I'm certainly the type of person who accepts criticism well. Hell, I spend most of my life laughing at myself. That's not bad, it's fun. I live on humility, and that's one thing I'm proud of.
When I started this blog, there was always the option not to allow comments to be posted on my entires. But hey, why the hell wouldn't I? Even now, each comment left has an option for me to delete it, something that I don't think I'll do unless it's something really really offensive or irrelevant.
So with that said, I'm not planning on deleting any comments posted... But that doesn't mean I can't react. Hehehe.
This morning, I opened the day with three new comments left on one of my entries, apparently by one and the same person. I just felt the need to... uhm, I don't know what better word to use... defend myself. Okay, maybe clarify would be a good word. So here goes my... clarification.
Anonymous said...
i am positive too, and i am very happy when the doctor told me that im positive. i didnt flt bad or had a regret for all the things ive doned. coz it has doned. so now, im on the stage of exploring things in life. the way you address your blog. it seems until now you still not accepted the gift you have.
by the way im from quezon city also. im 25 when i found out that im positive and now im 28. i told it to my frend when i realized that im positive. thats why sometimes, i have the time to share my life with her if i need to. coz i you need someone who can be there for you if you need somebody to cry on. somebody will say to you. "IKAW KASI" you know that. its more happier if someone will address it to you and made you realized that life is so great. so have a friend.
if you need someone to talked to. im here. hehehe. but i know you will keep it to yourself about that gift. remember its not a disease its a gift. you should be the first one to accept urself before someone will accept u. ako ung anonymous lahat sa blog mo
And PinoyPoz says...
Okay, I admit I wasn't exactly ecstatic to find out I was HIV positive, I mean honestly, who would be? But I was far from being depressed. Surprised a bit maybe... but I've been dealing with it.
Regret is not something I normally have, I'm not the type. I think I've mentioned that in one of my earlier entries. The nearest thing to regret that I feel right now is due to the reality of the possibility that I may have brought harm to those that I have encountered. I would rather die to keep them safe.
I can honestly say that I have not shed a single tear of sadness since I found out that I was poz. Just please hold the sappy song and the mushy movies, okay? As such, I haven't even considered the need to have a friend to be my shoulder to cry on. Why cry? Life is great! And I knew that long before I found out I was poz, and not because someone told me. :-)
Living with HIV still remains something that one cannot brag about or be proud of. Not in this world that's been brewed by generations that lack understanding, and that foster stigma and discrimination for our kind. So until the world has a major attitude change, or the self-righteous die out, confidentiality and anonymity are my friends.
HIV is a disease, but I regard it as a blessing. I mentioned it before in an earlier post. It's not normal to have HIV, but it's not abnormal. It's not ordinary. It's extraordinary. I'm special. And it's an honor to be able to share my life with you.
So there. I'm just not sure who misunderstood who. If Anonymous was reading the same blog I was writing. If he or she didn't read from the beginning. If some things were getting lost in translation.
I admit I'm no expert on living with HIV, but then give me a break. I'm just barely two months into this, I still have a lot to learn, but I think I've been doing great for a beginner. My whole HIV life is unfolding through this blog, so you tell me how I'm doing. If this isn't accepting it, I don't know what else is.
Klaro? Hehehe...
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Speaking Up
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…
Monday, June 02, 2008
Time Flies
I just got back from a loooong weekend. After last Thursday spent at San Lazaro, Friday morning signaled the start of a big family weekend. From my dad’s side of the family, aunts, uncles and cousins already based in the US came home to the Philippines. Some of them I hadn’t seen in twenty-plus years. Add to that most of the clan based in the Philippines, most of whom I haven’t met or don’t even know. We all headed to the southeastern part of Luzon, to go home to our province in Bicol.
