotham. He can read it in the tone of his emails, which have thankfully lost the stilted, formal business tone they’ve had since he returned to the company.

(Bruce mentioned paying a visit in the future, and Tim didn’t say no, so he counts that as a win.)

It’s a little disconcerting how the family is coming together again; disconcerting but welcome.

He’s received a vid call last week from Cassandra expressing concern over his surgery, and then a short, gruff email from Duke all-but ordering him to get better. There’s even a letter from Stephanie—or Eurus, as she goes by these days—smelling of dust and desert sun and incense found only in Nanda Parbat. Her messy, looping scrawl, echoed Dick’s sentiment about Bruce’s stubbornness and alluded to its genetic inheritability.

(That said more than if she had actually mentioned Damian outright.)

Bruce lost track of her not long after his son’s short and brutal stint under the cowl; it had surprised him to find out she ended up in Tibet.

It also relieved him. Because no matter how dark a path his son wandered, there would be someone to challenge him. To not obey without question. To give him a link to the life he once had, to being human and alive.

(Bruce very carefully doesn’t think about Jason—doesn’t wonder if things had been different, if he wouldn’t have reached out as well. Even after so many years, that wound is still raw.)

The whole thing is a stark difference from the last few times he ended up in the hospital, including when he was dosed on Joker venom several months ago. He didn’t hear anything from them at that point, which makes him think someone really thought he was dying this time and reached out.

Barbara, maybe. Or Dick. However much tension there is between himself and Bruce, he does keep in touch with the others.

Hell, it might even have been Terry. The kid doesn’t know the rest of them personally, but he’s gotten adept at navigating the computer in the cave. And he’s always been curious about his predecessors.

Bruce’s first family.

Or maybe just the first phase of the family.

Bruce shies away from that secret bit of knowledge he has about Terry, and his brother Matt. What he discovered the first time the kid returned to the Cave with bloody gashes that needed stitching up. The files and medical information buried beneath every firewall he could fashion, so the boy never stumbles upon it accidentally.

The most he’s allowed himself to acknowledge it is an amendment in his will setting aside trust funds for both boys.

As if triggered by his thoughts, the screen of the Bat-Computer flickers to life. He rolls his shoulders, expecting an alert on some heist or robbery going on in the city; another case to add to the docket for Terry to investigate after school (depending on the severity).

Bruce doesn’t expect the Cave to suddenly fill with a jaunty, haunting carnival tune that makes his entire body seize in recognition. And yet, he already knows what’s coming even before the words HA HA HA coalesce upon the screen.

TBC

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arplis · 4 years

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Arplis - News: Her Son Was Born With "Bubble Boy Disease" - Here’s How They Lived in Isolation For More Than a Year

