Bi-Yearly HIV Appointment - Abnormal cells, medication change & more!

I had my bi-yearly appointment with my HIV doctor yesterday. My appointment was in person, not a telephone appointment. At first I was annoyed by this, I didn't want to drive all the way downtown. However, getting to see my doctor and nurse was great. They are both so kind, friendly and energetic. It was also good to get out and have a regular appointment which provided some normalcy during these uncertain times.

My viral load is still undetectable woot woot! We are going to switch my medication from Triumeq to Dovato. Apparently,studies show that three medications in one aren't needed for people who's HIV has been stable. I'm down for that! It's still only one pill but the less medication I need to take feels like a good thing since, I take quite a few for different issues. 

Unfortunately my liver enzymes are still high. Three years ago my family doctor sent me for an ultrasound, I was told I have the beginnings of non-alcoholic fatty liver disease. Well, three years later my enzymes are still high so I have to go for another ultrasound. Thankfully I don't have to wait too long, my appointment is on August 24th. I've been trying to eat healthy, the struggle is real.

I LOVE fast food. My Mom barely cooked when I was a kid, so we ordered out a lot. Our fridge and pantry were always full, my Mom bought healthy things but when we had pizza pops and wagon wheels in full stock all the time and she was at work all the time, choosing healthy was rarely a thing. My poor brain has been loving fast food since I was a kid. When I'm happy I want fast food. When I'm sad, I want fast food. When I'm angry, I want fast food. 

I've tried over the years, many, many, many times to stop eating fast food. My doctor was like you need to eat healthy, exercise and lose weight. I said "I'm trying." I've been going for long walks. I've been increasing my fruits and veggies but sometimes the cravings for fast food are so intense. Lately I've been working on self-compassion and working on my anxiety. I keep reminding myself every time I try to quit fast food cold turkey, I always crash. So I am trying to make small changes and increase them over time. I rarely drink alcohol anymore. Last year I decided to limit drinking alcohol to help my physical and mental health. I realized even if I just have a couple of drinks, my mental health would be impacted negatively because of it. 

I also have to go see a gastroenterologist because my anal pap smears keep showing abnormal cells (atypical squamous cells of undetermined significance - ascus). A few years ago I had to have some of the cells removed for a biopsy (side note: the doctor accidentally shocked my asshole and then I awkwardly had to figure out how to put a maxi pad on - (I'm a guy) - with no help from the medical staff, I realized it attached to the underwear haha). Thankfully the biopsy didn't come back as cancerous. Fingers crossed that will be the result again.

I also have to go for tests for blood sugar and cholesterol because I haven't had those done in quite awhile.

It was quite a jam packed appointment, usually I go in and it's:

💊 Any issues taking your medications? / How many doses have you missed?

💊 Your viral load is undetectable

💊 Your shots are all up to date

💊 Here is your prescription, see you in 6 months

I am thankful that I have an awesome doctor and an awesome nurse. I am thankful that anytime I've needed a shot, the cost is covered by our healthcare. I am thankful when I've needed a procedure, I didn't have to worry about going into health care debt, that our taxes go to our healthcare. I am thankful that I can discuss my HIV and my other health issues and needs with my family and friends.

WHAT! Another diagnosis?!

I stayed in bed most of the day. I feel like garbage. I finally got out of bed around 6 pm, that was to answer the door to obtain my McDonalds I ordered. I ate too much because I'm depressed. I'm trying not to beat myself up. It's hard. I'm really angry with life always feeling so difficult. Angry I have so much wrong with me.

Recently I was diagnosed with FND - Functional Neurological Disorder. For about a year and half I think (if I think back, my migraine stroke symptoms in 2012 could be a part of this), I have been having involuntary muscle movements.

At first my family doctor thought I was having seizures and told me he was going to have my drivers licence revoked. I cried in my car. Thoughts of how much more difficult my life was going to be because I wouldn't have the freedom of driving - the transit system here isn't great. Thankfully, he consulted with a  neurologist first and called me and told me the neurologist didn't believe I was having seizures and didn't recommend revoking my drivers licence. He said he was going to refer me to the movement disorder clinic, it could take a year or so to get in. Wait. Waiting is all I could do.

My symptoms were getting worse. They were happening almost everyday. Somedays worse than others. My eyes will clamp shut. My jaw will contract to the left or right. I will twitch throughout my body. I will lose my balance as I walk. A few times I had full body episodes. Twice, I had seizure like episodes but I was fully aware of it, I didn't lose control of my bodily functions. I couldn't stop them. After they finished I felt really out of it. Couldn't think straight and felt really tired. A couple times I got up off my couch and as I went to walk my muscles starting contracting. My body was being ridiculous - I felt like a marionette, my limbs moving around, out of my control.

I made an appointment with my family doctor to let him know my symptoms were progressing. He called the neurologists office and within a couple of days I got a call, they had a cancellation and  they could get me in a few days later. That was fortunate, we all know seeing a neurologist can be a long wait. This was my 1st appointment with the neurologist. He did a bunch of movement tests and said he felt what was happening was psychological. He prescribed me clonazepam and told me to take .5 mg a day, if after 3 months my symptoms seemed to have somewhat improved, to take the medication twice a day. I ended up going to twice a day and my symptoms improved quite a bit.

A week ago I had a follow up appointment with the neurologist. He was happy to hear that my symptoms were improving. He said since the medication was working that showed him that it was on the psychological side. He stressed that doesn't mean I am making the symptoms happen, it means they aren't caused by a neurological disease but the symptoms are real. He told me to check out the website fndhope.org and that if my symptoms do get worse, to call his office to see him again.

My symptoms have been shitty this weekend - but I'm not surprised. I had a stressful week at work and realized how much I hate my job. The workload is insane, my manager is toxic and I left a toxic job believing this one would be better. On top of the stressful week at work, I get diagnosed with yet another illness.

I have HIV, Asthma, IBS, Anxiety, Bipolar, Borderline Personality Disorder, and now Functional Neurological Disorder. Oh, I also have a Hiatal Hernia, Tinnitus and sometimes Gout - might as well list them all right? Haha.

Today, I stayed in bed most of the day, ate a lot of McDonalds and then put my ass on the couch and watched t.v. And you know what, I needed today to be a depressing day. I needed today to be a woe is me day. It's been a rough week and it shouldn't be unexpected that I feel overwhelmed and sad.

Dare I Say, Thank You HIV

A life reborn, finding myself one day at a time.

7 years. 7 years ago today I was diagnosed with HIV. 2555 days with HIV. 61,320 hours with HIV.

I went to the clinic to get my results. I was sure I had HIV. My friend told me I was worrying for nothing. I didn't tell her, I had unprotected sex with an HIV positive guy. A month after having sex with him, I had the worst "flu" of my life. I could barely eat, I had no energy. I lost 20 pounds in under a month. I knew what the results were going to say.

The nurse sat me down and told me "your test came back positive." She gave the speech, "it's not a death sentence, the medications are better now days, blah blah blah." I asked her how many people she has had to tell. She said I was her first. Awe, I popped her HIV diagnosis giving cherry. I told her she was doing a good job. WTF!? Typical me, putting others needs ahead of mine. Easy to do, when you have no self worth. I saw the time and said "crap, my parking time has run out. I need to go put more money in. I'll be back, I swear."

