Author: Dane Lowell
Submitted by: redadmin

Chapt. 305 - 1 972 words
Columns :: I'm not dead yet; Eye exam scheduled

Rome, Ga., USA, Sept. 30, 2010 -- Comments:   Ratings:
Average members rating (out of 10) : Not yet rated   
Votes: 0

I'm still very much alive
Good things on other fronts
My former English student from Moscow will come to Rome to visit me
Republican majority
Elaine and I



Rome, Georgia, Sept. 30, 2010 -- Stop the presses! I'm not dead! Neither is my dick! I jerked off Saturday night! I came!

Maybe that's no big deal for you, but for me it proves that, at the age of 77, despite my failed efforts last week, I'm still very much alive! I'm not a sexual zombie. My dick is still good for something besides draining my bladder!

Robert, Jeanette, and I had gone to see "Clue, A Musical" Saturday night, a Rome Little Theater community effort that would have been boring if a beautiful little 15- or 16-year old New Roman hadn't been sitting in front of me. He didn't know I existed, but that didn't keep me from waxing euphoric and slobbering over him from behind.

When we came home, Robert and I watched the Univ. of Florida 'gators beat the shit out of Kentucky 44-14. When I went to bed about 1:30, we were experiencing a thunder storm, the first in the more than three months that I've been here.

I woke up sometime during the night with a screaming hard on. I was very sleepy, but not too sleepy to reason that it shouldn't be wasted. But when I started beating off, it began to shrivel. I gave up again.

When I woke up sometime later, I again had a raging hard on. This time, I sat on the side of the bed and turned on the lights -- dim enough not to be glaring, but bright enough so that I could see my dick, which was getting bigger and more turgid as I jerked it.

And without the help of naked photos of Misha, or Sergei, or Katz, I got more and more turned on just by looking at my dick and feeling it engorge in the palm of my hand. As it grew more and more turgid, I felt myself edge past the magic click and laid back on the bed to feel the cum surge out of my swollen dick and over my stomach and pubes.

I soaked up enough with Kleenex to keep it from getting on the bed sheets, then went back to sleep amid the thunder and rain -- exhausted, satisfied, and very, very pleased with myself and my dick. Can you imagine how much easier it would be if I had some real inspiration -- like a hard, swollen, pretty young Russian piska in my mouth, as I have had so many times before?

This morning my blood pressure was 115/72 -- practically normal -- and I felt very smug, very happy, and much, much younger. J


Good things are happening on other fronts as well:

I called the VA early on Sept. 20, the day I was originally to fly back to Spain, and was told my first eye pre-op appointment wouldn't be until Dec. 15! That's 6 wks. after the Nov. 1 revised flight date I had just negotiated with United Airlines at a cost of $ 130!

When I protested, I was connected to a supervisor's number and left a message about my predicament and asked her to please call me ASAP.

No call.

So Monday afternoon, Robert took me to the VA office in Rome, where I was given the number of a veterans' advocate. The plan was to call the VA the following morning, and if no help came, as expected, I would call the advocate.

On Tuesday morning, I called the VA eye clinic again. This time, the supervisor was in, I was told, and the person I spoke with put me on hold a few minutes to talk with her.

When she came back on line, I had my first pre-op appointment on Sept. 29! Yay, it pays to bitch, even to -- maybe especially -- the VA. In fairness, the VA personnel I have come in contact with -- doctors, nurses, receptionists, and security guards -- all seem compassionate, attentive, and willing to help. My contact at the eye clinic and her supervisor seemed to be no exception.

I went for pre-op appointment yesterday. They repeated everything the Davidson Clinic here in Rome had done, plus some more tests. When they finished, and I talked to the doctor, I told her my predicament: I had already been here since June 15, trying to get eye operations; I have already delayed my flight back to Spain once, and I can't afford to have private doctors do it in Spain.

"Just a minute," she said. "I have to talk to the scheduler; I'll be right back. She came back with good and bad news. The bad news is that they will have time to operate on only one eye -- my left one, the one that I'm legally blind in. The good news is that my pre-op physical will be next Tuesday; my eye operation will be next Friday -- a week from tomorrow!

More good news. When I hadn't heard from Druzhka Monday morning, I e-mailed our mutual friend Pili and asked her to call my landlady Elvira and tell her that I had been delayed to Nov. 1, and to tell her that I would send her rent check if I could get her full name and Ourense address.

But I had an e-mail from Druzhka the next morning in which he said that he would pay my apartment and school rent until I arrive on Nov. 2. He had been in Moscow in connection with an exhibit which his former boyfriend's candy factory was involved with. So contact with Druzhka is re-established and everything is okay.

Update: Since Druzhka wrote this, he e-mailed me that he would be short of money and wouldn't be able to front my expenses. Unfortunately, there is no Bank of America branch in Rome. The nearest is in
Cartersville, about 25 mi. away on the road to Atlanta.

