You can only imagine how hard it is to be told "You have AIDS". I don't think you'll know how you would react just until it happens to you. I myself couldn't imagine it... at least until it happened. Well, sort of. I wasn't told that I had AIDS, just that I had HIV. I don’t know if that's a big diff, though.
But okay, that’s settled. It is hard to be on the receiving end of a positive result. But how hard is it to tell someone he or she’s got AIDS? Is it easier? Is it harder? Hmmm.
Personally, I’d rather be on the receiving end of tragic news. I just don’t think I’m nurturing or sane enough to handle someone else’s depression, drama, regret, fury, fear, paranoia, and whatever else they may have. Not on a regular basis at least.
So I applaud the people who get to do the loathsome job of telling someone, “Hey, you’ve got AIDS!”
Only heaven knows if there’s any particularly good or effective way to break that kind of news. But I got one idea from The Family Guy animated series to do it. Take a look.
Dr. Hartman: I don't know how to tell you this, Mr. Devanney, so I'll let these guys do it.
Enter, Peter Griffin and the Barbershop Quartet
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
You have AIDS! (Yes, you have AIDS)
I hate to tell you, boy
that you have AIDS! (You got the AIDS)
You may have caught it
When you stuck that filthy needle in here
Or maybe all that unprotected sex put you here
It isn't clear...
But what we're certain of is...
You have AIDS! (Yes, you have AIDS)
Not HIV, but full-blown AIDS!
Be sure that you see...
That this is not HIV
But full-blown AIDS!
Not HIV, but really...
full-blown AIDS!
I'm sorry, I wish it was something less serious
But it's AIDS
You've got the AIDS!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, fine, so maybe that wasn’t the best idea. But you gotta admit, it would’ve been one hell of a show! But for now, when it comes to telling someone he’s got AIDS... I’ll just leave that to the experts.
Post-Script:
On a more serious note, of course, these days, AIDS and HIV aren't that much different. Not everyone who's been put under the AIDS list is on his or her deathbed. They can always recover and do better than the HIV-and-not-AIDS ones, and sometimes be even healthier than people who don't even have HIV! Yep, life can go on... for everyone! :-)
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
You’ve Got AIDS!
Friday, February 13, 2009
A Day of O's
I had been anticipating another huge Thursday since weeks ago, it was to be my follow-up CD4 count, my first after being on ARVs for the past six months. This would tell for certain whether or not my ARVs are working. This would determine whether I was taking proper care of myself and doing the right things to keep my health up. This was to be a make or break thing.
Let me introduce a new addition to my alphabet friends, O. The one thing that stuck with me about O was the fact that on a number of occasions, people have actually mistaken each of us for the other. O and I had bumped into each other a number of times before at the RITM, but never really got to talk much. I guess we were the same type, preferring to stick with the people we already knew. But due to some extremely unusual circumstances, and with U’s help, who knew us both, we finally made contact via text messaging. It was natural for the three of us to gravitate towards one another because of the proximities of where we lived.
O and I met a couple of times after that and gotten the chance to talk, discovering we’d actually met in a group of common friends many, many years ago. Of course, we chatted about family, work, our HIV journeys, and everything else under the sun. And we also found out that we were both scheduled for a CD4 count this month, and just happened to set it on the same date, so we agreed to go together.
We had met out on EDSA at 7:00 am, thinking it would give us enough time to get to the RITM before 9:00, the time that Ate told us to be there for blood extraction in time for the running of the CD4 batch. But like a really bad joke, we seemed to have been sucked into all the possible traffic there was, so much so that we had to be constantly reassuring Ate via text that we were indeed on our way, practically begging for her to wait for us before the batch of samples was run.
And sure enough, after about three hours on the road spent chitchatting, joking around, yawning and stressing out a bit, O and I finally reached the RITM just a couple of minutes before 10:00 am, the ultimate final leeway that Ate had given us.
After several vials of blood each and with that mission behind us, O and I both decided not to report for our respective jobs for the rest of the day, not that I really could because I was just wearing a shirt and a pair of shorts. We just agreed to wait for the results to be released at around 3:00 pm. I was really the one more excited to wait, this being my first CD4 count since starting ARVs.
