No to Stigma

Please read the story on the link below

http://bepositive-ph.tumblr.com/post/6552688352/stories-of-stigma-keith

Close to Normal

I hate crying in public - don't get me wrong, it has nothing to do with machismo or anything, but crying is so messy.

Anyway, that was not the point...

Was able to catch Atlantis Production's Next to Normal.

Powerful cast - Menchu Lauchengco-Yulo, Felix Rivera, Bea Garcia, Jett Pangan and Markki Stroem - who's voices and emotions came across clearly, gave me goose bumps.

The song that hit me most - and led to a tiny tsunami to gush forth from my eyes - was "Maybe". Some of the lines are as follows:

I don’t need a life that’s normal
That’s way too far away
But something next to normal
Would be okay
Yeah, something next to normal
That’s the thing I’d like to try
Close enough to normal
To get by

That's what I am living right now - something next to normal. Normal is too far away.

But next to normal is ok with me, close enough to normal to get by...

WTF?!

I was saddened to hear about the news of the Fil-Aussie artist who was held at the airport and reportedly "banned" from entering the country because of his HIV status.

Though I was in a hurry to get to work this morning and rushing through my breakfast, I had to stop and listen intently on what was being discussed on TV.

Dr. Belimac mentioned the word "ignorant" sometime during the discussion and I couldn't help but completely agree with him. Although his word was not directed to one person or institution - it was more of a general description about the level of awareness of laws covering PLWHA.

Still, I felt a small knot in my belly listening to the story.

We are not completely out of the dark yet.

Birthday!

Today is my 35th birthday. It has been two years since I was diagnosed with HIV.

I do not know which one I should really be celebrating, my natal day or the day I found out I was HIV positive. I want to celebrate the day I got my confirmatory test because that is the day that I made the decision to live - I mean really live!

But that will be for another time.

For now, I will celebrate this day.

Confronting My Own Damaso




Photocredit from gmanews.tv

 

Last week, words like "RH Bill", Damaso, ex-communication and Carlos Celdran were thrown around in newspapers, newscast and blogs.

I am not going to make a commentary on the RH Bill here. Neither am I going to defend nor condemn Celdran's actions.

What I want to talk about is fear, my fears - past and present.

It took me a long time to finally come out of my shell and embrace my true nature because I was afraid of what my family, friends and colleagues will say if they find about my preferences.

It was fear that led me to dark bath houses and bars for anonymous sex and eyeballs for no-strings-attached one-night-stands with strangers. I was afraid of commitments. I was afraid of being dumped and left alone.

It was fear that prevented me from getting tested for HIV even when I knew I was at high risk of contracting the disease. I was afraid of what I might do (or not do) should I test positive. I was afraid of the stigma.

It was fear of dying with an unknown disease which rendered me incapacitated for months that finally led me to give a consent to the HIV test suggested by my doctor.

And it was also fear that forced me to tell my parents about my sexuality and the possibility of me having HIV - I was afraid that if they found out they'd cast me out and I'd be left alone, dying on my own. Some would say it was courage. But I knew better. I wanted to know whether they'd accept me if they knew who and what I really was. My plan was if they didn't accept me, I'd leave and go to an out-of-the-way place, curl up and wait for death to come and take me.

But in hindsight, I would have been in a better situation had I learned to walk in fear, not out of fear. It would have made me more careful. I could have found the right person. I would not have the virus now.

And yet, all these are "would haves" and "could haves".

Now I face new fears. Will I allow myself again to be led in fear, or will I stand and stare Fear in the face and say "Bring it on!"

Carlos Celdran had it right. Stand up despite of fear. Speak up inspite of the threat of being left all alone in the world.

For if I don't stand up and speak for myself, no one else will. And I will truly be alone.

From Fab to Flat to Flab

Had fun boy-watching recently with friends (a curious group of straight girls, bi-female and gays).

More than the pretty faces, I was really struck by the uber-sexy bods of guys nowadays. I'm not just talking about the muscular, kargador-type guys we see on run-of-the-mill, friendly-neighbor gyms. There were the V-type swimmers with beautiful tans. The slim and lanky - and at times geeky in a cute kind of way - yuppies.

Of course, having a fetish for armpits, I couldn't resist taking every opportunity to get a glimpse of those parts. And I must say, I am happily surprised by what I "accidentally" see. I mean, are those done by professionals? Where do they get their pits trimmed?

But all this body-worshipping has led me to look back at my own body.

