Hoy!

HOY! Teehee! In spite of the holiday I've been on from blogging, I am still alive and kicking.

Sorry, just been a bit busy. With what? Work (YES!). My baby doggie (AWW!). Dating (PAK!). Basically, just living.

So, what else is up?

Updates? My last CD4 count taken last February was 449. I think it went down a bit, but I'm doing good, don't worry.

Been working for a new company in a new industry for the past seven months. Just fresh from regularization. I hope to tell you more about this soon.

Everything else is still the same. Still yogaing. Still dating my Simply Complicated guy. Still me.

That's it for now. I'm not totally back to blogging, sorry. But for now, let me leave you with something interesting I found on the net.

This documentary won a group of students from the Ateneo School of Medicine and Public Health the award of Best Video Presentation at the 2012 UP Manila - National Institutes of Health Research Forum. Watch it with me...

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Three Cheers to Three Years

It’s April. In the snap of a finger, the first quarter of the year just passed. And in a snap of the finger and all the knuckles of a hand, it’s been just over three years since I got myself tested for HIV. Well, whaddaya know?! Three frickin’ years?! Imagine?!

Yes, yes, yes. I think I’ve told this story a number of times already before, but please bear with my reminiscing.

I recall it was the last day of March 2008. It was supposedly the last day the Manila Social Hygiene Clinic was to offer free HIV testing. And just in time, I had gathered all the guts I had to drag myself there to get tested. And like you may already know, I had scouted out the place some days before, meaning to get tested, but chickened out at the last minute.

The second time proved to be a charm. I guess the end of March deadline was the push I needed. I am a crammer, after all. I mean I was still nervous as hell just walking there, let alone getting tested. But I have no regrets getting tested. At all. I got my results two weeks after, in mid-April.

So I tested positive. Oh well. I was fortunate that I was up for the challenge of living with HIV, which really proved not to be as much of a challenge as I‘d expected. I was curious, open, forgiving, and just ready to delve into unknown and unfamiliar territory, and I guess that helped in the adjustment period. A short learning curve before I could say to myself proudly, “Yep, I have HIV, no big deal“.

Even now, three years later, it’s not at all the big deal everyone expects. I’m still not going to die. It’s still not going to kill me. I’ll still be okay. But of course, I can only say all that because I got tested. Because I know that I am HIV positive. And I know what I have to do to take care of myself. That makes things alright.

In the span of three years, I have never been hospitalized for anything. Well, actually, it’s never happened in my lifetime, except if you count birth and circumcision. These past three years have been almost normal. So if HIV were a battle, then I’m successfully keeping the enemy at bay.

Three years. Geesh. It’s been a while, huh? But what’s changed? Well, of course I‘ve been taking anti-retroviral drugs or ARVs, for almost three years as well. It’s a daily habit, much like drinking multi-vitamins. I’m consciously keeping away from food with raw meats and fish, which I never really crave for anyway. Other than that, I’m not giving myself special treatment.

I am still working, in a field that got presented to me BECAUSE I was HIV-positive. As in, had I not been HIV-positive, I would probably not have started blogging, and would not have gotten the opportunity to write for the advocacy called Positivism, and would not even have gotten the chance to dare to delve into the industry I’m in now. So I can say I thank HIV for that. Interesting, huh?

I also have HIV to thank for some of the friends I have. My BFF. My pozzie posse. The rest of the positive community. The HIV advocates. The Yoga for Life community. I was telling W the other day that I would probably be a totally, totally different person on a totally, totally, different path in a totally, totally different place, had I not been diagnosed with HIV. I mean, I’m still me, but different. Am I making any sense? Bottom line, I have no regrets. I’m glad that three years ago I got tested.

Oh, speaking of tests… let me segue.

I haven’t told you yet, but I got my first CD4 test for this year. I was actually supposed to have it done February, but then I was informed that there was no reagent available to run the CD4 test. So I had to wait. As March came, I got the go signal. So in early March, I scheduled a trip to RITM with W. He was having his CD4 done too, along with all the other blood tests like the CBC and blood chem.

Funnily, I realized I fasted since the night before unnecessarily, since I wasn’t having a blood chem done. I pretended I was merely sympathizing with W’s own fasting. Hehe. Getting to RITM, there was no one at the clinic. It was past 8:00 am, and that was unusual. We headed to the back office, and were told that everyone was attending a seminar that week. Ah, okay. And skeletal force was late?! Argh.

After waiting a while, we decided to go back to the clinic. The nurse was already there, and so were a lot of other clients. Hmm, and we weren’t told. Gee thanks.

This was supposed to be a long story. Long, because the nurse on duty was all flustered, confused, overwhelmed and unfocused, probably because there were so many people there, but if you ask me, she was just plain unorganized and unsystematic. To cut the long story short, all I needed was a CD4 count and a med refill, and yet it took me till past 11:00 am. Geez. I swear, I was at the end of my patient nerve.

I waited for so long that I had time to think about how my last six months were, which could determine how I’d do at my CD4. That meant August to February. In that span, I stressed over Christmas, I lost my job, started a new and more stressful one, and so on and so forth. Sounded bad. But this was also the first full six months that I had been doing yoga as much as twice a week. That may have evened out the odds. So maybe I should think about what I’d been up to immediately prior to getting the test.

Well, the day before, which was a Wednesday, I was working stressed as usual. Bad. But it was yoga night, too. Good. But I slept late and got just about 5 hours of sleep. Terrible. But only because I had some safe mind-blowing sex that evening. Great. Still had no clue. No choice but to wait for the verdict.

Luckily, my calf-caressing friend went to RITM the following day. I texted him for the favor of asking what my result was. Back tracking, if you recall, I had just recovered from a CD4 yoyo of 493 - 447 - 493. Being up and down and all around was no pattern to expect. So when calf-caresser texted, I was shocked. My result was… 646. Whoa! Up 153?! I was in disbelief, honestly.

