From the way I shared it, you’d think my last cd4 count was just like any other. But it sort of wasn’t.
Certainly, the big difference was that I was not at liberty to be shy that day. I wasn't going alone.
I was goin' a-hubbin'.
I was going to be taking two newbies and introducing them to the RITM. They were actually about to embark on their own HIV journeys. Yep, two new HIV-positive guys. And nope, I had nothing to do with their becoming HIV-positive.
One of them found me online, through this blog if I recall right. I’d been talking with him through instant and text messaging since that time, and we’d met up and had lunch one weekend before. He’s actually taking his new status with a pretty level head, as he manages to laugh and joke with me about everything. And that’s a good thing, of course.
The other sent a 911 message through the Tiya Posit section of Positivism saying he had just tested positive, and was at a loss what to do next. But with the sense of urgency which came with the letter, as the resident pusit I took it upon myself to get in touch with the guy. He was in a panic, it being less than a week since being told his results. Problem was, the private clinic where he was diagnosed didn’t want to give him his results, and oddly, their protocol didn’t allow him to consult with the RITM on his own. So I’d been talking with him through phone and text, and also managed to meet with him as well one evening after work. He just really needed reassurance that he’d be okay. But the mere fact that he reached out to ask for help was a huge step towards acceptance, I believe.
So the day was already shaped to be unlike my usual anti-social self. I was tasked to make sure they had a good start to their HIV journeys. I had to try hard not to be shy. I was to play kuya to these two guys. And getting to the RITM, I found so many other reasons to be more sociable. Ate was there, of course, along with Shola, both of whom I hadn’t seen in a while. Plus my friend T was there too, himself also playing kuya to a handful of other newbies.
Plus, I got to see my favorite non-HIV-positive RITM-regular there. My Papi. I’d first encountered Papi at the RITM last year. He’s not HIV-positive, nor is he part of the staff of the RITM. He just likes hanging out there. I never really got to interact with him much at the start. The bubbly personality he sported and the way he seemed to know more people there than I did just intimidated the wallflower in me.
Oddly enough, it wasn’t until he was out of the country that we really got to know each other better. With YM as our medium, we found ourselves exchanging stories, sharing problems, and basically wondering why we hardly ever talked at the RITM. But now that he was back in the country, the friendship we’d built oceans apart was apparent this time, as we hugged tight and Papi planted a wet kiss on my oily cheek. I swear, you’d think we had a history. It was nice.
So there, just based on that, I was really out of my element that day – my element of solitude, that is. I was in the hub. I was in the hub. Hell, I was hubbin’! And the hubbin’ did not end there.
I hitched a ride with T coming back up north, along with three others. No biggie, supposedly. Not until someone asked if he could touch my calves. Say what?! Are you kidding? Was this some conspiracy with TristanTales? Yes, fine, it was my fault that I was in shorts as usual, but never in my entire life has anyone asked permission to touch my calves. It was odd. Odd, but not bad. Surprising. Of course, the pleaser in me said Sure, go ahead. But I was honestly pleased myself.
So for most of the ride back, I had someone’s hand caressing my calves. I know, it sounds ridiculous, but I have witnesses. And no, I’m still not used to the attention. I just appreciated the honesty with which the proposition was delivered, and thought that deserved some sort of reward. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it myself. And yes, I did make sure he had my number before we parted ways. Just in case. Fingers crossed. Fine, I’m a flirt.
So there, those are the rest of the juicy details of that more-than-just-a-cd4 day. Not a day that I’m going to be forgetting anytime soon. Not the hubbin', not the calves. Especially not with JinJin teasing me constantly about my calves. *Evil eyes*
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Hubbin' & Calves
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Kuya (Big Brother)
Having worked extra over the weekend, I had a day and a half worth of vacation that I could offset with a workday. So in the midst of an agreement with E, who is part of the Positivism.ph team, we agreed to head for the RITM yesterday, Tuesday. More on Positivism.ph in a later post.
My personal agenda at the RITM would be to get a med reload. I only had enough medicines to last me till tonight, so one way or another I was bound to go. But my main purpose would be to just hang around with E and the resident counselor, who is also part of the Positivism.ph team.
So hang around I did. I helped out with some paperwork – literally – no typing or writing or thinking. Just collating and stapling. Mmm, repetitive work, gotta love it. Lunch with the counselor was great, too. I tried hard to keep up with her appetite. Hehehe.
E sent me a message that a friend of his was coming in. He asked me to talk to him, because he wasn’t feeling well. Me? Why me? Was this counseling? Yikes. The shy guy in me was trying to file an appeal. Ok, ok, let’s see what we can do.
Once I figured out which one he was, I took the counselor’s seat, and E's friend took a seat in front “my” desk. It turns out he was experiencing fevers after being on Nevirapine for about a week. Well, well, I knew exactly how that went, so that gave me a bit of confidence. I found myself opening up, and putting him at ease that what he was going through was a normal part of the process.
Hey, I actually thought I was good at that! A second guy actually came in having the same complaints, so again, I shared my story. It felt good being able to help in my own little way. Very kuya-like of me.
Later I received news that T was coming, with three new recruits. T is an old friend. An old friend who I was going to meet for the first time. So he would be an old-new friend. Confused? You see we’d been chatting online for more than five years now, if I’m not mistaken. There were plans to meet which never pushed through, but we never lost touch. Until finally, we discovered each other again, in the poz world this time.
So finally, finally, finally, we met. The only thing was, he didn’t realize it was me. I thought maybe it was too much for me to expect us to be instantly chummy, so I didn’t pursue it, and just stuck by E, who kept exchanging jokes, quips and the occasional elbow with me. T’s three new recruits had gone through their paces with the doctor, and he invited us all for dinner at nearby Festival Mall, still oblivious of who I was exactly.
We headed to the mall, but let the newbies take the car. E, his friend and I trekked on foot, since we couldn’t all fit. Getting there, we had dinner, where I showed off my new found appetite. We were almost through with dinner before T finally figured out who I was, which was what broke the ice for us. He’s been reading this blog regularly, so he knows what things I’ve been going through. He probably sees me as a willing guinea pig for the poz journey.
I wasn’t the kuya or big brother of the group age-wise, but when it came to the HIV journey, my mere six-months already made me the kuya of kuyas. So on the trip home, T encouraged his new recruits to bombard me with all the questions they had, which really weren’t much. I think it was enough for them to see that T, E and I were smiling, laughing, and living... enough to see that we were normal... enough to assure them that they, too, would be okay.
I was the last to get off at Guadalupe, before which T thanked me for having this blog and sharing my experiences. T is to be thanked, too, for the work that he does with these kids. I’ve never been a kuya in my life. But regardless of whether it made me feel old, I realized last night, it felt swell to be a kuya.
