Holiday Count Down

The eve of Christmas, mass and dinner with my mom’s side of the family. And on Christmas itself, home recovering from the holiday stress. And then back to work for the few days before the turn of the year. That’s how it’s been in previous years. But this year was quite different. Good or bad? Let’s see.

The eve of Christmas was still marked off for the family. But more than my being stranded between the generations, this year I’d be the star. Oh wait, more like I’d have the star. The Li’l Bastard was to make his first appearance as the family’s new bunso at his first Christmas. He was dressed in a little grey shirt with blue piping that matched my own outfit. New places and new faces, kept him quite overwhelmed.

I successfully weaseled out of mass since pets aren’t allowed in the chapel. So we walked around the village to while away the time. Then it was time for a change of costume, as Santa Paws of course! Yes, the Li’l Bastard loves to dress up. And naturally, he became center of attention, the fashionable little whiny pup that always had his left paw up like a limp-wristed twink. Hahaha. Oh well. Mana mana.

By the end of the evening, I was just glad Christmas only happens once a year. Oi, pardon me for thinking that way as early as Christmas Eve.

Christmas Day, I had planned to stay home. But no. I had find internet access because I had work to do. Work?! I knowwwww! Work! So I spent the morning in a coffee shop at the mall, stalling enough through my iced mocha to get everything done. And then I headed back in time for lunch and to spend some home time.

The 26th and 27th continued in the same fashion. No plans, just rest. I did go out for a while to bump into a former college professor of mine to catch up on stuff over a couple of beers, but that was it. Recharge. Recharge.

I had the 28th planned out. I badly needed to go to RITM for med refill… as in two weeks ago. I had already borrowed a month’s supply of ARVs from W, with whom I share the same combination. So like a workday, I left the house at 7:00 am, but this time braved the MRT. Thankfully, it wasn’t as jam-packed as the usual workday rush hour. I actually got to RITM in under an hour, which I found amazing.

There, I texted an online friend. We were eyeballing. Meeting was easy since there were just two of us there at the clinic that early. We talked a bit. He told me about deciding to get tested after noticing he was getting sick a lot, and because he had come from a relationship with a particularly promiscuous guy. I found that amazing that he instantly thought HIV may be the culprit, not your normal reaction. He was barely a month on ARVs, and was there to complete some other baseline tests.

Ate came in and arranged for my refill. Leafing through my records, she pointed out some results. My viral load. The viral load is a quantitative measure of the HIV virus in the blood. The lower that is, the better. I’d never seen my results before. Apparently, my viral load, which is measured annually, has been UNDETECTABLE both in 2009 and 2010. I know I should’ve been jumping for joy, but I was probably in disbelief. Really?! Then my lifestyle, the medicines, and the yoga are working that well. Wow, well I’ll take that.

I left my new friend at the clinic while I went to the pharmacy. Mission accomplished. Ate also sent me to the back office, to submit some stuff for Philhealth. Oi, Philhealth is a long story...

So anyway, that done, I tagged along with my new friend for his errands. Back at the clinic, we caught the other nurse, Ate S. While figuring out my friend’s ARVs, she mentioned they’d started ARVs at the same time. Say what?! Sa kanya ako nahawa eh! I was aghast. Did they have unprotected sex? Did we have a pusit nurse all along?

Well, not quite. Apparently, Ate S suffered from an accidental needle prick injury while administering a PPD test to my friend on a previous visit. So however small the risk, she needed to have a prophylaxis, which meant a month of the very ARVs we‘re taking, just as a precaution. Talk about immersing yourself in the patient’s world, huh? A firsthand experience of ARVs. Not everyone can claim that. But she was in good spirits and was already joking about it.

Oh, and Ate S’ short stint with the RITM is about to end. She said she’d no longer be with us in 2011. Nope, nothing to do with the accident. She’s going to go to med school. I was saddened by the news a bit, she grew into such a competent nurse for us, but I know it’s for the best. You’ll never know, she might come back as our Doc S someday. Hmmm.

From there, we headed off and had lunch at the mall. An early lunch, he was, after all, coming from fasting for all his blood tests. From there, I headed back home to prepare to spend the afternoon with the hubby. Mmm.

Wednesday, the 29th, was Yoga for Life day as usual. But just after lunch, I was off on a mission in Manila. BFF and I met up and took the LRT to Tayuman. We walked a couple of blocks, and finally found our destination. YAFA. Youth AIDS Filipinas Alliance, an HIV advocacy group.

We found the address, but weren’t sure, since it didn’t look right. We knocked. The door was unlocked and opened up to a stairway. We walked up. Tao po? Someone walked out in just his underwear. Oh, welcoming committee? Hehe. Well, we seemed to catch them at the least perfect time. Let’s put things in context, they had scheduled a general cleaning that day, and there was a power interruption, thus, the outfit, or lack thereof.

As soon as they gathered their composure, we got the honor of sitting down with the famous DyingYoung. He told us all about YAFA, and BFF was able to ask his questions about one of their projects. It was actually very interesting, and reinforced the respect I have for YAFA. For such a young group, they’ve really been making waves.

From there, I got BFF to accompany me to the Manila Social Hygiene Clinic. It’s maybe been more than a year since I was last there. Nurse Malou Tan is no longer connected to the SHC. But I got to see Dra. Diana Mendoza, rebond and all. I don’t even think she remembered my name. I left some Positivism brochures with her and asked how the SHC was doing.

They still have free HIV rapid testing there at the Manila SHC, so she asked that we refer people to them for screening. They’re open Mondays to Thursdays, 8:00 am to 3:00 pm, and Friday mornings till noon.

And from there, we took the LRT-MRT route to Ortigas. After a quick snack in Shangrila, we headed to yoga early. Yoga was special today. A hundred and eight sun salutations. Yes, 108 forward bends, halfway lifts, pushups down, and upward- & downward-facing dogs. Was I confident I could do it? Not particularly. But I was going to try. And try I did.

After it all, up to today, two days after, biceps and triceps, quads and calves, back and chest, basically from the top of my neck to the soles of my feet, I’m sore. Sore in a good way. And the fulfillment of getting through the 108 sun salutations is phenomenal. Roarrrrr!

So that was my itinerary for the week leading up to the turn of the year. Sounds like a lot for just a week, especially for me. If that’s going to set the stage for 2011, then it’s going to be a busy one. Bring it on. Bring it on. With that, I hope everyone has all their fingers intact, and had a very Happy New Year. It's 1-1-11. Nagpaputok ka ba?

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A Good Night

Last night. Saturday night. I got a birthday invite. Not just from one, but two people. A joint birthday bash. Two people I knew, and hadn’t seen for a while. This was the chance to. The perfect excuse to finally show up at a pusit party. Should I, or should I not? How sure am I that this is going to prove to be a good night? I’m not. But...

I don’t usually like going to pusit gatherings like these, mostly because of the possibility of seeing some... uhm... nega-monsters.

Nega-monsters. My term for a few pusits who are just swimming in so much bitterness that they’re just out to nitpick at everyone who crosses their paths - devoid of any wit, sense or reason - as though they’re perfect and actually have a hand in the lives of everyone else. Nega-monsters. Ironic how someone who is “positive” can be so negative. Ugh.

Of course, there’s a lot to nitpick about me, but then I never claimed to be perfect. But then again, it’s my life, right? And these nega-monsters have been out to get me and some of my friends. Not our fault, they just don’t have lives of their own. And I choose my battles, and these nega-monsters have never been worth one.

With that, I choose to avoid any possibility of encountering these negativities, not participating in some of these gatherings at the risk of appearing elitist, snooty and anti-social. I’m just not the type to care if others think that way.

So with this opportunity to celebrate another year for two friends, and the assurance that nega-monsters weren’t invited, I seriously considered and reconsidered going.

Saturday night, I found myself on the way up north, with BFF and O. After around two hours on the road, we got there, almost exactly on call time, but still early as just the second group to arrive. The celebrants were there already plus a couple of familiar faces. And as the rest of the group showed up, sans the fact of being an hour or so late, it struck me that that night was going to be a good night.