I put more money in and went back to the clinic room. She was surprised I returned. She told me I had an appointment with the infectious disease doctor in a couple of weeks, gave me some pamphlets and asked me if I needed anything. Need anything? Seriously? In 15 minutes you told me I have HIV, you gave me a bunch of pamphlets and now I need to go to work. I don't know what the fuck I need.

I got into my car, I tried to cry, I couldn't. I just started laughing. I drove to work, as I was walking from the parkade to work I texted my friend "I have HIV." She messaged me back saying that's not funny. I told her I wasn't joking. She called me, told me everything was going to be okay and that she was here for me. Maybe a text wasn't the best way to tell someone, oops.

I took a deep breath and walked into work. I knew it was going to be a difficult night. I was working till 2 am, I just received life altering news and my job was to take escalated calls from angry dick heads who didn't get their dipping sauce for their pizza. Fuck!

It didn't take long before I lost my shit on a customer. I had a woman, who had been moving all day, she said she placed an order an hour ago and there was no record of her order. I apologized, offered a discount and to rush the order, that wasn't good enough. She started crying, complaining how she moved all day with two kids and then started yelling at me. I yelled back at her and I heard her phone drop. All of a sudden a man's voice came on the line and in a concerned tone said "um hello?" I flipped out and said "I can't deal with this shit! Good bye!" and hung up on him.

I can laugh about it now. I assume he was her husband. This poor guy is probably thinking, what the hell is going on? My wife is losing it, the pizza guy is losing it, I just want some food.

7 years later. 2555 days later. 61,320 hours later. I've changed jobs a few times, I've gone a few dates, still no relationships. I've gone to group therapy and individual therapy. I've had my struggles and I've had my successes. I've grown as a person. I've set boundaries with my father. I've become closer with my mother. My friends are fucking amazing! I have small group of friends, we've been friends since high school. 17 years of friendship and counting!

Lately I've been depressed. Working has been a big source of that. Every time I feel that I am moving forward with my health, I feel like work takes me 5 steps back. Butt! A big hairy bubble butt! Sorry wrong kind of butt. But! I have to give myself credit. Despite being depressed, I am still trying. I am still trying to eat healthy, I am still trying to make myself see my friends. This past weekend I went to a conference out of town for people living with HIV and AIDS. That was huge for me! I put myself out of my comfort zone and faced my anxiety head on.

Even though I've been depressed it doesn't have as strong of a grip on me and I can thank HIV for that. Contracting HIV was hitting rock bottom for me. Contracting HIV made me realize I needed help. It  motivated me to join that group therapy program. It got me diagnosed with Bipolar disorder. It motivated me to start individual therapy with a Psychologist. It motivated me to try new things. Did I mention I started taking singing lessons last year? Something I've always wanted to do, but was to scared to do.

HIV made me realized life is too short and it has allowed me to grow and become a better person. As I write this, tears are running down my face. Some are sad tears, because to be honest obviously I would prefer to not have HIV. BUT another big hairy bubble butt! A lot of them are happy tears, proud tears that I have turned a negative into a positive (I swear no pun was intended!).

Because of HIV, I am becoming a better version of myself.

Stuck in Between - I'm a Large and a Half

I'm frustrated, I'm angry, I'm sad. I am tired of being rejected. Whether it be trying to meet people for dating or getting laid, I get rejected...all the freaking time! I've been told, "sorry I'm only into white dudes." I understand that people have preferences, but when I look at myself in a mirror and see a white dude looking back, I wonder, what the hell is wrong with you. Then I will hear "sorry I'm only into fit guys" but then the next guy says to me "sorry I only like bigger guys." Is there no in-between category? Is there any in between sized lovers out there? Then I get told "I'm only into young guys" and then I hear "sorry I'm into older guys only." Is there no one that likes a guy in his early 30's? Next

I hear "sorry I'm into masculine guys only" and then I'm told "sorry I'm into a more feminine guy." Should I tell them about the time, when MSN Messenger still existed, that a guy said to me "is that your sister in that picture, she's really pretty." I responded with "that's me." The guy messaged back "oh, well you look nice, oh phone call, gotta go." It's like when I go shopping and try on clothes, a large doesn't fit but an extra large is way too big. I am always stuck in the middle!

When I do finally find a dude that is into a guy that's in-between all the preferences, a guy that is into a large and a half, I then have to tell them about being HIV Positive. So, I have passed the first 20 damn hurdles, received some scrapes and bruises along the way and now it's time for the pole vault and I have to vault over 20 feet to get over the next one.

If one more guy asks me if I am "clean" I am going to lose my shit. I have started responding with "yes I am clean, I have a shower every day and make sure to clean my ass before sex, now if your wondering if I am HIV Positive, the answer is yes. I am on medications and my viral load is undetectable, if you are unsure what that means, please feel free to ask questions. All I ask, is you stop asking if someone is "clean", just because I have HIV, it doesn't make me dirty."

I feel my response works two-fold, one I get to provide the sarcastic response which satisfies my bitterness and immaturity, but then I also try to educate them. I understand I am probably negating the education part by having the sarcastic response, but frankly I don't care it feels good, ha! I sometimes mention to them, that being with a guy who is honest and open about being HIV Positive and is on medications and their viral load is undetectable and you use a condom, you are going to be just safe or even safer. With someone who says they are HIV Negative, unless they are providing you a very recent copy of their test results and you can verify their id against the information on the test results, you have no way of knowing if they are telling the truth. Sadly, most of the time, they respond with sorry I just can't do it with a Poz guy.

I recently downloaded Tinder, big mistake. I quickly deleted it after a guy messaged me and said "you should be like that Subway guy Jared and eat at Subway so you can lose weight." I was on Match.com for a while and had no success. I don't know where to meet people, it is very frustrating. At this point, I have been kicked so many times, that I am starting to give up. Just resigning myself to the fact that I probably won't ever be in a romantic relationship or even get laid. Fuck.

I had a date

I had a date last weekend. I was extremely nervous. I haven't been on a date in a long time. A couple of years actually. The last time I was on a date was a few months after I was diagnosed with HIV. I joined a dating website for people living with HIV. We hung out a few times but it didn't go anywhere, mainly because he was a jackass haha. He would always make plans and cancel them. I finally had enough and told him so.

This guy isn't HIV positive, that I am aware of. We started chatting on a regular dating website. We met  for coffee. I think going for coffee for a first date is a good idea. It's nice and casual, no pressure. The date went well, we were there for two hours and had good conversation. I didn't really find him attractive, not my type. I decided it's only the first date and I'm really nervous so I won't make any snap judgements.

One of the things I worried about is, having to disclose that I am HIV positive. If we hit it off and go on more dates at what point do I tell him? Do I wait until we've gone a few dates. Who knows what the answer is.

We went on a second date, we went for dinner. Conversation was a lot more awkward this time. A few silent moments. We were struggling to find things to talk about. Again I found myself not attracted to him. Not even a tingle in my bits going on. I realized I was trying to force myself to be attracted to him. I don't have much dating experience and have had a lot of issues in the past. I really wanted this to work out. I had to take a step back and realize, I'm only thirty. I don't have to settle, I have lot's of time to meet the right guy. This is a huge change for me. If this was before going through the group therapy program, I would have kept going out on dates even though I didn't want to.

At least I didn't have to disclose about the HIV, phew! But I will have to cross that bridge eventually. Hopefully I will figure out how to do it, when the time comes.

Did I do it to myself?

I came across the quote "It's no fun to have HIV even though it's viewed as a chronic, controllable disease. It means being wedded to the health system." A man by the name of Phil Berger is credited as saying this.