So some brunch, a bit of hanging around, a med refill and even a movie session at Festival Mall later, it was time for the verdict. We trekked back to Ate, and waited anxiously. Finally the call came in. The lab wasn’t ready to release the hard copies, so they just dictated the result to Ate over the phone. O and I both tried desperately to read her reaction, and figured that at least one of us had done well, as something caused Ate to mouth out a smiling Oh! as she wrote on her little paper.
Putting the phone down, she teased us a bit with a beaming Hmm!, refusing to read the results out. She handed us the piece of paper, as I heard a drum roll in my head. This is it. This is really is it.
On the piece of paper, next to our initials, were our respective CD4 counts. The good news was that O’s count went up 57 points, and that was absolutely exciting. And mine? From my first CD4 count of 343 back in San Lazaro Hospital in May 2008, to my first at the RITM in August 2008 of 328, my present CD4 count was... JANJARARAAAAN... 484! O as in OMG! Up 156 points! Woohoo!
My worry was suddenly replaced by a whole onslaught of emotions. I wanted to jump, wanted to cry, wanted to pump my fists in the air… of course I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, and honestly I felt faint… but it was all good. I just had to sit down and take it all in.
What did this all ultimately mean for me? I could and should stick to what I’ve been doing the past six months.
Taking medicines religiously? Check.
Eating right? Check.
Sleeping early? Yawn. Check.
Working my ass off? Check.
Advocacy? A definite check.
Keeping sane? Check.
Blogging? Check.
Keeping tabs on HIV documentaries? Check.
Harassing stupid people who discriminate against HIV? A feisty check.
Caring for Baby Nathan, his family and others like them? A bouncing baby check.
Keeping my sexlife barely alive? Whew. Check.
Being content with singlehood? Ngargh... but check.
Staying alive, positive and happy? Check, check and one big CHECK.
I guess one change that this result might trigger is that it’s a big leap towards my telling someone in the family. Aside from disclosing that I have HIV, I really wanted to be able to say for sure that I’m stable, taking care of myself and doing well on the medication. And now that I can, it should make things easier for people to understand and not be too shocked at the situation. Anyways, that’ll be a whole different episode.
After a bit of celebration over dinner to cap the night off and calm ourselves down, I was left with a residual high to enjoy for the rest of the evening. Actually, a natural high that might even tide me over the whole weekend. Absolutely O! As in orgasmic!
Friday, December 12, 2008
A Positive Christmas
It was Friday, but I took the day off from work. I still woke up early though, to take a trip to the Social Hygiene Clinic to get the results of my Quantitative RPR. Nothing alarming, just part of the monitoring for my syphilis.
From there I headed straight to my favorite barber who gave me my signature semi-kalbo, after which I treated myself to a hairspa. Having not that much hair left and having a hairspa doesn’t make sense, but I mostly do it for the massage that comes with it. It borders between being extremely relaxing and slightly arousing. I don’t even know if he’s really good at it, or if I just find him that hot. It feels so good that I get chills down my spine. And so much chills that I get confused whether I’m truly aroused, or just need to pee. Mmm.
It was just 11:00 am. So did I take a leave just to get my lab results and treat myself to a haircut? No, of course not. That was just the beginning. All in preparation for a big day, my first Christmas Party at the RITM.
I was feeling good today. My face was cooperating, with my breakouts taking a bit of a break. Even my sniffles were in on it, as my runny nose held up for the day. Okay so the haircut was half because I needed it, and half because I wanted to make a good first impression. Good impression, my ass! Was I planning to flirt?! No, not planning. Let’s just say I was open to the possibility. No, no. More like I needed to feel confident. Whatever.
I was able to convince U to go, so we went together, buying some pitchi-pitchi and some bread and dip on the way, for our contribution to the potluck celebration. Coming from all the way north, and going all the way south, it was expected that we’d be late. Let’s just say call time was 10:00 am, and we got there at 1:30 pm. Talk about Filipino time.
