I had never really thought about how my diagnosis affected HIM or anyone else in my family. All I do is take pills and I do not appear sick to anyone, so my own issues with HIV are mostly mental.
We are always in a rush, we go to bed too late and we have to wake up too early; we snooze to get an extra five minutes of sleep before work. We make quick easy meals after work so we have more time to spend with our kids at the end of the day. We rush around like chickens with our heads cut off to juggle laundry, cleaning the house, the car, the yard.
When you think life has found a plateau and you can begin to find some normalcy, it has to shit on you, just to remind you, there is NO normal.
To fill a job these days, rumor has it that companies "Google" the name on the resumes they receive before even calling the resume sender. They can check your social media accounts and check up on who you are before even calling you back for an interview. For most HIV-positive people this is not a big deal; however, if this is the case there are more than three pages of links about HIV when my name is Googled.
My Halloween doctor appointment with Myles was a long pain in the butt. They gave me an HIV test since I did not have my medical records on me; I told them to save the money and Google me. I know those tests are expensive. I failed -- or passed -- that test again.
So "M" Day finally came; before we knew it a huge moving truck was in our driveway. Myles spent that night at Grandma's, so he would not be bored out of his mind or in the way all day. Movers poured into our condo and quickly they were helping us pack last items, electronics, and artwork. Nash our dog was locked in the garage after it was loaded into the truck. Marley our cat was locked into a bathroom for the rest of the day with a heaping pile of catnip.
The beginning of the rest of your life happens all the time. Breakups lead to new relationships after a period of self growth, and usually some very much needed ME time.
Sometimes change finds you on its own. We went camping for Myles' fourth birthday in July just like last year, he gets to pick what we do and he LOVES to camp. So we packed up the dog, and headed to a lake in the mountains for a few nights.
After a sabbatical from the real world I am returning, going to the gym, looking for a job and wrangling my almost-4-year-old Myles while I attempt to find my next new beginning. Sometimes you need to do "something" to help lift the fog, and sometimes it happens on its own.
Four years ago on Jan. 8 I was diagnosed; yesterday Myles my three year old and I spent a good two-plus hours in an emergency room waiting room waiting to see what was going on with my husband Keanen.