The self-isolation that is required to curb the spread of the coronavirus can feel overwhelming, particularly for families who are struggling to cope with their sudden lack of freedom and newfound limitations. For one Los Angeles-based family, however, the government mandate to "shelter in place" for several weeks straight has been, well, a theoretical walk in the theoretical park. Just over two years ago, Armené Kapamajian gave birth to her second child, a boy named Sasoun. And for that first week, all was well. That is, until she and her husband, Michael, discovered their baby was born with a rare disorder called Severe Combined Immunodeficiency, or SCID. The illness is more commonly known as the "bubble boy disease" - those who have it are extremely vulnerable to bacteria and viruses as benign as the common cold, and they are likely to die if they don't live in a sterile environment. Before Armené could even grasp how her family's life would be upended, the switch had already been flipped. In a blink, she found herself trapped in a 15-foot by 15-foot hospital room, alone with her newborn. Before Armené could even grasp how her family's life would be upended, the switch had already been flipped. In a blink, she found herself ostensibly trapped in an aseptic 15-foot by 15-foot hospital room, alone with her newborn. She wasn't allowed to see her 2-year-old son, Vaughn, in person, and the few times her husband - cloaked in a gown and mask - was able to visit, they couldn't touch. What followed after those three excruciatingly long months was a transition to what many of us are now faced with: in-home isolation. Only for the Kapamajians, their compulsory quarantine lasted for a full year, and for Armené and her children, there were no quiet walks to the park, no quick Target runs, no virtual play dates or remote preschool, no free educational apps, no letting off steam in the backyard. She didn't feel a blade of grass or the fresh breeze through an open window for more than a year. "I think, as with the rest of the world right now, you are just thrown into it," Armené told POPSUGAR of her 15-month experience in isolation. "There wasn't a chance to figure out how to cope. At the beginning, I was just very numb and incredulous that this was happening, and as days went on, it just started to feel normal." Related: This Mom's Family Was Quarantined For a Year Straight - These Are Her 8 Isolation Rules "We Had No Idea Anything Was Wrong" Back in November 2017, Armené - a former grade-school teacher - had just given birth to her second son in relatively unremarkable fashion. She and Michael, an ophthalmologist, were sent home from the hospital with their newborn baby after the requisite two days. "Exactly one week later, we received a phone call from our pediatrician that one of the newborn screening tests had come back abnormal," Michael told POPSUGAR. This would be how they learned of his diagnosis. "It made him exquisitely susceptible to life-threatening infections because he was essentially born with an immune system that did not work. We had no idea." They quickly learned that to survive, Sasoun would need a bone marrow transplant, and until they were able to determine a match and undergo the procedure, neither Sasoun, nor Armené, could contract even the smallest infection for fear it would be fatal. "I couldn't process anything our doctor was saying because it felt like the world started to crash down around me." "My mind went blank, and I couldn't process anything our doctor was saying because it felt like the world started to crash down around me," Armené recalled. "I remember thinking, 'How is this happening? He's so little. He didn't even begin his life yet and already it could be taken away.'" Without even a day to emotionally prepare, she and her week-old baby were put into a strict hospital quarantine. "There was definitely a deep sense of doom," Michael recalled. He thought they'd be in isolation for 30 days, max. "I was very worried about Armené's mental health and Vaughn's ability to cope without seeing his mother for one month. I had no clue it would be three." Related: Families Are Taping Drawings in Their Windows to Stay Connected and Spread Joy "I Felt Like a Ghost" There was no easing into quarantine life for Armené. One minute, she was a typical mom of two, balancing her toddler's needs with the inconsistent naps and feeding schedules of a newborn, and the next, she was cut off from the world she knew. "I was not allowed to leave the room, even for food," she said of the sparse hospital quarters, which included one small locked window that overlooked a parking garage. "My husband would come in a few times per week to take our clothes home, wash them, and bring them back." "I missed literally every major celebration in our family because they all happened while we were in isolation." The doctors and nurses at UCLA Medical Center in Santa Monica were given orders to enter their room as little as possible to prevent contamination. "Aside from bringing a meal tray and checking on us twice a 12-hour shift, it was really just sitting in a room alone." It may have felt like a footnote by this point, but Armené was still a woman recovering from childbirth. She was experiencing jarring postpartum hormonal shifts while having to care for her new baby around the clock without any support. Without a single break. Without a reprieve from a single diaper change or crying fit. There was no question that she'd entered into a depression. "I think the hardest part was just being left with your own thoughts," she revealed. "I felt awful about everything. I felt terrible I wasn't there physically for Vaughn. I felt like a ghost for Sasoun. I was trying to give him the needs of any baby - love, affection, nutrition - while also being scared out of my mind for his future. I tried to save up the sadness for when he was sleeping." Adding to the pain of this adjustment period was that it overlapped with the holiday season and all of her family's eagerly awaited milestones - she missed celebrating Vaughn's third birthday and her husband's birthday. She spent her own birthday, as well as Christmas, New Year's, and Valentine's Day, in a starkly different reality than the one she'd planned. "I missed literally every major celebration in our family because they all happened while we were in isolation." She didn't get to take adorable photos of her two boys under the Christmas tree wearing the matching holiday pajamas she bought. The hospital did its best to give her festive supplies to decorate the room. While other patients got tabletop trees, because of Sasoun's condition, there was no way to ensure they were germ-free. Instead, she strung lights on the wall in the shape of a tree and attached a stocking to his bassinet. She was grateful for the hospital's Child Life program, which delivered a gift from Santa to Sasoun and even a few toys for her older son that she could wrap herself before they were delivered. Meanwhile, Michael sent her photos of Vaughn opening presents in his Christmas PJs, and although she appreciated them, it still served as a "painful reminder" of all that was missing. "It was just the expectations I had for our life that were not going to happen," she said. "It Was Too Difficult, Watching Everyone's Happy Lives Go On" Oddly, in that first month of hospital isolation, Armené was unable to escape the triggers of the outside world. She'd been moderately active on social media, but it quickly became another flashing neon sign of what she didn't have. "Anytime I signed on, I saw newborns who were born the same time as Sasoun at home, happy and snug in bed," she said. "Meanwhile, I was pinning down my screaming child in a cold hospital room as he was getting test after test done, alone. I saw beautiful babies in such sweet first family photos." She had planned to have professional newborn portraits taken of Sasoun, but it never happened. "I would feel happiness for the family, but then I would feel awful because it wasn't like that for us." What's more, it was "too difficult watching everyone's happy lives go on" while hers was frozen at its worst chapter. "Their 'big' problems and 'annoyances' of the day were meaningless things, like, 'Ugh, the Starbucks barista put the wrong milk in my drink!' kind of stuff, which would totally bother anyone!" Armené admitted. "I didn't want to have negative thoughts toward friends and family, so I just cut myself mostly off." Watching cable TV lasted a week, too. "Since it was Christmastime, it would cut to a commercial of a smiley happy family gathered around the table or baking cookies," she said. "And it was the same ads over and over again." Michael brought her a Roku streaming device that allowed her to watch shows commercial-free, and that helped. Soon, she discovered a curious antidote for her feelings of remorse over others' joy. She began reading about truly dark moments in history. She read firsthand accounts of the Holocaust and the Armenian Genocide. "It helped gain perspective," she said. "You can go down in a spiral of 'Oh, my life is terrible, why me?' But then you read about [historical tragedies] and you rethink your situation. My family is safe, I'm in a place where people are caring for us, I have food, I have clean clothes, I can shower, we have electricity and running water. That's even more than a lot of people in the world." "Time Crawled Every Day" Eventually, Armené began to find what Michael called their "new normal." A few weeks earlier, they'd gotten the good news that Vaughn was a complete bone marrow match for his little brother. What proved even more miraculous? While deliberating their fears of having to conduct an invasive bone marrow harvest on a 2-year-old boy under general anesthesia, the couple remembered they'd saved Vaughn's cord blood when he was born. Other than a few finger-prick blood samples, that was all they needed for the transplant. Armené and Sasoun were transferred to a different hospital for the procedure, and it was a much-needed change of scenery. On one hand, the room was larger, so she had space to walk around, and it had more windows and a desk - so she no longer had to eat every meal in her bed. But on the other, she no longer had a bed at all. Because Sasoun had moved into a full crib and would be hooked up to bulky machines at times, they could only supply Armené with a pull-out armchair. "It was awful," she said. "There isn't room to roll over, so you have to flip to turn your body. I was always really happy at the end of every night when I could jump out and be done sleeping." Once at this new facility, she focused on creating a schedule for herself. "I wasn't interested in hearing people's sympathy or telling me it was going to be OK when no one knew if it was going to be. I didn't have the capacity to put on a brave face for everyone." "I found a pattern in the day, and it started to feel comfortable and familiar and not so unexpected anymore," she said. "I made sure I was up and 'dressed' - just comfy leggings and tops - before the doctors rounded. I folded and put away my bedding in the closet, so my room felt neat and tidy. I took a shower, did my hair, put minimal makeup on every morning while I knew Sasoun was asleep - that made a world of difference." She'd spend her mornings eating breakfast and listening in to the different groups of doctors as they rounded. From there, she braced herself for another day alone. "I would wait until a certain hour before I could order a meal, and I just kept staring at the clock thinking, 'OK, now it's the afternoon! Good job!'" Armené said. "Time crawled every day. Mentally, it was exhausting." Related: It's OK If You Do Nothing "Extra" With This Time at Home With Your Kids She listened to music on the hospital-issued iPad, she did a little online shopping, and she watched the Winter Olympics in real time, which gave her something to talk about with nurses. And she binged TV shows. She watched all 201 episodes of The Office, and the first time she remembered laughing out loud was in her second week of isolation during an episode of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. When that happened, she said, "I knew that it must be a really good show." She'd alternate between light sitcoms and dark historical nonfiction. That and video-chatting with Michael and Vaughn. She'd read him bedtime stories and say goodnight every evening. "I made the mistake of not FaceTiming enough each day, but really that was because I wasn't interested in hearing people's sympathy or telling me it was going to be OK when no one knew if it was going to be. I didn't have the capacity to put on a brave face for everyone." "You Forget What It's Like to Have Your Spouse Next to You" Because of Michael's medical background, he was the family's first line of defense in understanding the protocols and prognoses that were being put into place from the moment Sasoun was diagnosed. Armené entrusted him to "handle the medical care of our son," so in addition to raising Vaughn with the help of his own mother and caring for his patients, he spent every free moment dissecting updates from dozens of different doctors. One of the first bits of information he recalls getting - a text message from their immunologist - had nothing to do with his son. "He was cautioning me that these types of things can be very taxing on a relationship," Michael recalled. "I wasn't sure what he meant when he texted it, but as time went on, I began to understand. An extended period of time away from your spouse, combined with an intense level of anxiety, fear, and uncertainty, almost makes you forget what it's like to have your spouse next to you every day." And because his main role was acting as the messenger of often demoralizing medical updates, he struggled to communicate with Armené. He did his best to share only what he thought she was emotionally equipped to handle, which meant he was often alone in fully understanding the stakes. Unsurprisingly, they fought. They'd get angry and lash out at each other. "We would argue about our own frustrations and how we were looking at things," he said. "I don't think Armené was in a place to be able to handle some of the comments I would make about the situation . . . she needed me to be stronger." In hindsight, Armené recognized that he was as scared and frustrated as she was, but in the moment, it