ADRIENNE'S HIV BLOG – Hivine's Weblog

HIVINE is written by HIV positive women but still with a sense of humour

It’s Raining Pens!

Don’t know why but whilst I was sat in the hospital waiting to have my bloods done to find out what was going on with my kidneys, I started thinking about quills. Thank God we don’t have to use quills anymore I thought to myself.

At least I hope I thought it to myself as I’m a bit prone to speaking my random thoughts (and they are quite random) out loud these days, which I believe is an age or even (heaven forefend) an HIV related condition, although I’m not that old that I ever had recourse to use a quill or, thank God, pluck a chicken!

However, I can remember ink wells in school desks, stained fingers and spare nibs – a thing you stuck on the end of your pen, not something you ordered from the Chinese. That was before fountain pens came along with the little lever to suck up the ink and if you were very good Santa might include a Parker (the be all and end all of fountain pens) in your Christmas stocking.

Good job I wasn’t muttering the words stockings, stained fingers and sucking things up out loud, or worse plucking, especially in the GUM clinic waiting room.

Fancy having to write your diary the erstwhile blog of yore with a freshly plucked feather. How primitive writing with a feather or even a fountain pen sounds now, especially with regard to computers. I suppose younger readers might not even know what I’m talking about. Imagine what Shakespeare could have done with a computer, although spell check would have been correcting him all the time with his thines dosts doeths and werts – although I don’t think he had werts, unless he kept them hidden under his pointy beard.

Instead of writing, “Hang him with his pen and his ink horn about his neck,” he would have to write instead, “Hang him with his pen stick and his eye pad round his neck.”

“The critic is an overgoer with pen-envy.”

I’m not sure who wrote that but it sounds like Freud.

“The moving finger (mouse) writes and having writ moves on.” Omar Khayyam.

Poor Omar obviously didn’t even have a feather let alone a nib because he had to use his finger.

These days you can’t really call someone ‘his nibs’ anymore, slang word for a posh person. According to Wikipedia (and where would we be without it) there is some evidence that ‘nibs is a variant form of ‘nabs‘, and that both may have their origin in the ancient word neb, meaning a beak or nose, or more generally, the protruding bit of anything.


Also, nib itself was once used as a slang term for a gentleman, as was another old slang word still to be heard, nob.

Don’t suppose you could mention his nob either – at least not in polite company.

Anyway, some medicinal facts. Apparently, the tenovir in Truvada can make the kidneys leak phosphorous. High phosphate will eventually leave the bones weak since the body steals the phosphate it needs from the bone.

So that’s what’s happening with my elbow, it’s not tennis elbow at all, it’s robbery.

Change of meds now definitely on the cards. Off we go again. That’s all my life is these days, meds, meds, meds. But there again, where would we be without them? Maybe the title of this blog should have been it’s raining meds. Oh, how different my life would have been without HIV and what might have been – deep sigh.

However, its no good thinking like that. According to another great scribe (don’t know if he was a feather plucker like Bill)

Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these; it might have been.

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