Primarily, there were no nega-monsters. That in itself was reason to party. Other than that, Ate showed up with some other staff of the RITM. Perfect. I always thought having authority figures at times like these will mean that things will be kept in check. Of the 30 or so people there, I only hadn’t been acquainted with less than a handful maybe. For me, that means a bit of a comfort zone.

A group of pusits who prefer not to call themselves pusits was there, but in all fairness they were the ones I didn’t have problems with... not so much at least. Mr. Mouth was there, flaunting his gift of gab as usual, but thankfully this time, not anywhere in my direction, so he was okay. Not a problem.

Another set of people, I knew from the empowerment seminar I attended several months ago. A majority of our batch was there actually. Some sort of a mini-reunion after months of not seeing most of them.

But really, the biggest surprise was the little pozzie posse I fell into since about a year ago. Roll call?

There were four of my “kids”; the first ever person I brought to RITM, LittleJenny, and RedAppleBlackMark, and my adopted kid Positive'sStory. There was one of E’s “kids”, who I surrogated and who just happened to currently be LittleJenny’s beau, making him an in-law. Some friends LuckyTrese, O, and BruceKho. Papi was there, as well as one of his “kids”, who just happened to be LuckyTrese’s ahem-ahem. And my friendly neighborhood BFF, GreenFrog, of course. I was missing a couple of people though, W and E. And maybe my “dad”, U, who technically is part of the family.

But twelve of us there made it one hell of a reunion. A reunion because it’s been a while since I last saw some of them. The only ones I would regularly are those who attend Yoga for Life. Other than that, being busy with each one’s lives has been keeping us apart. And quite frankly, I’m sort of happy that we didn’t see each other a lot.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not about me not wanting to see them. I’m happy because that just means everyone’s busy with their lives. Busy being productive. Busy with their own families. Busy with their personal lives maybe. Just basically being busy going on with life, sans the HIV-positive part. Busy proving that life goes on. Perfect.

But despite this apparent retreat from the posse, we still know we’re all just around, and we still love seeing each other every time we do. Sort of like we move in our own little circles but still gravitate towards each other somehow, like the planets to the sun. The bond remains, if not gets stronger. Absence, fonder.

Also funny that night, I realized that most of the posse I haven’t even known for a full year. But I’m pretty sure there’ll be more years to come. I don’t believe that it’s the HIV that’s keeping us together. It’s more like HIV brought us together, but it’s something else that’s keeping us tight. Jiving personalities maybe. The overall good vibe. Whatever it is, heaven knows.

And so with that, that night was indeed a good night. Even if I had to leave my little bastard at home. Even if I made the boyfie sad at the fact that I chose my friends over him for that night... he was extremely understanding but I’ll make it up to him. Even if I’m still reeling from lack of sleep right now. Even if there was that one parlor game that led to a hair-raising and spine-tingling mishap... not my mishap, but my hair raising and spine tingling. Even if, even if, even if... Last night truly, truly was a good night.

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Money Matters

I’ve been feeling a financial crunch lately - on a personal level, that is. Right now, I have less than PhP 200.00 in my wallet. That’s pretty decent on a regular day. But it’s a weekend. And even before the gimmick worthy night creeps in, I’m already concerned. We usually have lunch out at work every Friday. So I’ve been forced to feign a diet and watch what I eat. Not for the calories, but for the pesos I’ll be spending.

Oi. Money. They say it makes the world go ‘round. If there’s any truth to that, then my world is coming to a screeching halt.

Okay fine, I’m not really that broke. It’s just that for my last few paydays, I seem to have racked up a good amount of expenses. Let’s do some accounting.

Naturally, daily expenses are there. Commutes to and from work, meals and other incidentals at work are staples. If only I could stop at staples. There are the monthly bills to pay, of course. But wait, there’s more!

The first spend that I remember is also the most remarkable. Christmas. I’m not excited, but a sale makes it too easy. This early, I’ve bought Christmas gifts for both my mom and myself. Remarkable, I say, because buying an LCD television for each of us isn’t a joke. One of the rare times I’ve allowed myself to eat into my savings. I rationalize it with the sale price, the savings on electricity I stand to gain, and the look of disbelief on my mom’s face when her least successful child offers to pay for a little bit of luxury. Hehehe.

And then there are all those tests I needed to pay for when I last paid RITM a visit for my CD4 count. Over PhP 2,000.00 worth, and I’m not even done yet. They say I need to go back for a repeat of my RPR to check if my syphilis is indeed still active. Argh. Another thousand there.Recently, I offered to shoulder medications for someone confined at the RITM. Considering it wasn’t anyone I knew, I really didn’t need to help. But the way Ate pulled me aside and told me how this person’s mother would choose walk to and from the drugstore every day just to save on fare, my heartstrings were pulled. With an unexpectedly small amount, I was able to cover her needs for a month. At least, her mom can lay off the walkathon for a month.

My exercise regimen is something I’ve added. There’s Yoga for Life. Of course, the sessions are really free, but any donations are used to shoulder the cost of the venue. Indigent students aren’t expected to donate if they can’t. But then, HELLO! I’ve got my pride. I am NOT indigent. So I give what I can to shoulder my share. Take that! Oh, and I have been in the process of putting together some way to work out at home. I have my yoga mat, a bench, and my first installment of dumbbells. Slowly but surely, so the costs come slowly as well. Hehe.

My little Bastard is another factor. It’s like having a kid. I get carried away shopping for stuff for him. A cage, food, toiletries, pee & poop pads, leashes & collars, a little carry bag, and lots of toys. And it’s depressing when he foregoes his toys to play with the plastic bag. Argh.

And as my first official dog, I’ve made it a point to get friendly with a vet for him. All the consultations, vitamins and shots really rack up as well. Good thing he got his last set of shots last week. Whew. He’s good till next year, we just gotta keep him healthy. It’s bad enough that I wasn’t careful enough to keep my own doctor away, so I’m bringing him up the right way now. Yep, even in the canine world, prevention is better than the cure.

And then of course, we cannot forget this little relationship that I’m in. I don’t know if I speak for anyone else, but dating can be expensive. Especially for me, since I’m coupled with someone who won’t let a week pass without seeing me at least twice. The dinners and movies are fun, but then he’s not the eat-just-anywhere type. He needs restaurants with decent food and excellent service, which means no Burger Machines and Aling Nena‘s Carinderias. But neither am I the freeloading type. I pay for my fair share of the tab. Yep, that’s proud little me.

So there. I’m maxed out. Well I’m not exactly broke. It’s my miserly fault too for doing everything in my power not to touch what I already have in savings.

So at this point, I need to beg. From you. From anyone out there. Not for myself, but for my beneficiary at the RITM I mentioned earlier. She’s confined right now, and is on medication for six months. A cocktail of medicines for some sort of respiratory infection, I think. Based on the per piece prices I got at the Generics Pharmacy, here’s the damage:
~ Rifampicin, 450 mg - PhP 8.25
~ Isoniazid, 300 mg - PhP 1.30
~ Ethambutol, 2 x 200 mg - PhP 4.20 each
~ PZA or P2A, 500 mg - PhP 3.50

Sorry, I’m just reading off the prescription Ate wrote out for me. So this is her daily regimen, which racks up to just a bit over PhP 20.00 a day. Not bad for us who are financially able. Compare that to some of our daily luxuries, right? But the reality of things is that one trip through Starbucks can already mean about a week of life to some who really need it.

So with that, I’d like to once again extend my plea to those of you who’d like to help. Please, please, please? Don’t hesitate to get in touch with me if you already know my contact, or via e-mail, pinoycumeater@yahoo.com.

For now, I remain budget conscious myself, and will draw upon the easy-to-please side of me. But I’ll be trying to do what I can as well. Thank heavens it was payday yesterday. Because money or not, the world will - and should - continue to go ‘round.

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The Verdict

It’s that time of year again. It’s been a long awaited day.

Long due, and long overdue even.

I‘m kinda excited, yes. But with a tinge of anxiety maybe.

