March 31, 2010. The last day of March. The end of the first quarter of the year. The 90th day of the year, 91st for leap years. The birthday of such famed personalities as father of modern philosophy Rene Descartes, civil rights activist Cesar Chavez, former United States vice-president Al Gore, and Star Wars’ Obi-Wan Kenobi actor, Ewan McGregor.
But for me, March 31st has, in recent years, taken on a new meaning.
Flashback to two years ago. I remember it was a Monday. A regular working day supposedly. But waking up early, I was not going my usual route to Ortigas for work. I took a ride to the Manila area. It’s not easy to believe that it’s already been two years. It was exactly two years ago, on the fateful day of March 31, 2008, that I had finally gone to get tested for HIV. It was to be my first... and my last.
I remember how much of a fool I made of myself just getting tested. I mean, I had been wanting to get tested for a while already. Take note, I wanted to get tested. It never occurred to me that I needed to get tested. I had finally decided to get tested maybe a couple of weeks before. I was actually outside the gate of the Social Hygiene Clinic already the week before.
Yep, you read it right. I was just outside the gate. I never made it inside the week before. My paranoia got to me. I mean I got my feet to take me to Manila, but couldn’t get past all my fears enough to take myself up those final few steps to the second floor to actually get tested. So I chickened out and just headed off instead. Hehehe.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I chickened out. It was all about my being scared.
I don’t really think I was thinking along the lines of “What if I test positive for HIV?” I think I knew already that I wasn’t exactly going to get the results right away. And I definitely wasn’t thinking that far ahead.
It was more about my reputation. I mean, yeah, I knew within myself that my rePUTAtion wasn’t going to be damaged that much. But I know my worries included “What are they going to think of me?”, “What if they judge me?”, and “Will getting tested make me less of a person in the eyes of others?”
Based on other people’s reactions to getting tested, I think I’m pretty normal to have thought that way. Even now that I know a lot about HIV, I know it’s still the normal way for Filipinos to react. But I also know that it’s sad.
It’s sad that one has to feel that tortured just getting tested for HIV. It’s sad that we live in a culture that fosters that kind of judgment against people who are just concerned for their health. It’s sad that it takes so much effort to realize that getting tested is a good thing, both for yourself and for others.
Whenever I hear of people who have gotten tested or have at least decided to get tested, I always tell them that they should be proud of themselves. Because the truth is, not everyone is brave enough to do it.
And when I hear of people who know they need to but are too afraid to get tested, I just think they should be told that if they were brave enough to take the risk, then they should just suck it up and be equally brave enough to get tested. I kind of wish someone hammered that point into my head two years ago.
Wow. Two years. It doesn’t really seem that long ago. Two years has brought about a lot of change. Now, there already are Rapid HIV Tests in the country, which can give you results in no more than an hour. Back in 2008, I needed to wait over two weeks for my results.
Back then, I had no one to go through the experience with nor did I know who to approach. The traditional NGOs, you couldn’t find or get in touch with. I’m glad I took a chance on the Social Hygiene Clinic in Manila. Now, it’s so refreshing to see even my HIV-positive friends have taken on the chance to convince and accompany friends and even strangers to get tested. Baby steps, but a start nonetheless.
And bloggers? Whereas before, I couldn’t even connect myself to this blog because the HIV NGOs themselves were making it heard that they were against blogging openly about living with HIV. Why? I don’t know. Well, now there are already over 20 in my Poz Posse blog list... need I say more? Well, I don’t remember getting any apologies.
Okay, I’ve rambled. Two years since getting tested. I’m glad I did it. It was to be a huge milestone whichever way the ball rolled. I just happened to turn out HIV-positive, but it ain’t all that bad. I’m still alive and kicking, right?!
And actually, as we speak, a team of counselors and medical personnel is on the way to Puerto Galera to conduct voluntary counseling and testing there. And that it was spearheaded by someone who is not HIV-positive is the amazing thing. Times really are a-changing.
So if you’re in Puerto Galera, this Holy Week, you might want to think about getting counseled and tested for HIV. Just look for the TAKE THE TEST booth on White Beach itself. It’s totally free, and totally for you. Two years ago, I did it. And I have no regrets at all about it. Do it for yourself, too. Take the Test.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
The Test: Taking Two
Thursday, July 23, 2009
D'oh!
You’d think taking ARVs once a day at 9:30 in the evening would be simple enough, right? Of course!
But prepare to be amazed.
Leave it to little ol' me to really screw things up... big time.