My mom and I were fetched at home Friday morning, and picked up some of my dad’s cousins and their families in the area. We totaled 16 in the van, including 4 kids, just right for the size of the vehicle. By about 8:00 in the morning, we were on our way out of the city. So how far away is it? Eight to ten hours. Loooong trip. I had planned to sleep through the whole trip, but with all the yakking and cackling of everyone else there, plus a special mention to the cousin I had beside me who kept tapping my shoulder telling me to listen to her, and slapping my back everytime she laughed, I hardly snuck a wink in.
So needless to say, we were there in no time. We got there before 5:00 that evening. Tired. I’m sure I wondered if this was HIV-related fatigue, but really it was just such a long trip.
I honestly had been dreading meeting all the relatives I haven’t seen or didn’t know. I’d much rather blend into the wallpaper. I sort of got used to being “just the other child”, but my brother and sister weren’t there at the time to grab all the attention. I don’t really have much to be proud of, at least not to the levels of my siblings. It’s all just same old, same old for me. But really, it wasn’t that bad. Save for a number who just wouldn’t stop asking if I was married or had a girlfriend or what, everyone seemed glad to meet me. I still half hate everytime people say I’m a carbon-copy of my father. But no permanent damage.
So what’s the big occasion anyways? It’s my grandmother’s birthday. Not just any. It’s her 100th. One hundred years. That’s like a double gold, or a silver-diamond. Wow. I know. She’s hard of hearing, almost blind, bedridden most of the time, but noticeably, her mind, wit and humor are still there. I know I inherited those from her.
Apparently women in our family have longer lifespans. My grandfathers on both my dad’s and mom’s sides are already gone, while both grandmothers are still around. My dad didn’t even make it to 60. And as for me, I can only be happy that I’ve gotten to 30. The odds of me even reaching 50 are grim. But that’s all me, my genes are not to blame.
I thought this would be a good time to pull my sister aside and tell her about my condition. But I never got the chance, not to mention I doubt if I’d have the guts to tell her. But all in all, it was not bad. I loved seeing my cousins from the US. Even the one I accidentally dropped from a flight of stairs when I was a kid. Even the one who used to tag team with my brother to bully me. I loved meeting the at least 200 of my relatives, thinking to myself that this might be the last chance they’d get to meet me.
I tend to wonder if this many people will show up when my time comes. And it honestly makes me sad that I can’t say for certain. So I need to change the topic.
So anyway, home by Sunday morning after taking the night trip by public transport, I’m happy. I’m proud, because I faced what was sort of my fear of facing people. Facing family. But this is only the beginning. They’ll find out about me eventually. And I realize that this is something that I should begin facing now, before time runs out.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
H4 Galore
Another big Thursday for me. I left around 7 am, but not before talking with K over the phone. He just called to send me off on what he thinks is another regular work day for me. Little did he know.
So I made it to the HIV ward of the San Lazaro Hospital a little past 8 am, had myself registered, and my vital signs taken. H4-2008-054. Weight is still the same, blood pressure normal, temperature was a bit high, I’m thinking because I had barely taken a breather before they sat me down to take it. But I was feeling fine.
I noticed some of those metal medical clipboards on the counter, probably records of those confined. I noticed that the patient codes were written on the top of the clipboards, one of which I read as H4-2008-059. I realized, geesh, at least five other people have already been diagnosed after me. And whoever this is, his condition has called for him to be confined. I’m pretty lucky then.
I walked into the waiting room, and sat down. There were three other guys already there. One of them I recognized to be the guy trying to smile at me when I was there two weeks ago. A bit surprising, since he has been checked-up at least twice this month already. He recognized me, smiled and went back to reading his newspaper. The four of us continued waiting since the doctors hadn’t arrived yet.
After a while, Y walked in and started chatting up with all of us there, who he knew apparently. It was nice to see a familiar face. He still treated me as the new kid, which was nice.
I heard voices from the reception counter, later on realizing it was the other doctor. She called for me, and instructed the nurse to hand me my referral slip for the CD4 count. I was pointed to the direction of the SACCL, short for STD/AIDS Central Cooperative Laboratory. Their name was also on my diagnostic results which I got last April. Apparently this is where most of the STD related tests are done, such as Hepatitis, HIV, Venereal Disease, etc.