It's time. It's time. It’s time to go and get my CD4 count.

I need to have my CD4 count done twice a year, every six months. Supposedly, my schedule is to have it done every February and August. I had been coordinating with a number of people who wanted to tag along with me. There was my calf-caressing friend, who was also due for his CD4 count, and there were two newbies who needed to go to RITM. One needed to get his confirmatory test, while the other already had his confirmatory result with him and was meaning to start his own HIV journey.

If you recall, I got a med refill just in the third week of August. I could have, but purposely didn’t get my CD4 count done that same day just because of the plan we put together. At first, we planned to go on the last Friday of August. Fortunately, I was able to text Ate a couple of days before to advise that I was planning to go. Unfortunately, Ate informed me that they were having problems with the CD4 machine. So I had to call the plan off.

It was a bummer because coordinating four different schedules wasn’t an easy task and at this point all went to waste. Even worse? On the day itself intended to go, Ate texted me that they were able to have the machine fixed. But the advise came only in the afternoon. Too late for the 10:00 am cut off for CD4 batching. Too late as well to even try to salvage our little plan. Argh.

Our little group fell apart. My calf-caressing friend had gone to get his CD4 count alone before I could put together a new plan. One of my newbies couldn’t take a leave from work anytime soon to make the trip. And then there were two. My newbie and I came up with another plan to go September 23rd, a Thursday. We had already both filed our respective leaves from work, and so it was set.

I arrived at the meeting place exactly as planned, 7:00 am at the Ayala MRT station. I was texting constantly with my newbie, and unfortunately, he was running late. It was fine. I sat amidst all the other tambays and waited patiently. In about half an hour, he arrived. Apparently, he had opted to take a cab and got stuck in traffic. Not so bad, there was time to spare, anyway.

So we hopped on a bus to Alabang, as I made sure to point out some landmarks to give him an idea of the route we were taking. We got talking about different things, but nothing too cerebral or serious, as we were both nutritionally challenged and possibly mentally slow, as we had both been fasting wince the evening before in preparation for our blood tests.

We got to RITM past 8:00. We went straight to the clinic. Ate wasn’t there, but our two other nurses were. My purpose there, to get all my tests done, was simple enough. Routine even. But for my newbie, we were really trying to get everything he needed done within the day because it wasn’t easy for him to take leaves from work.

Based on experience, they would have newbies talk with the doctor first, and schedule tests another day. My newbie didn’t have that luxury of time. So I had asked Ate prior to our even planning to go if it would be possible to get everything done in one day. Fortunately, they were willing to give it a shot, with the condition that we show up early, before the cut-off time for the CD4s, and be ready for all the tests, fasting and all.

He sat patiently while waiting for the doctor, while one of our nurses put together all the requests for my blood tests. Apparently, sonce it was the anniversary of my pozzie-ness, a lot of tests would be done in addition to the usual CD4 count, CBC and blood chemistry, especially since my HIV infection came with some “friends“.

First, I needed to get my Hepatitis profile done, apparently to check if my Hepatitis B was still active… although I thought once you had it it’d forever be active. I needed to get a Quantitative RPR done too, to check how my Syphilis infection is doing, or the lack thereof. There were a couple of more tests I needed to pay for. All in all, it totaled to over PhP 2,000.00. Argh. A bit steep, but it was needed and I was prepared.

So took my route through the cashier, to the x-ray section, and onto the lab to have my blood extracted. When my turn came, I tried to make it a good experience, for myself and for everyone. Despite the many times that I’ve had my blood extracted in the past, I’m still not overly excited to have it done. I gave the stack of requests to the med tech on duty, and braced myself.

I joked that my lot of blood tests would seem to correspondingly require a lot of blood. She said it’d take around four vials. Not so bad. So she got going. I turned my head away from the prick as I still get queasy seeing blood flowing. In all fairness, I was able to keep a smile on my face the whole time. It was a mix of thinking positive and feigning courage.

When I was done, I went back to my newbie at the clinic. I passed him at the cashier. Good thing a doctor was on duty that early in the morning. He had already talked with the doctor, and now needed to pay for some of his tests as well. He was actually a bit short in funds, so I lent him some cash. Fortunate that I had enough to be able to. From there, we went to the lab.

Apparently, he was just as bad with needles and blood as I was. Hehehe. I understood completely. I assured him that the med tech on duty was good at what she does. He made it through without problems. Just a bit of stress, that’s all. His x-ray was much easier, of course.

Making it back to the clinic, I got a surprise. They had forgotten one final lab request, one for Hepatitis C. Another prick?! I headed back to the lab. I requested that they allow me to rest a bit before another prick, so they entertained other clients first. The next time they asked if I was ready, I took my seat once again in the pricking chair, ready for another one in the other arm.

I was ready and game, I really was. Fortunately, they said the blood they’d extracted earlier was still enough for the extra test. Though I sighed a sigh of relief, I kidded with the med tech that she missed the chance, considering I was extra generous with blood today. She laughed and retorted the next prick would’ve been one in the jugular. Hehehe. That was fun.

From there, having accomplished everything we needed to do, we headed to Metropolis Star where we were to get a ride back north. We had lunch as well, after deciding we couldn’t last another minute without food. After a quick meal at Jollibee, we were off.

We both were able to nap a bit during the trip back, having been up since so early in the morning. We both got off when we hit Mandaluyong, he to get a ride home, and I to meet up with the hubby in Shangri-la. I accompanied him to have lunch, we had some of our favorite frozen yogurt, and caught a movie... creepy Devil of M. Night Shyamalan. Even though I spent most of the movie with my face buried in his armpit - yes, I’m not so good with horror movies - I’d recommend it.

Oh wait, wait... back to the pertinent issue of the moment. I texted Ate the day after, requesting her to “chismis” our CD4s if and when they became available. She replied promptly. My newbie had a whopping 553. Coolio!

Me? Let’s recap. A year ago, I was at 493. Six months ago, I dropped a bit to 447. And today... the verdict? Drumroll please... 493! Right back where I fell from. Not bad! Now whether I can attribute it to anything from ARVs and stress to love and yoga... only heaven knows. I’m happy. I still want to go past the 500 mark, though. But for now, I’ll take it!

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The Kind of Kindness

If there is any kindness I can show
or any good thing I can do to any fellow being,
let me do it now,
and not deter or neglect it,
as I shall not pass this way again.

- William Penn

Got a text from Papi yesterday, asking for help. Not for him. He wanted to help someone out who was confined at the RITM. Didn’t mention who the person was, what the name was, or what the findings were, but I think what was important was that this person needed help. Papi made clear that it wasn’t a big expense, but that the person was really hard up and could use some help.

I remember how E and I did it for Baby Nathan. We purposely didn’t want to give any cash or hold any cash ourselves from donors, just to eliminate any doubt of where that cash might go. So much intrigues and politics that you gotta deal with just to help a person. But if it makes for less controversies, then I’m all for it.

So I asked Papi for a list of what exactly was needed, which he texted shortly after. I took the initiative to do some research as to what exactly all this stuff was, and passed by a Mercury Drug to ask how much each would cost. Here’s the list.


D5W
D5w is some sort of technical term, which I found out stands for 5% dextrose in water. A 1 litre bottle costs PhP 119.75.

Soluset
This is that tube set for dextrose and intra-venous lines with a clip thingy that’s used to control the flow of the liquids or medicines into the veins. A set costs PhP 338.25.

Insyte (Gauge 22)
I found out this is Peripheral Venous Catheter, whatever that means. When I think catheter, I think “Ouch”. This costs PhP 36.00.

Celecoxib (200 mg)
Web says this is a sulfa non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug. It costs PhP 30.00 each, and he needs 60 pieces.

Neurobion
These are tablets to correct vitamin deficiency. It costs PhP 17.00 each, and he also needs 60 pieces of this.


Aside from these, Papi also mentioned he needs minor stuff like plastic micropore tape, and some daily necessities like food, drinks and actually, some cash for daily expenses.