I was as a point where I thought the 500 mark was just taunting me. I’d been so close, so close. So to absolutely hurdle the whole 500 range was amazing! I’m happy. I officially now have a CD4 count of a normal, non-HIV-positive person. Kewl. I need to keep up with what good I’d been doing. Religiously drinking my ARVs. Of course. Doing yoga. Definitely. Having mind-blowing safe sex. Perfect. And just being optimistic and happy. Easier said than done, but the least I can do is try.

Great news without the April fools! Three cheers!

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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 Luck of Sixes

Almost six months of not worrying about it.

Six months of ignoring it.

Six months of not thinking about it.

Six months of taunting it.

So will 6 still prove to be my lucky number? We'll find out soon enough... It's time for my CD4 count again.

Jun 2008: 343. Aug 2008: 328. Feb 2009: 484. Aug 2009: 493. So far, since starting ARVs in August 2008, my numbers had been increasing. Although my last result, an increase of just 9 measly points, seemed to show I had hit a plateau of some sort. Feb 2010 signalled my next count, and I was about to see if I had indeed plateaued. But of course, I would be unable to make that conclusion so easily.

This past six months covering Sep 2009 to Feb 2010 was riddled with so many factors that would make or break my CD4 trend.

Definitely, the period covered getting used to my new job. Hell, until now, I feel like I'm still adjusting to it... and you know how I am with change. And along with that comes wrestling with a longer commute to and from work everyday. Maybe it's not as bad as it can be, because I now opt for the comfort of riding a bus to work in the mornings, and just settle for the stressful yet speedy MRT on the way home in the evenings.

This past six months also stood witness to changes in my former non-existent lovelife. Ahem. Okay, fine. So maybe Papi and I are the least typical of couples you'll ever see. We aren't able to see each other every weekend. We don't see the need to text or talk everyday either. So it's pretty much a low maintenance kind of thing. But then of course, it's been far from perfect. There was that one "it's complicated" incident in January that threw us into the wind. Fine, it broke my heart and I cried that time. But right now it seems worked out.

Being in a relationship and being sexually active with each other also seem like two completely different things for us. With out going into detail... not like there's much to detail in actuality... my sex life for the past five or so months has been more or less confined to my right hand. Hmm. Not exactly how I'd like it, but it ain't exactly killing me. Okay change topic now, please.

This six month period also saw the birth of our little pozzie posse. Pozzie posse meant more gimmicks. Weekends, weekdays... didn't matter. Hanging out in places littered with smokers at times, but with drinking still kept occasional... just that occasions came more frequently. Argh.

Biggest change that the pozzie posse brought is that I had less of my alone time. Less siesta, less sleeping on time, more late nights out. Just this past week, I wasn't getting my full eight hours of sleep for five straight days: Thursday movie date with BFF GreenFrog; Friday late at the RITM with the posse; Saturday dinner, movie and coffee with W, W's newbie, LivingWithHiv and BFF; Sunday dinner with BruskoBoy and BFF; and Monday dinner with BFF and a couple of new couple pozzie friends. Okay maybe you've noticed BFF and I have been hanging out a lot lately... been moonlighting as a marriage counselor lately for him, helping him through the tough times. Oi, that was a stressful role as well. Hahaha.

So anyways, let me make clear that I'm not blaming the pozzie posse for anything. Any late nights and consumed alcohol and stuff was all by my own personal powers and choices. Thank you.

What else? Well, I no longer have the once a week serving of ampalaya that I used to have at my old office. Multivitamins, haven't been drinking them lately. Still recovering from a cold and cough that haunted me for the past two weeks. It's been so bad that I've been putting off getting my CD4 count. Remember, I was supposed to have it in February. I just went for it yesterday, March 2nd. Sort of fooling myself into thinking I could save up some CD4 points maybe. But not after still being pasaway for the past month.

So yesterday, I went. I wasn't alone. I was with W's newbie, Mr. Calf-Caresser, and my latest recruit... my new bunso. Despite knowing I wasn't exactly doing everything I could to raise my CD4 count for the past six months, I was actually excited to know how I did. I felt like I was experimenting to see how all these lifestyle choices would affect my CD4 count. Two words: Guinea Pig. So how exactly would I do? Would I drop some points or not? I could hear the drum roll already.

Good thing we needed to wait to talk to the doctor in the afternoon. I was sitting opposite Ate at her desk, when the curious cat in me took charge. My eyes were leafing through all the papers on her desk, when I recognized my patient code... Were these the results of the CD4 counts already? Ate told me, "Yes". Gawd. I saved my count on my phone, as well as those of W's newbie and Mr. Calf-Caresser. I texted them both their results, congratulating them because their counts meant they were still doing well enough to not need to start medications yet. How about mine?

Okay fine. Mine was... gulp... 447. Hmm. Still not so bad, being above 400. But as expected, it did go down. It went down 46 points to be exact. Hmm. I asked Ate what that meant for me, and she really thought it was no big deal, even attributing the drop to be a normal part of fluctuation. Hmm. Okay, I wasn't exactly depressed about it, but it did leave me a lot to think about.

Lessons learned? Well I'm not giving up my love or my friends exactly. Maybe I'll work some vitamins back into my routine. Maybe be more healthy somehow... or at least try. Less stress if that's possible. But as of last night, I was in bed by 10:00 pm, and even managed to squeeze in some shut-eye on the bus ride to work this morning. O diba, may takot din pala? Hehehe. Wish me luck on these next six months!

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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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CD4 Once More

As someone currently living with HIV, it’s standard that I get my cd4 count measured every six months. I last had it done in February, when I went with O, and so August signaled it was time again to get my cd4 count.

Was I excited? Hardly.

Anxious? Definitely.

A cd4 count is a measure of cd4+ t-cells in my blood, which tells me how my immune system is doing. Because the lifecycle of the HIV virus involves it using these t-cells to multiply, killing them off eventually, the higher the cd4 count the better.

