Over 30 years ago, a doctor handed me a pack of blue and white pills, told me to take at least 12 of them a day, and to get my affairs in order. I had six months at best.
He also told me that all the alternatives I might think of seeking—macrobiotic , homeopathy, herbs and remedies from the rain forest, alternative medicine, meditation, and trial vaccines—were useless.
But I had already dealt with friends with GRID (Gay-Related Immune Deficiency, the original term for what would become known as AIDS). His diagnosis didn’t shock me. I had done my homework. I knew the poison was all he had to offer. But I didn’t believe the little he knew was either the answer or the endgame.
I handed the doc back the daily overdose of AZT he offered—to assuage his own helplessness—said his option was not for me, and told him not to bill me. As far as I was concerned, we had never met at all. Not only would i reject his verdict, but he was officially dead to me.
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So began a journey of discovery of survival, and of discoveries that scared, shocked, excited, educated, and has evidently saved me. I met geniuses and quacks, angels and frauds, swallowed, injected, ingested, rubbed on, infused, and inhaled countless options.
Which one worked? All? None ? I will never know. It could just be lucky genes. But, as Celie sings in “The Color Purple”—I’m here.
I would never have chosen this adventure, but somehow I regret none of it.
I didn’t just learn how to survive. I realized how to live.
For those of us with HIV, World AIDS Day is not only December 1st but every day. Awareness, immediacy, and focus is now second nature. While I don’t wish the route needed to get here on anyone, the world would be better if others had discovered this connection to the power they have over their lives and the power to help others.
Thank you to everyone who has guided and advised me, who bolstered my bravery and foolhardy belief in myself. God bless those who were able to find strength in my story and resilience. I can and will never forget the scores of wonderful, funny, valiant, handsome and beautiful friends, and the loved ones I have lost.
Yesterday, we were faced with a tax bill that would inhibit and harm those faced with multiple forms of life challenges. We woke up this morning to that new reality. If you believe that the best part of life is loving being alive, it’s not too late to contact your Senators and Representatives—whether you love or hate them. And before a joint Bill is settled, remind them that there are children, elders, and vibrant men and women whose lives are likely about to be impacted in a bad way.
It’s a long shot to stop them. But it was a long shot for me to be typing this.
It is worth the effort.
I’m living proof.
Originally published in HIV Plus Magazine. Republished with permission.
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Photo Credit: Getty Images
