So in about an hour I'll be walking up the steps of our campus infirmary to get the results back from the series of tests I took last week. When I first when in to see the doctor last Thursday, I was originally only going to get the HIV test, but I wanted to put my mind at complete ease, so I also got tested for Gonorrhea, Chlamydia, and Syphilis. I don't think I have too much to worry about with the last three, but the mental peace will be well worth the money I had to pay.
Now that it's almost time to get my results back, the sense of anxiety has completely returned. I was laying on the couch with my partner last night and nearly burst into tears. To keep him from being nervous I held them back, but the same eruption of nervousness nearly overtook me when we went to bed. I laid awake for a while just thinking of everything that could happen. What would I do if they said I was positive? How would I feel if the results came back negative? To make matters worse, I had a dream that I had a huge fight with my mom. We never fight. So I'm not sure if I should read that as an omen of things to come or if I have hidden mommy issues -- that's another blog all together.
Our campus infirmary is a historic brick building that's been pieced together over the years. Inside, it looks like an old-fashioned insane asylum with pastel-colored tiles covering the floors and walls. Everything looks a little worn, but functional. I'm just hoping that their testing programs works properly.
With fear in my mind and anxiety in my heart.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Tomorrow
I get my test results back tomorrow. I'm scared, but shouldn't I be? The results will ultimately determine how my life, and the life of my partner, will be for the next 10 or 20 years. My life could be cut tragically in half. I'll learn that I can never have children. I'll learn that the rest of the world is still in the dark about a virus that silently affects so many people.
I've been strong though. The last few days have been good for me. Instead of sitting around thinking about what may happen, I've been actively trying to rethink my life and how to get past HIV. I'm confident I can do it, but I fear I can't do it alone -- as I so often try to do.
I've been strong though. The last few days have been good for me. Instead of sitting around thinking about what may happen, I've been actively trying to rethink my life and how to get past HIV. I'm confident I can do it, but I fear I can't do it alone -- as I so often try to do.
If only for a moment
There was a short time yesterday when it seemed like all of this just slipped away, out of my mind and out of my life. For a few minutes, life was the way it's supposed to be -- carefree now that finals are done and jolly because of the holiday season.
But then reality hit me with a huge reminder that my life is far from ordinary anymore. I almost started to cry, but I held back tears.
I wish I could relive those few moments of peace again. It was almost as if life was still perfect.
But then reality hit me with a huge reminder that my life is far from ordinary anymore. I almost started to cry, but I held back tears.
I wish I could relive those few moments of peace again. It was almost as if life was still perfect.
Monday, December 10, 2007
And my heart was calm
My bf returned from his family vacation today, and seeing him was such a relief for my near worn-out heart. However, spending the last few days alone may have done me some good. Not only was I able to sort everything out, but I was able to just think about the potential implications for my life, and his, this virus could potentially have. I'm not as worried as I was a week ago, but the same fears still exist. In many way, it's like a looming fog that refuses to lift its horrid veil.
Seeing him though put me a little more at ease. The strength he has shown through all of this has inspired me to keep strong. In fact, when we talked on the phone last night, I asked if he'd leave me if the results came back positive. Although this isn't the most romantic response, it did make me feel better. He said, "I'm not letting you make me go through this alone." Like I said, not the most romantic response, but it did make me feel better.
We met for lunch today and seeing him just made me feel at ease for the first time in days. Instead of worrying about whether or not I'll live to see my 40s was no longer an issue. It was like time froze again, but this time in a good way. You know, at 23 I've never met anyone that makes me feel the way he does. Hell, I never though I'd meet someone that I still enjoy coming home to each night. My pessimistic self had grown used to the idea that I'd just be alone, forever dedicated to my work. Fortunately, that has all changed. By the way, I'm not that pessimistic, I just have my moments.
Seeing him though put me a little more at ease. The strength he has shown through all of this has inspired me to keep strong. In fact, when we talked on the phone last night, I asked if he'd leave me if the results came back positive. Although this isn't the most romantic response, it did make me feel better. He said, "I'm not letting you make me go through this alone." Like I said, not the most romantic response, but it did make me feel better.