A normal person – someone without HIV – should have a cd4 count of 500 to over a thousand. The critical point for someone with HIV is a cd4 count of below 200, meaning his or her immune system has deteriorated significantly. This is the point at which he or she is said to categorically have AIDS. It is also at this point that a person is expected to be extremely susceptible to opportunistic infections, like tuberculosis, pneumonia, meningitis and others.

Cd4 counts still aren’t sure signs though of the condition your body should be in. I’ve met some people who have cd4 counts in mere double-digits already, but who are still in good physical states externally. I guess it’s pretty consistent with HIV itself, in that you can’t tell unless you get tested.

Not to fret though. A cd4 count of below 200 doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. There are ways which allow the cd4 count to recover, and among them are ARVs or anti-retrovirals. ARVs are medicines usually given in cocktails or combinations which are able to interfere with the process of multiplication of the HIV virus, keeping it at bay, and allowing the immune system some leverage to recuperate.

I think the best case I’ve seen is a friend of mine in the US who reached the point of a cd4 count of zero – yes, absolute zero – but is now enjoying a 300+ cd4 count and living a normal, healthy and productive life. The only catch, I think, is that once you reach the AIDS-level of a cd4 count below 200, you categorically will never be removed from that classification, even if your cd4 count recovers to above 200. For me, HIV is HIV, no matter what the cd4 count. And AIDS is just a name, something for statistical purposes.

So anyway, back to me. Back in June 2008, if I remember right, I got my first cd4 count when I was still with the San Lazaro Hospital. It was 343. By August, I was able to transfer to the RITM, where they took new baseline data. My cd4 had gone down to 328. Down 15 points in just 2 months. I attribute that to the stress and anxiety brought about by the ultimatum presented to me at San Lazaro that I needed to tell someone in the family, before they started me on ARVs. Something I just wasn’t prepared to do. At that point, with the guidance of the doctor at the RITM, I decided I’d start on ARVs.

After six months on ARVs, I got another cd4 count in February of this year. My cd4 went up to 484 at that time. A 156 point increase, and I was amazed. It was unexpected, and I was ecstatic. Again, I didn’t know what things I was doing right, to which I could attribute the increase, but hell, whatever it was, I’d take it. I was convinced that the ARVs were indeed working for me.

And this past week, I was due again for another cd4 count. Would it be a reiteration of the powers of ARVs? Or would it be a wake up call that it’s not always going to be all good?

I actually brought a couple of guys along last Tuesday who were just about to start their own HIV journeys. Just preparing myself and them for the trip kept me busy, so it wasn’t really until I was on the MRT on the way to our meeting place that I was again reminded that I was going to face a needle again. Sigh. It still scares me, and I still can’t watch it being done, but I’m much, much better at dealing with it. I think.

So we got to the RITM, and a needle, some blood, and a lot of hanging out later, we left... nope I didn’t get my results just yet. Ate told me it would be available the following afternoon. I was anxious, honestly. I just couldn’t confidently say which way it was going to go.

Wednesday, I got a text from Shola, excitedly asking for a pa-cheeseburger. My cd4 was 493. Up nine points. Hmm. I had mixed feelings. Nine points? Nine measly points? Compared to 156 in the six-month period prior to this one? Hmm. Not something instantly impressive.

But considering this six-month period involved some failed attempts at affection, fallouts with friends, leaving the comfort zone of my old job, delving into a new profession, wrestling with the longer daily commute, a grave ARV overdose mistake, and so many other possibly distressing situations... suddenly, nine points up doesn’t sound so bad. At least it didn’t go down, right? So there. I’m happy.

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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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I'm Not A Superhero

I’m not fast like The Flash. I’m not strong like The Incredible Hulk. I’m not a web-swinger like Spiderman. I don’t have x-ray vision like Superman. I can’t communicate with animals, like Dr. Doolittle. I’m not even as hung as Jeff Stryker.

I’m not a superhero. But these past few weeks, everyone has been expecting me to be one.

At work, I’ve been denying the fact that I’ve managed to shoulder the work being done by at least four different people who’ve left the company. And this past week, I’ve been receiving feelers to take on even more work. They’re actually trying to flatter me into thinking that I’m being developed for bigger things, but flattery will get you nowhere. I’d appreciate some help, for crying out loud! Multi-tasking is one thing, but overloading is a whole different situation. It’s not even funny!

Some emo friends have been making contact as well, asking for some advice regarding their respective relationship problems. I don’t know when exactly I became the expert on love, nor do I know why I was made mature enough to handle situations such as theirs. I know I’ve been gifted by the heavens with this “talent”, but sometimes, I just don’t want to hear things. I don’t want my solitude-slash-loneliness being rubbed in my face. I just want to tell them to be thankful they actually have relationships to be problematic about, when I on the other hand, have nothing.

This thing with Baby Nathan has been another challenge. This was the one time that the HIV advocacy organizations could’ve stepped up to the plate to help this deserving family out, but sadly, I don’t know if and how they’ve been helping. I’m not exactly rich or anything, but I do manage to assist them in my own personal capacity. Granted that they should eventually be able to support themselves, you don’t know how hard it is to turn my back on a kid who can’t even go for a check up or a med refill because they don’t have money for a bus ticket to Alabang.

I’ve been fortunate enough to have found my passion for writing, and be able to use it to fuel my HIV advocacy. But even that is daunting. There’s just so much to do, and lucky enough that I’ve been receiving opportunity after opportunity to both write and advocate, I’m just afraid of spreading myself too thin.

And with everyone pulling on me from all directions, some even trying to shoot me down, the last thing I want to do is snap. This is not exactly going to do wonders for my upcoming CD4 count. There just has to be some other way to relieve the strain.

It’s just so much pressure to have the success, happiness, comfort, and the very lives of others depend on my actions. It’s physically tiring, mentally exhausting, and emotionally draining. So much so that, I must admit, I’ve needed to take a slight respite from the realities of life.

