HIV is defined as Human Immunodeficiency Virus. HIV and AIDS, or Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome, are not the same animals, despite what I hear and read online and in print. I am infected with Human Immunodeficiency Virus and I also have Acquired Immunodeficiency Virus/Disabling. In September 2001 I tested possibly positive and went to have testing performed. Whether I was positively positive along with my CD4/T-Cell counts, and my viral load were ascertained; the latter tests were only done once they detected Human Immunodeficiency Virus in my system.
I had a viral load of around one million (1,000,000), a CD4/T-Cell of less than one hundred (100). My friends directed me to Positive Resource Center (PRC) for assistance where Carmen was assigned to help me. She got me an appointment with Positive Health Program also known as Ward 86 at San Francisco General Hospital (SFGH). My first two providers were Doctors, and full of their own importance or egomaniacs. One boasted that he had helped develop Combivir and Kaletra which he prescribed, the side effects were debilitating and when I asked about different options he refused to discuss those with me so it was on to a new Doctor. The new Doctor wasn’t much better and so I got a ne Promary Care Physician (PCP), and I got Tina Clark, a Nurse Practitioner. She and I remained together for years until she moved from Ward 86. When she left I got Clarissa Ramstead nee Clarissa Ospina-Norville. I am one happy camper with a Nurse Practitioner rather than a Doctor.
One of the greatest joys I have with Clarissa is her belief in solutions other than prescribing medications. I began seeing Clarissa Ramstead as the back up when Tina was unavailable doing Doctors Without Borders, working in the prisons, or homeless shelters. Tina believes in humanity and acts on it.
In late November or early December my then roommate asked if I had a sunburn. I hadn't been outside long enough for that so I said I didn't think so. He said I should look in the mirror. I did to find a large flap of skin on my face peeling like it had been sunburned. It frightened me a bit, so I called Tina Clark. She explained that there are bacterias growing on everyone's skin. Usually, the bacteria that damges skin is kept in check by other bacterias on the skin. In HIV+ people these bacterias become imbalanced with the result that the impaired skin is sloughed off similar to the peeling off like a sunburn. She prescribed an antibacterial creme that I began using twice a day.
Sometime in 2002, I think around October to November, I saw Clarissa as Tina was unavailable. She asked me about the cream I was using and I explained the above. She asked what soap I was using? I told her Ivory as it was just soap. She suggested antibacterial soap, specifically Lever 2000, and if that didn't work then there was Irish Spring, Dial, Zest and others. When I asked why she explained that it woukd stop me from peeling and I wouldn't have to use the cream any longer. I bought some Lever 2000 and it worked well. I no longer have to rub medicated cream on my face twice a day, and I no longer look like a molting snake.
I stayed with Tina until around 2008 or 9. I decided to ask Clarissa to be my PCP. I did this because Tina began working only one day at Ward 86 and I had stopped wanting prescriptions as much. One time when Tina was away I saw Clarissa. My blood work had been done at my prior visit and Clarissa informed me I was borderline anemic. "Here's a list of foods you can eat or I can prescribe you a pill that won't let you shit for two weeks. " I took the list, and changed how I ate. Anemia disappeared and hasn't returned.
I asked Clarissa to be my PCP.
With aid from PRC I obtained disability from the Federal Government in the form of what is termed Social Security Disability Insurance or SSDI. Also, I receive, in lieu of Food Stamps a cash payment called Social Security Insurance or SSI. After the monies were assured the next step was to find out all I could about this virus that, until 2001, I had paid scant attention to. So I learned how it affected me first, and then learned what I could about HIV and AIDS.
First I will present a brief history of the HIV Epidemic.
In 2001 it was estimated by the CDC that there were 36.1 million cases HIV with 25.3 million in Sub-Saharan Africa. This means that in 2001 slightly over 70% of HIV resided in “The Dark Continent”. The UNAIDS Organization released guidelines for reporting HIV in 2014 and the latest factual results I can find are from 2012 stating that in that year there were over 35 million people around the globe who were infected, that number may be around 37 million now. Of these over 29 million were in Sub-Saharan Africa, around 78 %.