We met for lunch today and seeing him just made me feel at ease for the first time in days. Instead of worrying about whether or not I'll live to see my 40s was no longer an issue. It was like time froze again, but this time in a good way. You know, at 23 I've never met anyone that makes me feel the way he does. Hell, I never though I'd meet someone that I still enjoy coming home to each night. My pessimistic self had grown used to the idea that I'd just be alone, forever dedicated to my work. Fortunately, that has all changed. By the way, I'm not that pessimistic, I just have my moments.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
On Thursday I got tested
So my bf left town on Wednesday night to go on a mini-family vacation before finals week begins. I wasn't sure how I felt being left alone considering the string of bad news we'd had the previous few days. I eventually came to the conclusion that at 23, I was old enough to be able to take care of myself for a few days, even if a life-ending virus was circulating through my veins.
My bf had said that he wanted to get tested with me, but I decided that it'd be best not to wait for him to get back. Besides, there was a slim chance that even if I was infected, he would still be clean, so I decided to go to our campus infirmary and get the bevy of STD tests that they offer. I felt guilty at first for not telling him, but at the same time, I knew it was best for both of us.
What's really sad is that I was scared to make the phone call and arrange the appointment. I new the infirmary was the best place to go for this type of thing, but for some reason, requesting an STD test made me feel dirty. My best friend would later tell me that I'd get over the dirty feeling the more often I got tested. Even after several tests, I guess I still hadn't gotten over it.
Anyway, I managed to get a same-day appointment. I wasn't emotionally ready for that, but I decided that it'd be easier than having to wait another day. As I walked up the steps into the historic, brick building that is our infirmary, I felt like everyone was staring at me and judging me for having to get these tests done. Sure, deep down I knew that they had no idea why I was there, but I still felt like all eyes were on me. I was an untouchable in a world of clean, healthy people.
Luckily at this stage in the semester, there weren't a lot of patients in the office, so I managed to slip in and out relatively unnoticed by other students. I had barely sat down before the doctor called me back. The nurse hadn't even taken my vitals before my doctor had ordered the tests and was sending me out the door to the lab to get the tests done. In fact, the male nurse had to call me back into the office after I left because he needed to check my blood pressure, temperature, and the like.
Getting the actual tests done was pretty painless, even though I'll confess my sincere fear of needles. Fortunately, for the Gonorrhea and Chlamydia test, the infirmary uses urine samples instead of a urethral swab, which was a huge relief for me. The lab technician had a few awards on the wall honoring her ability to calm down rowdy patients. From previous experiences, I knew that I'd be one of those out-of-control patients, but she was surprisingly well crafted at her job. She slipped the needle in, drew the blood, and closed the viles before I even felt the prick.
I don't know what the results will be, but I found this coming Thursday. Sure a week seems like a long time to wait to get the results, but at least I'll have some sense of closure over the whole issue.
My bf had said that he wanted to get tested with me, but I decided that it'd be best not to wait for him to get back. Besides, there was a slim chance that even if I was infected, he would still be clean, so I decided to go to our campus infirmary and get the bevy of STD tests that they offer. I felt guilty at first for not telling him, but at the same time, I knew it was best for both of us.
What's really sad is that I was scared to make the phone call and arrange the appointment. I new the infirmary was the best place to go for this type of thing, but for some reason, requesting an STD test made me feel dirty. My best friend would later tell me that I'd get over the dirty feeling the more often I got tested. Even after several tests, I guess I still hadn't gotten over it.
Anyway, I managed to get a same-day appointment. I wasn't emotionally ready for that, but I decided that it'd be easier than having to wait another day. As I walked up the steps into the historic, brick building that is our infirmary, I felt like everyone was staring at me and judging me for having to get these tests done. Sure, deep down I knew that they had no idea why I was there, but I still felt like all eyes were on me. I was an untouchable in a world of clean, healthy people.