I thought about this quote and how it applies to me. There have been many times I have felt guilty about contracting HIV, especially when I was first diagnosed. I've spent a lot of my life putting myself down. There has been many times when I take my medication that I think to myself, I am a burden on the health care system. Where I live, my medication is paid for by the government. Every cent. I know I am very fortunate that my medication is paid for, but sometimes it makes me feel guilty.

I have lost count how many times a friend, family member or doctor has said to me at least it's not a death sentence. I know when someone says this to me, they say it as a sign of support. But at the same time I feel like they are downplaying my illness. This says more about me and my insecurities and issues with the disease. To me it's a big deal. I have this disease that is trying to kill me. It's roaming around in my bodily fluids, attacking my body trying to destroy my immune system. I take these medications every day and everyday I have diarrhea. When I first started taking HIV medications, the first week was hell. I was extremely nauseated and vomitting. It was horrible. It was like the worst flu I have ever had.

A question needs to be answered. Did I do it to myself? Is it my fault I got HIV? Some people would say that's an easy question to answer. They would simply say yes. Yes it's your fault you got HIV. You knew that having unprotected sex could lead to you having HIV. You are the one who let the guy insert his penis in you without a condom. Do I deny that? No I don't. I did know that having unprotected sex could lead to contracting HIV. I did let the guy insert his penis in me without a condom. I didn't ask him what his status was. Other questions need to be asked. Why would I have unprotected sex, knowing I could contract HIV? Shouldn't it be human nature to protect oneself? If so, why would I risk getting HIV?

I didn't have any self worth. If I had no self worth why would I care about getting HIV? I didn't care about myself, didn't love myself. I have battled major depression throughout most of my life. As every year passed, each bout of depression got worse. As the darkness inside me grew, the more destructive things I did to try and forget about those feelings.  I would eat a lot of fast food to try and make the bad feelings go away. I would eat McDonalds, KFC, Taco Bell; as long as it was greasy I would eat it. The cravings I would get for fast food while I was depressed were intense. I felt like an addict. I would take that first bite of food and instantly I would feel better. The salt, grease and sugar would give me a temporary high. A high that didn't last very long. I would go home and go to bed feeling disgusting. These feelings would follow me to the next day. I needed to get rid of these feelings so I would go and have sex.

When I first started being promiscuous in high school, I would mainly just have oral sex. Once in awhile I would have anal sex. If I did have anal sex it was always with a condom. As the years went on, once in awhile I would have sex without a condom, but I would tell the guy he couldn't ejaculate inside me. Then that didn't give me the high I need to mask my feelings, so I started letting the guys ejaculate inside me. Sometimes I would freak out that I might get HIV, but normally I wouldn't. I didn't give a fuck, I didn't like myself, a lot of times I hated myself. This was my punishment. I never thought to myself, I hope I get HIV, or I am going to have unprotected sex to get HIV. But deep down I thought to myself, if I do happen to get it, I would deserve it.

After awhile the high was weakening, so I was having sex with more and more guys, more often. I would meet guys from websites online and I would go to the bathhouse. I would try and have sex with as many guys as possible. I needed to keep the high going. When I was feeling disgusted with myself for having unprotected sex, I would go and eat fast food. When I would feel disgusted with myself for eating so much, I would go and have sex. It was a vicious cycle I was caught in, I couldn't get out. I couldn't tell anyone, because I was too embarrassed, too ashamed. HIV has a stigma attached to it, so do mental health issues. I didn't feel like I could tell anyone, I would be judged, I would be hated. No one would understand. So I kept it all in. Because I kept it all in I kept acting out in destructive ways.

Why didn't I have any self worth. For me to answer that question I need to look back at my childhood. Just a few months ago I wouldn't have been able to answer this question. After spending four months in an intensive group therapy program I can answer it. My parents fought, they fought a lot. I remember when I was seven, I was in my room sleeping. I woke up to my mom and dad yelling at each other. I could hear my dad threatening to kill himself. I heard my mom yell to my sister to hide the knives. Then I heard my mom yell, call the police. My sister did call the police, apparently the SWAT team showed up. I was upstairs all alone, frightened not understanding what was going on. I have another memory from when I was seven. It was summer time and the neighbourhood kids and I were having a water fight. One of the neighbours, a grown man joined in and was shooting us with a water gun from his back door. He kept running inside and closing the door so we couldn't get him wet. Well being seven I thought I was all smart, and decided to engage the lock on his door when he wasn't looking so when he closed the door behind him so we wouldn't get water in his house, he would be locked out so we could get him wet. I didn't think about how he would get back inside - I was seven. Well he tried to go back inside and the door was locked. He lost it. He came out of the back yard, started yelling and yelled who the fuck locked my door? The kids pointed at me. He came at me, grabbed me and started walking towards the managers place of the townhouse complex we lived in. I was scared and I was screaming and crying. I kept asking him to let me go, he was holding me so tight it hurt to breathe. He told me to shut the fuck up and slapped me across my face and side of the head. I told him if he put me down and let me walk I would stop crying. He put me down and I made a break for it. I didn't get very far, he grabbed me and hit me again. My friends ran to my house and got my dad. My dad came flying around the corner. My dad told me to go home. Surprisingly my dad somehow kept his temper in check and  didn't kill him. My dad called the police and I had to tell them what happened. It turned out the guy was drunk. After that it was never spoken of. My mom and dad never asked me if I was okay, it just was never spoken of. My mom and dad split up when I was eight. My sister rebelled my getting into crime. My brother dealt with it by getting involved in sports. I was the forgotten one. My mom worked all the time, because she was depressed. She would go to work at five in the morning and not get home till eight or nine at night. I basically raised myself. It was very lonely. I never had anyone to talk to, I never had anyone teach me how to deal with my feelings properly. I was bullied a lot in school. The boys would take my clothes and put them in the shower so I would have to walk around in my gym clothes all day. The one time I tried to tell my mom what was happening the response I got was "other kids have it worse. It can't be that bad." So I held my feelings in, no one cared. My teachers knew this was happening, they didn't do anything. No one cared, why should I? When I was twelve I was raped in a public washroom by an older man. I kept that in, again why would I tell anyone? No one would probably believe me. There are many other traumatic events that have happened but the point is, my childhood had a huge impact on who I am today. So when someone says how could you be so stupid for contacting HIV, you should know better? My response is going to be "no I shouldn't have known better. How could I have known better. No one taught me any different. No one was there for me. Going through the group therapy program and looking back at my childhood I am not shocked that I contracted HIV. I am shocked I didn't contact any other diseases, I am shocked I didn't develop a drinking problem or a drug problem to cope.

My point is contracting HIV is not a black and white issue. There are a lot of grey areas. A lot of it comes down to circumstance and mental health. There will never be an easy answer, but if we never talk about it honestly and openly then we will never find an answer. This has been extremely difficult for me to write. Even though my blog is anonymous, I still find it embarrassing to admit some of these things. At the same time, it has been therapeutic and if it can just help a few people by sharing these intimate details then that makes me happy. It's funny, I didn't originally plan for this post to be so long and so detailed. I originally just meant to write about what the quote meant to me and how I feel like a burden on the healthcare system. It's interesting how a simple quote was able to bring up so much for me. Thanks for listening.