Before the virus, I had a fairly good form. I never went to the gym but I swam on weekends. I gloried in flaunting my body in skimpy trunks. I could pig out one day and lose the pounds the next - in time for a weekend all-nighter. Taking off my shirt was no problem. I had nothing to hide and everything to show.

All these changed when the virus struck.

First, it was body wasting. No matter how much I ate, I continually lost weight! I stopped swimming, thinking that I was over-doing it. I wasn't aware of my condition yet.

Then the rashes began to show. I was so affected that I consulted a dermatologist to find out what's wrong. Since both of us had no idea that I had the virus already at that time, the dermatologist concluded it was skin asthma (I wasn't surprised since our family does have a history of allergies). We had to give away our dogs because we thought they contributed to my condition.

I couldn't wear shorts and sleeveless shirts which I really loved wearing before - because they hang loose over my emaciated frame and because of the dark spots that appeared on my extremities.

Two years, 48 bottles of ARV and +250CD4 count later, the wasting has stopped and the spots have cleared out. However, a new concern has arisen - that of uneven fat distribution.

Who knows, I might just wake up one day and find out I have grown boobs!

Potential

I was browsing through Chris Guillebeau's site again and came across another piece of gem.

In this article, he writes about potential - how a lot of people have it - and why only a few of these people actually make it big time. Chris' article focuses on these successful people's tenacity - the will to carry on and persevere despite all odds.

As an engineer, whenever I hear the word "potential", the mental picture that I have is that of a roller coaster at the very top of the crest, when all "kinetic" energy has been "used up" to drive the cart to the top and the cart will thus have "maximum potential".

However, unless the cart go down the rails, its energy will remain "potential". It can never be transformed to "kinetic" energy - imagine what those thrill-riders would feel if they would be left on the top of the rail!

As a supervisor in-charge of developing my direct reports, I have made it a point to identify potentials - technical capabilities, leadership abilities, time-management skills, etc. However, turning these potentials into productive projects and processes can be overwhelming and daunting.

Since I have already made up my mind to leave the company I am currently working for, I have taken myself to task to ensure that I develop leaders from my team in the event that I decide to call it quits (or my body asks for time-off).

I have also been looking at my own potentials vis-a-vis my condition as a person living with the virus. I have been considering what I really want to do with my life and what limits I have to set to ensure that I do not tax my body unnecessarily.

Simultaneous with my efforts to build a strong pool of potential replacements at work, I have been taking entrepreneurship classes whenever I can and exercising my mind to come up with viable business plans.

At this point, these are all plans and proposals, but hey, as Chris Guillebeau once said, two-steps forward, one-step back will eventually take me to the finish line.

Ambushed!

I received a text message from a friend and former officemate around noon middle of the week of the past week.

Friend was asking if we could meet up after work. The kaladkarin that I am, I easily said "yes".

However, since I had an earlier appointment that day after work, I told Friend that I would be available after 9pm.

My earlier appointment ended a bit late. So I immediately texted Friend and informed her that I was on my way to meet her.

We met at Megamall about 15 minutes after 9pm. Since Megamall was about to close, she asked if I wanted to go to McDonald's at El Pueblo and I said "sure".

On our way to El Pueblo, she dialled her phone and spoke to someone and said "parating na kami".

That should have been warning enough but I let it pass.

At McDo, we were joined by an acquiantance and another stranger.

While we were eating, Stranger and Acquiantance started talking about the supplements they are currently taking and asked me whether I was taking any.

I said was only taking ascorbic acid.

Stranger then began to retrieve from her bag some brochures about the supplements and proceeded to tell me about the "wonders" of these supplements. This went on for about an hour or so.

Somewhere in the middle of her spiel I felt saying something like "eh sa HIV meron ka bang cure?" just to stop her from droning. But I kept my mouth shut and my mind fluttering somewhere else.

When I couldn't take it anymore, I gave the universal sign for "time out" and told her that I was really tired and I had to excuse myself. I told Friend that I would text her and said goodbye.

I haven't texted Friend. I don't have any intention of doing so. It was rude that I was ambushed into listening to a total stranger tell stories about cures and healings of people she did not know personally but learned about in a seminar.

Had she told me about people who's CD4 count rose by 100 points after 6 months of ARV or of people whose viral load results show "undetectable" levels, I would have gladly listened to her for hours! Hell, I would be a happy person had she told me of people who feared they could have contracted HIV but tested negative!