Walking in to the tune of Hep-Hep-Hooray being played by some of the pusits, I carefully stayed unnoticed while I looked around, wondering if I’d see someone I wasn’t expecting to see. Someone who I’d made contact with, who I didn’t know had HIV, too. Fortunately, other than the guys and some gals I’d met at the RITM and San Lazaro before, our resident counselor, the Doctor and the Ates, no other familiar faces. A big Whew! from me.
After a run down the buffet, I sat down and faded into my wall flower mode. Quiet, insignificant, observant, hiding behind a huge column in the middle of the hall, away from all the action. I looked the crowd over a second time between bites, checking everyone out. I have been asked by others if there really are a lot of hot guys there. I just tease, saying SECRET! I’m sorry you couldn’t make it! Hehehe.
And, though it was a party, and as much as I’d liked to share the experience, I didn’t expect any pictures to be taken. I myself opted against bringing a camera with me, from fear of the pictures having to look like this...
That aint lookin' so Christmasy, huh? Hahahahaha.
But more importantly, other than a couple of guys I noticed in face masks, everyone looked every bit normal and ordinary as the rest of the world. There were guys, there were girls, even guys who looked like girls... nothing new to me. There were kids running around, some RITM personnel hanging out and some affected friends in the mix, so much so that no one could probably identify correctly who was HIV positive and who wasn’t. I couldn’t tell myself just by looking.
I just had a moment of bother when one guy was introduced to me. It was a guy who I’ve mentioned in one of my posts before, and not in an entirely good way. Let’s just say I gave my honest opinion not expecting to meet him face to face. But he was nice enough to smile and say something to the tune of yeah, I know him already, which left me speechless. I realize I’m treading the waters between fame and notoriety as The Blogger. Good thing I snapped out of the paranoid spell soon enough.
From across the room, I noticed someone looking my way. It was Baby Nathan’s dad. He cradled the Baby who seemed frightened by all the noise, flashing his familiar smile. I was caught off guard by how he recognized me from that far away, but I nodded and smiled back, and understood, they were doing okay.
A young lady walked by, a couple of minutes later, shook my hand, said thank you and walked off. I later realized she was the Baby’s mom, who I was seeing and meeting for the first time. It was surprising how young she looked, but again refreshing how positive her aura was, even belting out more than a handful of songs on the videoke machine.
Daddy walked over to my corner a bit later, updating me that the Baby was doing fine. The Baby was taken off the ARVs that were causing him fevers, and was shifted to my same pills probably, which he apparently melts in his mouth like candy. Yum. I thought to myself, now he’s really getting his childhood back. I couldn’t help but smile.
Several videoke songs, a fabulous production number from a t-back bearing babe, a couple of hours more of food, zero word from work, an exchanging of gifts, some bulge- and finger-related speculations about my penis size – something I’ve come to be comfortable with and proud of, ahem, ahem – and a refill of my ARV supply later, the crowd had thinned and it was time to go.
U and I headed back up north the way we came, had dinner at the mall – like we didn’t get enough nutrition already – and chatted over some hot chocolate into the night, until we went our own ways at about 10:30 pm.
Looking the day over, the Grinch in me has to admit that it was a positive day. And if this, being my first Christmas party of the year, is a sign of things to come, I think I’ll have a happy Christmas this year.
Christmas is supposed to be about family, and be it as small as Baby Nathan’s family, or as big as the community that came out to celebrate, I felt how it was to have a family. It’s only today that I can finally say that I do feel the spirit of Christmas.
A Positively Merry Christmas to us all!
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Half A Day Off
I’m on Day 12 now of my ARV trial, still everything is green and go. And I’m thankful. Two more days, and I graduate to the higher “test”.
I had planned to take Friday off from work to accompany an online acquaintance to the RITM for his first steps since finding out he was positive. Good thing I took U’s advice and sent Ate a text message a day before confirming if the doctor would be there that day. She replied that the doctor wouldn’t be holding clinic there that Friday, and told me to come on Monday afternoon. I relayed the information to my referral-to-be, and he agreed.
So I had a bit of a change in plans, and took just the morning of Friday off instead. I needed to drop by the Social Hygiene Clinic in Manila again, to get the results of the lab tests I had done the week before, and have more tests done.