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I Have HIV

I have HIV

I feel alone sad and hopeless

I have HIV

I need somebody to stand by me

I have HIV 

I deserve to be happy

I want to smile

I have HIV 

Please be there for me

I have HIV 

I'm strong I'm brave I'm bold

I have friends and family

I have HIV

I am loved and love myself

I am happy I am healthy I am strong

I have HIV; HIV doesn't have me 

Group Therapy Post #3 - One Step at a Time

It's Valentines Day. Fucking happy people in their fucking happy relationships. I choose to believe they are pretending to be happy. I see a couple walking, holding hands, smiling at each other, I want to vomit. Secretly, I choose to believe they hate each other and get into fist fights every night, no one can truly be that happy. I find it easier to judge others and be angry at others than deal with my own issues.

The walls are supposed to be white, they look like they haven't been cleaned in years. The chair I am sitting in is extremely uncomfortable. A butt plug with spikes on it would be more comfortable in my ass than this chair I am sitting in. Maybe these chairs are part of the process, if they make you angry enough and you go postal they commit you. I am sitting in the waiting room of the Psychiatry clinic at the hospital. I am here for the assessment. Am I Bipolar? What if I am? It would explain my crazy mood swings, but I don't go days on end with no sleep. I love sleep! Sometimes I sleep for 16 hours. If I am sleeping I don't have to think about my horrible life. If I am sleeping I don't feel the pain, the sadness. If I am sleeping I don't have to think about the dark gloomy cloud hanging over me. If I am sleeping, I can hide. It's 8:15 am, the assessment doesn't start until 8:30 am. There are a few other people in the waiting room with me. One person in particular stands out. I look over and in the corner sits a man, looks like he is in his late twenties maybe early thirties. He looks exhausted, like he hasn't slept in days. He has dark brown hair and his face is stubbly. He looks miserable, I feel sad for him. 8:30 am finally rolls around and the receptionist pulls back the beige partition that closes the receptionist desk. Looking at the beige partition it just confirms that they haven't done any renovations since 1985. The receptionist says anyone here for the assessment, please come here and sign in. I leap out of my seat and rush to the receptionist desk. I want my name to be first on the list, I want to be out of here as soon as possible. She hands me a clipboard with papers to fill out. When I first called the clinic they told me the assessment would take between 2-3 hours. Looking at how many pages I fill out, I might be here all week. My anxiety is through the roof. I sit back down and nervously wait for my name to be called. I start filling out the paper work.  My brain is running a mile a minute. Why am I here I think to myself? Is that what they are going to ask me? I am here because I am severely depressed all the time, I am stressed out, I have anxiety, I can be super happy and hyper then go back into a deep depression. But why? Why am I like this? I don't fucking know. I guess if I knew I wouldn't be here. Jesus I'm crazy. I really wish I had a giant iced cappuccino right now. When my anxiety is running through me I like to eat and drink unhealthy. I sit in this torture chair and think to myself, I can run away. I don't have to do this. What are they going to do? Probably just increase my anti-depressants. Tell me it's all in my head. 

Jared, please come with me I hear. Fuck it's now or never. I stand up and look at the person who called my name. It's a man, he looks nice, hair a little weird, probably in his 40's. Fuck it, I have nothing to lose, I follow him. He takes me to his office and tells me to have a seat. His office is depressing. It's small, it also looks like it is from 1985 and the lighting is brutal. He says his name is Bob and he is one of the therapists at the clinic. He starts off by asking what brings me here. I reply with I keep going through bad bouts of depression. As the years go on the bouts get worse and last longer. I went to my family doctor and told him I can go from being super depressed to really hyper, happy with a positive outlook on life and that it is mentally exhausting. I said my family doctor felt like that sounded like Bipolar but he isn't an expert in that and advised I should see a psychiatrist. Bob replied with do you go days on end without any sleep? I said no I don't, but all my life I have always slept more that normal. I tell him when I was a baby my Dad told me I slept so much that he would panic and wake me up to feed me. Your not Bipolar if you don't go days on end without sleep, he says. He proceeds to ask me many questions. I am pissed off that he dismissed the Bipolar disorder so quickly. If I'm not Bipolar then what am I? There has to be a reason, why I am like this? 

He asks me what my childhood was like. I tell him I was bullied a lot in school. He asks why I was bullied? I replied with I was a dork and people liked to pick on me. Also people would say I'm weak and call me a faggot. I mention that in gym class some of the boys would take my clothes and soak them in the shower so I would have to walk around in my gym clothes all day. He asks me are you gay? I said yes I am. He asks how do you handle feeling depressed? I replied I normally would hide in my room and sleep. I will sleep anywhere from 10 to 16 hours. When I am not sleeping, I will eat fast food, drink pop, slurpees, iced capps. I will have sex, a lot of sex. He asks you can be quite promiscuous? I said yes.  He asks, I see you put on the form you have HIV? Yes I do, I was diagnosed March 1st 2010. How has that been for you? he asks. It hasn't been easy, I say. I am angry with myself for getting HIV. He asks me what I would like to get out of therapy? I struggle to find an answer. I say I just want to be happy, I want to learn coping mechanisms to deal with the depression, anxiety and stress. He says do you know why you go into bad depressions? I said I don't know, I just do. I hate life most of the time. He asks, have you heard of the saying, don't cry over spilled milk? I reply yes. He asks me what does that mean to you? Don't sweat the small things I say. He asks me have you heard of the saying the river runs deep? Yes I say. He says I think with you, the river runs deep, very deep. He mentions to me that they have a program, call the Evening Treatment Program. It is a group therapy program, it is very intensive, it runs for 18 and a half weeks. It's requires quite a bit of commitment. It looks at your childhood and how it's impacted you. Is this something you would be interested in doing? I said yes if you think it can really help me. He said well let me talk to the Psychiatrist and review your file with her and we will meet with you at 10:30 am? That’s about an hour and a half away so if you like, you can go grab breakfast, just make sure you’re in the waiting room for 10:30 am. I said okay sounds good. I walk out of the office, down the hallway and exit the psychiatric clinic. I let out a huge sigh of relief. I say to myself, good job Jared, I'm glad I did this. Even though I am glad I came here, my anxiety is still through the roof. 

I walk across the street to Tim Horton’s and get a breakfast sandwich and a giant iced capp. I sit down and take my first sip of the iced capp. The sugary, creamy, coffee flavour hits my tongue, slides down my throat. Ahhhh so good. I'm nervous about meeting with the Psychiatrist. I've never met with a Psychiatrist before; I have heard mixed reviews from people about Psychiatrists. It seems sometimes you get someone who cares and sometimes you just get a dick head. I really liked the Bob guy, he seemed like he really cared. In the assessment he asked me if I wanted to stop being promiscuous and have a committed relationship. I looked at him embarrassed and said yes, but I'm too scared. Why would someone want to be with me if I am so messed up? I sit in Tim Horton’s, drinking my iced capp, staring out the window, thinking about my meeting with Bob. What the fuck has brought me here? Seriously, what has happened that I get so depressed? Why does life have to be so fucking hard? 