Luckily at this stage in the semester, there weren't a lot of patients in the office, so I managed to slip in and out relatively unnoticed by other students. I had barely sat down before the doctor called me back. The nurse hadn't even taken my vitals before my doctor had ordered the tests and was sending me out the door to the lab to get the tests done. In fact, the male nurse had to call me back into the office after I left because he needed to check my blood pressure, temperature, and the like.
Getting the actual tests done was pretty painless, even though I'll confess my sincere fear of needles. Fortunately, for the Gonorrhea and Chlamydia test, the infirmary uses urine samples instead of a urethral swab, which was a huge relief for me. The lab technician had a few awards on the wall honoring her ability to calm down rowdy patients. From previous experiences, I knew that I'd be one of those out-of-control patients, but she was surprisingly well crafted at her job. She slipped the needle in, drew the blood, and closed the viles before I even felt the prick.
I don't know what the results will be, but I found this coming Thursday. Sure a week seems like a long time to wait to get the results, but at least I'll have some sense of closure over the whole issue.
The next few days
Okay, I know it's weird to have all of these posts in such short succession, but I wanted to chronicle everything before I forget all of the emotions that have been whirling through my head since I received a phone call from a former partner of mine saying that he'd been exposed to HIV.
To say the least, the last few days have been a comforting nightmare. Comforting because of the support from friends and family that I've been getting. Granted I haven't told all of them all of the details, but enough to get by. I'm still to afraid to tell anyone the whole truth. Hiding my sexuality from my parents has been a years-long battle that I may have to end in the next few weeks if my test results also come back positive. But, when I told my mother that a friend of mine had been exposed to HIV, she sounded sympathetic, which was a bit of a relief to me, even though I know her tone would/will change as soon as she finds out that her child may or may not have the virus.
The last few days haven't been all that great though. Sure a few friends I've talked about it with have shared their feelings and been relatively supportive, but the internal anguish is often too much to bear. Not to mention the questions that constantly race through my head. It feels like my mind is a whirlwind of uncertainty.
As each day passes, the fear and the anxiety subside a little bit more. On Tuesday my current bf and I tried to go to the county healthcare clinic to get tested, but we were turned away because they're appointments for the day were already full. It was only 3 in the afternoon. I was angry at that. I was angry because other sick people were taking the doctors away from me... as if I am somehow better than the people who have to go to the county clinic because they can't afford to go anywhere else. Then I became angry at myself for being selfish. Being turned away was just another blow in an already devastating week.
To say the least, the last few days have been a comforting nightmare. Comforting because of the support from friends and family that I've been getting. Granted I haven't told all of them all of the details, but enough to get by. I'm still to afraid to tell anyone the whole truth. Hiding my sexuality from my parents has been a years-long battle that I may have to end in the next few weeks if my test results also come back positive. But, when I told my mother that a friend of mine had been exposed to HIV, she sounded sympathetic, which was a bit of a relief to me, even though I know her tone would/will change as soon as she finds out that her child may or may not have the virus.
The last few days haven't been all that great though. Sure a few friends I've talked about it with have shared their feelings and been relatively supportive, but the internal anguish is often too much to bear. Not to mention the questions that constantly race through my head. It feels like my mind is a whirlwind of uncertainty.
As each day passes, the fear and the anxiety subside a little bit more. On Tuesday my current bf and I tried to go to the county healthcare clinic to get tested, but we were turned away because they're appointments for the day were already full. It was only 3 in the afternoon. I was angry at that. I was angry because other sick people were taking the doctors away from me... as if I am somehow better than the people who have to go to the county clinic because they can't afford to go anywhere else. Then I became angry at myself for being selfish. Being turned away was just another blow in an already devastating week.
I had to tell my partner
After the phone call was over, I set my cell phone on my glass desk and sat for a few minutes in utter bewilderment. I kept thinking that things like this don't happen to people like me. Sure I'd had my fair share of "fun," you know, flings, hookups, etc. But this type of thing only happens to "dirty" people who do drugs and participate in orgies or something like that.
But for something like this to strike my life, was unfathomable. I've got multiple college degrees, good parents, lots of friends, and happily committed to someone I'm madly in love with.