I felt like a turtle in a race, leaving the confines of my own shell, trying to push everyone else, from a frail ant to an emotional elephant, past the finish line. My biggest fear was looming... to get trampled in all the ruckus. A hero in the eyes of the few who might care, but mere roadkill in the greater scheme of things.

Fortunately, an angel picked up my rotting carcass and took me up to the heavens, to revive what little life there was left in me. And given the chance to converse with God, I only had three things in mind. I asked for strength, I asked for purpose, and I thanked Him extensively for everything I have. And with that, I felt peace and smiled.

Somehow, it dawned on me that maybe I didn’t need to be a superhero. It might just be enough to be me.

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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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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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A Day w/o U

RITM, day 2. This entry may as well have been entitled another day with… needles. Imagine me cringing.

It just happened to fall on another Thursday. I had been scheduled by Ate and the doctor for my lab tests at the RITM. I had planned on taking another day off from work, but reconsidered, thinking I’d save my leave credits for other more important appointments. I had been given the option of showing up early at the RITM. And I mean early. As in 6:00 am. Early enough so I’d be able to make my way back in time for work at 8:30. At least that was the plan.

Instead, I mistakenly left my cellphone in silent mode, missing my wakeup call by about 45 minutes. Instead of getting up at 4:45 am, I ended up realizing my mistake at 5:30 am, and just rushed to get out of the house. I had planned on making the first trip of the MRT, but obviously missed it. I was able to take the train at 6:00, not too bad. I love traveling that early in the morning. It was still pre-rush hour, a big advantage for the claustophobe like me. It was around a 20-minute train ride, from which I rushed down to street level to hop on a bus plying the Alabang Skyway route. I was just trying to recall how U took me to the RITM last Monday. Plus it made sense, it was a route straight to Alabang via the Skyway, meaning less stops, making for a faster trip.

It was a long but quick bus ride, and I tried to take note of landmarks on the way. We passed by the Nichols Exchange, the farthest south I was really familiar with, since that was where my first boyfriend was from. Further on down, we entered the skyway, and passed the Raya residential development which looks amazing. We passed the Hapee Toothpaste plant, the SM Mall in Bicutan, an finally exited at what looked like a newly constructed Alabang Exit which led into the Filinvest Corporate City. I got down where U and I did previously, at he Alabang Central Terminal.

I decided to walk towards the RITM instead of riding, primarily because I get a better sense of direction when I’m on foot. I retraced the steps we took last Monday, walking towards the Festival Mall and up towards the hill where the RITM was situated. It was a long walk, and I made it before 7:00 am, but remained unconvinced that I had taken the shortest way.

I first walked towards the comfort room, to relieve myself of the pee I’d had brewing in time for my urinalysis. I needed to keep it in almost the whole way, since I’ve been known to suffer from a shy bladder at times. I whipped the bottle out and filled it up mid-stream as advised. Then off I went to the Laboratory Department, which U had pointed out to me during our earlier visit. There was still no one answering the doorbell, so I sat down on a bench in the hall trying to cool off after the long walk. A few minutes later a lady passed me and walked into the lab, shortly after peeping out the window asking if I was a client. I handed her my lab referrals and the urine sample as she ushered me in. I sat down in the torture chair, putting my arm down on the armrest ready for my sentence. She looked at the list of test to do… viral load, CD4 count, genotyping, CBC, hepatitis profiling, and urinalysis… and whipped out four vials to fill. Four vials? That’s worse than the three I filled up at the Manila Health Department months earlier. This would be a record for me. Or so I thought. I looked away as she started to push the needle into my arm. I’m getting used to the feeling, but still can’t stand seeing it. Next thing I know, she’s asking me to hand her two more vials from the table next to me. Four? Plus two? Another record broken… but I have to admit it wasn’t that bad. So there I was, six vials of blood lighter, a survivor.

I walked next door to the X-ray Department, again no one was there. There’d been a sign saying the personnel were at the canteen, so again I sat down and waited. The old lady in charge soon showed up, and I was in and out of there in a flash.

Last stop, some test called PPD. Research now tells me it stands for Purified Protein Derivative, a skin test for tuberculosis. I had been pointed to the emergency room for it, from where I was pointed to the Pharmacy. I showed the referral, and I was given a box of something called Biocin, and told to return it after. Weird. Not something I’d usually hear at a pharmacy. So I returned to the E.R. and handed it to the nurse, who asked for my chart. Chart? What chart? I had nothing else with me but the referral, but was told they couldn’t do the test without the chart. I tried texting Ate, but received no reply. U had given me her number beforehand in case I encountered some problems. So I had to wait, thankfully she arrived early, around 8:30 am.

Needless to say at this point, I didn’t make it to work on time. So anyways, Ate accompanied me back to the E.R., and gave her personal referral in order to push the test through. So apparently, PPD is a skin test. And I must say skin tests hurt. I got a bump full of the medicine in my arm, had the nurse draw a circle around the test site, plus a note on a piece of tape on my arm with the date and time it was administered. Bad enough that I couldn’t wet my arm for three days, but I had to have the pen mark and the tape on me at work. Hmmm. I have some explaining to do.

Take note again, that all the tests I had done were free at the RITM, except for the P120.00 I paid for the Biocin thingy. I’m told the test will be free everytime, as oppose to that at San Lazaro, where follow-up CD4 counts cost something like P4,000.00, and viral load tests P6,000.00. That should be more than enough savings to pay for the additional transport to the RITM.

I realized I didn’t bump into any other fellow clients, Ate being the first and only person I encountered from the OPD that day. I was out of the RITM by 9:00 am, already having sent a text message to work saying I would be late. I walked back to the highway, but this time following my instincts and passing a road I hadn’t tried before. I think I got the right and shortest route this time. I made the trip back, via the bus and the MRT again, and reached work past 10:00.