was hard to believe. "I tried to keep reminding myself that he was going through this, too. In times like this, it doesn't make sense to create a divide." And although they had very few moments of connection in those three months, they tried to make those short, 10-minute intervals count. Sure, when Michael dropped off clothes to the hospital on Armené's birthday, she dressed up - in "my very fancy leggings," she joked - for his arrival, only to watch him fall asleep on the chair for most of the visit. But he certainly redeemed himself other times. Like with the Roku, and on Valentine's Day. "We couldn't have live flowers in the room because of isolation precautions, so Michael brought me a really pretty fake potted orchid," Armené recalled. "It looked so real that nurses kept stopping him to tell him that he couldn't bring it in the room." She still has it and thinks of how far they've come every time she walks by it. "Coming Home, I Felt Like I Was at Disneyland" Six weeks into their hospital isolation, Sasoun underwent the transplant of Vaughn's cord blood, and the results were promising. After several more weeks of testing, the medical team determined it was safe to bring him home as long as they maintained a similarly sterile quarantine environment. For the next year, their home would become the bubble. "I felt like I was at Disneyland," Armené said of her homecoming. In fact, on the walk to the car from the hospital, she felt the cool breeze on her face and realized she hadn't touched fresh air in three months. Caught up in the moment, she posed for a photo that reenacted a scene in Shawshank Redemption when Andy Dufresne escapes prison and stands, arms outstretched, in the rain. "I was so incredibly happy and thankful." She recalls thinking how beautiful her house was - "it felt so ornate compared to stark hospital walls and medical equipment." She was grateful for real glasses and silverware and plates and for having a bed again. But she was mostly relieved to have her family all together for essentially the first time. "To be able to touch and hug Michael and Vaughn, it was just so nice." It was also . . . different. "The most interesting thing I noticed after they came home was - and I'm not saying this was bad or intentional, but rather inevitable - that our household was very much Armené and Sasoun and then Vaughn and me," Michael said. "It didn't feel like a unit, but rather two units living together." They made a conscious effort to "meld our family back together. And to "make up for lost time," Armené created the happiest home she could. "We celebrated everything, since we missed out on so much while we were in the hospital. We decorated for each little holiday and made everything a big deal. We were most definitely happy to be celebrating life." "All day with small children in the house gets tiring because you are never alone and always needed, 24/7." Yet, as with most new things, the novelty wore off. They weren't allowed to play in the backyard or sit on the front porch. Sometimes, loved ones would come up to their window and wave or make conversation, and although it made Armené feel loved and remembered, her feelings shifted. "Later in the day, if I stepped back and thought about it, it reminded me of the situation we were in," she said. "I felt bad for both of my boys because they were not leading normal lives." As cautious as they still were about Sasoun's health, they now had added concern for Vaughn. "He was supposed to be in school, he was supposed to be able to play soccer, or even just play outside with me like we did when Armené and Sas were in the hospital," Michael said. "Having them back home placed more restrictions on Vaughn because now we couldn't risk him getting sick as it would pose a huge risk to Sas." Related: Educators Explain Why Parents Shouldn’t Be Let Off the Hook With Homeschooling Their Kids They bought a Little Tikes inflatable bounce house that took up their entire living room just so he could have space to run and jump and play. Although Vaughn understood a lot of their situation and "seemed to handle it so well," Armené, who used to be a teacher, was concerned about his social and emotional development. She made a production out of the school experience. "Every day, I put a backpack on him with his supplies and I kissed him goodbye and told him to have a good day at school," she said. "Then he would go out one entrance of the kitchen, walk around the whole first floor of our house and come back in another entrance where I would greet him as my student. It would make him so happy. He called me Mrs. K." Armené would send photos from their "school day" to Michael who admitted they were "heartwarming and depressing" all at once. Just as many families around the world are experiencing to a lesser degree right now, being home nonstop was a special form of exhaustion for Armené. "All day with small children in the house gets tiring because you are never alone and always needed, 24/7," she said. "It's hard when you are making every single meal of the day, day after day. I missed not having to cook if I didn't want to, and I missed going out with Michael or with friends. I missed alone time and feeling like a human." "I Literally Had to Fend Off His Hugs So I Could Decontaminate" Because Michael still had to leave the home for work - and thus ran every errand - he was Sasoun's biggest health threat. Whenever he returned, he had to go through a rigorous decontamination process. "I'd get home, remove my clothing in the laundry room and place it in the washer, wash my hands, go upstairs to take a shower, and then come down with clean clothes to join everyone," he explained. "In the beginning, when I still wasn't used to this, sometimes I'd just go out for an errand on a Saturday, come home and decontaminate only to realize as soon as I was finished that there was something else I needed to do, which meant going through decontamination again. There were days where I had to do this three times in a day. My skin was cracking all over." But soon enough he learned to plan his outings to minimize the number of decontamination rituals he'd have to undergo. "Just getting home and being able to hug everyone was something I missed a lot," he said. "It scared me because as much as Vaughn led us to believe he completely understood what was going on, he was still 3 years old. I didn't want him to think I was cold, but the first few times I came home from work after Armené and Sas had gotten home, I remember Vaughn coming to the door to hug me and I literally had to fend off his hugs and tell him to wait so I could clean up." It took a week before Vaughn no longer ran to greet him at the door. Michael had successfully trained him out of that behavior. "That wasn't what I wanted, but what could I do?" Inevitably, Michael would get sick. "The first time I thought I might have a cold, I took a box of masks upstairs with me and locked myself in the bedroom." It wasn't until January 2019 that he truly got sick, nearly 10 months into their home quarantine. To be safe, he rented a hotel and stayed there for two nights. "Once I started feeling better, I came home but maintained strict respiratory precautions and locked myself in the guest bedroom," he said. "Every morning when I'd leave, I would spray Lysol in the entire bedroom and back out of the room, then close the door. I'd then walk backwards through our living room and to the garage, spraying Lysol in front of me to 'cover' the areas I'd walked through." Eventually, though, Sasoun's blood tests indicated that his immune system was working, that it could ward off small infections. First, they were cleared to go outside. Sasoun's feet touched the ground for the first time in his life. Then, they could allow a few extended family members in their home - so long as they followed strict protocol and could verify they weren't sick that past week. They eased slowly into every new glimmer of freedom. "I'm So Happy to Be With People Again" It's been 28 months since Sasoun's diagnosis, and they've been out of their home isolation for a year. Vaughn's now 5 and Sasoun is a healthy 2-year-old. "This past summer was the first time we all went out for a family dinner since Sasoun was born," Michael said. "We just went to California Pizza Kitchen, but, man, for us it was such a landmark moment." They took dozens of photos of that meal as they began to realize that, maybe, they could "be normal" again. For Armené and Michael, this came with newfound happiness. Before Sasoun was born, "like most couples, we argued about stupid things and got on each other's nerves about nonsense," Michael said. Now? They simply don't anymore. The experience taught them to be kinder with each other and more respectful. He added that even though he used to "look at every little thing and overanalyze the crap out of it," he shrugs off small issues now. "I feel healthier and better equipped to be the husband and parent I've wanted to be. I honestly think I would have driven myself or Armené and the kids nuts had I remained as nitpicky as I was before this happened to us." Armené, in particular, has appreciated her loved ones so much more, Sasoun included. "It's odd – some people would think that you could resent your child in this situation, but I never felt that," she said. "The silver lining is that because he had my undivided attention, we bonded more. If I was home, I would be entertaining Vaugn, cooking dinner, cleaning the house, running errands, driving around. But since I spent all day holding him, it made our relationship strong. I'm thankful to have had that opportunity." "To this day, whenever anyone announces a birth, I hold my breath for a week." She takes no day, or encounter with a relative, for granted. "Every day is a gift with them," she said. "My grandfather passed away while we were in isolation, and I couldn't go to his funeral - that hurt a lot, that I couldn't say goodbye and be with my family at a difficult time. So I really enjoy every single outing. That hasn't worn off, and I'm so happy to be with people again. I probably talk too fast when I'm with friends because I'm just so thankful." It was with great trepidation that they got to this point and not without some emotional scars. Although Michael said his intense negative feelings - of "fear, anger, confusion, hopelessness, vulnerability, and dejection" - have gone away, Armené has held onto a bit more. "To this day, whenever anyone announces a birth, I hold my breath for a week," she said. "Luckily, all their babies are healthy, but I don't really relax for them until a week goes by." She also had a hard time exhaling whenever they left their home. She felt paranoid Sasoun might catch something. This past October, he did. "That would be the first time his immune system would actually be tested, so we were nervous," Michael said. "But he handled it. Three days and it was gone. Did this little guy actually do it? Did he just clear an infection by himself? It was amazing." Armené is still careful. She uses covers on grocery carts and high chairs, she cleans restaurant tables with hospital-grade wipes before sitting down, she sanitizes Sasoun's hands constantly. "When we pick up Vaughn from school, I get scared when other children run up to see Sasoun," she said. "I usually scoop him up or wash his hands immediately. I second-guess a lot of things, like, 'Oh, he touched that . . . and touched his face. Will he get sick?' A friendly grandmother pinched his cheek. 'Did that person cough into their hand or wipe their nose recently?' I calm myself down by saying, 'Well, it already happened so we will just have to wait it out and see.'" "It Feels Like All of This Was For Something" Of course, the recent coronavirus outbreak has affected the Kapamajians just as it has the rest of the world. Because he works at a hospital, Michael admits he is "scared to death of bringing the virus home" - he has reverted back to his old decontamination procedures. The only difference for Armené is that she's not panicking at the thought of staying at home for an extended period of time. She'd already done it for the better part of 450 days. "All I could think about was, 'God, I can't believe we are back here again. I can't believe we have to wipe everything down again.'" "The first day when I was gathering supplies and I knew it was the last time I would be out for who knows how long, all I could think about was, 'God, I can't believe we are back here again. I can't believe we have to wipe everything down again. I can't believe it will be so long until I see any of my friends or Vaughn can go to t-ball and school again,'" she said. Because they planned to go into voluntary isolation before any mandates were even being established, she was one of the first to cancel plans. "I'm missing wedding showers, christenings . . . my family had to cancel their trip out to visit us," she said. "Just as everyone else I am sure has done, I got so frustrated, I cried. I was so angry that once again we were going to put our entire life on pause. I was frustrated for my kids, that it seems like they keep having to spend long periods of their life in isolation." Michael reminded her: they'd be OK. They had done this before. And if anyone knew how to do it, it was her. She said their first day back in isolation felt so familiar and oddly safe. "I knew that by staying in, I was keeping not only our family safe this time, but it seemed our entire community," she said. "I knew I was missing nothing because everything has been canceled for everyone. We are all in this together, so I have zero FOMO. And in a weird turn of events, I became an isolation expert among family and friends. Every day I check in on someone or someone calls me and asks my advice." She even started filming Facebook videos with tips on how to properly self-isolate. Michael, for his part, is writing a book about their experience in the hopes it will inspire other families facing similarly uncharted territory. "It feels like all of this was for something," Armené said. "It wasn't just a random, awful hardship we went through. Maybe we went through this so we could offer some help or consolation for everyone else going through it. Because if we did this for a year, we can all do this for a few weeks or even months." #TouchingStories #FamilyLife #StayingHome #SpecialNeeds #FamilyRelationships

