I am reminded


I am reminded of December 6, 1989 at Montreal’s Ecole Polytechnique.

I am reminded of February 5, 1981 – Toronto’s bath house raids, the catalyst for my coming out.

I am reminded of stolen innocence as a child at the hands of a stranger.

I am reminded of the “flu” I couldn’t shake in May of 1989 when HIV was settling in.

I am reminded of the impact of a taxi cab as it rolled me on to the street on April 30, 2003.

I am reminded of a street preacher verbally assaulting me following the opening ceremonies of World Pride 2014.

I am reminded of AIDS vigils when I was incoherent with grief as I thought of the scores of people I knew who have died.

I am reminded of my connection to the human family and, in the context of the Orlando massacre, my LGBT family and friends in particular.

Medical update: It’s all good


While showing me a graph, with the trajectory of my health over the past few months, my endocrinologist  remarked, “I wouldn’t have sold you life insurance in January!”

Point taken.  It was a rough patch, to be sure.

But now…

CD-4 count: 400 (the same level as when I was first diagnosed HIV+); up from 270

Viral load: undetectable (no change)

A1C (blood sugar): 8 (above the ideal 7 but greatly improved from my insulin overdose episode)

Weight: up (I can’t remember either the former or current weight)

 

I’m still feeling a little wobbly on my legs so I’m using a cane, more often than not, and I have a walker to take with me to the grocery store for heavy loads.

All in all, I am shaping up nicely for spring!

Out for 35 years


Reading something which noted that 1981 was 35 years ago jarred me into realizing that it was three-and-a-half decades ago this very month that I officially came out of the closet, by which I mean letting my family know that I was gay.

It was in the context of the uproar over the bathhouse raids by Toronto police in which, but for luck, I was not involved.

This weekend’s cold temperatures remind me of the cold nights spent protesting the raids, a fear of being seen on the TV news which propelled me to pen a letter of coming out to my Mom and Dad.

It was met with a phone call from Mom in which she assured me of their unconditional love for me (after I had imagined worst case scenarios of a different kind for no reason).

35 years!  I was a fresh-skinned 21-year old then on the eve of the first cases of AIDS being reported in the United States.  I managed to escape the first waves of death which swept through the community and now count myself among ‘long-term survivors’.  AIDS still seems very real to me but I no longer take for granted that I will die prematurely.  I’m trying to accept that there are some things I just don’t know.

There have been other things which could have, and could yet, kill me but, for now, I am trying to re-experience the energy I recall from those powerful days of protest in 1981.

Walking the walk – with assistance


First there was the pre-Christmas illness. Then, while in Perth, I went for only one walk – to the pharmacy – in a town which normally calls out for long walks.  I even felt unsteady on my feet roaming around Mom’s big old house.

Mom, who has been using a walker  herself for a year or so, suggested I check into getting myself a walker once I returned home.

I did.  Yesterday. A walker from my community’s storage was made available to me.  I took to it like the proverbial duck to water, although I’m a tad tall for it.  I went out for some milk and bread, pushing/being pulled by my new friend, then walking the long way home to put some miles on it.

Last night, oblivious to what barriers I might encounter, I went to a meeting via the subway, folding and carrying the walker where necessary, happily taking the offered subway seat, then walking the several blocks from St. Clair station.

I am easing into it.  There are walks which I can easily do without help, so it may surprise people when on other occasions I present with the walker.

It helps me walk.  It gives me confidence.  Why would I worry about what anyone thinks about me using it.

Chasing the HI on a glucose meter


I spent the afternoon yesterday in the Emergency Department of Toronto’s Mount Sinai Hospital after a drug overdose, albeit accidental, when I tried to eliminate a “HI” reading on my glucose meter with two, then three times the recommended dosage of my insulin.  It was lost on me that doubling and tripling up on a time release insulin formula was plunging it well beyond my control, rather than naively reining it in.

“Stop chasing the ‘HI,” quipped the ER doc after an uncomfortable stay, clearing me out with an IV, a cookie and some orange juice.

Indeed.

Thank you to staff of my housing co-op for providing me with a ride to, and a taxi from, Mount Sinai and to Ryan for staying with me pre-treatment.

Honours from ACT


It was both an honour and a pleasure this past Monday to receive an award for 25 years of service at the AIDS Committee of Toronto’s Annual General Meeting.  I must confess to feeling like I have drawn on more services than I have provided but the 25 years is amazing, even from a survival point of view!  Here I am with ACT E.D. John Maxwell:

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May 9, 2007


The assignment for this week (Sept. 28, 2015) at the Mount Sinai Narrative Writing Group was “Write a story about a decision you have observed or experienced.”