So there. I’ll try to do what I can. I’m sure Papi’s rallying the troops on his end as well. Like I said, I gave the list for those who would be more comfortable giving in kind. If anyone out there would be willing to help out, let me know. Or if you’re ever in RITM, please coordinate with Ate Ana.

Any help you can give would go a long way, especially if we pool together for this. Give. Spread the word. Pray even. Thanks in advance, on behalf of he or she who needs it.

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New Year, New Gen

Remember the newbie boy who joined us last Saturday at our post-Christmas thing? He’d actually just been diagnosed in November at a private clinic, and had been referred to San Lazaro Hospital. But armed with some concerns which I won’t discuss in detail, he wanted to know his other options. So I volunteered to take him to RITM. We had agreed to go on December 28th, Monday, but he begged off at the last minute as he wasn’t feeling well. Bummer.

But I decided to go visit RITM all the same, since I needed to take some gifts from Positivism for the people there. Besides, my new BFF GreenFrog was planning to go as well. So I made the trip. There, I left my package with Ate, and waited for word from the BFF. While waiting, Ate introduced me to the only other pusit who was there. Surprisingly, upon hearing my name, he had this funny look on his face as if it meant something. Hmm. His name sounded familiar to me as well.

After some questions and answers, we figured out that I had been chatting and texting with him and his friend since he got diagnosed late this year. So he was sort of one of my “kids”. We’d finally met. Funny coincidence, don’t cha think? He also lives a stone’s throw away from where BFF and I do, so I thought he could come along on our next “northern exposure”.

From there, he tagged along with me to the lounge-slash-clinic to meet GreenFrog and another of our Saturday night friends. Together, the four of us had an early lunch at Festival Mall, from where we all headed back up north. I spent the afternoon resting, during which I got a text from my newbie boy requesting I accompany him to RITM the next day. Two days at the RITM in a week? Well, I had nothing else planned, so, okay.

The following day I ran a few errands early in the morning before heading to meet my newbie at the Ayala MRT station. Within an hour, we were at RITM. He wasn’t exactly decided on signing up with RITM just yet. He was just planning on conducting an ocular so he’d have some options to weigh. But based on how well he fit into our little Saturday group, several of us agreed he belonged at the RITM. Not that we’re exclusive to some type or something, but he’d instantly be armed with a headstart of six friends should he decide on the RITM to be his HIV hub.

Upon getting there and heading to the clinic, guess who I chanced upon there? It was U! It was my U! If you don’t remember U, he’s the guy who introduced me to the RITM back when I was clueless as to where to go. So it was U and I, and... let’s christen my newbie as a new alphabet friend... let’s call him W. So it was U, W and I. Amazing.

Do you realize why it was so amazing for me? In one room, I had U, the guy who brought me to the RITM, and W, the latest guy I brought to the RITM. So if W was my “kid”, this sort of makes U my “dad”. Hehe. Three generations of pusit-dom seems like such a rare and amazing thing. Hehehe. Ok sige, mababaw na ako kung mababaw.

Evident in the teasing that ensued between U and I in the presence of Ate and W, this is really all about paying it forward. U helped me start my HIV journey with RITM, and I ought to pay that generosity forward. I know I’ve paid it forward a lot already. Hell, I’m the butt of jokes for being one of the culprits behind the increasing pozzie population at the RITM. I mean, I’m not infecting people, but rather, I just seem to be easy to find, I guess, for those who are about to begin their HIV journeys. Or maybe it’s all fate? Whatever it is, I do what I can in my personal capacity to help.

So going back to W, to my surprise, within about an hour of our getting there, he had undergone a bit of counselling, signed up, surrendered what test results he had, and gotten blood samples taken for other preliminary tests. And with that, W was official. I hated how I came under fire when the counselling got to the part of disclosing to someone in the family. Hehe. Ate knows I haven’t told anyone just yet. And Ate made sure she made googly eyes at me when it came to that part. Again, no pressure, but it was advised. Argh.

From there, U, W and I headed on back north together, as I said goodbye to each of them as they got off at their respective MRT stations and I made it home as well. It’s been a long day. I needed to rest. Hell, it’s been a long year. My first full year living with HIV is now over. Can you believe it? I can.

If my condition at the exact stroke of New Year is any indication of how this year will be, well then I’m gonna be sleepy and woozy with ARVs the whole 2010. Healthy, happy, horny and hungover. That ain’t such a bad thing, right? Anyway, I look forward to more years to come.

But for now, this is it. I really haven’t been counting, but W will definitely my last “kid” for the year. Quota na ako. Quotang quota na... for 2009, at least. Year 2010? That may be a whole other story. Pay it forward will go forward. More new years, more new generations. So for now, let me wish a hell of a Healthy, Happy, Horny and Hungover New Year to all!

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A Glitch in the System

Some weeks ago, I got a text message. An unknown number said something like, “Your schedule for CD4 will be on November 17. Please do come as your slot may be given to others.” Nothing else followed, but it was signed with a couple of familiar names from the RITM.

You’d think I’d had enough CD4 counts done for this to be something routine. But... it was the farthest from it.

I didn’t doubt the veracity of the message, even though it came from an unknown number. But my first instinct was that this message was just missent. Why? Basically, I’ve fallen into the routine of having my CD4 count monitored every 6 months. So since I started my ARVs at the RITM, I’ve had it done August 2008, February 2009 and August 2009. So my logic was telling me November 2009 was not next in the series.

So I chanced upon Red Apple Black Mark online, a blogger friend who happened to be at the RITM one time. So I asked him to confirm with the personnel whether they had really scheduled me. I remember telling him to point out that my next CD4 wasn’t due till February next year. I thought it’d be easier to have it clarified person to person.

After a few minutes, he came back and confirmed that, yes, I was indeed scheduled for a CD4 count November 17th. When I had him ask why, he was told that it was complicated, and would just be discussed with me when I got there myself. What the?!

That’s when my paranoia kicked in. Why couldn’t they tell me why they needed to monitor my CD4 just three months after my last? It was a valid question, I believe, right? So knowing my personality, I needed to know. I needed for it to make sense. Was there something wrong? My CD4 did go up a number of points last time, from 484 to 493. Was the improvement not enough? Was it a concern? Did they find something else? Why was I not told? Believe me, my mind was going berserk. Was it the funding problem? Did they need to have tests done while supply lasted? Were they unsure that they’d still be able to do the tests next year? I just had too many questions that needed answers.

I talked to E about it, knowing that he is aware that I can be paranoid sometimes. He mentioned he’d be going to the RITM the following week to visit. So I couldn’t pass up the chance to have him confirm... yet again... whether I indeed was scheduled for a CD4 count. And I asked him to badger them with whys. I just needed to know why.

So he went, and he asked... At first he irked me saying it was something that needed to be discussed in person. Good thing he took his joke back. He was told I was one of those who was undergoing special monitoring as part of some research of Doktora. Some sort of Taser or Genotyping ek-ek. Hmm. Two words came to mind: Guinea Pig. But having a scientific background myself, it came across more like an honor. Those two words were enough to answer my questions.

So from that time on, November 17th was marked on my calendar. I was joking with E and GreenMan that I was part of a special group. If RITM was a school, I was a Dean’s lister. The chosen one. Proud, proud, proud.

So November 17th came, and my morning routine commenced an hour earlier than usual, so I’d be sure to get to RITM before the 9:00 am deadline. I think I got there at 8:30, with Ate pointing me to the back office to get my lab request from the people there. As I did, the lady there said she’d do one final check on her computer records. Nuneenuneenu... yes Madam, you should find me on that Dean’s list.

With her back still to me, she pointed out that I was still updated on my CD4 counts. Of course I am, I said to myself. And then she said I wasn’t due for another CD4 till February... and that I could go.

WTF?! My jaw dropped. The worst part, she was too matter-of-fact... very unapologetic. I don’t know exactly what expression I had on my face, but I was trying hard to stay positive. Did I just waste my morning for nothing?! Were my instincts spot on from the beginning?! My mind was spinning again, I was borderline angry already. Angry but trying to keep a smile on my face. I'm sure this mistake wasn't unavoidable. It’s no joke travelling from Quezon City to Alabang for nothing.