So I took the trip straight there first thing in the morning, and greeted Dr. Diana Mendoza, who was still alone when I got there. I can’t explain the warmth I feel from all of them whenever I go there. Dr. Diana, Dra. Malou and Ate Luz, and even the utility guy Kuya Gerry have been there since my day 1. I have nothing to hide, nothing else to be ashamed about, and I’m just really comfortable there.
Dr. Diana greeted me with a smile, and asked what more tests I needed done. I reminded her I was there for the lab results of my RPR and Fecalysis, which is when she called an Ate Olive and requested to check with the lab downstairs for my results. Ate Olive was sort of assisting the doctor that time, doing the things that Kuya Gerry would do before.
While waiting, Dr. Diana sat me down and eagerly asked me how I was doing. I mentioned I had just started on ARVs, which made her pleasantly surprised. She found it wonderful that I was up and about being just over a week into the trials, noticing that I was taking it well, and even said, “It didn’t even make you darker?!” Darker? Yikes, nobody told me about that side effect. Oh, well. After all, I’m dark enough. How much darker can I get?
So anyways, she went on asking how it was at the RITM, as compared to San Lazaro. I never felt afraid of admitting to them there at the Social Hygiene Clinic that I had transferred to RITM, mostly because I know they’re not tied to either. It just so happened that they were just across San Lazaro, so it made sense to refer HIV cases there for profiling. I just said that the facilities were better, to which she replied that others had given the same feedback as well. But I explained the real reason why I needed to transfer, about how I was left hanging by the San Lazaro doctors.
She was obviously surprised by the difference of the two centers in handling HIV cases, especially that one could start on ARVs without confinement or disclosing to family. She understood my sentiments, and promised she’d bring it up with the San Lazaro people.
She mentioned she knew of others who had made the same move as well, and that the dilemma with San Lazaro was making it hard for them at the SHC to keep track of their “babies”. Apparently, since they started their HIV screening program there at the Social Hygiene Clinic in November last year, they’ve had 15 cases of positive results, I being one of them. With fifteen being still a low number, they could still keep in mind by face or by codename, so they’d be constantly wondering how we were all doing by now. Technically, we would not have any need to come back to the SHC after the referral to San Lazaro. So she found it great that I was still dropping by there, just so they knew how their “baby” was. It was nice. Their concern is truly, truly genuine.
Some more minutes of chit chat later, Ate Olive came back with my results. Okay, okay, not entirely good. My Fecalysis results were fine, but the Quantitative RPR, which is a test for Syphilis, still came out reactive, of higher concentration since three months before. Yeah, yeah, I got it, and it’s not something to be proud of.
Dr. Diana initially thought of administering another round of treatment, but just told me to refer it to them at the RITM, being cautious that it may interfere with my ARVs, or that they might have a different protocol of treatment at the RITM. I agreed. I then remembered to ask her if they did Hepatitis screening there, which they didn’t. Yeah, yeah, Chronic Hepatitis B. Alas, another possible problem for me. But I’m just thankful that we’re doing the test, something that wasn’t part of the protocol at San Lazaro.
So she sent me down with Ate Olive to get a referral for a nearby private clinic which did the Hepatitis screening. I left shortly, thanking them all, with a note in my hand signed by Ate Marina of the laboratory department, which was my ticket to a discounted price at Jubilee, the private lab along Bambang, just walking distance from the SHC.
I walked there, just a couple of blocks, got pricked yet again, and headed off. It was around 9:00 am, and I was anticipating where my medicines time would catch me. So I took the LRT south to EDSA, stopping at the Metropoint Mall to buy a bottle of water just in time to down my tablet. Then back to Ortigas via MRT, just in time to catch the Robinsons mall opening. I still had a couple of hours of my half-day off, so I checked it out, the mall being on sale for the whole month of August. I ended up just buying a small drinking bottle, supposedly to lug around in my bag just enough for a gulp, in case I’d get caught again outside in time for my 9:30 habit. Oh and I got another one for U, too. Hope he likes it.