It was a regular Thursday morning. I was up and about by 6:00 am as usual, awoken by my wretchedly reliable body clock. I stepped out of my room and went to the kitchen sink to wash my face. I headed to the dining table and took breakfast while watching Umagang Kay Ganda. Rice as usual. Today, it was chorizo and fried egg. Yum. Nope, no coffee, just water
When I was done, I took my plate to the kitchen sink and let it sit in some water so it’d be easier to wash later on. Meanwhile, I went to my room and popped a handful of something in my mouth, and finished it off at the fridge with a tall glass of water. Ahhhhh. I then headed back to my room to get my towel, ready for my morning shower. And then I was stopped dead in my tracks.
Nope, not by anyone or anything. Just a freaky realization echoing in my head. What the hell did I just do? Did I just drink my ARVs? Did I just drink my ARVs?! Oh... my... gosh!!!
I’m not really sure why it took me that long to realize it. I’m not even sure why I had to realize it at all. But instead of my daily dose of vitamins C & E, I actually grabbed one of my little pill cases and downed a day’s worth of ARVs 15 hours before I was supposed to! Oh... my... gosh!!!
I don’t think I was panicking. I was actually shaking my head and laughing at how stupid I was to make that mistake, repeating to myself, Oh my gosh, Oh my gosh, Oh my gosh!
I was wondering if I should stick a finger down the back of my throat and force it out, but I just couldn’t. It would be such a waste. And not to mention gross. This is it. I had officially overdosed.
Considering I usually feel lightheaded between one to two hours after drinking my ARVs, I was doomed. I now had one to two hours to go through the rest of my morning routine and make it to work unscathed. Otherwise, I’d be walking around like I’d been left with a hangover from the previous night. Great. That’s a really great impression to leave with my old office in Ortigas, where I had planned on reporting for the day. Trust me, I was worried.
And I don’t know for sure, but I think all that paranoia just brought the side effects on even faster. I was on the bus with my mind spaced out, my face flush, my eyes getting heavy, and my head in the clouds. Fortunately, I managed to get to Ortigas safe and sound... and still wide awake.
So what was I supposed to do now? Should I still drink another dose later tonight? Or should I skip it and just wait for my next one tomorrow night? Argh, my doctor will kill me if she reads this. I can only hope she’s laughing with me... Imagine me with a guilty smile on my face. Ooopsy... I just never meant for it to happen.
As much as I’d like to deny that it happened, I won’t. As much as I’d like to convince you that I did it as an experiment just so I could share the experience with you... I can’t. It was just another of my D’oh! moments. This was just a hugely embarrassing but funny mistake that I hope everyone can learn from, including me. Note to self: Try not to do this again. Again I’m reminded... I’m just human. D’oh!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Weather Weather
The thought of disclosing my HIV status to my family honestly never leaves my mind. I put it aside at times – actually, most of the time – but it’s there. On one hand, it scares me that they might not care enough. But on the other hand, what scares me even more is the possibility of drowning in attention. Sigh. Weather-weather lang.
Timing is critical. When in good times, a disclosure like that might seem like I’m raining on someone’s parade. I don’t want to rain on anyone’s parade. When in bad times, it might seem like I’m stealing someone’s thunder. I would never dream of stealing anyone’s thunder. Weather-weather.
Lately there has been a lot going on with the family.
An aunt of mine – my dad’s youngest sister – died suddenly earlier this year. It wasn’t too devastating for me because she had been living abroad ever since, but needless to say it was surprising. She was 59, just a year older than my dad was when he died.
Just this month, all of my dad’s other siblings came back to the country to lay her ashes to rest. They, along with my mom, all took the trip back to the province for the weekend to get things done. I chose not to go. But I couldn’t help imagining how things would’ve gone if I used this rare opportunity of having them all in one place to disclose my secret. Hmm.
I imagine my deceased aunt staring down at me saying Tsk, tsk, tsk... Attention whore! This is my day... my sunshine! Go get your own! So with that, I wasn’t regretting not taking that opportunity.
Last week, when both my mom’s and my own birthdays were, I again thought if that was my good timing. Happy days supposedly, right? But I flashed back to ten years ago, when I admitted my homosexuality to my parents on my 21st birthday. One of the first things my mom managed to say through her sobs was Is this your birthday gift to me? I could’ve been a total ass and said No, this is MY birthday gift to myself, but of course, I wasn't and I didn’t.