I made my way to the front office to Ate. Why? Because that was my comfort zone at the RITM. Getting there, she was surprised that I had had my test done so quickly. I told her what I was told. Ate sighed, and sat down and explained. She gave me the apology I needed.

She explained that the task of scheduling CD4 counts had been taken from her and passed on to someone else, which apparently wasn’t going too well. Just that day, already three of us had made unnecessary trips only to find out that a mistake had been made. She was just sooooo apologetic about the whole thing, even though it wasn’t her fault. She was apologizing for the glitch in the system. I felt her sincerity. And with that, I cooled down, just happy to have an excuse to visit the RITM.

From there, I headed off back north... late for work for a reason that was valid but totally unnecessary. Fine. This was one day that half of me wanted to forget. I’m sure I’m not the only one to have experienced this. So just be forewarned. They’re undergoing some administrative changes right now at the RITM, and may, may, may just need some extra patience from us. My lesson learned? Trust your instincts... and patience is suuuuuch a virtue. Hopefully they’ll get through this glitch soon enough. Peace out...

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Say A Lil Prayer

God, Jesus, Mama Mary, the Holy Spirit, Saint Joseph, Saint James, Saint John, Saint Francis, Saint Peter, Saint Catherine, Saint Bernard, Saint Ignatius, Saint Andrew, Saint Gregory, Saint Josephine, Saint Therese, Saint Charles, Saint Paul, Saint Patrick, Saint Jude, Saint Dominic, Saint Vincent, Saint Matthew, Saint Margaret, Saint Louis, Saint Claire, Saint Michael, Saint Genevieve, San Lorenzo Ruiz, even Santa Claus and San Miguel, please help us call on them now.

A fellow pozzie is in need. I got a text message from Ate earlier in the week asking for prayers for a certain person’s recovery. I sort of just guessed that it was probably a pozzie, but it didn’t seem like it was someone who I knew personally. It would’ve just made me sound like an ass to have to ask who the hell this person was. So whoever he was, I had him in my prayers.

Again, I don’t usually pray, and when I do, it’s almost never at times when I need something for myself. It’s usually during times when I have much to thank Him for, or when I have other persons’ intentions in mind.

Last night, I got a text message from E also asking me to pray for the same person. I replied to his message asking who the person was this time… plus I was curious too as to why this person was seemingly worthy enough for E to take him on as his personal cause. E isn’t usually the mushy type to just forward text messages for no reason. There had to be a story behind it.

So I managed to catch E online later in the evening, and I got the answers to my questions. Apparently, this person was one of the readers of E’s blog, who had the guts to get tested. Unfortunately, he turned out to be HIV-positive. Worse, his baseline CD4 count revealed a result in the double digits… in the line of 20s. I know, tragic.

Now, a low CD4 won’t always mean that you’re suffering. Just that your immune system is really down and really susceptible to infections. I’ve seen some pozzies with CD4 counts also in the double digits, but who were in generally good physical health. But this person, apparently, wasn’t that lucky.

Aside from the low CD4 count, he was now confined at the RITM, afflicted with some sort of infection that is still yet to be identified. It has already wreaked havoc, causing him to lose his ability to speak, and I think even his eyesight has been affected. It’s such a mystery what’s causing it, and I’m tempted to think that it’s some infection that might be affecting the brain… trust me, having been diagnosed with syphilis has forced me to read more about neurosyphilis, a severe complication if the infection remains unchecked, and I realize that certainly, anything that can affect the brain is scary.

So with that, we ask for your help. Nope, no need for money or medicines. E has already been able to round up some support to have the guy undergo an MRI, hopefully to identify what’s causing everything.

E was saying that more on emotional support and prayers are needed, both for the guy and his family who is at his side. Personally, I advice against flowers for now, considering that they might harbor some allergens and stuff that might not be good for the patient and his present condition. E was thinking more on cards or letters with words of encouragement, and maybe balloons to liven up the stark room at the RITM.

We seriously doubt if it would be possible for hospital visits to happen. He’s pretty new to the whole HIV thing, so he might not be comfortable having random strangers drop by. I’m thinking maybe to course stuff through Ate, or through E, who did say he’d be dropping by sometime.

So there. I really felt how much concern E had for the guy, and how hard it was for him not to be able to do anything that could really ease the guy’s suffering. And so if this is any help, I’m with E in this campaign. Please do at least pray that he recovers. Thanks everyone.

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D Kumare

There’s just something about this month of May that’s been keeping me on my toes all the time. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or not that it’s finally coming to a close.

But one good thing that happened in May was that I met someone. I met Mr. D.

D started off stalking this blog in April probably. We chatted for just a day or two, if I remember right, before we talked on the phone. The first really memorable conversation between D and I was actually... phone sex. Teehee. O, don’t judge us, we were just having fun.

For me it was certainly the safest sex that could be had. For him it was just red hot fireworks to usher in my special day. So certainly, there was some sexual tension between us. And thanks to Yahoo! Messenger and unlimited calls, we kept in touch. No commitments or anything of that sort, mind you.

Shortly after, we decided to meet. He offered to pick me up after work. As I spotted the make and color of the car I was looking out for, I hopped in. He had always been modest about his looks, but as I lay my eyes on my new friend, he was as hot, sexy and yummilicious as I thought he would be. Roarrr.

D and I had a scrumptuous dinner of my favorite pizza and pasta combo, and a lively chat over some juice to cap off the evening. And then it was confirmed. I had fallen... I had fallen into the kumare-zone. Hehehe. Well, more like he put me there. I still pegged him as my hot, sexy and yummilicious friend. Nothing bad about that, right?

So anyway, after that, we still kept in touch. D and I would always be badgering each other daily over YM, mostly just joking around and making fun of people and each other. And because we had developed an air of comfort and trust between us, he was one of those who stood witness to my May mood swings, including the time I fell sick and my emo-bitter moments. I reckon he’s a professional okray-therapist.

I’d like to believe I was there for him as well, as in one conversation we had, he mentioned he’d been wanting to get tested for HIV for the past year or so, but never had the guts to. He admitted he’d never gotten tested before, and certainly had some reasons for concern. So I promised I’d accompany him to get tested at the RITM, as I’d need to go and get a med refill anyway.

I accompanied him Monday to get tested, and he accompanied me to get my ARV supply. It was pretty straight forward, although I did go through a couple of prayers while his blood was being extracted. Contrary to expected, I still do not like finding out people are HIV-positive. It’s still not a case of the-more-the-merrier.

I got tasked to badger Ate daily after that to check whether the results were ready. D and I both had the freaky notion that if the results weren’t out within the week, something must be wrong. Hehehe. I think my paranoia rubbed off on him.

Finally, Friday came. Ate had advised me beforehand that the results should be ready by then. I took the afternoon off from work to go with D. We had lunch prior to going, but he really didn’t have an appetite worrying about his results. Getting there, we waited impatiently at Ate’s desk for the results. D’s anxiety was making me anxious as well. He was unusually quiet, and I just didn’t know how to appease him. Finally, someone delivered a couple of envelopes to Ate. I recognized D’s codename on one of them.

Ate called him over to one of the other desks. Initially he had wanted me to read the results for him, but I told him he had to do it himself... besides I couldn’t take the tension either. I watched his reaction from afar as Ate opened the envelope and showed him the results. All I saw was it seemed he felt the needed to sit down after seeing it. Was it good? Was it bad? Geez, I needed to know.

Non-reactive. Negative. D heaved his sigh of relief. I did too. And we hugged. I got what I had been praying for... his negative result... and the hug na rin. Hahaha.

It didn’t take long before D snapped back to his fun old self. And since he would still need a follow-up test to cover the window period, I needed to ask if he felt it might be easier going for the second test. I had no reference of my own, because I never got to a second test, remember?

For now, D and I remain good friends. I think we’ve fallen further into that kumare-zone where we no longer have reputations to live up to between us, and we’ve managed to share all our dirty little secrets. Well, almost all. Getting there, I guess.