It's time for me to meet with the Psychiatrist. My heart is ready to jump out of my chest. I'm sitting in the waiting room, waiting for Bob. He shows up and asks me to come with him. I walk behind him down the hallway. We go around the corner and into the office. It's a woman Psychiatrist this relives me. I prefer a woman to a man, except for Bob, there is something about him that makes me feel instantly comfortable with him. The Psychiatrist introduces herself and asks me to take a seat. I go to sit down and I fall into the chair, holy crap this chair is low I say. She starts asking me some of the same questions Bob asked me. Why am I here? What has been going on? What happens when I feel depressed? She asks me about the stress at work and why I am on Short Term Disability leave. She tells me that the 50 mg a day of Zoloft I am on is a really low dose, that we should increase it to 100 mg a day. I am fine with that I say. She tells me to take 75 mg a day for two weeks and then 100 mg a day going forward. She asks me how I found out about the Psychiatric/Therapy clinic. I told her I had an appointment with my family doctor, and how he thought maybe I was Bipolar and he mentioned there was walk in clinics at the U of A and Royal Alex. So I researched it online, came across the U of A one, called and then came in. She asks me questions to figure out if I am Bipolar. She says the same thing as Bob, I don't go days on end with no sleep so it doesn't sound like Bipolar. She agrees with Bob's recommendation, that the Evening Treatment Program would be beneficial for me, to figure out the core issues related to my depression and to work through the feelings. She says she will forward my information to the Evening Treatment Team and they will contact me to setup an appointment to meet with them. I leave the clinic with my prescription of Zoloft and a follow up appointment with Bob next week. I am scared but also looking forward to getting past this depression. I go home exhausted and sleep for several hours.

My Disease is worse than yours

Yesterday I was reading various tweets on Twitter and clicked on a link to an article about HIV. It talked about how HIV isn't a death sentence anymore. It also talked about how HIV is compared to having diabetes - both are considered manageable diseases. In the comments section of the article, people were arguing about how their disease is worse than HIV. Specifically there were people arguing about whether having HIV or Diabetes was worse.

When I was first diagnosed with HIV a few thoughts ran through my head. How bad is this? Am I going to die right away? If I go on medications will I have horrible side effects? Will my friends and family still love me? And so on. The next week I met with my HIV doctor, an infectious disease specialist. The first thing he said to me is, HIV isn't a death sentence, it's like having diabetes. Both are manageable chronic illnesses. Both require daily medications to control the disease. Both can result in death or other illnesses if not managed properly. Type 1 Diabetics have to inject insulin everyday. I get to swallow pills. Both HIV and Type 1 Diabetes have no cure.

According to the Mayo Clinic website, the theory behind Type 1 Diabetes is the immune system destroys insulin producing islet cells. Complications of Type 1 Diabetes include:

• Heart and blood vessel disease
• Neuropathy
• Kidney damage
• Eye Damage
• Foot Damage
• Skin and mouth conditions
• Osteoporosis

According to the Mayo Clinic website, HIV destroys CD4 cells which play a roll in protecting the immune system. When CD4 cells are destroyed, the immune system becomes compromised. Complications include:

• Tuberculosis
• Cytomegalovirus (can cause damage to eyes, digestive tract and more)
• Neuropathy
• Kidney Disease
• Cryptococcal Meningitis
• Kaposi's Sarcoma

You're probably wondering why I am comparing the diseases. The reason I am comparing them, is I want to know, is one disease truly worse than the other? I don't believe so. Both diseases are horrible diseases to have. Both diseases affect quality of life. Both diseases can lead to serious complications and/or death. Looking at the complications, they are quite similar and serious in nature. Both can result in neuropathy, kidney damage and damage to the eyes. Is it fair to say my disease is worse than yours? I don't believe so. Is it fair to say some diseases are more serious than others? Absolutely. At the end of the day, how bad a disease is for someone is for that person to decide. 

I was shocked to see how many people in the comment sections of that article were trying to say "their disease was worse than someone else's, or worse than HIV. I think as human beings, not all, but a lot like to have a pity party. It helps us deal with what is affecting us. I don't agree with saying my disease is worse than yours. I don't know how your disease affects you, I am not you. I only know how my disease affects me. If it's horrible to me, then it's horrible. If your disease is horrible for you, then it's horrible. It's all relative to that person, to their circumstances, their life. 

Instead of judging each other and trying to compete with each other, using are diseases as a game, let's show compassion for each other. Let's try to understand each other and be there for each other.

Medications

I just took my HIV medications, as I normally do every night, around this time. After I downed the third pill, I sat there, staring at the prescription bottles. I realized how fortunate I am. Yes I have a horrible disease. Yes the disease isn't a "death sentence" anymore, BUT it's still a very serious disease that kills too many people. At the same time how lucky am I, I only have to take three pills a day to control the disease. In my province where I live, they pay for my medications. I don't pay a cent - in the beginning I had a lot of guilt over this. But as I went through group therapy and explored my issues, my mental health and childhood, I realized getting HIV wasn't black or white. It was a lot more complicated than just saying "I did it to myself." As I ramble on, my point is, I hate having this horrible disease but at the same time I an consider myself fortunate.

Health Update - Fake stroke and falling asleep while pooping

I had my latest appointment with my HIV specialist a couple of weeks ago. CD4 cells were 640 and my viral load is still undetectable. YAY! I was on Atripla for over a year, but I couldn't handle the side effects anymore. I kept having such vivid, intense dreams every night it felt like I wasn't sleeping at all. In August I told my doctor and we switched my meds to Truvada, Reyataz and Norvir. I haven't been having crazy dreams and my sleeping has been much much better. Going through group therapy made me realize, I need to learn to speak up. Just because I have HIV doesn't mean I don't deserve to have a good quality of life. I've spent a lot of time feeling guilty for contracting HIV and group therapy has helped me learn how to forgive myself.

In other health matters, things have not been going so well. Starting in September I started having fatigue. I assumed that it was from being in group therapy four hours a day and once I was done I would start feeling better. I finished group therapy at the end of September and the fatigue has been getting worse and worse. I am extremely exhausted every single day. Thankfully I am still on medical leave from being in the group therapy, so I am only working 4 hours a day. I work from 8 am to 12 pm and it feels like I worked a sixteen hour shift. I go home and nap for 4-5 hours and then I have no problem sleeping my regular 7-8 hours a night.

Everything I do makes me tired and short of breath. Walking to the basement to do laundry, makes me tired and short of breath. It's ridiculous. A couple of weeks ago I shovelled the side walks and thought I was going to die I was so tired and out of breath. I went in the house (I can't believe I am going to share this) and had to go to the washroom. I was sitting on the toilet and...... I fell asleep! Yup that is correct, I fell asleep while pooping. WTF?! Who falls asleep while pooping? Not normal. I told my doctor about all this and his response was that it was probably my depression that was making me so tired. He suggested I go back on an anti-depressant. I told him I wasn't feeling depressed, I told him that I don't feel sad and I'm not withdrawing from friends and family. He said to just give the anti-depressant a try. I filled the prescription for the Celexa and after a few weeks, I let him know my mood was really great on the Celexa but I was still feeling exhausted and sleeping a lot. (My friends said I seemed so cute, happy and jolly - tee hee) I had also been to the hospital in that time because I was having troubles breathing and having chest pains.

The hospital ran a lot of blood tests, checked my thyroid, checked for infections, all came back normal. They took a stool sample (the highlight of that was when the nurse yelled down the hall to me - while I was waiting to get my chest x-ray) - she yelled "Jared is this your stool sample in here?" Yup, thanks for letting everyone know, I crapped into a container. All the tests and chest x-ray came back normal, they sent me home. Most recently my doctor sent me for a sleep apnea test and stress test. I have an appointment with him on Tuesday to review the results.