Now, considering finding out someone is gay is nothing compared to finding out he has HIV, I just don’t think disclosing my HIV status anywhere close to her birthday will solicit any less negative thoughts than ten years ago. I don’t want to be raining on her parade... again.
This week, it was my mom’s side of the family. Another aunt of mine – my mom’s sister and my godmother if I’m not mistaken – underwent a hysterectomy. Yesterday, news came in that they had found more malignant tumors, and I think she’ll be needing to undergo chemotherapy after. Still no final word on whether everything went well.
Now this aunt may be my favorite, because I don’t remember any time that I felt inferior in her eyes. I know I’m not perfect, but I always felt she focused on what I had than what I didn’t. It was just in her personality to be that way. And so I shouldn’t be wondering why I’m tearing up while I’m writing this, should I?
Naturally, everyone in the family was ready to be at her side. So then I wondered, would this have made a good opportunity to disclose my own misfortune? Again, not immediately a great idea. She needs all the sympathy right now, and I’m just not going to ruin that for her. I’m not stealing her thunder.
Kuya Kim: Laging tatandaan na ang buhay ay weather-weather lang.
And so... I’m left absolutely clueless again with this timing thing. My disclosure of my HIV status has the potential to make good days bad, and bad days worse. Anytime and everytime seems not to be the right time. It’s always someone’s sunshine, someone’s rain, someone’s thunder. I wonder when I’ll find my own weather. Whenever it may be, I just hope it won’t be too late.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Time Flies
I just got back from a loooong weekend. After last Thursday spent at San Lazaro, Friday morning signaled the start of a big family weekend. From my dad’s side of the family, aunts, uncles and cousins already based in the US came home to the Philippines. Some of them I hadn’t seen in twenty-plus years. Add to that most of the clan based in the Philippines, most of whom I haven’t met or don’t even know. We all headed to the southeastern part of Luzon, to go home to our province in Bicol.
My mom and I were fetched at home Friday morning, and picked up some of my dad’s cousins and their families in the area. We totaled 16 in the van, including 4 kids, just right for the size of the vehicle. By about 8:00 in the morning, we were on our way out of the city. So how far away is it? Eight to ten hours. Loooong trip. I had planned to sleep through the whole trip, but with all the yakking and cackling of everyone else there, plus a special mention to the cousin I had beside me who kept tapping my shoulder telling me to listen to her, and slapping my back everytime she laughed, I hardly snuck a wink in.
So needless to say, we were there in no time. We got there before 5:00 that evening. Tired. I’m sure I wondered if this was HIV-related fatigue, but really it was just such a long trip.
I honestly had been dreading meeting all the relatives I haven’t seen or didn’t know. I’d much rather blend into the wallpaper. I sort of got used to being “just the other child”, but my brother and sister weren’t there at the time to grab all the attention. I don’t really have much to be proud of, at least not to the levels of my siblings. It’s all just same old, same old for me. But really, it wasn’t that bad. Save for a number who just wouldn’t stop asking if I was married or had a girlfriend or what, everyone seemed glad to meet me. I still half hate everytime people say I’m a carbon-copy of my father. But no permanent damage.
So what’s the big occasion anyways? It’s my grandmother’s birthday. Not just any. It’s her 100th. One hundred years. That’s like a double gold, or a silver-diamond. Wow. I know. She’s hard of hearing, almost blind, bedridden most of the time, but noticeably, her mind, wit and humor are still there. I know I inherited those from her.
Apparently women in our family have longer lifespans. My grandfathers on both my dad’s and mom’s sides are already gone, while both grandmothers are still around. My dad didn’t even make it to 60. And as for me, I can only be happy that I’ve gotten to 30. The odds of me even reaching 50 are grim. But that’s all me, my genes are not to blame.
I thought this would be a good time to pull my sister aside and tell her about my condition. But I never got the chance, not to mention I doubt if I’d have the guts to tell her. But all in all, it was not bad. I loved seeing my cousins from the US. Even the one I accidentally dropped from a flight of stairs when I was a kid. Even the one who used to tag team with my brother to bully me. I loved meeting the at least 200 of my relatives, thinking to myself that this might be the last chance they’d get to meet me.
I tend to wonder if this many people will show up when my time comes. And it honestly makes me sad that I can’t say for certain. So I need to change the topic.
So anyway, home by Sunday morning after taking the night trip by public transport, I’m happy. I’m proud, because I faced what was sort of my fear of facing people. Facing family. But this is only the beginning. They’ll find out about me eventually. And I realize that this is something that I should begin facing now, before time runs out.
