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a very healthy 180-pound gym-body to a 152-pound old man in the course of two months." -- Read Ricks Story, The picture show was taken in 1998!

From My Perspective

Death Sentence in '89

I tested positive for HIV in November of 1989. I was living in Washington, DC. It was just one month after my partner and I moved in together and four months after my father, with whom I was very close, died suddenly of a heart attack. Yep, 1989 was one of those years you would just rather forget. If you had told me then that ten years later I would be writing this article, I would have laughed in your face. After all, back then I was given a maximum life expectancy of two years.

This was not my first encounter with AIDS. I had prepared myself for the test, always assuming I would test positive. Timing, my lifestyle, the fact that my former partner had been positive, I had been an operator for the National AIDS Hotline, I knew all the "stuff" about what to expect. My partner was not so lucky. He was negative – wonderful news, but he was totally unprepared to handle a "sero-discordant" (don’t you just love that term?) relationship. In reality, neither of us had a clue about how to deal with a certainty that had previously been speculation.

My doctor and I traced my medical history to see if we could determine an infection date. Since I’m from Utah, both of us thought I probably became infected when I moved to New York City in 1984. Then we dug a little deeper. Was I sexual active in Utah – yes (there was no such thing as safe or unsafe sex back then). Did I hook up with people from out of town – yes, please I worked in the hotel industry. And, oh yes, I did have some lymph nodes removed in 1980 and the doctors never determined what the infection was – bingo! So as best we can determine, I became infected somewhere between 1980 and 1984, most likely 1980 – 18 years old and living in Utah.

An official Statistic in 1991

By 1991 I had my first opportunistic infection – Pneumosistis Carini Pneumonia (PCP) – and became an official statistic. Came through with flying colors. Not even a trip to the hospital. Didn’t miss a day of work. In fact, even though I was working for a gay and lesbian rights organization at the time, no one at work knew my status. After that, I started planning my funeral.

A little over a year later I noticed the dark lesion on my calf. Finally, when I couldn’t ignore it any longer a told the doctor and got my second "big" disease – Karposis Sarcoma (KS). I was lucky with that one as well. Only one lesion! Of course there was the 6 months of daily injection of Alpha Interferon and the medication to keep the nasty side effects at bay. Then two years of weekly injection just in case.

My funeral plans became more concrete. I started picking out hymns I wanted during the funeral mass, etc. My partner – still negative – was great. He tried to understand, he promised to take care of me, I knew he was there for me, but the strain was beginning to tear our relationship apart. Around this time I was getting more than a little depressed.

Another year went by and then another bout of PCP. Again, very mild, no hospital, no missed work. By now I was on about 15 different medication, including Valium. I was reluctant to take on anything that required a commitment of more than 6 months, as I was sure I would never be able to fulfill it. The one exception was that I agreed to serve on my church council – a three-year term.

In that same year I suddenly went from a very healthy 180-pound gym-body to a 152-pound old man in the course of two months. "This is it," I thought to myself. It was winter and I began waiting to die. My depression was so great that I could barely get out of bed and I finally began seeing a therapist. The toll that this period took on my relationship was enormous. He tried, he really did. He was prepared to stay with me until I died, which was sure to be within the next few months.

Then, as summer came, something happened. I still don’t know what it was exactly. All I remember is visiting my family in Utah and then driving up to see friends in Idaho -- and something happened. Somewhere on the lonely, beautiful highway between Salt Lake City and Boise the black cloud lifted. I wanted to live again.

My depression vanished. Slowly, I started thinking again about actually having a future. My weight came back after starting testosterone treatments. Then I started to re-evaluate things. I changed doctors – tired of being treated like a number in a medical test, stopped many of the superfluous drugs, and began to deal with the issues in my relationship.

Was it a miracle – a sign from above? I don’t know. I have always been very spiritual. In fact, I would recommend to anyone reading this that you find something in your life to help you focus on a higher power – whatever form that takes for you. It helps you keep things in perspective. Looking back, it was my belief in something bigger than myself that got me through – still does.

Find Out What Works for You

So, as things sorted out, I’m on a very unconventional drug therapy – Hivid, Epivir, and Viramune. Don’t ask me what the technical names are, I don’t pay attention to all that noise anymore. Not a protease inhibitor in sight. My viral load is undetectable and T’s are in the mid-500’s and holding steady. The moral to all that is find what works FOR YOU. You have got to be an active partner in your medical treatment. I also take a multi-vitamin, additional vitamin C, Coenzyme Q10, DHEA, and cod liver oil capsules on a daily basis. Oh yeah, I work out regularly three time a week too, unless something better comes up.

Live Life

After eight years my partner and I parted company. We still love each other very much, but unfortunately the relationship could not be saved – believe me we tried. I took a new job in San Francisco and so am starting all over again in an new place several years after I thought I would have been dead. Hey, I even met a new guy! I know that there is no cure – yet. But I have found hope. I let myself love people, my friendships are deep, and I take nothing for granted. Most importantly, I learned to live my life, not plan my death and that has made all the difference in the world.
 

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