 

May 9, 2007

The indicators of Craig’s brain activity were not at all promising more than two weeks after his fall.  He continued to feel no pain, judging by the lack of any discomfort or restlessness being shown.  The time had come to try and remove his breathing tube, come what may.

‘Times Have Changed’ at 40 Wellesley St.E. #HIVnow


40 Wellesley St. E.
40 Wellesley St. E.

The latest ambitious awareness campaign by the AIDS Committee of Toronto (ACT), #HIVnow, “asks big questions, puts forward honest answers and issues clear calls to action”.

The “Times have changed” theme comes to mind as I watch the slow demolition of 40 Wellesley Street East, a medical offices building where I learned of my HIV status in 1989 and received medical care there for several years. Hundreds – thousands even – of HIV/AIDS patients were seen in these offices at the height of the crisis in the early 1990s.

If those demolished walls could talk…

Guess what’s next for 40 Wellesley.

Leaving Unit 503 upright


I am surrounded by boxes, both packed and empty. This week I am changing units within my housing co-op, moving house for the first time since 1992.

When I re-located to this building 23 years ago I thought, with good reason, that my death was imminent; that I would be here a short time before being discreetly carried out, feet-first, in a black bag – as had been the case for several other friends with AIDS before and since.

Diane Frankling Co-operative Homes, formerly Bleecker Street Co-op, has historically given priority for its rent-geared-to-income units to people living with HIV/AIDS, persons with mental illness (I am, therefore, dually qualified) and women escaping abusive relationships.

Just one floor up and across the hall, dominant morning sun will be replaced by the afternoon’s; plants will need to be re-positioned accordingly. Rather than a view of Cabbagetown roof-tops I will look on to another apartment building and, to my left, a partial but exciting view of Toronto’s impressive skyline.

While I have purged a lot of stuff, and packed quite a bit more, the move just one floor up has me in a sense of suspended animation. Clothes remain on hangers because, well, they can be carried upstairs just like that. It’s the same with my plants.

What I can only pack figuratively are 23 years of memories from here – the early house parties, the cats which I have loved (Sujata is only beginning to suspect we’re up to something), the recovery from my 2003 crash (John Kerry, I so relate to your broken femur!), and the guests and uninvited who have plopped down on the dump-bound sofa.

The weight of these years is affecting me emotionally, positively and poignantly, but it is a marker of the new era of HIV/AIDS that I am leaving Unit 503 walking upright.

Re: How a change of heart led to a backlash from the ‘Church of Nasty’


How a change of heart led to a backlash from the church of nasty

Dear Mr.Coren,

I have been a follower, if not always an admirer, for many years.

Your change of heart, more quantifiable with each successive column I read from or about you, has touched me a great deal.

Suffice to say I weathered some of your former comments, written or on CTS, no worse for wear but, so convincing were you, I find I need to pinch myself to take in how you have changed.

I am by no means a model gay citizen. A recovering alcoholic, HIV-positive for 26 years, and a gay rights activist since 1981, my journey seemed to be at right angles to yours. I don’t know that I have ever scorned you in public but, to the extent that I have resented you, I apologize. I nevertheless admired the strength with which you held your convictions.

Please work on Dr. McVety😉

All the best,

Kenn Chaplin
Toronto

Keeping Kenn Zeller’s name alive


In a crowded classroom at OISE a couple  of weeks ago I listened politely as a woman told how she had been influenced so positively by a Toronto school librarian years before.

“I was going through a rough time – abuse and all kinds of shit at home,” she said.

“He spent a lot of time with me and I always felt better better after our talks.”

“Then he was murdered in High Park and my world crashed.”

Suddenly very alert, my mind raced back to a murder that had touched me deeply in June of 1985; my God thirty years ago?

A forty-year-old school librarian had left an end-of-year staff party and driven into High Park to see if he might find some opportunities for anonymous sex. Instead he found five drunken teenaged boys, ranging in age from 15 to 18, also celebrating the end of school, who had been heard earlier declaring they were headed to High Park to “beat up a faggot”. As Kenn Zeller walked past the youths, one of them stuck out a foot and tripped him . He managed to get up and run the 10 metres or so to his car but, after getting the door open, he didn’t make it inside. In the minutes of kicking and beating him around the head which followed, his increasingly lifeless form was left for dead. His car was then vandalized.

The five each pleaded guilty to manslaughter and were sentenced to nine years in prison.

“That was Kenn Zeller,” I said to the woman nodding. “I adopted the spelling of “Kenn” as a memorial to him. I don’t get the opportunity to tell the story behind it as much as I might like sometimes.”

His death was a catalyst for the Toronto District School Board implementing a program aimed at eliminating discrimination based on sexual orientation, and a foreshadowing of the board’s Triangle Program for LGBTQI youth.