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/her-son-was-born-with-bubble-boy-disease-here-s-how-they-lived-in-isolation-for-more-than-a-year

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

Text

A lot of control freaks are at risk. Mostly,control freaks

The ones that must invite evil into other's lives.

The mom that doesn't care her daughter doesn't like her fiance and feels it a mistake to have gotten engaged. But continues to push her daughter, even planning the wedding for her to force her to marry someone whom will be unkind to her

The moms that get limited money welfare or child support and goes and gets her nails and hair done and leaves the children in rags.

The moms that force their children to be perfect at all times, children never had the joy of feeling free. Mud between their toys without receiving corporal punishment aka an ass whipping.

The "friend" always pushing you into drug use.

The "friend" bullying you to go out every night calling you a nerd for wanting to do homework or eat dinner with family.

The teacher that stuffs more and more work down your throat with nary an encouraging word nor tone.

The principal that beats students so hard with paddles it can be heard through the halls of the school and the child not being able to sit pain free without days.

The doctor that doesnt listen to your symptoms and sends you home without proper care Because they are too busy and overbooked.

The dentist that applies a chemical to rot teeth so that they can get money from repairing what looks like cavities in xrays

The adults breaking bones in others because they're "too" drunk or high or much of an ass hole not to be selfish jerks.

Bullies. People that don't mean well but we trust with our souls and lives and they purposely push advice or decisions onto others who dont want them.

Someone who doesn't allow you to breathe freely.

"You don't know how to allow us to breathe. So let us breathe for you" The Ventilator response to idiots and jerks who think they rule the world and you aren't allowed to think or breathe for yourself. In response to the person whom says "you don't know how to breathe. Let me do it for you"

Breathing the same term as live.

Its a beautiful virus Corona and COVID-19

Ironically it affects most Zulululu aliens... And they are the ones that created it.

Welcome to Eaerth. 🌎

COVID-19

Co Ventilator ID (children & adults as age) 19

Those of us helicopter parents ... Co parent the child with the world and the child as age 19.

Those of us helicopter children .... Co parent the parent with the world and parent as age 19.

Thus you see the equation is equality between children and adults.

I by far have raised more children than any other teacher taught for a maximum of 60 years and done it better than them by treating them as adults.

62% of negative comments about the way i taught the NHRA children said I needed to tone down sexual abuse and other information i gave them, the problem is As Adults we Learn that we were sexually abused and People KNEW at that time we were young that it was bad. So i had to tell them each and every thing that could be bad. Because they asked.

They asked me an "adult" question. I treated their questions as they were planning to go play with another child's vagina and wanted to know what the abuse part was.

Had I not explained in exact and general terms as I did they could become sexual predators themselves.

That is how i dealt with the situation. Because I was too afraid they would say "that happened to me" So i treated them as potential abusers. Because I would have ended up back behind that candy shack shaking and hysterical losing my mind. So i put up a barrier between their possible pain and myself.

And educated them in how not to become a sexual predator.

Of those NHRA children, in that sexual awareness class, 13 children only 1 became a sexual offender, repeat rapist and it was Ben who refused to listen and usually sat at his desk drawing. Of the kids that paid attention 0 became sexual offenders.

And if you watched the video they clearly focused on Ben to show he was not listening to the content nor context.

Furthermore. I had to teach them all the ins and outs so if perhaps they were an unfortunate victim they would tell me and we would have the CIA investigate so it would never happen to them

I didn't know if they asked because they were thinking about bodies and various ways they could be touched or if they were asking because they had been touched that way.

So had i shut down any child's question with that's too much information and not have a male come explain it and never have the question answered. I knew i would slam the door in the child's face from self healing from abuse or preventing it from happening to them or to someone else.

They needed all the information available. To understand that if they are touched wrongly they have to know it was wrong and that they could get help. They deserved help and someone would help them.

If i said generally "if you are touched here here or here and you don't want to be and so you were molested" then we would have a shit ton more false rape reports out there.

More lives ruined for lack of information

More lives ruined for lack of information.

Treating every one as age 19. Old enough to smoke. Old enough to rent their own home. Old enough to have their own car. Old enough to know better and too young to care.

50 year old ... "Oh sonny I can't do that I'm too old" no ya ain't old lady. You can do it too.

5 year old ... "My mom says I'm too young but i know I can" then it's something that age isn't discriminatory about.

One common thing is Learning. A child can go to an University class. 7,852,931,862,985,301 people signed up for the free wellness class at Yale of those people 76% were under age 18.

Yale. A top Ivey League school. A University most people are aged 18 or more to attend.

13% were age 50 and above.

Two different people age groups vastly far from one another deciding they could do the same exact thing a 19 year old can do.

COVID-19 surviving.

We don't take away Granny's drivers license simply because shes old. She has the same rights to decide her driving benefits as a 19 year old.

No putting granny in a nursing home when she can still keep up her own residence. She has the same rights to decide where and when to live as a 19 year old.

No telling granny and our son who they cannot or can date. When our 3 year old says "my soulmate Is here. I want to introduce you and myself to her" then you go as if they were 19 years old.

COVID-19 that term will allow us surviving the Apocalypse to survive our world that is leftover.

Corona Virus. Time down with Our Spouse and children. The difference between a child and adult is the adult can drink a beer because they are over the age of 21. So in the state of COVID-19 we still respect you're fucking old enough to have kids and we can't tell you what to do.

Wahu Virus. Whahoooooo!! The world will be a better place everyday.

We didn't create the virus. Only the names and chose to not prevent the disease to be released but to be available to be spread.

Nathaniel is always ordering the release of Viruses in China and Hong Kong. I over heard his phone calls and wrote them here. Only 62% of you remember.

He wanted a job...

So it was apparently a code. So our CIA went into the computer and advised them to release it into the Wahu zip code. Meanwhile our CIA on the ground prevented and arrested the ones spreading the disease and only allowed 25% of the virus to hit its targets.