We have made huge steps in Western countries, but we live in a bubble, and we don't realise._Annie Lennox in a David Peschek Interview
Annie Lennox works with women and children who are suffering from HIV in Africa. She started a campaign called Sing and a website called annielennoxsing.com. She wears a shirt many times that states she is HIV Positive, although she is not. When I found out about the Sing Campaign I looked around and noticed the bubble we in the western world indeed live in.
To me an HIV+ male in the United States I am a minority within a minority. It is estimated that there may be as many as 1.5 million cases of HIV in The US today. The Census Bureau estimates 317.3 million people resided in the US as of 1 January 2014, so that means that there are approximately .47% of Americans infected with HIV. E Coli, Salmonella, Flu, and other potentially deadly viruses and bacterial infections far outweigh this small percentage of HIV+ people in The US. Further, in the United States and Western Europe, collectively, “The Western World”, HIV is mainly restricted to the homosexual male population, whereas, in the rest of the world, according to UNAIDS, more than half of HIV+ peoples are women, with women in their childbearing years infected more. Yes Annie, we in The Western World do live in a bubble.
This is Part One of my blogs on what I know, or think I know regarding HIV. My next meanderings will be more on where and when HIV came from. Please take the time to comment with corrections, additions, and especially arguments.
http://www.cdc.gov/hiv/statistics/basics/ataglance.html
http://www.cdc.gov/hiv/pdf/statistics_2001_HIV_Surveillance_Report_vol_13_no2.pdf
http://www.unaids.org/en/dataanalysis/datatools/aidsinfo/
http://www.aces.edu/urban/metronews/vol13no2/documents/TheManyFacetsofHIV2014docx.pdf
http://apps.who.int/iris/bitstream/10665/104264/1/9789241506830_eng.pdf?ua=1
http://thequietus.com/articles/08226-annie-lennox-interview-international-womens-day
Friday, March 7, 2014
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Friendship
Several years ago I noticed this guy hanging around an AA meeting I attended. I never really got to know him well as he was always standoffish. He was handsome, seemed well spoken, and always said hi, but that was as far as it ever went.
Jump forward several years and he took the time to talk with me after a meeting and I asked him if he wnted to go out for dinner. We agreed to meet Saturday next at a meeting and go after to L'Osteria in North Beach. Saturday rolled around and he didn't want anyone to spend monies on him so we went to Lafayette Cafe. At Lafayette we talked and joked and carried on. It must have been apparent to him that I was hugely egotistical at the time, a trait I still have, because at one point he became serious and stated "I don't know what your problem is. They're (meaning the people in AA) are just sick people like you and I are?"
Some time later I came clean about many things and he came clean about having lied about his sobriety. He got a sponsor and worked the Fourth Step and showed me the format he used. I began crying, something I had never done on any Fourth Step before. I jokingly asked him if he would consider sponsoring me and he said "I'd be down for that."
After some time it was apparent that this guy would be a good sponsor, so I asked him. He told me to write out what I expected from a sponsor so I did. He was impressed and agreed to sponsor me.
In the early part of this month he and his roommate began having problems which ended up with him spending several nights in jail. At first I did not know what to believe. Was this guy a monster and I had not seen this? Why was he in jail? What was going on? All this and more crowded in and stayed there until around 0830 when the roommate called and started talking like nothing had happened. When that happened I recalled the other statements - the mysteriously unbroken coffee maker that was thrown across the room, the four or more versions of a certain night, the stories of being in rehab, and others that did not add up. So I told the roommate I knew what had happened.
"I guess you're mad at me," stated he.
"No actually I'm not, I'm very sad that you have to live this way," I said.
He hung up. I spent all day Tuesday determining I could do nothing and Wednesday was a court holiday so nothing could be done until Thursday.