We even have some magic words which just crack us up, like pakbet, belt, carwash, and thighs. Hehehe. Don’t even ask. But really, considering it’s been barely even a month, I do hope this is just the beginning of a happy, comfortable, and fun friendship. D. My friend. My kumare. My source of okray-therapy. Hot, sexy, yummilicious D.

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My Secret

Going for my CD4 count last week, I had previously heard cases of CD4s going up and down by over 150 points. With that in mind, the least that I was really wishing for was that it not go down and I be told that my ARVs weren’t working, and that they’d possibly have to be changed, which would mean another round of trials and adjustments.

Truth be told, upon receiving the slip of paper from Ate where she’d written our CD4 counts, I read it initially as 404. And with that, I was happy enough. But noticing a little loop on top of what I thought was a zero, Ate confirmed that indeed, it was an eight that she had written, making it a 484. That just left me even more amazed.

So with that accomplishment, I’ve been asked what my secret was. How did I do it? Geesh, honestly, I don’t know. Let me think.

When it came to food, I didn’t really make many changes. I’ve consciously been trying to eat more, increasing my rice intake from one a meal to 1½ or sometimes even 2 cups a meal. I’m still eating anything and everything there is. Rice, bread, pasta, pork, beef, chicken, fish... even fruits and vegetables.

I’ve always been a veggie eater, which I’ve heard is a good thing. My favorite? Gisadong ampalaya. Yum. I get that once a week from the little canteen near where I work. Luckily, ampalaya or bitter gourd was the particular vegetable that the resident counselor at the RITM says is good for people like us living with HIV. I don’t exactly know why that is. But I might be a testament to its efficacy.

Surprisingly, I’m choosier when it comes to fruits. First of all, I only like the fruits that I grew up knowing. I don’t enjoy “seedy” fruits either. And I hate the smell of oranges and the like. That leaves me with mango cheeks, canned pineapples, fruit cocktails, peach halves, seedless grapes, raisins and bananas.

I did try to get into a milk phase earlier into my ARVs. I started off with a glass of milk every night, but was overcome by my long-standing fear of milk causing me diarrhea, so I reduced my intake to just over the weekends, or with cereals for snacks. But I’ve just gotten too lazy. I’m now only able to take milk when I feel like it, when I remember it, and when I put my mind to it.

Food supplements are zero at the moment. I started off taking multivitamins, but ran out of them back in November. Anyone ever notice how expensive they are? So anyway, since that time, I haven’t gotten back to taking them. Despite that, I’m doing pretty good I think. I noticed I haven’t been catching coughs or colds as easily as before.

Alcohol intake is still the same as before, occasional. I did say I had my fair share of drinking during the holidays, but since that, almost nothing, which is normal for me. After the new year, the next taste of it I had was a single bottle of beer up in Tagaytay. That’s been the last, too.

I do believe that getting enough rest is a big factor. I’ve always been an eight-hour a day sleeper, and I make my zzz quota maybe 90% of the time. That’s just the way I was built, I’m practically useless past my bedtime. On weekends, I even sneak in afternoon naps when I can.

And then of course, there’s the compliance with medications. I’m still on Isoniazid, a tuberculosis prophylactic, which the Doctor put me on for nine months. It was fortunate, having been possibly exposed to tuberculosis when I found out that a couple of job applicants at work flunked their medical exams because of it.

As for the ARVs, I’m proud to say I have never missed a day of taking them. I’ll admit though that sometimes the timing becomes a problem, especially when I’m with people to whom I’d rather not explain what exactly all the tablets are for, or when I’m caught on the way home and would rather not risk drinking water from heaven-knows-where just to gulp them down. I think the most that I’ve missed my daily schedule by was maybe two to three hours. But shhhhh, don’t rat me out, okay?

Those factors might just be the tip of the iceberg. Of course, there are all the psychological, emotional, and maybe even sexual factors that might come into play. Heaven knows which ones I’m doing right, and which ones I’m not. In any case, I still believe thinking and living positively go a long, long way. My secret is out.

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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!

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Overflow

I took another day off today from work, intending to go for this month’s med reload. To beat a deadline, I spent the morning going to and from Pampanga to submit some reports for work. After having lunch at home, I was on my way to RITM in Alabang. I got there at about 3:00 in the afternoon.

Walking to the building, I saw Ate going towards the other office with a bilao of pansit. She didn’t notice me and I wasn’t exactly there for the food, so I still headed for the clinic, expecting someone else was there while Ate was gone. But it was locked. So I reluctantly headed for the back office in the other building, dreading that I might walk into a celebration of some sort. I got to the door of the office, but the shy boy in me took over and I chickened out. I turned and walked back to the clinic and stood out on the corridor waiting for someone to show up.

After about 10 minutes, Ate passed by and I lurked closely behind. She welcomed me and asked how I was doing, and relayed to me how thankful Baby Nathan’s Dad was when they last came in for a check-up. I just laughed and smiled, not knowing exactly how to accept credit that wasn’t completely mine to take.

She took my Regimen Card from a pile, and told me to wait while she got my ARVs from the pharmacy. I was enjoying the time alone, when a familiar face showed up. It was Y. He seemed to recognize me and after a few minutes of awkwardness, I reminded him that we’d first met at San Lazaro back in April. Apparently he’d been confused whether he really met me there or it was just his imagination. He laughed finally realizing we went way back.

A while later, Ate came back with my ARVs, and a couple of more guys I’d met before came in to hang out. Together we trekked to the other office, and I was comfortable to be going with someone I knew. Stepping in, there were around 10 of us there. And after introductions all around, it was time to chow.

I honestly didn’t get to eat much, just like at the Christmas party, and I think I get that way when there’s a lot going on. And with everyone breaking up into pairs or little groups talking about everything under the sun, the observer in me was trying to take all the information in.

At one point, Ate walked into the office with a bunch of ARV supplies, where I noticed some big green boxes that I could not compare to the ARVs I’m getting now. My eagle eye didn’t fail me, and I read the label which said Protease Inhibitor, another type of ARV which was not part of my own regimen. I’m not really sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. But seeing how the container was comparable in size with a can of Pringles made me think twice about being envious.

One of the things that struck me most came from one of the last persons to walk into that room. Let’s call her S. S is HIV positive, and she got it from her husband who worked overseas as a seafarer, one of the at-risk groups for HIV. If I understood right, she was single now, either because she was widowed or divorced. She mentioned she had also lost a child, but I wasn’t brave enough to ask whether the kid was also HIV positive.

I actually first encountered her back in May or June amidst the standoff I was having with the San Lazaro doctors, when an online poz friend suggested I transfer to RITM and gave me her name and contact number in case I needed assistance. I never got to contact her that time, since I met U soon thereafter, who brought me to RITM.

Apparently, S is part of one of the HIV support groups, and she discussed the issues with the ARV supplies with us who were there. Apparently, the Global Fund grant that is in motion today is meant to supply the Philippines with ARVs and support up to 2010. But the wheels are already in motion for the country to qualify for another round of grants for the years after that.

The worst case, she says, is that there is an agreement between the Department of Health and the Philippine Health Insurance Company, or PhilHealth wherein PhilHealth is to shoulder ARVs for a number of years. Although I didn’t understand completely, she kept mentioning the word cooperative, and how the cooperative would eventually become self-sufficient and self-sustaining in being able to fund the need for ARVs. I’m imagining it’s a cooperative formed by and composed of those living with HIV and AIDS. If that happens, it would be very empowering, don’t you think?

So anyways, with so many details to remember and so much to think about, I was about ready to head home. I hitched a ride with and a couple of the guys, and S and another lady from another HIV support group left with us as well. S told more stories, about how she recovered from to skin and bones, and about how she was part of the group that lobbied for the grants that now provide us free ARVs, and that back in 2002, there was none to speak of. It was humbling to be in the presence of one of our apparent heroes who paved the way for us who currently live with HIV in the Philippines to be able to do just that. To live.