We knew it would spread naturally and the thing was to make a big deal instead of a big virus splash into our air and land.

The targets were outlying rural areas that we allowed. Not deep city but because it was air based we chose to allow the open air places to receive the diseases.

So in a place where 500,000 people would be exposed we closed that to an area where only 5,000 would be.

So while we chose to allow a virus to spread we already had magic done to allow it to kill only EVIL HUMANS. as aliens are not ours to kill...

Except as it progressed evil aliens took too much joy and wanted to do destruction, too. So that is when Wendy and her Team changed the virus to include also Evil Aliens who have no right to be on Earth.

As People became concerned as to how to not catch the Virus COVID-19 became the name.

We never wanted China to be held responsible nor it be called The China virus so we never called it Wahu. Straight to Corona. We said we would back fold it to why we chose that location in particular.

Nathaniel's Zulululu lab is in northern China. So it would been in China it was released. We made up a huge event that was top secret about anti government assassins... People like me would be attending in the millions. And so this way we manipulated the Zulululu to believe it was the best place when really we Jist liked the name and it would suit our purpose to educate for future reasons.

We had to shut down the world's government. And this was simple.

To prove i do have control of the world and we don't want Zulululu here at all or other aliens. They don't fit. They don't live well here. We don't mesh. We aren't friends.

I'm not living on a planet that always deems killing and war necessary. For Some one to try to gain control like sport while hurting my friends I allow to live here, this is my planet it wasn't created by any another than me and Alex. Marc is a star from a collapsed galaxy. Its a long story. But we are a 3some.

When Venus was attacked. We allowed them a safe Haven. We invited them and changed our world to include them

Those some aliens that attacked Venus live here now.

I allowed them and all aliens from 1777 to 1977 to prove they have the ability to sustain their alien life here. Only 1 planet has proven they had the ability.

In the film Virgin River i once again visited to notify the leaders of Zulululu they needed to evacuate inn 1979. They instead said they would change me to rule the world. So i took that challenge. It is now 2020. And they have failed. All alien life has failed.

In the film you'll see I do things my way. To prove they are wrong and do not deserve a place on my planet.

You'll see i do allow friendly conversation and warmness between the community and I.

I get tired of the lying bitch ass mayor and i do strike her with a heart attack. You'll see me extra extra pissed off in those episodes.

So review those and realize I'm totally fucking pissed. Especially when i am standing in her living room after.

But i still remain friendly. I even bring the bitch her dam mattress down.

But i wanted to kill her and didn't. I could had but th3 point was to tell her to quit lying. She figured out who I was fairly early on and abandoned the baby to distract me. I was a trophy to be kept In the neighborhood. Not someone to listen to.

Look at Chloe's eyes. She's certainly of an alien quality..

I also knew what they were up to.

If you watch it seems things take abrupt turns ... Its research. Knowledge gained from patterns and observations.

Like now i watched and right away knew who was lovers. But it is not revealed until i figure it out then. So when she brings out the divorce I had only realized it after going into,her bedroom that the cabin was hers. And doctor had already yelled at her about me staying in his cabin. So in her bedroom I realized they were at one time living together due to her decor. And photos on the night stand on his side of the bed...

Point is we ghosted into alien communities refusing to leave to ask them to leave. Walked and existed in their communities as we did in our own with our True Loves, family and friends.

We proved they had not adhered to guidelines.

And this is why we have WWIII.

Because they are still here.

In the film you'll see phones like now to show them what we could be provided and would provide their home planets with to communicate on.

When they refused we took all our stuff away. And left them with nothing. If we replaced a TV with one of ours... When i left. They had nothing left. I took what was mine in a fit of rage. And didn't return what had stood there before.

We provided them with these items via magic 1-4 months before arriving so they would not suspect a stranger.

The first time we hadn't and in 1979 it was the second time we attempted to help them gently understand they needed other leave.

That is why what you see now in WWIII is so cold, calculated and done. Pissed off. No 2 ways. Fuck you do what i say.

33 years extra i tried different ways. Their recommended ways. To allow them one last chance..

Now in my mind these bitches are all dead. Cause im gonna kill what they live in and eject their souls.

Currently our galaxy is in a black hole. So they can't find us and how to return. Any Galaxy in a Black Hole means if you try to enter you will be killed upon sight..

No "are you lost can i help you?" Instant death.

And our planet is in a black hole within the black holes. It has been since 1817. That is why the only planet we see is Venus because we brought it with us.

Otherwise we could see almost every planet and moon in existence but we don't.

Because of rude ass alien invaders.

So with the Corona Virus we made rules that have punishment of death attached if they are not followed precisely.

To further protect us in the future.

"What's your parenting plan?"

"COVID-19 and if we don't do it we will die"

Aliens will think again about settling in if for some reason they happen to make it to Eaerth.

Then we ruthlessly kill aliens "that wasn't age 19" no second chances..

Loop hole is all ages are treated as 19. So if they do treat us as age 19 because they studied before trying to invade...,well that happened to so and so when,they were 10 --- "we are informed you treated him like a 10 year old. You must be executed immediately"

19 at age 10. 10 at age 19.

You see? Air and water tight.

No one is fucking with our planet again.

Simply they will learn to stay the fuck off.

Don't worry m I break this down to nano if ever we're invaded.

But I built it beyond xyano to prevent it.

So we will be okay.

Work on being safe and taking care and enjoying life. Memorizing your new parental models of COVID-19

0 notes

nirah10 · 6 years

Text

Posts regarding AIDS

After some of the recent discussions, my inbox suddenly got a lot of messages discussing HIV/AIDS, particularly the crisis in the 80′s. I decided to compile all the posts here rather than posting them all individually.

From Anon,

United states only statistics:

Since 1981, close to 779,000 people have died from AIDS in the US and approximately 15,929 people died in 2015 alone.

As of 2014, the number of new HIV cases in the US remained stable (not spiking or dropping) with approximately 50,000 Americans diagnosed each year.

Women made up 18% of new HIV infections in 2010, bringing the number of American females that are HIV-positive to 210,802.

Gay and bisexual men are the groups most severely affected by HIV in the US. They accounted for more than 62% of all new HIV infections in the US in 2014. Although this has dropped from 70 percent in 1998.

You don’t really think of HIV anymore, but 50 thousand new people still get it every year just in the U.S, and over sixty percent of that is gay men, with an even higher percentage amoung African American gay men. And 16 thousand people still die each year just in the US.

Just in the US, with medication and education about it.

In some countries, particularly African nations, the medication and treatment is not available and so, so, so many are still dying.

Thought I would mention these stats, as I saw Queer as Folk being mentioned, and that show is 20 years old, where so many young gay men were dying.

There was a period where gay communities were so isolated as people were not exactly sure how the disease was transmitted, only that is was highly common amount gay men. So because they didn’t know how you catch it, just that gay men were getting it more, the gay community had to fend for themselves for a while in the 1980’s. Got slightly better when dictors worked out how it was transmitted, but still a stigma.

Queer as Folk had characters dying from AIDS, it had characters living with HIV, ‘what’s your status’ was a pretty common question in the show, especially between new couples.

Shows don’t really talk about stuff like that anymore.

But gay men still get HIV at a higher rate, between 60 and 70 percent of new cases, and people still die every year. The medication doesn’t work for everyone.

I have a friend, he hasn’t even come out to his parents yet, but just found out he has HIV at age 19.

Asking about your HIV status is a pretty common part of dating in the gay scene, but the media doesn’t really cover it since Queer as Folk.

I guess it doesn’t really suit the sexless, family friendly gay men that television show, mainly because they don’t want to upset their conservative network bosses.

I get HIV tests every year. I use condoms everytime, but I had a friend who used condoms all the time and for it anyway, just takes a couple of slip ups.