So on my way to the VA eye appointment yesterday, Robert and stopped at the Bank of America branch and sent $ 300 -- about 210 euros -- to my bank account in Ourense, where Druzka has a duplicate withdrawal card and can take the money out.

Still more good news! Since my new VA doctor, Dr. Williams, changed my heart pressure medication, my blood pressure has been dropping rather severely. It has consistly been under 100, and dropped at one point to 73/52.

I called and complained, and got an appointment with her nurse Kathy, who took my BP and conferred with the doctor, who cut in half my daily Lisinopril dose, from 10 mg/day to 5. In the week since then, my BP has risen steadily to near-normal.

Most importantly, I no longer feel constantly tired and dizzy, and my appetite is coming back. However, I discovered that there is an advantage to having no appetite. I've lost 7 lbs.!

However, now when I think of food, I don't want to throw up, as I did when I was experiencing low blood pressure, and I no longer feel faint and have to grab for support when I stand up.

More, more good news! "Sasha," (not his real name), in northern Ohio, my former English student from Moscow, has said he will come to Rome to visit me. I am so happy that I will see him again.

He is now 30 and more mature, but still very loving and dear to me. He speaks English very well after several years as a chemistry post-graduate student in the U.S. We have very close, almost family, ties. In fact, he is closer and dearer than most of my American friends -- and all of my family -- and I am very eager to see him again.

Some not so good news: The American electorate is in a foul mood, and seems set to restore the Republican majority in the House and/or Senate in elections this fall.

Unfortunately, Americans have a notoriously short memory. They've forgotten the lessons of the Viet Nam war, for instance, and they've already forgotten that it was George Bush, a Republican and the dumbest president in history, who got us into both the Iraqi and Afghan wars and who caused the economic meltdown from which they are now trying to extricate themselves.

Bill Clinton, the American president before Bush, gave some good advice to the Democrats last week:

He urged Democrats to start countering GOP claims with facts and statistics "demonstrating what President Barack Obama's administration has done to avert a more severe downturn and what Republican promises to roll back key legislation would mean for voters.

"I think the Democrats ought to stand up and say ... `You gave them (the Republicans) eight years to dig this hole, and to double the debt of the country, and not to produce any jobs, and then to have a financial collapse and all this calamity. At least give us four to dig out of it,'

"If we're wrong, throw us all out. But don't bring back the people that dug the hole."

Will the Democrats do this? Will it work?
We'll know Nov. 2, the day I arrive back in Spain. I'm guardedly hopeful.

Two weeks ago, I wrote my ex-wife, Elaine, to explore with her the possibility of my renting her lakeside Orlando, Fla., garage apartment for $ 500 a month. There are lots of advantages, the biggest of which is that I would not be subject to the whims of Ned's 7-year-old daughter, who was not entirely happy with the prospect of my living on the West Virginia farmette with her and her daddy.

It probably would have worked out, but I was -- am -- slightly uncomfortable with the prospect.

Elaine and I have a long history. We were married from 1965-1967. Although I dumped her unceremoniously -- I was, after all, gay -- she understood my motivation and has remained a good and dear friend throughout this time.

After our divorce, she married another nice guy who accommodatingly died of lung cancer in 1994, leaving her a beautiful house on one of Orlando's beautiful lakes with a garage apartment that she rents for extra income.

I would be near someone with a long history who truly cares for me, but who understands that there is no possibility of a sexual relationship. We like each other, know each other's families, and get along splendidly.

Some negatives: I can't be sure at this point that I am coming back to America to live, although I probably am. Mike Share, my gay teacher friend from Hong Kong and Macau, thinks I should give the boys in Asia -- probably Thailand -- a whirl before I hang up my jock strap.

However, I am now living solely on my social security income and have no spare cash -- not even a few thousand dollars -- for emergencies I might encounter in adjusting to Thailand, the Philippines, or wherever.

And once I am settled in America, I can invite some of my Russian friends -- like Maxim -- and lovers to come visit. It's a remote possibility, but still a possibility.

In any case, it's nice to have options.

I had an e-mail from Druzhka a couple of mornings ago asking if I thought I would "really" have to come back to America in February.

I replied that "I will have to go somewhere after 90 days to renew my visa," adding that "exactly where" we could talk about after I return. "It will depend on lots of things -- how successful my classes are, how I feel, your plans for the future, etc.

"I'm not committed to returning to the states," I continued -- and I'm not. "It's really rather boring, but health care here is free." In any case, I promised that we would "definitely" discuss the options.


See also related pages:
Chapt. #306 - A bad case of politics in the u.s.a.
Chapt. #304 - Still no eye opeeration; I'm bored in America


This day years ago:
2003-10-1: Chapt. #6 - Desperately Seeking Blond Boys
2003-10-1: Chapt. #7 - Solving Problems in the Russian Embassy
2003-10-1: Chapt. #8 - One man’s meat – the Misha problem
2003-10-1: Chapt. #9 - Some English Without Which We Could Do