I, S and her lady friend got dropped off at Shangri-la Mall, where we chatted for a good 20 minutes more right smack in the middle of the sidewalk. S and I exchanged numbers, and she said that if I needed help in disclosing to members of my family, they would be very much willing to help. She did, thankfully, acknowledge that disclosing was a difficult thing and should happen in my own right time. She was also convincing me to consider getting involved in the HIV support groups, oblivious to how much I’ve already been dabbling in the field of advocacy. She used the metaphor of stepping out of my locked box, which I took to be my HIV closet, and I wasn’t planning to brag about how far out of my closet I’ve been strolling either. She probably didn’t know that there were people from her side of the fence that actually tried to keep me in my closet.

I dunno if it was the Bikolano blood in us both, but I felt a good pure vibe in S, despite her being part of one of the now seemingly notorious HIV advocacy groups. I was elated at how she explained the issues behind the future of our ARV supplies, which she did much better than the wicked Remedios lady that I watched on TV back in December. So with that, we went our separate ways and I headed home with another day of information overload, my first for 2009.

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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!

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What About Me?!

The past few posts have all been about Baby Nathan. Baby Nathan, Baby Nathan, Baby Nathan. It’s all been about Baby Nathan.

What about me? I have HIV too, you know? How have I been doing? This is my blog, remember?

Okay, since you asked, I’ll tell you. It’s been seven months since I found out I’m HIV positive. I’ve been on anti-retrovirals or ARVs for the past three months. And I’m doing pretty good.

My weight is steady at around 140 pounds. No other allergic reactions to my ARVs. I’m due for another Quantitative RPR test in December, to make sure my Syphilis has gone or is going away.

My last test results came out a month ago, which was a Hepatitis B viral load count. I didn’t know what to think when I saw the result was over 100,000 units per milliliter. I was just relieved it was far from the maximum detectable level, which was in the hundreds of millions of units per milliliter. And showing it to the doctor at the RITM, she kept me for under a minute, pointing out it was just a baseline count to begin with. She reassured me that two of my three ARVs were acting against the Hepa B virus as well, which I knew already from doing research. She told me I’d need to redo the test six months after, in March, which I’m not exactly looking forward to, because it cost me over PhP 5,000.00. But considering all the other freebies I’m getting, it’s not that bad. I just need to start saving up for it little by little.

I had a bad cold again a couple of weeks ago. No thanks to my mom, who doesn’t have enough etiquette to cover her mouth when she coughs, nor to my boss, who just won’t take a break from work to get well no matter how bad her flu, nor to my selfish colleague at work, who would rather have everyone else freeze to death from the air-conditioning than turn an electric fan her way, just to douse her hot flashes and cool her menopausal vajayjay. Geesh. Fortunately I’ve recovered without having to medicate further. I did notice though, that whenever I get sick like that, it manifests further in the form of breakouts on my face. How bad is it? Let’s just say a colleague of mine wanted to play connect-the-dots on my face. Argh.

All this ranting might just take its toll on my CD4 Count, so you know what... I should get back to talking about Baby Nathan instead. Here’s the latest update.

Another donor sent a bit of money for the medicines and supplies of the baby. I was meaning to go sometime this weekend, so I called Ate yesterday to find out what exactly he needed. She said the baby was doing fine, and fortunately, so much help has been pouring in directly, that the baby still had enough of everything he needed. So she told me to hold on to the money in the meantime, and that she’d send me a text message if some sort of a need for it came up. She did mention that the mom has started working somewhere, and was already able to support the family’s needs when it came to food. Still no final word on when exactly they’re gonna get discharged.

So there, let’s end this on a positive note, and leave it at that. Thanks for letting me rant. Hahaha, like you have a choice. Let’s just all enjoy what’s left of the weekend. Ciao!

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Bye to Zido

IUPAC name 1-4-azido-5-hydroxymethyl tetrahydrofuran-2-yl-5-methylpyrimidine-2,4-dione. Formula C10H13N5O4. Zidovudine or azidothymidine (AZT), also called ZDV is a nucleoside analog reverse transcriptase inhibitor (NRTI), a type of antiretroviral drug. It was the first approved for treatment of HIV. It is also sold under the names Retrovir and Retrovis, and as an ingredient in Combivir, Epzicom and Trizivir.

Zidovudine was the first drug approved for the treatment of AIDS and HIV infection. Jerome Horwitz of Barbara Ann Karmanos Cancer Institute and Wayne State University School of Medicine first synthesized AZT in 1964, under a US National Institutes of Health (NIH) grant. AZT was originally intended to treat cancer, but was shelved after it proved ineffective in treating cancer in mice.

In February 1985, Samuel Broder, Hiroaki Mitsuya, and Robert Yarchoan, three scientists in the National Cancer Institute (NCI), collaborating with Janet Rideout and several other scientists at Burroughs Wellcome (now GlaxoSmithKline), started working on it as an AIDS drug. After showing that this drug was an effective agent against HIV in vitro, the NCI team conducted the initial phase 1 clinical trial that provided evidence that it could increase CD4 counts in AIDS patients.

Modern treatment regimens typically use lower dosages (e.g. 300 mg) two times a day. As of 1996, AZT, like other antiretroviral drugs, is almost always used as part of highly active antiretroviral therapy (HAART). That is, it is combined with other drugs in order to prevent mutation of HIV into an AZT-resistant form.

Common side effects of AZT include nausea, headache, changes in body fat, and discoloration of fingernails and toenails. More severe side effects include anemia and bone marrow suppression, which can be overcome using erythropoietin or darbepoetin treatments. These unwanted side effects might be caused by the sensitivity of the alpha-DNA polymerase in the cell mitochondria. AZT has been shown to work additively or synergistically with many anti-HIV agents; however, acyclovir and ribavirin decrease the antiviral effect of AZT. Drugs that inhibit hepatic glucuronidation, such as indomethacin, acetylsalicylic acid (Aspirin) and trimethoprim, decrease the elimination rate and increase the toxicity.

AZT does not destroy the HIV infection, but only delays the progression of the disease and the replication of virus, even at very high doses. During prolonged AZT treatment HIV has the ability to gain an increased resistance to AZT by mutation of the reverse transcriptase. A study showed that AZT could not impede the resumption of virus production, and eventually cells treated with AZT produced viruses as much as the untreated cells. So as to slow the development of resistance, it is generally recommended that AZT be given in combination with another reverse transcriptase inhibitor and an antiretroviral from another group, such as a protease inhibitor or a non-nucleoside reverse transcriptase inhibitor.

I had been on my first month on the Lamivudine+Zidovudine combination, so I had been scheduled by the doctor yesterday for a complete blood count. I took the afternoon off from work, and trekked to the RITM, getting there at exactly 2:00 pm. I was sent straight to the lab to have my blood extracted, so the results would be available the same time the doctor was ready to meet me. I never realized it took as little as less than 30 minutes to complete a CBC lab test. Technology rocks.

After hanging out a couple of hours with the other clients there, even having an afternoon snack with the regular counselor, the results were finally realeased and the doctor had finished all the other clients before me. I was a bit surprised by the verdict, another change in medication. The doctor and Ate discussed a bit and agreed they were to make the change. Apparently, my Hemoglobin count had dropped from 140+ units to 100+ units, a side effect of Zidovudine. Ate even pointed out that my lips were a bit pale, something I never noticed myself. The doctor looked under my lower eyelid, and said it still wasn't too noticeable. But yes, they'd shift me over to another medication.

I hadn't brought what was left of my Lamu+Zido meds, so I promised I'd bring it on my next visit. I was given in place of it, solo Lamivudine tablets, plus the new one, Tenofovir, under the brand name Viread. It all seemed like a great move, as the doctor pointed out I'd just have to drink all three of my medications once a day in the evening. One tablet of Efavirenz, two tiny tablets of Lamivudine, and one teardrop-shaped tablet of Tenofovir. Not too bad. When I asked if I'd need to watch out for any side effects, the doctor said there are none. Even better.