On Wednesday the jailed gentleman was outside my house. I was still not entirely sure of him, but I kept an open mind. By the time we had walked to my house I knew that I was going to stick my neck out and help this guy. He wanted to go to the 7 AM meeting close by, but I told him he needed a bath. I put him in the bathroom and he rinsed off and ran a tub. He made the meeting.
After several days with another friend he came and started staying here. I offered to list him as my support worker, got him a key card, and a key. He said he'd think about it. Almost two weeks later we were feeling comfortable still and he said he'd like to stay, but... But what if I tried to put him in jail? What if I decided he didn't need to be there? In short he was somewhat fearful of whether he would have a permanent housing situation.
I wrote out that he was my support worker, gave a copy to be filed at the office and gave him a copy. He has moved in and I am very satisfied.
I have a fantastic roommate, fabulous sponsor, and someone I trust living with me now. I still think of this as "my" place, but I catch myself and remember it is now OUR place.
I have not been this happy in years.
Jump forward several years and he took the time to talk with me after a meeting and I asked him if he wnted to go out for dinner. We agreed to meet Saturday next at a meeting and go after to L'Osteria in North Beach. Saturday rolled around and he didn't want anyone to spend monies on him so we went to Lafayette Cafe. At Lafayette we talked and joked and carried on. It must have been apparent to him that I was hugely egotistical at the time, a trait I still have, because at one point he became serious and stated "I don't know what your problem is. They're (meaning the people in AA) are just sick people like you and I are?"
Some time later I came clean about many things and he came clean about having lied about his sobriety. He got a sponsor and worked the Fourth Step and showed me the format he used. I began crying, something I had never done on any Fourth Step before. I jokingly asked him if he would consider sponsoring me and he said "I'd be down for that."
After some time it was apparent that this guy would be a good sponsor, so I asked him. He told me to write out what I expected from a sponsor so I did. He was impressed and agreed to sponsor me.
In the early part of this month he and his roommate began having problems which ended up with him spending several nights in jail. At first I did not know what to believe. Was this guy a monster and I had not seen this? Why was he in jail? What was going on? All this and more crowded in and stayed there until around 0830 when the roommate called and started talking like nothing had happened. When that happened I recalled the other statements - the mysteriously unbroken coffee maker that was thrown across the room, the four or more versions of a certain night, the stories of being in rehab, and others that did not add up. So I told the roommate I knew what had happened.
"I guess you're mad at me," stated he.
"No actually I'm not, I'm very sad that you have to live this way," I said.
He hung up. I spent all day Tuesday determining I could do nothing and Wednesday was a court holiday so nothing could be done until Thursday.
On Wednesday the jailed gentleman was outside my house. I was still not entirely sure of him, but I kept an open mind. By the time we had walked to my house I knew that I was going to stick my neck out and help this guy. He wanted to go to the 7 AM meeting close by, but I told him he needed a bath. I put him in the bathroom and he rinsed off and ran a tub. He made the meeting.
After several days with another friend he came and started staying here. I offered to list him as my support worker, got him a key card, and a key. He said he'd think about it. Almost two weeks later we were feeling comfortable still and he said he'd like to stay, but... But what if I tried to put him in jail? What if I decided he didn't need to be there? In short he was somewhat fearful of whether he would have a permanent housing situation.
I wrote out that he was my support worker, gave a copy to be filed at the office and gave him a copy. He has moved in and I am very satisfied.
I have a fantastic roommate, fabulous sponsor, and someone I trust living with me now. I still think of this as "my" place, but I catch myself and remember it is now OUR place.
I have not been this happy in years.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Technology
In today's world we have many different ways to communicate. For instance: postal mail, text messaging, internet, email, phone calls, and I am sure others I am missing.