Then I have been having weird, creepy stroke symptoms. A few weeks ago I woke up and I had this weird numbness on the left side of my face and my left arm felt a little weak. I went to work and joked with my co-worker that I was probably having a stroke. After work I went to Arby's, I'm sitting there eating my sandwich and my hands won't work. I am trying to pick up the sandwich, I know how to pick up a sandwich, but my hands just won't do what I want them to do. I am freaking out, trying not to cry. After a couple of minutes I finally manage to get the sandwich into my hands,  but my mouth won't work. I am trying to bite and chew but my brain says nope, not today! The food just falls out of my mouth. After a couple of minutes my hands and mouth start working again but now I feel dizzy and really out of it. I keep thinking to myself, I need to get home, need to get home. I get up and drive home. Thankfully I made it home safely. I walk in the door and my roommate (my friend of eleven years), can instantly tell somethings wrong. She looks at me and says "what's wrong." I'm trying to respond but I can't find the words, all I can get out is "my brain won't work." "Umm what happened" she responds. I try to tell her about the Arby's incident, later she tells me I was talking really slow and slurring some of my words. I tell her about my hand's and mouth not working, she says "umm I think your having a stroke, I am taking you to the hospital."

Off to the hospital we go. I had to wait an hour to get in, which is extremely fast compared to the time I had appendicitis and had to wait seven hours to be seen. The triage nurse is asking me questions, it's taking me forever to respond. She asks me to spell my name and I just stare at her blankly. I get brought in and they do some neurological tests. My left arm, hand and left leg are considerably weaker than my right side, which worries them. They shine light in my eyes and I want to punch them in the face it hurts so much. The week before when I was in the hospital, they put the light in my eyes and I didn't even flinch. They give me two chewable advils and tell me they are going to send me for a CT scan. I see the head doctor in the distance, my he is good looking. I am wheeled to the CT scan and the CT technologist is also quite good looking. I think to myself, is this Grey's Anatomy? They complete the CT scan of my head and send me back. The guy taking me back is very cute. Do they schedule all the good looking people to work at the same time? Or is my stroke making everyone seem good looking? Who knows. My friend and I wait and wait and finally the neurologist comes.

CT scan came back normal, which is good but a CT scan won't always show if there is a stroke. They want to do an MRI but can't do one till morning, so I was admitted and had to stay overnight for observation. The next morning I have my MRI. Oh my lord, the MRI machine is loud. It sounds like someone is doing construction right next to your head. Is this machine from 1935? After thirty minutes the MRI is finally down. Back up to my room I go. The head neurologist comes up and says my MRI has come back normal. Definitely not a stroke. She says they think my symptoms are being caused by a migraine with aura. I respond with "but I don't have a headache." She tells me that can happen sometimes. I look at her skeptically. She asks me how the numbness is and I tell her it's still there but not as bad as the day before. She said that's good, that they are going to send me home. She tells me if it doesn't go away in a couple of days or get's worse to come back to the ER.

Well two days later it's worse. My hand keeps seizing/locking up, the numbess is in the left side of my neck, my ears, and the back of my head. I am nauseated off an on. I go back to the ER, wait three hours to be seen. The doctor says they are going to give me some migraine medications via IV and an anti-nauseant via the IV. I get my IV, I get my meds and the numbess starts going away. Yay, maybe it is just a creepy migraine with aura with no headache I am having. The doctor writes me a prescription and I leave. WELL! I am driving home and the numbess comes back with a vengance. It goes from my left temple, my left ear and to the bottom of my jaw. I am angry and refuse to go back to the hospital. I go home and go to bed. The next day, I decide to fill the prescription, maybe it just needs a few days to work. NOPE! Medication was definitely making it worse. I stopped the medication and went to my family doctor. I told him what happened and he looked at me with a WTF look. He prescribes me a different migraine medication - Flunarizine. I fill that medication and start taking it. I have been on it for two weeks now and no improvement. On the plus side it hasn't made things worse. If this truly is a migraine with aura with no headache, is it then the longest migraine ever? This past Friday my symptoms were really bad. Numbness on the side of my face, my left hand kept seizing/locking up, especially when I had to do things at work like remove a paper clip. It's been extremely frustrating and scary. Whenever I google/research my symptoms, MS always comes up. Whatever it is, I hope we figure it out soon and hope it's treatable.

Group Therapy Post # 2

It's Saturday, I am nervous heading to my doctor's appointment. My anxiety is through the roof. I hate talking about such personal issues. I hate admitting it's a problem. I want to give up. I walk into the doctor's office and check in for my appointment. I sit in the waiting room, staring at the ugly pale pink wall colour, thinking about what I should say. I am shaking my foot up and down trying to control the anxiety, it's not working. Jared, come to room two I hear. I walk into the room. The nurse asks me what I am hear for, I nervously say "depression" in a weak voice. She tells me it's okay, that it takes courage to come in and get help. She closes the door and I wait for the doctor.

I am staring at the poster on the wall, it has pictures of damaged ear drums. It's quite disgusting, it temporarily distracts me from my anxiety. My doctor walks in, he asks me how I am doing. I tell him horrible. I say to him "I feel depressed, I am stressed out and have constant anxiety." I tell him that one moment I can be super happy, very hyper and on top of the world. I will eat healthy, lose weight and be productive. Then the next moment I will hate life, eat really poorly and want to give up. It makes me feel like a crazy person. My doctor responds with "it sounds like you might have bipolar but I am not sure as that is not my area of expertise." "That is what I have been thinking as well, I have been reading up on it and I was wondering if I should see a psychiatrist" I said. He said that might be a good idea and advised me that there are Psychiatry walk in clinics at the U of A hospital and at the Royal Alex hospital. I also told him I can't go back to work, it's too stressful. My blood pressure has been through the roof. A couple of weeks earlier I was at the Endocrinologists office and they took my blood pressure and they were so concerned it was high, that they didn't want me to go back to work for the rest of the day. I asked him if I brought short term disability forms would he fill them out. He said yes. I asked him if he could write me a doctors note stating I need to be off work immediately.  I left the doctors appointment with my note and went straight home.

 As soon as I got home, I pulled out my Macbook and typed in Alberta Health Services in google. I went to the website and starting searching. A couple of hours later (it felt like a billion years later) I think I found what I needed. It was titled Psychiatric Treatment Clinic - U of A. It was the weekend so unfortunately they weren't open. As soon as Monday morning rolled around I gave them a call. They explained I would need to come in for an assessment. They do assessments at 830 am and 1230 pm daily. I went to work and told my manager I need to speak with her in private. We went to a meeting room and I told her I can't handle the stress anymore. I told her I also felt exhausted all the time because of my "chronic illness". She doesn't know that my chronic illness is HIV. I told her I have a doctor's note advising I need to be off work immediately. She told me she understood and hoped I felt better soon and asked me if I would be staying for the day. I said my doctor wants me off immediately but I will stay for a half a day to wrap things up. I went to my desk and wrote up instructions for a certain type of invoices that I am the only one that processes. I changed my voicemail to say I will be out of the office until further notice and put an out of office reply on my e-mail. I left work and felt relief I wouldn't have to be going back for a while. I went home and slept for twelve hours.

It's been quite awhile

Wow, I haven't written a post in over two years. It's been an intense two years, but I truly can say I am a better person. I've changed jobs a few times, went through a group therapy program and more. I've decided I will revive the blog. I was shocked to see how many people have viewed it.

After my last blog post, I quit writing because I felt that writing about having HIV was letting HIV define me as a person. I have realized that HIV doesn't define me as a person. Only I can define me. Yes, HIV is a part of me, but I don't have to let it make me who I am.