So anyway, that was that. A lot done in less than half a day. I was back at work and back to ordinary life. More updates soon. I need to do my research on Hepatitis, and refresh on Syphilis as well. I’m trying not to hide in a closet within my closet, so I’ll just take things in stride. What else could be next?
Friday, June 27, 2008
Yahoo!
I apologize. I’ve been meaning to blog since yesterday, but never got the time, nor the energy, until today. Finally.
I do have something big to write about. Well, it's big to me, at least.
Yesterday brought some news, the best I've gotten in the very recent past.
Let me introduce… H. This H guy has been part of my journey ever since. A silent party maybe. He’s the first person I told when I got my results. I don’t even remember how it happened, but it was something like we got tested the same week, and while he got his results a day after, mine had taken a while, as you can recall. He told me his was negative, and was eager probably to share my relief when I was to find out I was negative. But that time never came. He knew I was waiting for the results, so I had to tell him. He’d figure it out somehow if I didn’t tell. So I told him my bad news.
Now, the catch is, H and I had been buddies for a couple of months before we got tested. Yes, buddies. Yes, we were a perfect match. Yes, we were doing it. And yes, at times unprotected. So he has been hanging in the balance since mid-March, waiting for the three-month window to pass before getting retested. We’d been regularly chatting during this period. I updated him on my check-ups, and he updated me on his paranoia. Some days he’d feel some things that he thought could be symptoms, other days he’d tell me he felt he was negative. I don’t know how much of this blog he’s read, but he knows about it definitely.
Finally, he was able to get tested this last Wednesday. The three month wait to get tested may have been torture for him, but I’m sure the 24-hour wait for the results was worse. I told him I’d be praying for him, and pray I did.
Finally, the day came. A Thursday again, coincidentally. Big day Thursday. He sent me a text message, saying he didn’t know how it happened… but he was negative. Negative! OMG, that’s the best news ever! And I’m sure I had a my share of a sigh of relief at that moment.
I always thought his next steps would be to head on off, go on with life, disassociate himself from me, and just be more careful in the future. But he surprised me. In the next message he sent, he told me to take him off my guilt-list and add him to the reliable-buddies-list… It was just really, really touching to hear that. Something I didn’t ask for or expect at all.
I’m truly blessed to have encountered someone like him. I knew before that we were good together physically and intellectually, but now emotionally as well. I’m sure he knows it’s him I’m talking about. And I’m sure he’ll agree, this was a very unusual, but great start to one hell of a friendship.
At least I know one person is celebrating this weekend… And so I say, STAY SAFE!!!... in every possible way… wink, wink…
Thursday, June 19, 2008
The Little Birdie
I’ve just had my first official sleepless night. Did something happen? Definitely. Good or bad? I can’t really say.
I’ve been quizzing myself every so often with my What-ifs. One of them was What if I didn’t break up with my last boyfriend? I always wondered if things would’ve been better if I swallowed my pride, just gave him the liberty to fool around behind my back, and stayed together with him. Would this have prevented me from catching the bug? Last night, my question was suddenly answered.
Let’s just say I heard it through the grapevine. A little birdie told me. Well, technically, not exactly little. Impressive actually. I had bumped into this little birdie a couple of times before, but never really became more than just acquaintances. We really had only one real common link between us, which was my ex. The little birdie told me we needed to meet and talk in person, the sooner, the better for me according to him. Next week wasn’t even soon enough. Hmm. The little birdie really got me thinking what this was all about.
So last night, we decided the quickest way was to talk over the phone. After the initial pleasantries, the little birdie came to its mission. I had heard from my ex that he was recovering from a medical procedure performed on him. But the little birdie had more to the story. Apparently, the medical personnel were baffled by the ex’s infection that wasn’t responding to the medication. So baffled that they needed to rule it out. So they did the test. And yes, he was HIV positive. Although the thought had grazed my mind due to the little birdie’s sense of urgency to meet, at that point, I still was a bit shocked.
It was at this point that the little birdie said that I should get myself tested as well. The little birdie had gotten its test too, which was definitively negative since they had not had contact since years and years ago. So I then blurted out that I was done with the test, and admitted I was positive as well. I may just have shocked the little birdie a bit, but definitely made its job much easier. He now understood why I knew so much about HIV and was less shocked than expected.