To me, the cel phone (look it up "cel" is the original spelling) is a convenience not a necessity. This communication with the outside world when it intrudes on the interaction of two people sitting across from one another, distractions while driving, walking, or in class, etc. is , I believe, highly offensive. If I feel the need to pay attention to a phone call I leave the area after excusing myself. No one wants to hear half a conversation. I do not text and walk, text and drive, text and eat, so on. I have had conversations in the past to realize there is no response from the other party, only to look around and find them texting. When I mention how rude this is I almost always get a withering look or a lecture on intolerance. I really do not believe it intolerant to ask of another good manners , politeness, and attention when we are having a face to face talk.
Recently, a friend took exception to the fact that I read and responded to a text while we were talking. I apologized. Not even 10 minutes later he answered his phone and began having a conversation and ignoring me. I left. As I was leaving he asked why I was leaving, and I did not bother to answer.
Technology is wonderful, but it has it's place. During driving, face to face meetings, in movie theaters, and elsewhere there is no place for your cel to be used.
To me, the cel phone (look it up "cel" is the original spelling) is a convenience not a necessity. This communication with the outside world when it intrudes on the interaction of two people sitting across from one another, distractions while driving, walking, or in class, etc. is , I believe, highly offensive. If I feel the need to pay attention to a phone call I leave the area after excusing myself. No one wants to hear half a conversation. I do not text and walk, text and drive, text and eat, so on. I have had conversations in the past to realize there is no response from the other party, only to look around and find them texting. When I mention how rude this is I almost always get a withering look or a lecture on intolerance. I really do not believe it intolerant to ask of another good manners , politeness, and attention when we are having a face to face talk.
Recently, a friend took exception to the fact that I read and responded to a text while we were talking. I apologized. Not even 10 minutes later he answered his phone and began having a conversation and ignoring me. I left. As I was leaving he asked why I was leaving, and I did not bother to answer.
Technology is wonderful, but it has it's place. During driving, face to face meetings, in movie theaters, and elsewhere there is no place for your cel to be used.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
MORE
I, like many Americans apparently, only ever feel comfortable with more, over the past 50 years I have striven for more friends, money, clothes, cars, land, and almost anything that I could obtain more of.
I wish this to stop and now. I have a wonderful life, fabulous friends, a spirituality that works, fantastic family, and so on. Yet I am not satisfied, I want more. My house is a small studio apartment I share at present with gem and John. gem is four footed and John is bipedal. Both are fantastic room mates for me and there is quite enough space for the three of us. The only difficulty I have is my stuff. I am a pack rat and have bags, drawers, closets, dressers and other spaces full of things I do not need or use. Why? Because it's mine.
I find it ridiculous that people use storage units because they have too much stuff in their house. If you are not using it, won't be using it give it away is my philosophy. However, we Americans seem obsessed with possessions, we have to hold on to what we "own". You know, what I "own" is really only borrowed. My flesh, room mates, clothes, books, papers etc. will be of no use once I am gone. Why am I so enamored of holding on to this "stuff'?
I wish there was an easy answer, and there is. I think I'll throw a bonfire, if I cannot have it I'll consign it to Shiva.
HELLO...
I wish this to stop and now. I have a wonderful life, fabulous friends, a spirituality that works, fantastic family, and so on. Yet I am not satisfied, I want more. My house is a small studio apartment I share at present with gem and John. gem is four footed and John is bipedal. Both are fantastic room mates for me and there is quite enough space for the three of us. The only difficulty I have is my stuff. I am a pack rat and have bags, drawers, closets, dressers and other spaces full of things I do not need or use. Why? Because it's mine.
I find it ridiculous that people use storage units because they have too much stuff in their house. If you are not using it, won't be using it give it away is my philosophy. However, we Americans seem obsessed with possessions, we have to hold on to what we "own". You know, what I "own" is really only borrowed. My flesh, room mates, clothes, books, papers etc. will be of no use once I am gone. Why am I so enamored of holding on to this "stuff'?
I wish there was an easy answer, and there is. I think I'll throw a bonfire, if I cannot have it I'll consign it to Shiva.
HELLO...
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