Oh yeah, my current partner. Once I'd come back to a certain degree of reality, I picked up my phone again and ran to my fortress of solitude -- my bed. I crawled under the covers, tucked my head between some pillows and made my own version of "the call." As the phone rang, my mind continued to whirl. Would he leave me? What the fuck is going to happen?
Then, he answered. He sounds happy. Genuinely happy in fact, as if my phone call had somehow brightened his day. The word vomit didn't take long to start spewing out of my mouth. I explained how my "friend" had been exposed to AIDS and how upset I was. I panicked. I wasn't sure how my current partner was going to react. My heart sunk even further than it had before. I think, for a moment, I actually stopped breathing. For a few moments, as I held my cell phone up to my ear, face buried between the pillows on my bed, time seemed to freeze. In retrospect I wished it had. At that moment I didn't know whether or not I too was infected, I could easily slip back into my pre-phone call life and pretend like nothing had happened. Unfortunately, time doesn't freeze and the second hand on my clock slowly ticked as each second progressed.
I lucked out. My current bf stayed calm and brought be back to life. Literally. He talked me through the worst possible scenarios and even offered to go with me to get tested, although I think that offer might be more for his own mental well being since we had also been having unprotected sex, although we did wait until we were both sure we were clean...well at least we thought we were.
I can't imagine what I'll do if I find out that I too am HIV positive. I can hardly imagine the impact the disease would have on my life, much less if I found out I had passed it on to my bf. He hasn't done anything to deserve such a horrible life sentence, so why should he suffer for my indiscretions?
That's when I started thinking about how unfair it all was, and my anger grew stronger. Granted I still didn't have the strength to call my ex back and scream at him. Why had this horrible thing suddenly interrupted my life? How could it? Why me? Why now?
But for something like this to strike my life, was unfathomable. I've got multiple college degrees, good parents, lots of friends, and happily committed to someone I'm madly in love with.
Oh yeah, my current partner. Once I'd come back to a certain degree of reality, I picked up my phone again and ran to my fortress of solitude -- my bed. I crawled under the covers, tucked my head between some pillows and made my own version of "the call." As the phone rang, my mind continued to whirl. Would he leave me? What the fuck is going to happen?
Then, he answered. He sounds happy. Genuinely happy in fact, as if my phone call had somehow brightened his day. The word vomit didn't take long to start spewing out of my mouth. I explained how my "friend" had been exposed to AIDS and how upset I was. I panicked. I wasn't sure how my current partner was going to react. My heart sunk even further than it had before. I think, for a moment, I actually stopped breathing. For a few moments, as I held my cell phone up to my ear, face buried between the pillows on my bed, time seemed to freeze. In retrospect I wished it had. At that moment I didn't know whether or not I too was infected, I could easily slip back into my pre-phone call life and pretend like nothing had happened. Unfortunately, time doesn't freeze and the second hand on my clock slowly ticked as each second progressed.
I lucked out. My current bf stayed calm and brought be back to life. Literally. He talked me through the worst possible scenarios and even offered to go with me to get tested, although I think that offer might be more for his own mental well being since we had also been having unprotected sex, although we did wait until we were both sure we were clean...well at least we thought we were.
I can't imagine what I'll do if I find out that I too am HIV positive. I can hardly imagine the impact the disease would have on my life, much less if I found out I had passed it on to my bf. He hasn't done anything to deserve such a horrible life sentence, so why should he suffer for my indiscretions?
That's when I started thinking about how unfair it all was, and my anger grew stronger. Granted I still didn't have the strength to call my ex back and scream at him. Why had this horrible thing suddenly interrupted my life? How could it? Why me? Why now?
I got a call the other day...
I got a call the other day from a former partner. It was a week ago. A Sunday. The second of December actually, and I was working on a project for school. It was one of those calls that, at first, you think is going to the type where you chit chat about life and catch up on all the things that have been happening in your lives. I answered the phone with my typical, "Hello," with a slight hint of optimism. It's how I always answer the phone because, usually, phone calls are about sharing good news and catching up in old friends.
My former partner's response to my cheery "Hello" would change my life.