Another amazing day, not even half through, but already got a lot done. Just two tests left, a fecalysis and RPR titer. A stool sample would spoil in the length of the trip, while the latter test, they didn’t have at the RITM. I’m thinking of going back to Dra. Malou at the Manila Health Department for those tests, as well as to pay them a visit and update them on my status. I’m planning to do that Tuesday morning, another day I’m taking off from work. A bloody and shitty Tuesday, literally.

I have another visit to the RITM scheduled on Tuesday afternoon for a consultation with the doctor. I’ll find out the results of the tests, plus my options for ARVs. So it’ll be another busy week again for me. My verdict is coming… again. Wish me luck!

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RITM Day 1 (A Day w U)

It’s a huge week for me. This is the week that I make my first appearance at the Research Institute for Tropical Medicine. I just realized it’s in Muntinlupa already, of which Alabang is a part. That shows you how unfamiliar I am with the south parts of Manila. The farthest south I’m familiar with is Taguig, where my first boyfriend lives.

Anyways, yes, it was U who offered to take me to the RITM. I took a leave from work this Monday. U and I agreed to meet at the GMA Kamuning Station of the MRT at 9:00 am. I left the house at 8:00, amidst the baffled look on my mom’s face, who was wondering if I was actually going to work. Of course, I lied, and said I was. I left as late as possible without being too obvious. I passed by the ATM to pay some bills and kill some time before riding a bus to the MRT station. I got there around 8:30, and lined up to get a ticket to the Magallanes Station. I didn’t mind being early, especially after U mentioned he hated waiting. He got there and acknowledged he was late by eight minutes. Let’s just say he was worth the wait. Hahaha.

I had decided to dress casually, in just a white shirt and a pair of jeans, which may have added to doubt in my mom’s mind as to where I was going. But U surprised me, he was dressed even more simply, in a pair of shorts and a shirt. Hot nonetheless.

Anyways, enough flirting. I was trying to account the cost of transport to the RITM. Tricycle to EDSA, P7.50. Bus to GMA Kamuning Station, P12.00. MRT to Magallanes, P14.00. Bus to Metropolis Alabang via the Skyway, P35.00. And finally an FX Taxi at the Alabang Central Station to the RITM, P20.00. So an hour and a half and P88.50 later, we were there. The RITM.

It was a quiet building on top of a hill, which looked decent with upkeep. We walked through the corridors of the main building, and I was shocked when I realized that U knew so many people there. I just thought he was the serious type, shy to some extent, so he didn’t seem like the type.

We walked to the Out-Patient Department, which I later realized was dedicated to HIV “clients”. Yep, that’s the term U always used. We were not patients, we were clients. We encountered a couple of guys there who he greeted by name and introduced me to. Seeing that the doctor was not there yet, we left the room and wandered back through the corridors. He introduced me to one lady, Ate, who we passed. We then headed on out what seemed to be a rear entrance to the bulding.

We came to what was an Annex building of the RITM. We walked in and all I could think of was that it was like a school building. Its doors opened up into a courtyard around which some quiet rooms and corridors sat. We walked to one of the corner units of the building. No labels, no room number, nothing. Door opens and… wow! It honestly looked like a kindergartener’s classroom! There were small scale sofas lining three of the four walls, and a long desk lining the fourth, behind which a pair of ladies were sitting. U introduced us.

This other Ate is a nurse I think, and the other girl was identified as the encoder of the OPD Annex. They were nice, regarding me as U’s new recruit. They invited us to take our lunch with them, so we went and bought some food to eat with the rice and other viands they already had. It was nice to see U in what seemed to be his element, his territory. He was more loose, less stern, lighter and happier. He ate to his heart’s content, admitting he had always been big on rice, and even joking (I think) that he was fattening me up as well. I would have loved to assume he was flirting with me.

Just a few minutes after we were done with lunch, we got word that the doctor was in, so we headed back to the OPD, and there she was, the doctor, who ushered me to take a seat as she was still with another client. U got his supply of medications while we were waiting. As much as I’d like to think that he was there purely for me, hehehe, that was not the case.

Anyways, it was finally my turn, and U sat in with me and the doc. U gave his introduction. I was the guy registered at San Lazaro, advised to start on ARVs, but not without the family knowing, but was not ready to tell the family. I gave her all the copies of the medical results that I had. She looked through them and asked me some of the usual questions. Why I got tested, where I got it from, what I was feeling, etc. Then she helped me fill up the information sheet, with the usual stuff. Sexual orientation, profile of sexual partners, vices, medical history, etc. And then she came to my verdict.

Definitely, I was welcome there. My previous lab results were good, but they’d have to take new baseline measurements for me. Noting my previous CD4 count of 343, the doctor said it wasn’t too urgent that I start on ARVs, and that in cases like mine, it would be my choice if I wanted to start. Hmmm. Interesting. She asked me, “How badly do you want to start?” I said, “Pretty badly.” She explained to me the dedication involved in taking ARVs. Once I start, it would be a lifetime commitment. The medication would only be effective if taken exactly on schedule. No misses, no advances, no forgetting, no losses. I think I’m ready for that.

That being said, she and Ate worked together to give me all the lab tests I’d need to have done. Some old friends, the CBC, x-ray, and CD4 count were to be done. But a lot more new tests were coming my way. The Viral Count, which measures the concentration of the virus in my blood. Urinalysis and Fecalysis. PPD, which was meant to detect a tuberculosis infection. Hepatitis Profiling, to check for hepatitis. And most amazing, Genotyping, which the doctor says can help predict which types of medication I will be most compatible with. The fecalysis I opted to take elsewhere, because of the 30 minute timeframe given for a valid sample. All the other tests are free, except for the PPD, for which I had to pay for the medication. Just P120.00. Not too bad.

So we finally left the RITM, with my lab requests on hand, my Alabang experience put on hold for now, until Thursday that is, when I’m having my lab tests done. U and I actually walked back towards the highway, where we were to catch a bus back home. It was one long, hot, sweaty, tiring day for U and I, but it was all worth it. It was another eye opener for me.