United Church of Canada Moderator to receive Craig Chaplin Memorial Award


Three Colleges – The United Theological College, The Montreal Diocesan Theological College and The Presbyterian College, Montreal – are gathering May 7 to celebrate their respective Convocations and 100 years together as the Montreal School of Theology.

The Right Reverend Dr. Gary Paterson, Moderator of the United Church of Canada, will be an honoured guest of United Theological College as recipient of the Craig Chaplin Memorial Award, named for my brother who died in May, 2007.

Craig’s loved ones marvel that his Award, to honour the achievements, projects and ministries of openly LGBTQI persons, will be going to the spiritual leader of the Church less than a generation after the historic approval of LGBT ordination in the United Church of Canada. How thrilled Craig would be!

In a letter to UTC Principal Philip Joudrey, confirming the terms of reference for the Award, Craig wrote:

“…it is my intention and desire that this award be presented in recognition of the particular ministries of (LGBT) people both within the formal, organized structures of the Christian Church and without…choosing to honour those whose life’s work has been particularly distinguished in its clear embodiment of such central Gospel values as personal courage and integrity, life-affirming faith and spirituality, an unswerving commitment to social justice and a sustainable environment, and solidarity with those who are poor or marginalized.”

Additional Convocation honours will be bestowed by the other participating colleges and the Convocation Address will be delivered by renowned United Church of Canada theologian Douglas Hall.

To be held at the Church of St. Andrew and St. Paul, on the edge of the McGill University neighbourhood, this will be the first joint Convocation of the three Colleges – and marking 100 years of The Montreal School of Theology is an occasion for a grand celebration!

World AIDS Day 2014 has come and gone and something had me rattled


Here’s an excerpt from my Facebook feed today after I heard Shaun Proulx on CBC Radio’s Metro Morning referring to his blog on HIV Divorce.

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I have AIDS, and have had for many years. I can’t seem to walk that back, to HIV only, so I think of myself as surviving HIV/AIDS. While HIV may never lead to AIDS for some, for other old timers like me that genie seems out of the bottle. I’m rattled by Shaun Proulx’s call for a “divorce” between HIV and AIDS because they are linked and to leave AIDS apart feels further stigmatizing.

Vera Ingrid Tarman, Clare Nobbs, Marie Robertson and 12 others like this.

Lori Knight-Whitehouse See my comment in one of your later posts.

Kenneth G. Chaplin Saw it – and thanks!

Sandra Millar In my opinion, those of you who have been long-term survivors should be “revered” (is that the word?) because you have been through hell to keep going. What with changes of meds that cause your body untold havock and struggles to keep going, with every day a hardship, medically, emotionally and financially! The younger generation who are walking on your back, and others like you need to spend a day with you, to be even begin to have an opinion! And this from a friend and ally, who knows she has only scratched the surface of what this terrible disease does to this living with, and those affected by, who journey with friends whose struggle still ended in death and those friends I know struggle every day…with all the above and more, including some with survivors guilt. I rest my case, for today…but wish I was able to put this on everyone’s post. I KNOW that if I had to walk a mile in your shoes, I would not be so strong or resilient! My thanks for being you – to you and all the others I know…and have known, as just because they died didn’t make them any less in my eyes! hugs, Sandra Millar

Karen MacKay Llewellyn Wanting to affirm the remarks made by Sandra. You have walked the walk with such courage, Kenn. It has been and continues to be so challenging. You have taught us all so much by permitting us to accompany you on this journey. I am ever so grateful to have been invited to share in the struggle and the triumphs. Blessings, my friend!

Tammy Leslie hey buddy xxxxxxx

Kenneth G. Chaplin Such a gratifying feeling to read your support, Sandra Millar and Karen MacKay Llewellyn. Overwhelming!

Paul R. Gilroy Tx Kenn, I am glad to have the opinion of someone (yours) who knows and has experienced the full dimension of HIV / Aids and its impact. I had the same thought that the two are inseparable listening to Sean on the CBC this morning, it seems to me to be wrong to consider that HIV and Aids can be so casually divorced.

Clare Nobbs I heard the interview on MM this morning and was uncomfortable with what SP was saying. Didn’t seem right. It was an argument of privilege to me – and one that was filled with holes. Oftentimes, I think, such arguments come from internalized struggle. And that is not a good place to speak from as it is using the oppressor’s tools against one’s own/self. I can’t say I’ve delved into this too deeply, but I can say that I have the deepest – and fondest – respect for you, Kenn, and the road that have walked these many years I have known you. love, peace and respect to you.

Kenneth G. Chaplin Oh, so many hugs for and from Paul R. Gilroy and Clare Nobbs. Thank you. I have to remember that health outlooks are much different to today’s newly diagnosed by which I mean post-drug cocktail and the simpler treatments nowadays. Privilege, Clare, yes that rings true.