Apparently the ex was tested around the end of April, shortly after I got my result. He had also been to the H4 Ward at the San Lazaro Hospital. But I imagine that I may have gotten my patient number before he did. My mind went back to the medical chart of 059 who got confined at the H4. Maybe that was him.
He wasn’t simply just positive like I was. He was positive to the point of infections in the mouth and lower extremities. So bad that he was in crippling pain. His CD4 count was in the double digits. In other words, he categorically had AIDS. He was still too weak to start on ARVs. I know my chest was throbbing just trying to imagine his condition. It scared me to be honest.
I haven’t really been pondering too much on who I possibly got this from, but it never struck me to go as far as my last ex. We had known each other since September of 2005, and split up after almost 2 years together. It was after that I decided I’d enjoy singlehood for a change and let loose. So it was always that time after that relationship that I considered as my most risky.
It’s definitely presumptuous of me to think that I got it from him. For all we know, he may have gotten it from me. Or our infections may not even be directly linked, and just be coincidental. Only heaven knows.
For now, nothing much changes. I'm even more thankful now for the relatively fortunate condition I am in. Just a lot more to think about. I appreciate the effort the little birdie made to tell me. It was just concerned and bothered by its conscience. But don’t expect any confrontations to take place between me and the ex, because technically I should not know anything about it. I just hope he gets better. As for the little birdie, just as my secret is safe with it, its secret is safe with me.
Fly away little birdie… and thank you.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Scary!
I've been so stressed out these past few days. So much of my days have been spent thinking, and thinking, and thinking. An after-effect of the last consultation I had at the San Lazaro H4 Pavilion. And it's not even about the result of the CD4 count itself.
I still can't wrap my head around having to admitting to someone in the family that I'm HIV positive. It's just been barely two months. I'm still not even completely back on my feet from the news that I have HIV. And now this?!
I remember Dr. Malou of the Social Hygiene Clinic specifically say I should stay away from stress and depression because it in turn stresses and depresses my immune system. Something not good for someone with HIV. So why are the doctors at the H4 practically forcing me to tell someone in the family?
I honestly got the impression that they were indirectly saying something to the tune of If you don't tell, we won't start you on the medication. I mean if this were really a life and death situation, regardless of who knows or does not, they should give me the medicines I need, right?
I'm expecting everyone will find out eventually, but I'd appreciate being told that I could take my sweet time. I need to be reassured that it is not a requisite to being treated. I believe it is my health that is important, and that does not directly revolve around who I am able to reveal to.
It's just really really not that easy. It's easier said than done. Dealing with HIV, I can be pretty brave. But when it has to combine with interacting with other people, I'm chicken shit. I realize that the less I know a person, a stranger to the extreme, the easier it is for me to tell about my condition. Adversely, the more I know someone, the harder it is to tell.
I've been trying to analyze why this is the case with me, and I guess the difficulty to reveal is proportional to what reputation I've built with the person. I'm not saying I have some flawless reputation which I need to protect. I've always been flawed to begin with. But telling someone I've shared years with would retrogress to the very start of the acquaintance, I imagine. It would snowball into other issues and other skeletons in my closet, like how I got it, what I've been doing these past years, when I got it, how gay I am, how promiscuous I am, how I could have hidden my alternative life, and so on. Too many questions I might not have enough time to backtrack and answer, assuming I have answers at all. Multiply that with the number of people I have to come out to, and that just scares me. I just hope it doesn't scare me to death. That'll just put me out of my misery, huh?
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Brain Overload
My Thursdays still have not managed to let my guard down. Again, it was H4 day. I was out of the house by 7:00 am, and a tricycle and a jeepney ride later, I reached the HIV ward of San Lazaro Hospital. It was just 8:00 in the morning, and lo and behold, I was first on the list!
I don't think they expected anyone that early, so the nurse just sat me down by the seats by the door of the building to take a breather, before they took down my vitals and while they finished their duties and reports.