My assessment? Transport expense is a point for San Lazaro. The P88.50 trip to RITM was everything compared to the P20.00 I spend getting to San Lazaro. Aesthetically, RITM is more pleasing over all. Comparisons to a school building and a kindergartener’s room should spell it all out. Plus the tranquility of being hidden up on a hill does have some novelty to it. The crowd is much less at the RITM, but as I said before, the pleasure of the Festive Thursdays at San Lazaro will probably wear out. Treatment-wise, I appreciate very much the several options and open-mindedness afforded to me by the people at the RITM. It’s striking how differently they handle patients or clients, and I’m happy with the way RITM does.

Obviously, I look forward to the next few visits to the RITM.

My HIV journey has just hit a fork in the road. Looks like it’s a good one.

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The Big Move

I’m moving. Nope, not moving out of the house, just transferring. RITM, here I come.

I’ve had my online persona for a while now, and through it I’ve been able to meet a lot of different people. Mostly just online acquaintances, but some I’ve been lucky enough to meet. I’ve also been fortunate with the kinds of people I’ve been meeting. It’s been a risk and a great deal of trust every time I agreed to meet someone new, but so far, no regrets. Although they’re of all sorts, from poz to not, they’ve all been great experiences and learnings for me.

Of the poz guys I’ve encountered online, most if not all of them were presently registered at the Research Institute for Tropical Medicine, or RITM, in Alabang. I, on the other hand, am with the San Lazaro Hospital in Manila.

I never knew anything about the RITM before, except that it was in the south of Metro Manila. And it’s far. So I never even tried to learn more about it just based on that. But from these guys, I’ve heard a lot more things about the RITM. They never really told me not to go to San Lazaro or to transfer to the RITM. I am currently in the process of formulating that decision on my own.

Money-wise, San Lazaro is better apparently, since it’s a government hospital, providing most services for free. But I’ve been told that RITM does the next best thing, which is provide a 75% discount to HIV patients, should they need to be confined. I’m not sure if that covers rooms and/or services, but it’s significant enough either way. ARV medication is still free of course.

One other thing I’ve heard is that the atmosphere is better. You’ve heard me rant before about how depressing the conditions were at the H4 ward of San Lazaro Hospital. Apparently, things are more decent at the RITM.

I’ve mentioned before how I enjoyed immersing, or more like fading into the poz crowd during those big Thusdays I’ve spent at San Lazaro. I still do. It’s still an eye opener. But the contrast of that against the atmosphere at the RITM is… intriguing. Apparently, there, there are no crowds, no fiesta-like Thursdays, and as I’ve been told, it would be very rare for poz patients to bump into each other. Extreme, isn’t it? I’m told it’s a good thing, because there’s less politics involved. Politics? Hmmm, considering that we are a society amongst ourselves, politics shouldn’t be too surprising. But as I’m really a loner to begin with, the novelty of the H4 social experience might just wear off eventually. Either way, good for me.

So far, nothing really convincing for me to transfer to the RITM, right? So here comes my compelling reason.

Now you know how I’ve been ranting about the ultimatum that I had been given at San Lazaro, right? About how they let me off last time I was there, telling me I needed to start on ARVs, but that I should come back when I had family, or at least close friends with me for support? It was like the ball was in my court, only to find out I didn’t know the rules.

Granted, I acknowledge the urgency to start on ARVs. Ok, maybe some people would rant back that I’ve taken long enough and should tell my family, or friends at least. But it’s just not the right time just yet. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, but haven’t convinced myself to do it. I can’t explain it, but it’s not that easy.

Now the RITM looks like it will be the answer to my problem. One of my “friends” who has become my insider into the RITM referred my problem to them. I didn’t ask him to, but he cared enough to take initiative. Their response? They’d welcome me with open arms. Apparently, I wouldn’t need a support system if I didn’t have it. The important thing was that I get started on ARVs. Furthermore, initial stages of ARV medication could be taken at home, unlike at San Lazaro where they require a two week confinement there when starting on ARVs. I was shocked. Was this for real?!

Okay, the down side is that I’d have to go through the process all over again. The forms, the interrogations, the pity, the stares, and the least I’m looking forward to, the blood tests. Arghhh. I’m still not over my fear of needles, but I guess I’m less stressed about it. I’m particularly looking forward to having my CD4 count tested again, to see how I’m doing so far, after over two months of no ARV medication, relying just on multivitamins and some old-fashioned virgin coconut oil. Wow, I never realized it's been two months. This will be interesting.

So there, I’ve stated my case. And as you may have guessed by now, I’m practically convinced that the RITM is the answer to my problems. I plan to go there next week for my profiling, or what I refer to more as a re-baptism or conversion. And even have a couple of offers from my fellow pozzies to accompany me there. I’ve been so blessed.

Read more about the Research Institute for Tropical Medicine at http://www.ritm.gov.ph/.

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Another Angel

Poz.com has brought me another angel. Let’s call him U. I’ve been bitching a bit about how few Filipinos there are on poz.com, and how few of those few seem to be active. So several weeks ago, I just dropped by the site, and picked out a few to whom I sent some messages. I sent pretty much the same to each. I think I sent maybe four or five. I just said a simple “Hello” and asked if they were open to being friends.

A week passed, no word. Until I got a response from one guy. One of those simple faceless profiles that others might just brush off. But I would not be that choosy. Let’s call him… U.

U and I exchanged a few messages, after which we traded messenger IDs. We finally got the chance to chat, after which we graduated on to talking over the phone. We interrogated each other, discovering we lived in the same city. U admitted he wasn’t working, having to resign due to the stress at work which was affecting his health. It reminded me of C, who I’d also met thru poz.com. We then came to the HIV part of the introduction.

Interesting how he found out he was HIV positive. He was already in a relationship with someone when they decided to get tested together. He says he’d only had unprotected sex a couple of times before. His boyfriend’s results came out the next day, while his took a couple of weeks. I admitted I knew that feeling. So there it was, U was poz, while his boyfriend was negative. A tragedy probably more shocking than my incident with my Mojo. U had mentioned that their mixed serostatus had forced them to shift their relationship towards companionship. But really, the best part of the story was that they’re still together as we speak. I admit, that gave me hope for my own relationship destiny. With a bit of envy, of course. Hehehe.