So last night, I started my new nightly habit. The doctor advised me to comeback after about three months for another CBC, just to make sure my Hemoglobin has bounced back, but no other problems should be encountered. Hopefully, things will be all good.

Goodbye, Zidovudine.

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Dream, Dream, Dream

I haven’t really been able to blog lately, not by any choice of my own, I was just literally physically unable to blog.

I had taken the trip out to the RITM mid-week last week. Half of my purpose was to introduce my new friend to the RITM, as he’d be starting his own journey very soon. The other half of my purpose was to update them on how I was doing with my meds.

I had started my double dose September 2nd, and was experiencing low-grade fevers the two days following. Sadly we didn’t catch the doctor, since she had a personal emergency she had needed to take care of. Instead Ate contacted her via mobile, and it was agreed that I’d try to continue the medication, and if anything else comes up or gets worse, I’d just inform them and they’d decide whether I was to stop or not.

And indeed, worse was it. Friday caught me down with the weather at work, where I was struggling to get through even the final few hours at work. I had a fever, which felt worse than my usual. I didn’t have my thermometer with me, so I had no way of telling. I had even gone up to the lobby of an upper floor to rest my eyes. I was feeling that bad.

Getting home, I locked myself in my room, and my trusty thermometer read a 39-degree fever. Still I wouldn’t give up and continued taking my medicines that evening.

Saturday morning came, and I still had the fever, this time it was up to 40 degrees. I realized that my thermometer could only read up to 42 degrees, so I was pretty alarmed. I didn’t even mind that it was just 7 in the morning, I sent a text message to Ate, to which she immediately replied for me to stop the Nevirapine and report to the RITM come Monday.

You’d think my problems were over, but the fever was hell. I felt half-dead and half-dying. Having no airconditioning, no fan, layered with a sweater and a blanket did nothing. The chills were coming from deep inside. I felt I needed to swallow a blanket or kill whatever vents were inside me. I just felt helpless.

I was locked in my room most of the weekend, tossing and turning in discomfort, sneaking in an occasional cold shower to disperse the fever I was experiencing. Monday, I called in to work sick, and just headed to the RITM in the afternoon. I still had a significant fever, and my body just felt so heavy. Each step felt ten times more of an effort to make. I figure I must’ve been walking like I had a hangover.

The verdict? The doctor concluded I was showing allergic reactions to the Nevirapine. Though I didn’t really see signs of being counted as the 103rd Dalmatian, the doctor did notice I was reddish around the face, something which I do not normally get, as I can only be dark or darker. I was just lucky enough I guess that it was an even color, something less noticeable that the kinds of rashes I’ve seen.

I ended up surrendering what Nevirapine I had left, which was one unopened bottle and about half of another, trading it in for my new best friend, Efavirenz. Yes, yes, the dreaming drug. One huge difference is that it’s only taken once a day. Some things I was told to watch out for are dizziness and the dreams, of course. Some people describe the dreams as very realistic, in full-color, plus they say the dreams are usually resumed in cases where you wake up in the middle of one. The doctor also warned me that in standard drug tests, Efavirenz causes false positives for Marijuana, which is never a good thing. So if ever the need arises, it should be advised to the laboratory prior, so they can proceed to a confirmatory test, for which it should turn out negative. Good thing I’m not due to get my license renewed for another three years.

As I’m writing this, I’m feeling a bit better. Less of a headache, and lower fever. I’m hoping this is a good sign, so I can report back to work tomorrow. For now, I’m almost due for my first dose of my new regimen. And boy, am I ready to dream!

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My Long Weekend

Yesterday, August 18 was a holiday in the Philippines, a rescheduling of Ninoy Aquino Day. A long weekend for most. But I had a longer weekend than the rest. I took the day off today, not for a vacation, but to pay the RITM another visit.

Today, I was out of the house by 7:30 am. My appointment at the RITM was still in the afternoon, but I had my day all planned out. I first made my way to the Social Hygiene Clinic at the Manila Health Department, primarily to have my fecalysis and quantitative RPR done, but also to pay the dear doctors a visit.

Only Dr. Diana Mendoza was there, attending to a younger group getting tested for something. After she was done, she looked my way and immediately recognized and greeted me. She asked me if I needed anything, guessing my quantitative RPR almost magically. I nodded, and asked if they did stool tests as well. She said yes, and immediately asked Kuya, the utility guy to run to the lab and request that they do my fecalysis, apparently because I had arrived past the deadline for accepting samples. She wrote out my lab referrals, taking those given to me by the RITM. I had gone there knowing that they conducted the tests for less than the usual cost, but surprisingly, Dr. Diana endorsed them and they were given for free! Lucky me!

So down I went to the lab, where they extracted some blood, and literally took the shit outta me. Well I had my stool sample ready, and had been checking constantly on the way there if it was already stinking up my bag. I was glad to leave my crap there. On the way out, Dr. Diana asked me how I was, complimenting that I looked good. I thanked her and headed off, saying I’d call for a follow-up of the results. This will truly always be my first HIV home.

From there, I took the LRT out to EDSA, and the MRT to Magallanes, where I made my way again via bus to the Alabang area. Arriving in Alabang early, I took my lunch first at Jollibee, a local counterpart of McDonald’s, craving from everything from a Champ to a Jolly Spaghetti, but eventually settling for a Palabok and a large order of Fries. Yum. Not being known for slow eating, I was done in about 20 minutes, with still more time to spare before my afternoon appointment, so I checked out the Alabang Starmall while waiting, but found nothing much to see after less than an hour. It was past 12 noon, so I decided to just head for the RITM and hang out there.

Getting to the RITM, I headed for the OPD room, finding only Ate there. She showed me my CD4 results… 328. I then apologized for being too early, and ushered her off to lunch while offering to man her post somewhat. Sitting there alone, I started computing:

2 months ago, CD4 count = 343
Present, CD4 count = 328
Difference = 15
Decrease = 15 / 2 months = 7.5 per month
At that rate, I would reach the critical CD4 level of 200 after… 1 year, 5 months

Am I obsessed with math or what?! I was meaning for that computation to help me decide whether or not to start on ARVs, but thought maybe my logic didn’t apply to this case, so I shoved it all out the window and just cleared my head.

Shortly after, Ate arrived, as well as some other clients. One has been living positive for 15 years, and was doing voluntary counseling for other clients there. One was like me, CD4 above 300, had never been on ARVs, but wished to start. One was just weeks on ARVs and having his side effects checked. Another one was new, first time at the RITM, armed only with his test results for being positive with HIV. We all got talking while waiting for the doctor, and came to a point where we were sharing our experiences with the newbie, who was clearly still unable to accept his condition. I honestly think it helped him a lot being with and talking to others like him, as he really calmed down and opened up by the time the doctor came around.

Being the first one there, I was served first, as the doctor showed me again my CD4 results. She told me all my other tests were clear, and asked me again whether or not I wanted to start on ARVs. Without flinching, I said yes.

So here I am, in bed with my medicines beside me. One tablet is a combination of Lamivudine and Zidovudine, to be taken twice a day at 12 hour intervals. The doctor guaranteed there are no usual side effects. The other tablet however, Nevirapine, is a different story. Usual side effects are rashes, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, plus nightmares and hallucinations, i think. I’m supposed to take it once a day for the next two weeks, and guard for the side effects. If everything is good, it increases to twice a day, monitoring closely again for another two weeks. I saw one client there who had the rashes from this same tablet, so I know what to look out for. U says he had the same reaction to it as well. Sigh.

Okay it’s exactly 9:30 pm now, and here goes my first dosage… cheers.

Okay, done. And as it goes, once I start this, it will be a lifetime commitment, and I cannot miss a beat. I’m planning to get a watch with an alarm, just to make sure I never ever forget. I want to get one for U, too.

So anyways, I’ll have more details again tomorrow. For now, I want to rest early, so I can adjust to my new… schedule. I’m putting my laptop away, as I usually have it beside me in bed, just to make sure I don’t beat it up in case I have any nightmares and stuff.

I’m hoping I don’t have any adverse reactions to it, or at least it not be too bad. Wish me luck… good night.

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