But before going, I noticed the guy getting his vital signs taken, looking at me. He was cute. He seemed like an older guy, smaller, fair, manly, a bit stocky, dignified, and a bit shy. My type. I don’t know what his name is, but he was looking at me, and I was looking back. I still wasn’t hell bent at using the ward as a cruising place so I picked up my heels and just headed to the SACCL.
Walking to the next building, 8 or 9 people were waiting before me. I had to spill over to the waiting area outside the building where one other guy was. He asked me what I was there for, explaining he was there for a medical test for Hepatitis required for his application to the Philippine National Police. I don’t remember what I answered but I’m sure I couldn’t have been vaguer. Hahaha.
When it was the turn of the guy in front of me, I could hear from the voices in the lab that something was wrong. The guy first walked out with a cotton ball taped to his left arm. Going back in, he later walked out with another cotton ball on his right arm. Still they weren’t done. I don’t know where the hell else they took his blood, but this was scaring me quite a bit already!
Then my turn came. Oddly enough, they asked me to write my real name on the referral form, contrary to what I believed was a confidentiality law for HIV infected persons. If I were a fraction of sensitive and defensive, I would’ve put up a fight. But I wasn’t, so I penned my name away.
Then I saw the needle. It was bigger than my usual and it hurt going in. Then I felt the lady pushing and pulling and wiggling it around in there. My blood wasn’t flowing?! It was a problem with some adaptor they were using. It was hurting like hell! I’m still squirming right now recalling the pain. Then she just said sorry and pulled it out. Next arm. She had left me with a big red pock on my left arm, and had no blood to show for it. Thankfully she got it on the second try. I’ll need my phobia to heal again after this.
So anyways, I headed back to the ward, half wishing I’d catch “the guy” still there. I went in to see my doctor in the doctors’ office for less than 3 minutes, faced another one of her pity-faced are-you-sure-you’re-okays, and headed out. I didn’t see him there. I wasn’t sure, but good thing I waited because he had been talking with the other doctor the same time I was inside. So anyways, I saw him again, we exchanged nods a bit, but never talked. Y felt the need to keep me company, so I didn’t get the chance to work the guy over. I hope I bump into him there again sometime.
I’m beginning to look forward to San Lazaro. I’ll be back at the ward next Thursday, mostly to discuss my CD4 results with the doctor, but partly hoping to meet more pozzies as well. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll see “him” there again. Man, I’m a slut!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Mabuhay!
May 28 is Philippine Flag Day. So in that light, let me tell you more about my beloved country.
The Republic of the Philippines is an archipelago in Southeast Asia. It is comprised of around 7,107 islands, depending on whether it's high or low tide, divided into 3 major island groups, 17 regions, 81 provinces, 136 cities, 1,494 municipalities and 41,995 barangays or villages. Whew. That's a lot.
The Philippines is a melting pot. We’re neither black nor white, we’re somewhere in between, the brown beings of the earth. We’re a melting pot of races, generations, cultures, religions, nationalities, dialects, traditions and sexualities.
I actually feel I'm lucky to be a gay man in the Philippines. I believe the general population is accepting of gays, as they can be encountered everywhere, as hairdressers, make-up artists, fashion designers, stand-up comedians, impersonators, entertainers, dancers, masseurs, girls' best friends, and lately, the trend has spread to customer service, especially call center agents.
I guess the sad part about it is that the stereotype of effeminacy still prevails, which causes the misuse of the word bisexual to encompass discreet gays here.
Homosexuals here are lucky, but to some extent. We are accepted, but not entirely celebrated. I mean I don't see any gay marriage laws taking effect any time soon. But other than the close-to-dying generation and the closed-minded catholic sector, we can live pretty freely with the rest of the normal Filipinos here.