So anyways, we got to figuring out how far on the HIV path the other was. Apparently, he was further along, already being on ARVs since last year. We even compared CD4 counts, mine being 343, was lower than his current 350+. Almost the same. He was registered at the Research Institute for Tropical Medicine in Alabang, but had also been to the San Lazaro Hospital once before.

He was repeatedly expressing concern about the fact that I was still not on ARVs, despite being advised to. I expressed my concern, which he understood. But still he emphasized how important it was to start fighting the infection as early as possible, which I understood.

Apparently he had been through a similar situation, where he was putting off getting started on medication, needing to concentrate on his career. Until the time came that his health was noticeably declining, then he really needed to start on ARVs. As such, his wise words for me were, “as soon as possible”.

Our relationship is in the building stage, we had spent a number of nights on the phone together sharing stories and information, and have even managed to meet this last weekend to catch a movie together. He was a good looking guy, very decent and presentable. Cute actually. A bit on the serious side. But it was nice. Comfortable.

We caught a screening of “The Dark Night” and enjoyed every minute of that evening. I did, at least. I felt we could’ve spent even more hours chatting the night away, like dogs being let loose to play. But of course, being that we were both immunally-challenged, we needed to head on home to get some much needed rest.

We walked across to where he could get a ride, and talked some more, letting more than a handful of jeepneys pass us by. He asked me if I was hungry, which I was not, it being that I’d usually be asleep by that time. It was a bit of an awkward time, I wasn’t sure if he was waiting for me to invite him over to my place or what, but obviously I had given it some thought. Hehehe.

He finally grabbed a ride around midnight, and I started walking home. I was already thankful for the time and sympathy that U had given me, but it was relieving enough that I had received a text message from him when I got home. This was not to be just a one-night-stand. And the fact that we still hung out over the phone the nights following that meeting tells me there will be much, much more to look forward to from us. I like U.

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My Virgin

Another week has passed. I’m still not on medication. Time has flown so fast. I just realized that it’s been a month and a half since I was last at the H4 Ward of the San Lazaro Hospital. A month and a half since I found out my CD4 count. A month and a half since I was recommended to start on ARVs.

For now, I’m trying to go on with the other parts of my life. Work. Family. Friends. Life. All that, while trying to stay healthy. I’ve been doing pretty well, considering it’s the rainy season. No major ailments. No fever. No flu. I’ve been taking my multivitamins regularly. And something else. A virgin is helping me out.

Now before you wonder, I’m talking about Virgin Coconut Oil, or VCO. An uncle of mine gave us a bottle of it last Christmas. I had no idea what to do with it, so it had been sitting on a shelf since December. Until last month, that is.

I had stumbled onto articles online about the anti-AIDS benefits of virgin coconut oil. They repeatedly refer to a Filipino doctor, Dr. Conrado Dayrit, father of former Philippine Health Secretary Manuel Dayrit, who investigated how a component of VCO, Lauric Acid, could inhibit, delay and reduce the spread of HIV. I’m not really sure what further studies are being done to this day, but there is little noise being made on the possibilities of this seemingly innocent fruit.

I remember what Maestro Ryan Cayabyab said in his song, Da Coconut Nut: there are so many uses of the coconut tree indeed. Considering this country I live in is a paradise of coconut groves, it should be reasonable to expect more studies to be done.

Although these are still just studies being done, and there seem to be no conclusive results and no therapeutic claims, I’ll take my chances. I would have loved to be a guinea pig for studies like this. I would love to be an instrument towards discovering a cure for the rest of those like me.

I can only hope that VCO could indeed fight, if not totally wipe out HIV. No harm in trying. Who would’ve thought I’d need help from a virgin?

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The Little Birdie

I’ve just had my first official sleepless night. Did something happen? Definitely. Good or bad? I can’t really say.

I’ve been quizzing myself every so often with my What-ifs. One of them was What if I didn’t break up with my last boyfriend? I always wondered if things would’ve been better if I swallowed my pride, just gave him the liberty to fool around behind my back, and stayed together with him. Would this have prevented me from catching the bug? Last night, my question was suddenly answered.

Let’s just say I heard it through the grapevine. A little birdie told me. Well, technically, not exactly little. Impressive actually. I had bumped into this little birdie a couple of times before, but never really became more than just acquaintances. We really had only one real common link between us, which was my ex. The little birdie told me we needed to meet and talk in person, the sooner, the better for me according to him. Next week wasn’t even soon enough. Hmm. The little birdie really got me thinking what this was all about.

So last night, we decided the quickest way was to talk over the phone. After the initial pleasantries, the little birdie came to its mission. I had heard from my ex that he was recovering from a medical procedure performed on him. But the little birdie had more to the story. Apparently, the medical personnel were baffled by the ex’s infection that wasn’t responding to the medication. So baffled that they needed to rule it out. So they did the test. And yes, he was HIV positive. Although the thought had grazed my mind due to the little birdie’s sense of urgency to meet, at that point, I still was a bit shocked.

It was at this point that the little birdie said that I should get myself tested as well. The little birdie had gotten its test too, which was definitively negative since they had not had contact since years and years ago. So I then blurted out that I was done with the test, and admitted I was positive as well. I may just have shocked the little birdie a bit, but definitely made its job much easier. He now understood why I knew so much about HIV and was less shocked than expected.

Apparently the ex was tested around the end of April, shortly after I got my result. He had also been to the H4 Ward at the San Lazaro Hospital. But I imagine that I may have gotten my patient number before he did. My mind went back to the medical chart of 059 who got confined at the H4. Maybe that was him.