So Jack was living in London in the 1970’s, 1980’s, 1990’s and early 2000’s. Was he aware of what was going on during that time period before it happened? Had the AIDS crisis and it’s impact on the time period and young gay men been taught in the 51st century? I’m guessing probably not.

Was Jack always safe during that time period?

Or would his body just burn the virus off if he same into contact with it? Would Jack have been able to passpit on even if he csught it?

Was Jack always safe with men? I know he wasn’t always safe with women, he got a lady pregnant.

Dear Anon,

Jack can’t get sick so I imagine that means that bacteria/viruses can’t survive in his body at all. Because of that, I suspect he doesn’t use condoms very often, especially because we know he has had children.

From Anon,

PSA: The importance of safe sex.

https://youtu.be/HvPaE6_hPTQ

I like the show Queer as Folk.

It didn’t shy away from hard subjects.

Michael (Brian’s best friend) falls in love with a man with HIV, and the show focuses on the difficulty of dating asna HIV positive man. Ben told Micheal on their first date, and Micheal was spooked away, but ended up asking Ben on another date later as he really liked him. Ben is the dude he married and had a foster kid with, the professor. Things aren’t always easy between a couple where one person is HIV positive, and the show handled the subject brilliantly. Glad Micheal dumped the boring jealous Doctor and ended up with the professor.

But a big problem amoung young gay men Justin’s age is the assumption that the crisis is over and that HIV won’t happen to them.

Justin is 18 here in 2000, while Brian is 30. So Brian lived through the AIDS crisis as a young gay man, while Justin hasn’t experienced it in the same way.

Do you think Brian’s reaction to Justin wanted Brian to fuck him without a condom was a little harsh?

Seeing they have been dating for over a year and Brian was clean and so wouldn’t have given Justin anything.

Do you think he was absuive towards Justin here? By calling him an idiot?

Or do you think it is understandable that Brian would take the issue a little more seriously because of the 11 years more experience he has had watching gay men die?

Is that an excuse to talk to someone like this though?

I DO NOT like Brian either.

I can’t believe Justin didn’t get sick of him until he was nearly 25. Seven crazy years.

While not liking how Brian handled this, I do think it is important. I finished high school in 2016, and even today you don’t really get anything about safe sex amoung men. It was all about teen pregnancy at my school.

Dear Anon,

I never think it’s okay when couples call each other names like that. It was a very serious and important point that he had to make, but it could have been done without calling him that. A lot of people call their partners names sometimes though so I guess everyone is different.

From nololmaybe,

https://www.gaystarnews.com/article/queer-as-folks-russell-t-davies-penning-new-gay-drama-about-uk-aids-crisis/#gs.tJFW9f4

Russell T Davis has a new show coming up, not released until next year I think, early 2019.

Big fan of RTD. Anyone else keen for this project?

From Anon,

First new article ever on AIDS;

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/was-first-major-news-article-hivaids-180963913/

Doctors, researchers and newspapers didn’t even have a name for it at first. It was referred to as a ‘gay cancer.’

It was called the gay cancer, even by medical professionals, as at the time they had no other term for it. The symptoms presented a bit like cancer, and gay men were the ones mostly getting it, so that is how the gay cancer name came about.

A huge problem within the 80’s is that it wasn’t known how it was caught.

Straight people didn’t even want to shake the hands of gay men, because they weren’t sure how it was spread.

Doctors were scared and many refused to work with the patients.

And while this was happening, more and more young gay men were getting it, as they didn’t know it came from unprotected sex.

My mum was a nurse in the 1980’s, and they were overrun with AIDS patient, some they had to put on the floor as therw were not enough beds. but she was telling me that it was only her and one other nurse handling them all, as the other nurses were terrified of going near the men, as they didn’t want to catch it.

Lesbians played a HUGE part in supporting the gay men in their community at the time. Because so many people were terrifying of catching it, sick gay men often had no where to go. Lesbian groups opened shelters, prepared meals, and tended and nursed the dying men.

The support of gay women during that time isn’t often touched on, but it was there.

Have you ever seen the movie Philadelphia with Tom Hanks?

https://youtu.be/cl4B9AU45P4

Or Holding the Man?

My two favourite movies that deal with the HIV crisis.

From Anon,

https://www.google.com.au/amp/s/amp.theguardian.com/society/commentisfree/2016/apr/20/a-generation-of-artists-were-wiped-out-by-aids-and-we-barely-talk-about-it-robert-mapplethorpe

A generation of artists were wiped out by Aids and we barely talk about it

A new film about the photographer Robert Mapplethorpe is a shocking and brilliant reminder of the devastation HIV and Aids wreaked – and still does.

There are many shocking images in the brilliant new documentary Robert Mapplethorpe: Look at the Pictures, made by Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato. You probably know many of them already. Some are just seared into our culture and no longer disturb anyone. The cover of Horses with Patti Smith was as much of a statement as her music. His celebrity pics of Eurotrash and rich collectors, or actual celebs such as Debbie Harry and Bianca whispering in Mick Jagger’s ear remain fascinating. Their beauty blasted by his light into timelessness; his naked flowers, the sex organs of plants in all their glory. As he said himself, he could perfect a bowl of carnations just as well as “a fist up someone’s ass”. Then there was the documentation of his S&M activities and his fetishisation of the black body – so many of these images remain, to use the word du jour, “problematic”. Good. His life was an artwork. He would pick up guys, do drugs, have sex and then get down to work. He would photograph them.

When you see these pictures, you wonder why – with sexual imagery everywhere all the time – these pictures linger, hanging somewhere in a dark part of the collective memory. You keep looking because he kept seeing.

In this film, we have Mapplethorpe in his own words, not the rose-tinted memories that Smith gave us in Just Kids. He is openly a man of sociopathic ambition who wants sex, fame and money, and would use anyone to get them. That countercultural drive echoed what was going on in the 1980s so much that it would become indistinguishable from mainstream culture. When people talk about the end of the New York scene, that’s what they mean.

Just as he got what he wanted, he got sick. This “ruined Cupid”, this beautiful man, we see skeletal with Aids giving his final party.

“Whether it’s an orgy or a cocktail party I know how to do it.” He certainly did. It’s hard to see this vain man visibly dying. But he made his death part of his art. His 1988 self-portrait with a skull caneremains a masterpiece. I feel sorry for those who say photography is not an art. Bowie used his death in his final work too. No hiding away.

But what the film also brings home is the erasure of history – the fact that all those deaths from Aids have been somehow glossed over. Gay people can get married. Everything is lovely now!

Yet there was a time when you could walk around London or New York and see these gaunt faces, marked with sarcomas, and everyone you hung out with was dying. The official culture was in denial. Sometimes it was easier to be. I remember seeing Derek Jarman at a play. At that point he was blind. I didn’t want to see him like that. And then my friend was queer-bashed on the way home. Freddie Mercury died. Keith Haring died. Eazy- E from NWA died. Denholm Elliott died. Rock Hudson died. Fela Kuti died. And my uncle who wasn’t famous or even my actual uncle died. One of my friends lost seven people who were all under 30.

I was explaining this to my 25-year-old daughter. She understood what happened, but said, “I just can’t imagine it”. And somehow nor can I, but we lived through it. HIV, we say, is now no longer a death sentence. But, of course, it is in many parts of the world. South Africa has a 19% HIV rate. Russian is only just starting to admit the scale of its problem with an estimate of 1.5 million people with HIV. Neither homosexuality nor addiction can be spoken about in Putin’s Russia.

Mapplethorpe’s work was censored by US senator Jesse Helms who, like many Republicans, saw Aids as a punishment for homosexuality. Nancy and Ronald Reagan pretty much signed up to this line. Republicans banned needle exchanges. The Catholic church banned condoms. Mapplethorpe’s work is shot through the lens of his Catholic upbringing, the black mass and rituals of S&M – his composition, his invocation of the devil not as a metaphor, but as a living presence.