Living with HIV in the Philippines is another thing. I’d say it’s still on the border of being taboo, just like contraception and safe sex. No one talks about it. I never knew or met anyone who had it before this. I’d only see people with HIV on the news, or in documentaries, and not that often either. It’s even still regarded by most as a gay disease. I think the mere fact that only one specific ward in one specific hospital caters especially to patients with HIV and AIDS might sum it all up. Are we being tucked away in a corner of the closet? I’m still trying to figure out for myself how it is really to be living here with HIV.
Although I do look purely Filipino, I am actually not,. My family tree will reveal traces of British, Panamanian, and Chinese in my mix. So I myself am a melting pot.
Regardless, I like it here. I’m not your typical Filipino whose ultimate dream is to go abroad and pursue so-called greener pastures, and eventually forget or deny that they were ever Filipinos.
On my sidebar, to express my pride in being Filipino, or ‘Pinoy for short, I now stamp this blog with the official “Proudly Pinoy” seal. Sa isip, sa salita, at sa gawa (By thoughts, by words and by actions…).
PinoyPoz is Filipino, and proud of it. Mabuhay!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Count Down to Count
I just heard back from the doctor of the HIV ward of the San Lazaro Hospital, and she's confirmed my appointment on Thursday for my CD4 count.
I'm getting a bit of nerves again, both about the ward's Thursday crowd, and the test as well.
So to at least equip myself for the latter, I've been doing some research.
What are CD4 Cells?
CD4 cells, also known as T-cells, are a type of lymphocyte or white blood cell. An important part of the immune system, CD4 cells come in two main types. T-4 cells, or CD4+, are "helper" cells which lead attacks against infections. T-8 cells (CD8+) are "suppressor" cells that end the immune response. CD8 cells can also be "killer" cells that kill cancer cells and cells infected with a virus.
Why are CD4 Cells Important in HIV?
The cells that HIV infects most often are CD4 cells. The virus becomes part of the cells, which when multiply to fight infections, also make more copies of the HIV. The number of CD4 cells (their CD4 cell count) goes down when infected with HIV. The lower the CD4 cell count, the more likely the person will get sick.
What Factors Influence a CD4 Cell Count?
The CD4 cell count varies a lot. Time of day, fatigue, and stress can affect test results. It's best to have blood drawn at the same time of day for each CD4 cell test, and to use the same laboratory.
Infections and vaccinations can cause CD4 and CD8 counts to go up. It is advised to have CD4 cell counts at least a couple of weeks after recovering from an infection, or getting a vaccination.
How Are the Test Results Reported?
Reported as the number of cells in a cubic millimeter of blood, normal CD4 counts are between 500 and 1600. CD4 counts can drop to as low as zero in people with HIV.
What Do the Numbers Mean?
The CD4 cell count measures the health of the immune system. The lower the count, the greater damage HIV has done. Anyone who has less than 200 CD4 cells is considered to have AIDS according to the US Centers for Disease Control.
CD4 counts are also used to indicate when to start certain types of drug therapy such as antiretroviral therapy, aggressive retroviral therapy, and drug prescriptions to prevent opportunistic infections.
The complete article can be found at http://www.thebody.com/content/art6110.html.
Wish me luck.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Hug Me
I found a copy of this poster online, and it just broke my heart. I have AIDS. Please hug me. I can’t make you sick.
I’m a man with HIV, and I can feel how hard it is. I recognize the fear I have of not being accepted. I worry about being different from the norm. I feel like I’ve been demoted to being just someone who’s sick. But that’s me. I’m thirty. I am aware of how the world works. And I understand how I need to fight for my rights.
But what about the others who live with HIV and AIDS? What about the little kids? They’re not even supposed to be emotionally and mentally equipped to deal with situations like this. I can’t even imagine how hard it would be for them, not understanding why they’re being treated differently.
So I beg the rest of the world, please learn everything you can about HIV and AIDS. Not for me, but for the kids, and the others who need more understanding.
Leave the ostracism to guys like me. I can take it. They’re kids, for crying out loud. Spare them the hardships. Hug them. Hell, go pick on someone your own size.