He wasn’t simply just positive like I was. He was positive to the point of infections in the mouth and lower extremities. So bad that he was in crippling pain. His CD4 count was in the double digits. In other words, he categorically had AIDS. He was still too weak to start on ARVs. I know my chest was throbbing just trying to imagine his condition. It scared me to be honest.

I haven’t really been pondering too much on who I possibly got this from, but it never struck me to go as far as my last ex. We had known each other since September of 2005, and split up after almost 2 years together. It was after that I decided I’d enjoy singlehood for a change and let loose. So it was always that time after that relationship that I considered as my most risky.

It’s definitely presumptuous of me to think that I got it from him. For all we know, he may have gotten it from me. Or our infections may not even be directly linked, and just be coincidental. Only heaven knows.

For now, nothing much changes. I'm even more thankful now for the relatively fortunate condition I am in. Just a lot more to think about. I appreciate the effort the little birdie made to tell me. It was just concerned and bothered by its conscience. But don’t expect any confrontations to take place between me and the ex, because technically I should not know anything about it. I just hope he gets better. As for the little birdie, just as my secret is safe with it, its secret is safe with me.

Fly away little birdie… and thank you.

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Scary!

I've been so stressed out these past few days. So much of my days have been spent thinking, and thinking, and thinking. An after-effect of the last consultation I had at the San Lazaro H4 Pavilion. And it's not even about the result of the CD4 count itself.

I still can't wrap my head around having to admitting to someone in the family that I'm HIV positive. It's just been barely two months. I'm still not even completely back on my feet from the news that I have HIV. And now this?!

I remember Dr. Malou of the Social Hygiene Clinic specifically say I should stay away from stress and depression because it in turn stresses and depresses my immune system. Something not good for someone with HIV. So why are the doctors at the H4 practically forcing me to tell someone in the family?

I honestly got the impression that they were indirectly saying something to the tune of If you don't tell, we won't start you on the medication. I mean if this were really a life and death situation, regardless of who knows or does not, they should give me the medicines I need, right?

I'm expecting everyone will find out eventually, but I'd appreciate being told that I could take my sweet time. I need to be reassured that it is not a requisite to being treated. I believe it is my health that is important, and that does not directly revolve around who I am able to reveal to.

It's just really really not that easy. It's easier said than done. Dealing with HIV, I can be pretty brave. But when it has to combine with interacting with other people, I'm chicken shit. I realize that the less I know a person, a stranger to the extreme, the easier it is for me to tell about my condition. Adversely, the more I know someone, the harder it is to tell.

I've been trying to analyze why this is the case with me, and I guess the difficulty to reveal is proportional to what reputation I've built with the person. I'm not saying I have some flawless reputation which I need to protect. I've always been flawed to begin with. But telling someone I've shared years with would retrogress to the very start of the acquaintance, I imagine. It would snowball into other issues and other skeletons in my closet, like how I got it, what I've been doing these past years, when I got it, how gay I am, how promiscuous I am, how I could have hidden my alternative life, and so on. Too many questions I might not have enough time to backtrack and answer, assuming I have answers at all. Multiply that with the number of people I have to come out to, and that just scares me. I just hope it doesn't scare me to death. That'll just put me out of my misery, huh?

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Brain Overload

My Thursdays still have not managed to let my guard down. Again, it was H4 day. I was out of the house by 7:00 am, and a tricycle and a jeepney ride later, I reached the HIV ward of San Lazaro Hospital. It was just 8:00 in the morning, and lo and behold, I was first on the list!

I don't think they expected anyone that early, so the nurse just sat me down by the seats by the door of the building to take a breather, before they took down my vitals and while they finished their duties and reports.

After some time, more people poured in, and I gamely sat in their midst. It was not exactly in my comfort zone to mingle, but it was nice. I was finding it a bit hard to keep up, but I surprised myself by being comfortable in that crowd. There were around 20 of us there, and I got acquainted with a number of them, as they introduced me as "the new one".

I noticed a couple of them whip out what looked like white bank passbooks. I read what was written. Health Regimen Booklet. Hmmm, so I figure this is how their ARVs are monitored. I wasn't looking forward to getting one of my own though.

By 9:00 am, the doctors came. My usual doctor wasn't there. So the other doctor and a new one were on hand. They started off making rounds of the ward and checking on those confined. By about 9:30, they headed for the doctors' office and I was called in shortly.

She already had my folder on her desk, but still asked my patient code. She then flipped through another folder, where she was looking for my CD4 test results. Finding it and taking it from the folder, she sat down and looked at me sternly. She asked me some old questions again, like who knows, if I had a partner, and how I'm dealing. She reiterated the need to tell someone in the family. Rebriefing I guess.

At this point, she stared at my results, and asked me what I wanted to hear. Whether I wanted to hear the number flat out, or just if it was bad or good. I sort of giggled a bit at the question, and just said I wanted it all. She still held back a bit, looked at me, and said it was below 350. My mind raced at that point, but I kept a straight face. Normal is above 500, so it's not that good. But how far below 350? The critical 200 was below 350. Absolute zero was below 350, too. Tell me! Tell me!

Finally, she said it. My CD4 count is 343. Not entirely bad, but not good either. Almost midway between normal 500 and critical 200. She then said that she'd advise I get started on ARVs. But not before more counselling. And not before I have a support system behind me. Family preferably. Friends possibly. Anyone really. I said I was planning to tell my sister, and realized this development just made it more urgent. A lot to think about in the coming days.

The doctor then sent me off, but not before leaving me her mobile number, so I could contact her when I was ready to get counselling with whoever I chose.

I was honestly a bit defeated that I wasn't doing as well as I was feeling. I bid goodbye to my new friends out front before heading off back to work. I didn't even drop by the Social Hygiene Center. I was planning to just check in on Dra. Malou and the gang there, but suddenly didn't feel like it. Maybe another time, when I was less distracted.

I'm a bit glad that I have work to think about, and colleagues to laugh it up with and get stressed out by. But I won't be avoiding this for long. I'm left with a lot to think about right now. Head... hurts... hehehe.

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