Chad's Journal

First of all - Thank you to my Mom for posting a response to my first blog. While I am still not ready to tell everyone in the world that I am doing this blog or my status - I did share with my Mom and Sister the link so they could read along with whoever else. They are the most amazing support system in the world and like Jennifer commented - I am really lucky to have them. So Thank You.
Also, thank you to Tom for welcoming me to this project and allowing me to be a part of it.

I have been seeing an acupuncturist for a little over a month now to help with several things, one of which is my growing anxiety over my status. I am lucky to have great medical benefits because I work for the government (and not to be political but hopefully everyone will get those benefits soon!). Anyway, I was at my weekly appointment and the acupuncturist was removing the needles at the end of the session. Now in the past, I have noticed that when she removes the needles from my feet sometimes she goes and grabs a cotton ball and swabs with alcohol. I have always assumed that is because I had a dab of blood or something. No big deal - she is a well informed health practitioner and she isn't touching my blood. Well this week, she did the same thing but I noticed that she touched my foot before grabbing the alcohol swab. Then she turned up the lights (they are on a dimmer) and she then said "I have an awkward question to ask you..." I told her to go ahead and she said "Your foot was bleeding just a little when I removed the needle and I touched it...can I get HIV from that?" I paused...didn't know what to say...and she went on "It's not really me I am concerned about...it is just that I donate plasma" Oh wow...OK. I was like...well immediately go wash your hands - make sure you don't have any cuts on your hands and yeah...I think you are fine but I don't want to falsely reassure you. Then when she was done washing her hands she kind of said to me "I hope I didn't make you feel awkward...or like a leper." So anyway it was a strange feeling for me...because I didn't mind the question and I didn't mind that she needed reassurance but I did mind her then carrying on about it. I guess I am getting used to ALL my other doctors and health practitioners that are used to treating HIV positive patients, but I was actually refreshed to have a provider that wasn't so all HIV. You know, it made me feel sort of normal...until this visit. She is really kind and comforting most of the time, but this made me feel strange. I guess that is just part of being HIV positive is reassuring people and educating every where we go...

So I've been meaning to get on here and post my first blog and for whatever reason I've found reasons not to over the past two weeks. It is crazy to think, seeing as I was the one to contact Tom to ask to be a part of this project but I suppose he gave me the go ahead it really made me face reality. I've been thinking to myself: Do I really want to share my thoughts with people I don't know, just to put myself out there? Do I really have anything to say? What makes my story any different? Will this actually help? Plus as an added bonus I just passed my one year anniversary of my diagnosis date, October 5. Needless to say, I've been nervous thinking about this process. But here I am - today - ready to jump in. So here it goes...
My name is Chad and I am 27 years old. I was diagnosed as HIV positive a little over a year ago on October 5, 2007. I never thought I would be positive in my entire life but here I am. I came out as a gay man when I was 15 years old in High School and was sexually active a bit before that. But I also worked with HIV organizations starting at about that time and was highly educated on the matter. I was always careful and practiced "safer" sex. I was tested every 6 months. I have an accepting and loving family. Everything was good.
When I met my ex-boyfriend about two years ago I didn't know that my relationship with him was about to change my life. He was a bit younger than me - he was 21 and I was 25 just about 26. For whatever reason, and I still don't have the answer, we at some point decided to not be as careful as we should. We began to have unprotected sex - and we never discussed each others' status. I would later find out that he was positive but hadn't known it. I would also find out that he cheated on me and had unprotected sex often - and at times during my first few months of being diagnosed I would blame those facts for my circumstance. I no longer do that because ultimately it was a decision I made as well and it is what it is now. Anyway, my test came about as regular as could be - no suspicion that I has positive - just that it had been six months since my last test. When the doctor called me and asked me to come in for my results earlier than scheduled (days earlier not hours) I knew something was up. I was shaking and trembling in her office before she gave me the news. I cannot even begin to describe or blog the experience directly after that because I still do not remember. It is all such a blur to me. I saw her lips moving but couldn't hear sound. The room was spinning. Everything was blurry; I could only make out vague shapes and colors. There was a loud ringing in my ear and I felt as though an earthquake was happening. I cried for hours. And when I left the doctor's office I drove for a few more hours endlessly - no destination in mind. I literally drove around blocks numerous times in random patterns. The only reason I finally stopped was that I ran out of gas. My mother - who knew I was going in for my HIV results because I always have told her about these types of things - was calling me over and over and over again. I couldn't even think about talking to her at that moment. She left voicemails indicating that she was beginning to think the worst since I wouldn't pick up her phone calls - obviously things were not ok. I decided that my sister would be the first person in the entire world that I would tell about my status. My sister and I are what some people call "Irish Twins" - we were born just about 11 months apart from each other. I am the oldest, although she is the wisest. Some people have since asked me why I chose my sister instead of my mother to be the first person to tell and I don't know all the reasons. But my sister and I have been through a lot in this lifetime together. We have always been there for each other even if we didn't want to be. We were bounced from one school to the next when we were younger (Mom had to move around a lot) and eventually came to count really only on each other. We knew...we know...each others' darkest secrets. Plus, my mom is the person in this world that I am most scared of disappointing. My sister too - but my sister is more on the same level as me. I knew it would be really upsetting for her - we really are close - but that she would be able to help me craft a way to tell mom AND that she would be able to give me the courage to tell mom. What I didn't realize was that my sister didn't know that I was going to get tested so when she picked up the phone my news was about to knock her on her feet. I don't recall exactly how I told her but I do remember that she immediately started crying - loudly - and she kept asking "So what does this mean? What does this mean, Chad!!" I did my best to reassure her that everything was going to be ok and that I would get through this. And she did her best to tell me that Mom wouldn't be upset or disappointed with me and that I needed to call her because she was worried sick. So I did. I have an even harder time recalling my conversation with my mother - I just remember crying a lot. I think she answered the phone with "it's bad news isn't it?" and I said something like "I am so sorry, Mom...I am so sorry that this has happened." And then at some point later in the crying episode I stopped crying and told her to stop crying (kind of forcefully) and I said to her that I needed her and my sister to be strong - that I NEEDED them to at least pretend they were strong in this - at least for now. And then I told Mom to call my sister and to comfort each other. And then I hung up the phone. I was void. I was paralyzed. I was in some other universe. I drove to my friend K's house - told him - and fell asleep in his arms crying. The next morning I called into work and took off a few days and immediately drove to my Mother's house in North Carolina. And that was that.