After some time, more people poured in, and I gamely sat in their midst. It was not exactly in my comfort zone to mingle, but it was nice. I was finding it a bit hard to keep up, but I surprised myself by being comfortable in that crowd. There were around 20 of us there, and I got acquainted with a number of them, as they introduced me as "the new one".
I noticed a couple of them whip out what looked like white bank passbooks. I read what was written. Health Regimen Booklet. Hmmm, so I figure this is how their ARVs are monitored. I wasn't looking forward to getting one of my own though.
By 9:00 am, the doctors came. My usual doctor wasn't there. So the other doctor and a new one were on hand. They started off making rounds of the ward and checking on those confined. By about 9:30, they headed for the doctors' office and I was called in shortly.
She already had my folder on her desk, but still asked my patient code. She then flipped through another folder, where she was looking for my CD4 test results. Finding it and taking it from the folder, she sat down and looked at me sternly. She asked me some old questions again, like who knows, if I had a partner, and how I'm dealing. She reiterated the need to tell someone in the family. Rebriefing I guess.
At this point, she stared at my results, and asked me what I wanted to hear. Whether I wanted to hear the number flat out, or just if it was bad or good. I sort of giggled a bit at the question, and just said I wanted it all. She still held back a bit, looked at me, and said it was below 350. My mind raced at that point, but I kept a straight face. Normal is above 500, so it's not that good. But how far below 350? The critical 200 was below 350. Absolute zero was below 350, too. Tell me! Tell me!
Finally, she said it. My CD4 count is 343. Not entirely bad, but not good either. Almost midway between normal 500 and critical 200. She then said that she'd advise I get started on ARVs. But not before more counselling. And not before I have a support system behind me. Family preferably. Friends possibly. Anyone really. I said I was planning to tell my sister, and realized this development just made it more urgent. A lot to think about in the coming days.
The doctor then sent me off, but not before leaving me her mobile number, so I could contact her when I was ready to get counselling with whoever I chose.
I was honestly a bit defeated that I wasn't doing as well as I was feeling. I bid goodbye to my new friends out front before heading off back to work. I didn't even drop by the Social Hygiene Center. I was planning to just check in on Dra. Malou and the gang there, but suddenly didn't feel like it. Maybe another time, when I was less distracted.
I'm a bit glad that I have work to think about, and colleagues to laugh it up with and get stressed out by. But I won't be avoiding this for long. I'm left with a lot to think about right now. Head... hurts... hehehe.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Bang, Bang...
Thursday is coming up fast again. I’m not nervous. A bit excited actually.
I know I should be sleepless, panicky and paranoid by now. But hey, it’s just a CD4 count. Worrying about it won’t help. As the song says, Que sera sera, Whatever will be, will be.
There’s just really no way of guessing how good or how bad it’s going to be. At this point I do acknowledge that my paranoia can get its way sometimes, linking every pain, every rash, every pimple, and everything else with HIV. So unless I’m really bedridden or hospitalized for something, I have no reason to think my CD4 count will be alarmingly low.
On the other hand, I can’t confidently say that we caught the bug in its early stages. I can only guess when exactly I got infected and by whom. Which is why I notice myself scouting for some familiar faces at the H4 when I’m there. I don’t know exactly how I’ll react, but it might be along the lines of So did you catch it from me? Or did I from you?
I now realize that my sex life has been a huge game of Russian roulette. The only difference is that the gun was always pointed my way, and I didn’t know exactly how many bullets there were. And still, I would usually take the risk of not wearing the bulletproof vest. So eventually and expectedly, I got hit.
I don’t know if that classifies me as really brave or really stupid. But I always thought that each was a requisite for the other. But it was all my choice. I guess it was all in my personality to live life for the day, like I had nothing to lose and have no regrets. Extremely noble… if only I lived in my own world, independent and void of outside connections. But that’s too much to ask.
Everything creates ripples. Everything is connected. We live in a world ruled by laws which state stuff like Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, No man is an island, Energy can not be created nor destroyed, and Birds of a feather flock together. I won’t go as far as saying Misery loves company. I would never wish this upon anyone else.
So now, though the gun is still going around, I’m trying hard to handle my bullet responsibly. Bang, bang…