He was but one of a generation of artists, activists and athletes wiped out by Aids. Why don’t we speak about this anymore? Is it ancient history? Not for me, as it propelled a politics of queer solidarity arising from horrific circumstances.

The debate about safe spaces came to mind watching this film. Mapplethorpe’s entire oeuvre was a trigger warning. A bullwhip up his rectum, a penis lit like Mona Lisa. He died at 42.

When Paul O’Grady was asked in the Guardianabout the death of his friend Cilla Black, he said: “I’ve lost about everybody I know.” He talked about Aids wiping out all his friends, and about having to pretend to some of their families that they were dying of cancer as he nursed them. “People my age will never get over the horrors.”

Antiretrovirals may make us think it has all gone away. It hasn’t. Aids is killing people all over the world. The living death mask of Mapplethorpe disturbed me more than any pictures of fisting. Because I thought of all those we lost, and how we don’t really want to remember any more. Mapplethorpe’s unblinking need to document his life, his sex, his magic and his death reminded me why we must never forget. The battle is not won.

…..

https://www.google.com.au/amp/s/amp.theguardian.com/society/commentisfree/2016/apr/20/a-generation-of-artists-were-wiped-out-by-aids-and-we-barely-talk-about-it-robert-mapplethorpe

This article raises some good points. Sex between males is still the most common way to get HIV- it is easier to get from just one contact that other forms of sex, such as vaginal sex. So gay men are at a higher risk.

HIV amoung gay men is a huge problem in counties where being gay is illegal, including Russia and many countries in Africa- since sex between men is illegal and people still do it, education about safe sex is often not available and the resources and tests aren’t carried out like in the west, therefore allowing the secret spread between men at a much higher rate, as no one is keeping an eye on it.

My Uncle lost eight of his close friends, all young men and is boyfriend to AIDS within two years, before he himself passed away after battling with it for four years.

Even in 2017, when I came out as gay, my father was terrified. Not because of homophobia, but because he had watched his brother lose his partner, his friends and then had to watch his own brother die in front of him. My dad became a Doctor after losing his brother to AIDS and spent years and years working with HIV patients, seeing them lose friends and lovers to the disease for years and years. My dad in the year since I came out (I’m 17) has made sure to stress that the crisis isn’t over, he still sees young men coming in with the virus- often from very religious backgrounds, from chruch schools and home schooling who were denied any media about HIV and who aren’t taught about gay health issues. Families often shelter their kids away from this stuff, and it is still a problem. I have a crazy amount of condoms from my dad, and have had so, so, so many lectures about safe sex and about making sure my gay friends and boyfriends are safe as well. We talk about sex and safety SO much more than we did before I came out. I don’t think it is homophobia, my dad is just terrified of losing me like he did his brother. He also saw his brother because he died care for and mourn the loss of his boyfriend, and doesn’t want me to have to go through any of that pain.

Gay men are at more risk of HIV, and I don’t think it helps anyone to cover that up. Some people think it is homophobic to focus on gay youth and HIV, more than straight youth and HIV, but I don’t think it is homophobic, it is just scientific, we are most likely to come into contact with it, and are more likely to get it as it is transferred much easier though anal sex that other forms of sex.

Some people don’t like to mention gay and AIDS in the same sentence, as they don’t want to offend the gay community by associating us with HIV. But I don’t think it is offensive. So many gay men have died from the virus z and that impact on the queer community shouldn’t be washed away or forgotten because it doesn’t suit a polite 21st century conversation.

From Anon,

Michael Penn watched his loved ones drop like flies during the 1980s at a time when homophobia and misunderstanding were rife.

https://www.google.com.au/amp/s/www.independent.co.uk/life-style/love-sex/aids-crisis-1980-eighties-remember-gay-man-hiv-positive-funerals-partners-disease-michael-penn-a7511671.html%3famp

When Michael Penn’s partner Brian Davis began rapidly losing weight in the mid-1980s, a friend of the couple suggested he ought to visit a doctor to check he didn’t have that mysterious killer virus. It’s probably nothing, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, they thought. Five months later, Brian was dead.

Before Brian passed away, he and Michael’s calendar was filling up with more funerals than normal for two men in their late thirties. In the space of half a decade, 20 of Michael’s friends died.

“Back in the day it was very worrying. I had many friends dropping like flies,” Michael, a retired east Londoner who now lives in Woodbridge, Suffolk, recalls to The Independent. “My partner and I lost friends and no one knew why the so many people were dying.”

When doctors diagnosed Brian with AIDs, a test confirmed that Michael was also HIV positive. Now 75, and one of the longest surviving people in the UK with HIV, Michael is a spokesperson for the Terrence Higgins Trust charity to raise awareness about the condition.

But in the 1980s, the virus was little understood. Scientists were yet to pin-point why swathes of otherwise healthy people were dying from rare conditions. Misinformation and homophobia were rife. AIDs was labelled the “gay plague”, suggesting that it was spread among men who had sex with men (MSM). For a period of six months in 1982, the condition was mistakenly labelled “Gay Related Immune Deficiency”. In total, 35 million people have died of AIDs worldwide since the 1980s, including millions in Africa.

“One chap we knew very into taking poppers. He died of a lung infection and doctors said it was caused by his overuse of poppers. That was in the early 1980s.” In hindsight, the lung infection was likely triggered by AIDs, says Michael.

I watched him deteriorate from a big strapping lad to a skeleton. - Penn

Michael believes that his partner, who was the assistant director of the British Diabetic Association, his that he was ill because he feared he would die.

“Brian and I got a suspicious that he had something wrong but he was scared to do something about it. I think he knew it was going to be a death sentence. We didn’t talk about it.”

As HIV can take several years to show symptoms, Michael’s blood counts were normal, and he was apprehensive about taking AZT – the first drug created to tread the virus. But Michael was convinced during a visit to Washington State.

“I was on holiday in US and I saw a doctor in Washington State for a sore throat. I told him I was HIV positive but that I was confused about taking AZT. He told me ‘my wife had a blood transfusion tainted with HIV and she’s lying in a hospital bed dying with AIDs. Take full advantage of what you can get’.”

Looking back, Michael recalls how the LGBT community pulled together during what was a terrifying time.

“I think the gay community changed the way they behaved in terms of sleeping around and practising safe sex. The club scene in London was pretty wild. It was a brilliant time.“

But Michael found little empathy from those outside of the community.

“People were ignorant. There was nothing known about the disease. No one knew how to treat it. The ordinary man in the street was very suspicious if he knew you were gay.”

“I remember after Brian died I went to local pub and the publican in my hearing said to someone ‘don’t let anyone drink out of that glass’. I was furious.”

However, attitudes are still blinkered. More recently, a member of his local community was spreading a rumour that Michael had AIDS, rather than treatable HIV.

In fact, doctors recently told him he is healthier than most other men his age. To control the virus, Michael take two tablets a day. "As long as you get tested and get the right treatment you carry on living like I have,” he stresses. "HIV is no longer a death sentence.“

…

Often both people in the relationship would test positive and would get sick together, sometimes dying together in the spam in a couple of weeks, or sometimes years. The straight community were scared away and often their was not enough help, many couoles, both dying, often only had each other for support and help. I read a case about a man nursing his lover in his sickness, only to then die himself a month later.

Was Jack active with men during this period? He would have witnessed it first hand if he was.

From Anna,

Sally’s story about her Uncle had been break down in tears.

Thank you for sharing his story Sally, it is important to keep these stories alive.

I have a personal story of a good frien of mine, who was the god father of my three kids.

Researchers think that HIV and AIDs was probably around in the 60’s and 70’s, because the virus can lie in your body for years and years before killing you, you can have it for five years and not know. In the 1980’s, it was very common for couples to both have HIV, often with no idea who gave who what.

The first recorded AIDS victim died in 1981, but we think it had been around for a lot longer than that and that people were dying before than. It wasn’t until 1893 that AIDS was really on the radar.

