July 30, 2013
"Why are you so obsessed with this?" John, my other half, replied.
"Oh I don't know," I responded with a slightly bitchy tone. "Maybe because I'd like this shit out of my body forever. Don't you?"
"I can't say I wouldn't like to stop taking meds every day, but after more than 20 years, I stopped thinking about a cure. HIV is a small part of my life. I don't think about what it would be like without it. I've accepted it."
I stopped with an uncharacteristic loss for words. "Is he fucking kidding?" I thought to myself. I would give my right testicle and maybe even a kidney to put this phase of my life behind me, tomorrow. He wasn't kidding; I know better. John and I may share the same HIV status, but we look at it very differently. It's one of the many things that I love about him and probably why we complement each other.
Three years ago, I wrote a blog post in which I asked the question, "What will you do (when you first hear that HIV has been eradicated)?" At the time, it was the first I had ever heard of such a thing. Eradicate HIV? Hell yeah, I was all ears and ready for the end ASAP. But I don't have to tell you, if you've been following this story, that doing that, is far from a slam dunk. With that said, we have made progress in several ways to move in that direction. Even I, the recovering pessimist, think that eliminating HIV from more than several human bodies, is on the horizon.
As part of a writing assignment last semester, I was asked to journal about my life, 25 years from now. I was asked to envision who I was, and where I would be, at the age of 74. It wasn't the first time I had done something like this, but it was different this time around. I'll spare you the physical details and the locale, but HIV was most definitely part of my past. In hindsight, it was just another phase of life that, like the others, had a beginning and an end. Some phases are longer and some are short but when you're in the middle of one, it's hard to believe that it will probably end. This most recent vision quest was filled with a new perspective and gratitude. Being rid of the virus but still having the knowledge that I have amassed: What I am capable of, if life gets ugly, and people even uglier. Priceless? I think so.
Even if it has been decades, what would it hurt to visualize yourself, on the other side of HIV? What have you learned about life, love and yourself since testing positive? Has living with a potentially fatal disease taught you any priceless information that you might never have never known otherwise?
I'd be willing to bet it has.