Sunglasses

Jesus you fucking prick do you get the point here? He wants the glasses, they are going to pay for them, it’s nothing to do with you. Jesus.

Daithi, maybe you’d like to take a few minutes and calm down? Outside.

I looked around the table, 12 or 13 stony faces stared back at me. White coats, white uniforms, some suits and then me, 22 years old and wearing jeans. Okay I’ve always had problems with authority and in particular Doctors. I mean how the hell are they supposed to become normal human beings? They study each evening from the time they go home from school to the day they leave secondary schools just to get the 9 A1s they need to get to college and then in college they have to study all the hours God sends and then in the hospitals they make them work 90 hours a week until they graduate. and people say their bedside manner has deteriorated! Mother of Gods they have the emotional development of an 11 year old so what do you expect?

I held my breath in my mouth. Fuming. Wanting to lash out. Desperately getting control of myself, focusing on a point against the wall. I stood up and slowly put one foot in front of each other until I reached the door. I didn’t look back at all.

I stood outside,heart pounding in my chest, breath shallow. All around me people went on with their busy work. Fuck I’m in trouble now. The door opened, it was Irene, the head Social Worker. She pulled out a packet of fags and nodded outside. We walked and nothing was said. My heart beat faster, I could feel bile rising in the back of my mouth.

Listen you are right, but the way you are going about it is going to get everyone’s backs up, I’m going to be called in to see the Head Consultant now. I’ll smooth it but in the meantime I want you to apologise and while it’s nice to see you getting so passionate you need to calm down and channel it better.
Now go sort out those glasses.

The relief flooded over me, I almost tripped over I ran so fast back to the office. I picked up the phone and rang the Body Positive number
hi Sean? Daithi here from James’ Hospital? yeh let’s go with the raybans, can we get them today, not sure if he’s going to last many more days... cool, I’ll meet you in town.

I’ve never been shopping for Raybans with a gay fella before, its quite a buzz, and of course I was paranoid that all the shop assistants would think we were a couple, and of course they did! but it was a laugh and over a few hours and many shops Sean told me about how he became HIV positive and how he hooked up with the support agency he now worked for, and lurid tales of Catholic bishops in massage parlours and saunas. Of hte priest who collapsed in a notorious ‘gym’ and another priest gave him the last rites before legging it! We did lunch, drank coffee and made friends and discussed Daniel O’ Donnell’s sexual orientation. I laughed so hard latte exited my nose.

Heading back on the bus and staring into the Dublin drizzle I couldn't help feeling that maybe I’d pitched myself in too deep here, I was only a student after all, 22 years old and working in the GUM clinic of St James Hospital. Sadly this has nothing to do with mouths and everything to do with Genito- Urinary Medicine. The clap clinic, ladies and gentlemen. And really I wasn’t handling it oh so well. My head was being blown apart by what I was hearing from people about their lives, their sexual behaviour and the impending death of some of my clients, add to that my pathological fear of hospitals and my complete and utter phobia of hypodermic needles and really my natural arrogance and over confidence had pitched me in the shit again. At least Irene was on my side maybe I’d get out of this with a decent mark after all, maybe one day I would really graduate. Maybe. An maybe I was way way out of my depth, but today wasn’t about me, today I had something important to do, a dying wish to fulfill.

Colin was sitting up in bed, he looked so pale, the karposa’s syndrome covered most of his face with a glaring red rash so he had one fragile hand placed protectively in fornt of his proud face. Vane to the last, fair play to him. His long black hair still shone and his eyes lit up.
Good news?
Good news.
The Scooter?
Not the Scooter.
The Sunglasses?
I grinned as I revealed the raybans from behind my back, he screamed in delight, and threw his arms around me, I could feel his bones beneath his silk pyjamas, I could feel his heart pounding. He felt so fragile, so weak, it reminded me of other people I had known who had died, of my cousin Wendy who died when we were ten, who wasted away with cancer and how we used to push her around in a kiddies buggy near the end. She didn’t take any shit though. Right up until the end she took no shit. He let me go and swung his legs over the side of the bed, I took his forearn and led him onto the floor, stopping only to put on his slippers. He took the glasses reverently and slid them on. A perfect fit.
How do I look?
a million dollars Col, a million dollars.
The whole ward had stopped and were looking.He spoke clear and loud.
Well how do i look?
A big nurse was smiling.
You look great ya eejit.
I could hear people murmuring in agreement.
A mirror, a mirror, get me a mirror.
He hadn’t looked in a mirror for quite some time now.
Oh I look fabulous, thank you, thank you, thank you.
I hugged him again and said I’d see him later. I never did. When I came back on Monday he was dead. As per his last will they buried him in his raybans.