He said my name, but it wasn't his normal tone. He was subdued and there was a sense of anxiety to his voice. You know, the way it sounds when someone has bad news but they're not really sure how to begin? When he said my name, it was almost as if he was asking for verification to make sure that it was actually me. Unfortunately for me, it was.
He was silent for a few seconds. His tone grew more grave as he continued. "Some guy I hooked up with is positive," he said. This time, I grew silent.
"I'm going to the V.A. to get tested," he said next. I was still silent.
"You should probably get tested too."
My former partner had served in the military and had had a hard time coping with civilian life after he returned from war a few years ago. For a gay man, he's very "street," with tattoos on various body parts and scars across his abdomen. We met like many young, gay men do -- online. After chatting through must of my holiday break during my junior year of college, we met in person. Nothing serious never developed but we had sex on a few occasions...unprotected sex.
I'll admit, this was a dumb choice on my part. But I was younger than and didn't understand all the risks that went along with that type of behavior, and when I realized that his other addictions were becoming a problem, I told him we would never work out. Life went on, I moved, started dating other people, you know...how life's supposed to be when you're in your early twenties. Soon though, I started getting text messages at weird hours of the night. These text messages had ulterior motives, within a few minutes, we'd be having sex again.
Okay, so I let this carry on for far to long. Now, it's December 2007 and I'm getting the most life-altering phone call of my life. Not only did I learn that he had been having unprotected sex with someone else, but that at least one of his other partners was HIV positive.
My mind began to race and my heart sank so low that it hurt to breath. With each breath I had to force myself to exhale. My life's dreams flashed before my eyes, then vanquished with the thoughts of a premature death and a life of physical limitations because of this potential disease.
As I sat in my desk chair, my arms fell beside my body...lifeless. It was hard to move. I was angry, but I couldn't find the strength to yell into the phone. There were so many questions racing through my head that it was hard to sort through all of them. Sure we had never been monogamously coupled, but I never thought that he'd be having unprotected sex with other people.
He never even said sorry before he hung up the phone.
My former partner's response to my cheery "Hello" would change my life.
He said my name, but it wasn't his normal tone. He was subdued and there was a sense of anxiety to his voice. You know, the way it sounds when someone has bad news but they're not really sure how to begin? When he said my name, it was almost as if he was asking for verification to make sure that it was actually me. Unfortunately for me, it was.
He was silent for a few seconds. His tone grew more grave as he continued. "Some guy I hooked up with is positive," he said. This time, I grew silent.
"I'm going to the V.A. to get tested," he said next. I was still silent.
"You should probably get tested too."
My former partner had served in the military and had had a hard time coping with civilian life after he returned from war a few years ago. For a gay man, he's very "street," with tattoos on various body parts and scars across his abdomen. We met like many young, gay men do -- online. After chatting through must of my holiday break during my junior year of college, we met in person. Nothing serious never developed but we had sex on a few occasions...unprotected sex.
I'll admit, this was a dumb choice on my part. But I was younger than and didn't understand all the risks that went along with that type of behavior, and when I realized that his other addictions were becoming a problem, I told him we would never work out. Life went on, I moved, started dating other people, you know...how life's supposed to be when you're in your early twenties. Soon though, I started getting text messages at weird hours of the night. These text messages had ulterior motives, within a few minutes, we'd be having sex again.
Okay, so I let this carry on for far to long. Now, it's December 2007 and I'm getting the most life-altering phone call of my life. Not only did I learn that he had been having unprotected sex with someone else, but that at least one of his other partners was HIV positive.
My mind began to race and my heart sank so low that it hurt to breath. With each breath I had to force myself to exhale. My life's dreams flashed before my eyes, then vanquished with the thoughts of a premature death and a life of physical limitations because of this potential disease.
As I sat in my desk chair, my arms fell beside my body...lifeless. It was hard to move. I was angry, but I couldn't find the strength to yell into the phone. There were so many questions racing through my head that it was hard to sort through all of them. Sure we had never been monogamously coupled, but I never thought that he'd be having unprotected sex with other people.
He never even said sorry before he hung up the phone.
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