by Sebastian St.Troy
Published on: Apr 2, 2008
Topic:
Type: Short Stories

“Scared, nervous, sick to my stomach. Afraid people would see me differently and not treat me the way that I should be treated.” This comment isn’t unusual for those who fear disclosing something personal, something fearful that makes us feel different. Sometimes, we feel like a dead tree in a field of green. Trees go dormant during the cold, blistery, often lonesome winters of time. During these quiet seasonal periods the tree may appear dead, however, it is very much alive and growing. Its growth is internal and underground, unseen by the naked eye, developing strength for the spring, that new beginning. Some of us often go through this time of internal growth, unseen by others, as we accept, understand, rediscover ourselves, and re-evaluate the import things in our lives when we discover we are HIV positive. Maria, who commented above, is 29, married, has two children, lives in Minnesota, is involved with the Minnesota AIDS Project and the Aliveness Project, and is HIV positive.

Maria discovers she’s HIV positive and shares this about her experience, “I am pretty sure that I contracted HIV in July of 2006. I was working in a group home and while hooking up an IV I was stuck by a needle. I never gave it a second thought until October 10, 2006 at 10 AM. I found out that I was pregnant on October 1, 2006. My fiancé and I were elated, as we knew that it was limited time for his mom to be alive. I went in for doctor’s visit immediately since I had several miscarriages previously and knew that I would need help medically to support the pregnancy. While at the free clinic the doctor asked if I was okay with a HIV test. I said sure. I had one previous to my fiancé and that was negative so what did I have to worry about. I called the nurse to find out how all my labs were and she said to make an appointment. I figured this was routine. So the morning of the appointment I loaded my son up into the car and off we went. When I got in to see the doctor she said she had some bad news. She then looked at me and said you have HIV. I remember just sitting there for a few minutes saying over and over that I was going to die.” That feeling of dieing, that feeling of dread, that moment of discovering we have HIV is different for everyone. Some of us, especially us gay men, have been aware and educated about HIV from its early beginnings; however, some sectors of society didn’t believe that it was something for them to be concerned about. They were wrong! Now everyone should be concerned about HIV. Not only concerned, but educated and acknowledge it is something everyone should talk about freely without fear or social and religious dogmas.

Having come from “a very strict Baptist home” Maria has overcome such dogmas now to the point that she feels that disclosing her HIV status is “a positive way to spread a little HIV education.” She further shares, “I am finding that people in their 30’s, in white suburbia, think that this will never happen to them. They are in monogamous relationships, drug free and healthy. Never would they think that their partner could betray them. If they are single they think that even now it is a gay and drug abuser disease. Rarely do I hear that people use condoms to prevent STD’s. He is too cute for HIV etc. seems to be the mindset. He told me he was clean. I usually follow up with I thought I was clean.” Such beliefs, lack of knowledge, and dangerous behaviors only lead to the spread of HIV; however, we can help change that by learning to be such as that dead tree in the field of green, slowly growing to the point we can spring forth and freely share and grow to the point we are providing shade, comfort and beauty to those around us.

Terrible things happen, most of the time we don’t understand why the universe has allowed it, but they happen and usually can alter our life’s path. Having someone, that shady, comfortable tree for us, to share our hearts with when these things happen can help us learn to grow. However, some of us don’t have such and find ourselves alone in that field of green. Maria had several comfortable trees to rest under, but not knowing how they would respond, and says, “The first thing I did when the doctor left the room was call my dad. I told him that I had HIV, and there was no judgment at all. He was the first to tell me that I would not die if I controlled the disease properly with medication and diet. I called my fiancé from the doctor’s office and asked him to meet me at home. He thought there was something wrong with the baby I am sure. When I pulled into the parking lot he was there. I just got out of the car and cried while he held me. I told him I was HIV positive and he said, ‘we will get through this.’” Such positive support isn’t something everyone receives, perhaps because people don’t understand or have some set dogma that prevents them from expressing genuine love, caring and concern for what a person might be going through.

Often, people don’t understand. “The rest of my family has not understood. My mother is angry at me, still blaming me for sleeping around. I did not, yet she does not believe me. One of my sisters thinks that my fiancé gave it to me and does not think I contracted it at work. We have had several arguments about this to the point of her demanding to see my medical paperwork. It has left a huge strain. My youngest sister constantly brings up how selfish I am to continue my pregnancy since I am going to die. The ironic thing about this my sister’s husband has Chrohns disease and is gravely ill, yet she is pregnant with baby number two at the moment. My two brothers have been pretty distant about it. My brother John is a preacher like my father. This September he was married but I was asked not to attend. What does that say? My littlest brother, I think, is just really crushed. I have tried to talk with him about it, yet he will not open up to me. One of the worst things about my conversation with family is that EVERYONE in my family, including my grandmother, knows I am positive without my consent. I have to constantly reassure her that I am not dying this year. All of my uncles and aunts know etc. It truly makes me uncomfortable to be around family gatherings.” Having experienced similar reactions, some of us know personally what it is to be HIV positive in a world that is ill-informed and clinging to ancient, often incorrect, spiritual teachings or other thoughts endeared into us by our families and society.

Is it time for change, time for a global awareness, and a time for a new conversation? Yes, some might say, yet to others, those who still live in fear and denial, the answer is no. I believe it is time for change, it’s time for the world to have “The Conversation” about HIV, and it is time we all step forward to help others have “The Conversation”. Hopefully this story has touched you in some way, has encouraged you to join in on “The Conversation”, and inspired you in some way so that you can freely have your own conversations.

This excerpt was taken from the new project, “The Conversation”, a book and film project about HIV disclosure. If you’d like to learn more, volunteer to share your own story, created your own video for the project, or want to know who is involved and who benefits from this project, then please visit our website: www.theHIVconversation.com This excerpt was shared here with permissions from Maria, who is just one of the many people who have already joined “The Conversation”.

Hopefully one day all of us can say such as this, such as Maria shares, “He does not touch me like I am diseased but like he always has. He has been nothing but supportive with my HIV.”


« return.