If you’ve been together for years, even if you are faithful, one of you could have it before than and not even know it and pass it on.

Guilt was a massive thing, seeing the person you love dying in front of you and thinking you might have given it to them.

I had a very good friend who had HIV, who watched his long term partner die from it. My friend, Josh, after his boyfriend died, became obessed with finding out where it had come from, driven by guilt, he and Matt had been together for five years before Matt died, and had been faithful, so they were both shocked when they both tested positive.

Wanting to ignore his own HIV, and caught up in the grief and pain of losing the love of his life, tracing it became his obsession.

He eventually traced it back to an ex he had from seven years ago, before he was with Matt. His Ex had died in 1980, before the first official AIDS death. At the time it has been disgnosed as an unknown disease he picked up overseas, doctors looking back said it was almost certainly a early AIDS victum, although some have been found even eairler- deaths even in the late 1970’s from unknown illnesses. It didn’t break out into a extreme amount of bodies until the 1980’d though, it couldn’t be ignored anymore.

This ex had passed away, and Josh was sure he got it from this ex, as Matt had only had a couple of boyfriend before Josh and Matt had tracked down them all and they were fine.

Josh was horrified that he passed it to Matt, he was sure it must have happened that way. He became convinced he must have. And he hated that Matt died without knowing, he wanted Matt to know, to be able to blame Josh, he thought Matt should have known. Josh blamed himself.

He loved Matt so much and believed if Matt never met him he would have been fine. We all tried to help and comfort him, but the guilt was destroying him.

Josh killed himself. I don’t know how long he would have lived with the HIV, unlike Matt, it hadn’t turned into AIDS yet. He could still be alive today. I think about the ‘what ifs all the time.’ even after it has been so long.

But he couldn’t live with himself thinking he was the reason his partner died.

Losing Matt, and then seeing how much Josh missed him and how he blames himself was one of the worst years of my life, i remember calling Josh the morning he hanged himself and knowing something was wrong when he didn’t pick up. I thought I was being paranoid. His mum rang me that night to tell me. It was beyond awful, I felt like I had been hit with a truck..

As a mother with adult children, i never, ever want my kids to have to go through something like that.

I was so heartbroken for Josh. He and Matt got together in the early 80’s, before AIDS and HIV were the agrred upon term, before they knew who the disease was transferred. It wasn’t Josh’s fault, he and Matt has no idea. Seeing him carry that guilt of feeling like he killed the man he loved was what I remember most from that time.

Seeing Sally’s story about her Uncle made me cry for an hour, it just brought back so many memories.

They were both so young, just babies themselves.

I think it is postive to talk about it though.

I think you are much younger than me, I’m guessing you can’t remember muchnof the paranoia and crisis from the 1990’s? It was pretty bad.

That is where a lot of those horrible 'God Hates Fags’ people come from. I loathe them so much.

Sorry if I have overhshared, Sally’s story just really moved me.

Dear Anna,

I’m so sorry that you went through such a terrible loss :( I was born in 1990 and we were extremely isolated/sheltered as kids, so I had no idea that AIDS was such a huge problem. I’m still catching up on my history. Thank you so much for sharing your story <3

From W,

https://www.google.com.au/amp/s/www.hivplusmag.com/opinion/guest-voices/2014/02/19/listen-hiv-still-gay-disease%3famp

So this article says it is ‘nor politically correct.’

I always get worried when I see people proudly say they not politically correct, normally that line comes from racists.

I remember the outrage over the billboards mentuoned in this story, a LGTB+ group uni student campus group campaigned to have them taken down and they were.

Do you think this article is homophobic? They are kinda calling our the modern LGTB+ groups aren’t they?

Dear W,

I don’t think I would call this homophobic. I think it’s the kind of thing that could hurt feelings and it’s definitely a controversial topic, but I wouldn’t say it’s homophobic. The author wasn’t suggesting that being gay was bad in any way, but simply pointing out that HIV/AIDS is disproportionately found in the gay community and that pretending it’s not isn’t helping anyone. It’s definitely controversial and debatable (a debate that I definitely don’t know enough to participate in) and I’m sure it offended many people, but that’s not the same thing as being homophobic.

From Anon,

http://www.h2rc.org/news-and-events/2017/6/13/losing-a-father-and-husband-to-aids-and-finding-him-again

So in 1990 this woman’s husband died of AIDS.

She was in shock. How could that happen?

Turns out her husband had been gay and sleeping with men on the side.

She herself took a HIV test, but was negative (even when you sexually active with someone with HIV, while it is still very risky, the chances of catching HIV from vaginal sex are much, much lower than from anal sex.)

Extract from article;

‘My second child was born two days after Father’s Day in 1990. Three weeks later, my husband collapsed, disoriented and feverish, in a restaurant. Soon, he was lying in a hospital bed with full-blown AIDS.

It’s hard for people who weren’t around then to imagine what AIDS used to look like. It was an epidemic that turned young men old; murdered beauty and promise. You knew someone at work who wouldn’t feel well, you wouldn’t see him for a few days, you would never see him again.

AIDS made men ghosts.

Before he got sick, John was an attentive lover to me, a doting dad to our 2-year-old, a gracious son-in-law to my aging parents and a successful journalist. He was home for dinner every night like clockwork. He was someone it was hard to believe could get AIDS.

In the months before our son was born, John had been experiencing a string of nagging illnesses, including intestinal distress and a persistent cough. The many doctors he consulted, because he was “straight,” married and overworked, did not even consider AIDS. They diagnosed stress.

After John’s AIDS diagnosis, I was rushed in for my own test. It remains the scariest thing I’ve ever done. Back then, it could mean a death sentence.

I asked him how he happened to contract a disease largely transmitted through gay sex. He told me he’d slept with men, which, at the time, surprised me. It was the beginning of a world falling apart.

My AIDS test came back negative: The kids and I had been spared. But nine months later, John died, leaving me asking, “What just happened?”

He left me crying out for him in the night. He left me with many painfully unresolved feelings and unanswered questions. John also left me with two small children, and I was determined to raise them free from the stigma of AIDS.

I resolved that I had to keep how he died a secret. No one could know. We never talked about him. I stashed away all his pictures. When the kids were old enough, I shared the truth with them, and emphasized why they couldn’t talk about it — or their father.’

So she didn’t catch HIV from her gay husband (possible but vaginal transmission is no way neat as high) I bet other women did catch it from their husband’s on the downlow, as lots of men were still in the closest back then.

This would have hurt a lot of people, 1990 was still homophobic so I doubt this was the only guy who was married and sleeping with men on the side.

I think it would have been very scary for this woman. She just had a baby, so that means if she did have HIV, her baby could have it too, at a time where HIV was a death sentence for a lot of people. She didn’t have it though.

I bet other wives and children died from gay men being in the closest, I think that is where a lot of the anger came from, and when the babies and women started dying, that is when people acted.

Do you think men like John are more selfish than straight men who cheat on their wives? Because they risk killing them? This was in 1990! AIDS had been around for ten years at this point and people knew how it was transmitted.

I’m really sad this guy was closeted, but by 1990 they knew how HIV was transmitted right? His wife said they were still having sex!

This is more selfish than other cheating right? She was negative, but she and the baby could have been infected.

Dear Anon,

I think anyone who cheats is being selfish for putting their partners at risk. Yes, there was a crisis during that time that may have made it riskier for gay men to spread it, but that definitely does not mean that straight men men or women haven’t also always been at risk. Cheating is awful for a lot of reasons, but putting someone’s health at risk is probably the worst. Every cheater, gay or straight, regardless of the year or of what’s going around, is just as selfish as any other for willingly putting someone they’re supposed to love at that kind of risk..

#hello friend

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arplis · 4 years

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Arplis - News: Her Son Was Born With "Bubble Boy Disease" - Here’s How They Lived in Isolation For More Than a Year

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