Pigs are More Dangerous Than Sex
Pigs are more dangerous than gay sex. I know because I have been injured by both. I want to emphasize the fact that these injuries were in two separate events; I did not injure myself having sex with a pig, nor have I ever attempted to have sex with a pig. 
Thirty years ago, while still married to my wife and with two small children, we lived on a “gentleman’s farm” in Maine where we were first introduced to the idea of sustainable living. I decided that we should attempt to raise pigs for our own pork, so I bought two little piglets, “Sweet” and “Sour.”
One of the problems with a small farm is the tendency to want everything to have babies. Perhaps it’s because the babies are so damn cute, but it probably also has something to do with the guilt of how their lives end on our tables. “Sour” was our first home produced meat, which left “Sweet” to become the mother of our new piglet family.
About four weeks after they were born, I picked one of the little piglets up. It began to squeal as if I were castrating it with my teeth. “Sweet” was until that moment a pig that was so gentle our children, ages 2 and 5, could ride her. She came after me with aggression I have never seen, let alone experienced. I ran for the wooden fence, cart-wheeled over it and when I came back to my feet felt excruciating pain in my right shoulder the likes of which I’d never felt before.
I knew that my shoulder was dislocated, so I banged my elbow on the fence until it popped back into place, relieving the worst of the pain. I had it examined and X-rayed and there were no visible injures — that is, until now. Now, the orthopedist tells me I need a shoulder replacement.
That’s a much bigger deal than having a torn meniscus in my right knee, which occurred while having sex. I know what you’re probably thinking but the sex was pretty conventional, not bad sex, but it was certainly nothing to blog about.
Easy to reach most anything
Tomorrow morning I go in for my “joint replacement class” to which I was asked to bring “a companion.” (Now I appreciate my husband even more than before, but he’s very nervous about the “personal hygiene” tasks.)
I have previously written about the need for medical companions. Medical companions allow older people to have more confidence in their doctors, feel better about the information they receive and have a better relationship with their doctor. In other words, they receive better health care.
In my previous research on mature gay men, I found that those perceiving their health to be a major life stress increased from 28% in the 6th decade to 50% into their 8th decade. Although half of the survey respondents saw their health as very good to excellent, all of those careless injuries sustained in our youth didn’t bother much then, but the later, accumulative consequences are often what causes older people to begin to feel old. Ibuprofen becomes Vitamin I.
The number of people surveyed who admitted to being in fair to poor health increased with age from 11% in the sixth decade to 38% for those past 80 years old, which isn’t too bad for a bunch of very mature gay men. In my survey, 50-60% of gay men between the ages of 60 and 79 years of age live alone, although unexpectedly, this percentage decreased with increasing age.
So here is the dilemma: Medical care improves when you have a companion but over half of gay men between 60 and 79 years of age live alone. This is a serious challenge for our LGBT community and points out the necessity for each of us to develop a a good support system and a family of choice when there is no family of origin available.
I feel blessed to have a husband to be my medical companion and care for me. Friends have offered to drive me around – although no one has yet offered to take care of my most personal hygiene — and several internet friends have agreed to write guest posts for this blog during my rehabilitation period. Sadly, not everyone is so fortunate.
As a practicing RN I appreciate the issues you address in this article. So much of the patient advocacy that I do is on behalf of people who have no partner or family to speak of.
We would all be wise to have conversations with family and friends about caregiving needs while we are well as it is much easier to have those then. Fortunately, I have a loving husband and a pact with my nursing friends to be sure that all my needs are attended to. In the meantime my profession will do what it can for others one patient at a time.
[...] previously written about the dangers of pigs, during a period of rehabilitation from my shoulder surgery, several of my on line friends have [...]
[...] suffered the consequences of a dangerous pig, I am now recovering from my shoulder surgery, and several of my on line friends have agreed to [...]
[...] suffered the consequences of a dangerous pig, I am now recovering from my shoulder surgery, and several of my on line friends have agreed to [...]