I will talk about having HIV in this blog but I will also talk about going through group therapy and my life in general. The group therapy has helped me realize, holding in my thoughts and feelings is unhealthy. I am entitled to my feelings and entitled to express them. I've spent most of my life punishing myself and I am finally realizing I don't deserved to be punished. I have been through a lot of traumatic events in my life. Everyday is a challenge but a challenge I now feel I can face. I hope by writing this blog it will be therapeutic for me and help others as well.

Can't I just hide in my bed?

I just want to stay in bed, everyday, all day. I don't have the energy to deal with all this crap.

Let's take a step back and update what has been going on, since it has been a while since I have posted. I went to the Infectious Disease Specialist on March 31st. My blood tests weren't too bad. My CD4's are 450, normal levels are 500 - 1500. While mine are below the normal level, it isn't so low that I have to start HIV meds right away - yay! My viral load is 21000, which isn't great but isn't horrible as well. My uric acid levels came back a bit high - so I have to cut down on the red meat and booze - sadness - 2 of my favorite things haha.

The ID doctor was really nice. At first I thought, hmmm the appointment went really well, But then I had a few days to think about it. I realize the appointment was really quick - less than 30 minutes. He went over what HIV is, how it affects my health, that I will have to go for blood tests every three months, and that I don't need to go on medication right away. He asked me if I had any questions - my mind was blank - I was so nervous I couldn't remember what questions I had. I even wrote them down so I wouldn't forget.... but I forgot the paper with my questions in my car lol. He said okay see you in three months. The nurse came out and said okay, let's go get your hepatitis B shot done. While we are walking to the room, I ask "so do I make the appointment for my next blood tests right now?" She said "yeah if you want." I just wanted to get out of there so I said I would just call and make the appointment. During the appointment he asked me if he could send my family doctor a letter stating that I am HIV positive. I told him of course, it's important that he knows. Now that I mention that, I am thinking what things do I go to my family doctor for and what things should I go to my ID doctor for? Also during the appointment, when he was telling me I need to cut down on the red meat, I mentioned that I had been depressed lately and when I am depressed I eat a LOT of fast food. He said "you know McDonalds has salads right?" I wanted to be like "you know I could piss in your face right?" If if was that easy don't you think I would eat the fucking salad! And then I start thinking, ummm shouldn't you have maybe touched on the depression??? He didn't ask me how bad it was or if I needed help at all. Next appointment, I will remember my piece of paper with questions! And there will be many many questions. Also I realize I need to step up, grow a pair, and express what I need from him as my doctor. He's not a mind reader.

On to the next thing. So recently I was hanging out with a group of friends and our one friend was telling us about his crazy roommate and how he finally kicked him out. First I should mention this group of friends I was hanging out with do not know I have HIV. So my friend is talking about his ex-roommate and he mentions that he found out his roommate was HIV positive. It was hard for me not to react, hard for me not to give away my secret. I sat there, looking at everyone, palms getting sweating, heart racing, feeling like they know my secret, just because the word HIV has been spoken. My friend goes on to say that his mom bought him a new mattress because his ex-roommate had slept in his bed when he wasn't home sometimes and she didn't want him "getting" anything. The rage I felt. I calmly said "you know HIV isn't an airborne disease right?" They said, well obviously, but still. Then my other friend goes on to say "would you want to be living with someone who has HIV?" CRACK! my heart falls to pieces. I had to bite my inner lip so tears wouldn't come. I sat there staring at the roof, thinking, I guess I will never be telling her. It really hurts, because these are really close friends. I have a small group of friends all of them very close to me. I don't just have "acquaintances." I am so afraid I will lose them over this. All because of their ignorance, because they haven't been properly educated. A couple of weeks ago I was hanging out with them, and my friend was talking about how her brother was telling their mom he eats a lot because he is depressed. His mom said " what are you talking about depressed, only women get depressed." My friends thought this was the most hilarious comment ever. The one friend who said "would you want to live with a person who has HIV?" said haha I love it, it's so true, men getting depressed, that's stupid. I've only known for a month and half that I am HIV positive.... it feels like I have known for a year.

I am very behind on my bills... verrrry. I have three credit cards that I am past due on - that amounts to many many collection calls a day. I never answer them, but it still stresses me out when they call. I know I should deal with it, I just can't. I just want to runaway and hide. Maybe grab a tent and go hide out in the woods somewhere. I would call to make payment arrangements - but I don't have the money to pay anything. I don't have any money because of an evil thing called overdraft. Being depressed is a vicious fucking circle. When I am depressed, I usually go online to hook up(which led to me having HIV), after I hook up I am even more depressed so I go and get fast food, also I would spend money on stupid things, going to the dollar store and buying things I don't need, buying underwear at Calvin Klein because it's on sale, buying clothes at H&M - doing all this to make myself feel better. Well I ended up using my overdraft to pay my car insurance, rent and car payment because I had spent my actual money on all this stupid crap. Well now I can't get caught up. Overdraft is exactly like getting a pay day loan. I can't catch up. My paycheck is automatically deposited so when it gets deposited it goes right to the overdraft. Since it all goes to the overdraft, then I end up having to use the overdraft again to pay bills, buy food, etc. I keep meaning to call to make an appointment to see a bankruptcy trustee, to see if they can setup payment arrangements or see if I will have to claim bankruptcy but even then - until I can get caught up from the overdraft I can't afford to make payments or even if I claim bankruptcy you have to make a payment every month for nine months based on your income - I can't afford this payment - I can't afford to claim bankruptcy - hahahahaha life is so fucked.

Work is another difficult thing. I work in a call center taking complaints for pizza. For freaking pizza. Someone doesn't get their dipping sauce - well they think it's perfectly acceptable to yell scream, swear and berate me. Can't get your ham diced? OMG your life is over. Since finding out I have HIV, my patience is very thin dealing with these fucktards! I just want to yell out - I found out I have a disease that can't be cured and your yelling at me about pepperoni!!! I have been very short with customers. I wish I could take a month off, try and get my life sorted out, but as we know I am poor so it's not like I can afford to take time off work.

I am very frustrated with life and very angry at myself for letting this happen.

I fail.

I showed up for my appointment, yay!

So, I show up for my appointment. It probably helped that my good friend was coming with me for support. We met a half an hour before the appointment at a coffee shop.

I started the day, not wanting to get out of bed. I love sleep and I love my bed. I truly do. BUT, I got my ass out of bed at 11:30 am, I can't remember the last time I got out of bed before noon. Oh wait I remember, it was when I had a horrible experience at an employment agency and I was told I couldn't have the job because I had two late payments on my credit report... but that's a whole other story.

So, I got out of bed and had a shower. I then blow dried my hair and decided to flat iron my hair... I know, could I be any more gay! My flat iron is awesome! My friend bought it for me, she's a hair dresser, it's so tiny and cute. So anyways, after flat ironing my hair I realized I was behind schedule, so I didn't have time for breakfast.

I was two minutes late meeting my friend; I was late for good reason though, I parked 10 blocks away for free parking and walked all the way to meet her, it was a way to get exercise..... yes that's why I did it... exercise haha.

I ordered a caffee latte, I should mention I hate the taste of coffee. I was assuming it would be creamy like chai lattes I get, but oh no, I was wrong. Coffee to me, tastes like dirt. So I went to the counter to get sugar; well I almost put salt packets in my coffee, but thankfully the coffee gal working pointed me in the direction of the sugar. I put some sugar and milk in it... and then it tasted wonderful. Now I was all jittery from not eating and drinking coffee. My appointment was at the STD clinic... they have a doctors clinic there. To get to the reception desk, you have to walk down a long hallway. I like to call it the "walk of shame". One of these days, I really want to burst to in an exam room and say "how's that q-tip in your penis?".

So we get to the reception desk and the woman in the chair looks at me and then walks away. There are 6 other people and they are having a conversation. All I ask is to be acknowledged. Just a "hi, we will be right with you would suffice." But noooo that would be too simple. So anyways someone finally acknowledges me and tells me to have a seat.

S0 the doctor comes and gets me and we go to one of the rooms. She asks me if I have a list of my partners from January 2008, oops I thought they wanted from January 2009, not like it matters because I could only provide a list of three people. Unfortunately, most of my partners were anonymous that I either met offline or at a bathhouse. I'm not proud of it, I wish I would have had the ability to seek help for my depression, but I didn't. What's done is done. Need to look forward.

So then she asks me if I would like a book on HIV. I tell her yes I would . She hands me the book. This book is like a freaking text book! It has 22 chapters! Then I get on the bed thingy (I can't remember what it's called, I have had a couple of coconut rum and pepsi lime drinks while writing this... tee hee). She puts the rubber band around my right arm but can't find a vein. The she ties it around my left arm and finds a usable vein. While she is doing this I think about my appointment two weeks ago, when the nurse was trying to find my vein and kept calling my veins little buggers (best nurse ever by the way, I have never laughed so much at a doctors appointment). So anyways, she puts the needle in and jokes that I probably won't need a blood transfusion after. I ask her how many viles of blood she is taking and she tells me 11. I think to myself "shit, I should have had some breakfast." I am staring at the roof and the air vent catches my attention, it's effing crusty. It's all brown and dusty. What the hell?? It looks like someone took a shit on the roof.

Then she asks me what I do for a living. I tell her I work in a call center for a pizza company taking complaints. I go on about how people are passionate about their pizzas and that the world comes to an end when we forget their dipping sauce. She starts laughing and says she couldn't do my job, she would just end up telling people off. So finally she is done stealing all the blood out of my body. She leaves the room via the side door, and then come backs through another door. She says ha! I am houdini! I laugh, and think to myself, wow I am lucky that I have such awesome nurses/doctors to deal with. She tells me they take so much blood to test me for everything and anything such as tuberculosis and stuff. She hands me a form to go get chest x-rays taken, which also tests for tuberculosis.

A few thoughts go through my mind. First one is: this is what my life is going to be, constant medical test the rest of my life, fuck! Next I think thankfully I live in Canada and this is all covered by healthcare because right now I have no money (that is a whole other story I have to talk about).

So I leave the room and go to the waiting room where my friend is waiting for me. We leave and we go run some errands she has to do. We are at an office, she has some forms to fill out. I am standing beside her and start to feel light headed. I remember that I didn't eat breakfast and had 11 viles of blood taken, soooo maybe I should have something to eat. So when she is done, we head to the food court. This is the weakest food court I have ever seen. I am a food court connoisseur. I demand that I have selection! There is like 3 things to choose from. So I end up eating teriyaki chicken stir fry. It was good, but I still like to have options. I come home and take all my clean laundry off the floor and finally hang it up. I then watch the last half of hour of America's Next Top Model and realize why I stopped watching the show.... Tyra is freaking annoying!

Well that's my day, I know I rambled but it feels good to talk about what happened, to talk about the good, the bad and even the insignificant details of my day.

Tee hee. ( I love saying tee hee)

I'm HIV Positive

On Monday March 1 @ 4:10 pm, I found out I am HIV Positive.

I am writing this blog to share my experiences and struggles with living with HIV, in the hopes it helps others and helps me in dealing with this life changing event.

When she told me the test came back positive for HIV, I didn't cry, I didn't freak out. I just said, okay. I was in a daze. I knew I had been having unprotected sex, I knew there was a good chance this could happen, but it still shocked me. I immediately thought, what did I do to myself.

While I am thinking to myself, the nurse is going on about how it's not a death sentence, I can lead a full life. Then she tells me I will need to provide a list of partners from January 2009 until now. I'm thinking to myself, oh fuck, each time I came to the clinic previously to get tested, I always lied about how many partners I had and if I knew them. She said in the list to try and provide their names and date of birth or at least there age. Thinking to myself, "date of birth? it will be difficult enough providing a name".

Then she handed me some pamphlets about HIV and one about a local HIV organization. Then she started making doctors appointments for me to see an infectious disease specialist. The first appointment is this Wednesday March 10th. During this appointment I am supposed to give them a list of my partners since January 2009; during this appointment I am going to have to tell them 99% of the time, it was anonymous and I don't know. They are also going to draw blood, to run tests to find out what my viral load is and cd4 tests. Viral load? CD4? Huh? I have been doing a lot of searching on the internet, some of it good, some of it freaking the hell out of me. Viral load is how much HIV is in your blood, it shows how rapidly the HIV is reproducing in the blood. CD4 are cells that direct the immune system but are also infected with HIV. These tests determine if and when an HIV positive person should start taking anti-viral medication.

So, she is talking about Viral load and CD4 and I am thinking what the hell is she talking about. She then asks me how I am feeling, I tell her that I have to go to work now. She is shocked and says "I can't believe you are going to work". Not like I have a choice, HIV doesn't prevent me from paying the bills. So I go to work and I am thinking work will be a good distraction, it will take my mind off things. WRONG!

I work in a call center for a pizza company. I work in the complaints department. This lady calls in angry because we don't have a record of her order. She is screaming at the top of her lungs about how she has been moving for three days and her kids are cranky, and her life sucks, and now her pizza hasn't been ordered. I keep telling her to please stop yelling and that I will be happy to retake the order and send it out with a discount. She is yelling at me saying " have you ever moved for 3 days?, have you?" I told her "yes I have, I have moved a lot in my life I know it's stressful". The next thing she says is "fuck you!!! I can't deal with this, and I hear the phone crash to the floor". Then her husband comes on the phone and says in a concerned tone "hello? what's going on?" I said " I can't deal with this! I am disconnecting this call!". Then I hang up. I am sitting there, thinking about how I was tempted to say to her "have you ever found out you have a disease that can't be cured, and then come to work and have to deal with crazy people like you?". Then I start laughing to myself; I am thinking about the husband and the look on his face. He is probably thinking WTF?, my wife is freaking out, the pizza guy is freaking out, it's just pizza.

Then I get another call, woman yelling at me, because the store won't dice the ham on her pizza. I apologize and agree with her it seems weird and ridiculous that the store won't take 30 seconds to dice ham but tell her it's out of my hands, I'm not in the store, I'm in a call center I can't force them to dice ham. She gets even madder and is using the F word every two seconds, yelling at me about how her three year old can't eat the full slices of ham. I snap and yell back " stop yelling at me!!! and then I hang up on her. Somehow I made it through the rest of my shift - it probably helped that the rest of the people that called were relatively sane, lol.

Today it has been one week since I found out I am HIV positive. I have cried a few times in the last week. It's a lot to deal with, I have a lot of anger towards myself, because I did this to myself. Thankfully I have an amazing friend I am able to confide in and who said where do "WE" go from here.

Tomorrow is my day off, I am trying to work up the courage to go the local HIV organization for counseling and to get more information and then my first doctors appointment is on Wednesday with the infectious disease specialist. I will write about how that goes.

So long for now :-)