HIV: My Story - World AIDS Day 2009
It’s dark and early on a cool October day in 2008. I’ve been dizzy, short of breath, and feeling flu-like for the past few days. Somehow today feels different. Today, I can’t even sit up without the room spinning out of control. My appetite waned, and my meals were a forced three portions of bird feed per day. Several days earlier, I come home to visit my parents from San Francisco, where I was living. Thank God I was home. By home, I mean in my parents’ house, where I grew up, in my warm bed among my caring family. This is the day my loving mom and dad would take me to the emergency room, and my life would take a turn.
I don’t too much remember getting from my bed to the hospital. I have a few memories of events leading up to my being admitted to the hospital. One particular event involved me being assisted to the restroom and left to do my business alone. Thank you for that moment of zen. My world, at that moment, calmed. There was no spinning, and I felt my breathing less labored as before. So, I decided I could get myself out of the restroom and walk back to my doctor’s office on my own. I stood, walked towards the door, turned the handle, and stepped out into the hallway. It’s as if being blind-sided by a semi truck. At the same time my foot hit the floor, my knees buckled beneath me. I hit the floor like a ton of bricks. Well, at a buck-o-five (105 lbs.), I wasn’t creating any kind of blip on the richter scale. But, the drop was enough to make my mom gasp and come running towards me. All I could think was that I hated myself for startling and worrying my mom.
Several hours later, I am in my hospital room. Both of my parents were with me, asking me if I needed anything. With my parents in the room, I had all I needed. The next 10 days were filled with tests and questions about what could possibly be wrong. My closest family and friends provided a steady stream of love and support. Thank you to all of them, especially for the mouth watering red velvet cupcakes.
On one particular visit, my brother and sister came to visit. I am very blessed to have a tight-knit, loving family. We laugh a lot. This time with my siblings was no different. Within minutes of their arrival, I was busting a gut. With my breathing still labored but on oxygen, I was fine for the first few minutes. Suddenly, I could not catch my breath, and I began hyperventilating. My sister called for my nurse. I called for Dr. Doug Ross. I had to lie flat, and the room started spinning out of control. Fade to black. Side note for those wondering who the heck Dr. Doug Ross might be. He was George Clooney’s character on E.R. Hey! If you thought you were going down, wouldn’t you want to look at George Clooney the entire time? It was either him or Dr. Philip Chandler, Denzel Washington’s character on St. Elsewhere.
Back to reality, I awoke in a new room. As I scanned the room, I saw a lot of crazy Alien-looking equipment overhead and throughout the space. After only a few minutes, my doctor came in. He told me he needed to do a lung biopsy to help him come to a diagnosis so I could provide a proper treatment. He assured me it was a harmless process, but it sounded gnarly to me. You’re going to put a tool through my nose, down my throat and cut a miniscule piece of my lung for testing? Ewwww! Thankfully, I’d be asleep the entire time.
I don’t recall, specifically, but my results came back within a day or two. My parents were in the room when my doctor came in to share the results. He asked if it was okay for them to be in the room when he revealed his findings. Of course. They are my parents. “Ok” he said. “You have Pneumocystis Carnini Pneumonia (PCP).” Prior to this news, the doctor’s were treating me for a bad case of text book pneumonia. “What this means” he continued, “is that you have HIV.” Whoa! I remember being shocked then quickly moving my sights to my parents. Without missing a beat, my dad look at the doctor and asks, “So what do we need to do to help our daughter?” That momentary feeling of being shocked and scared disappeared. In an instant, my dad changed my thinking from oh my God to - right. What do “we” do now. I knew I was going to be okay with the support of my family and the with guidance of my doctors.
Little more than a year later, I am healthy and strong. I am training for Ironman Arizona taking place in Tempe in just under 12 months. For those of you who don’t know me, I have been an athlete my entire life, so health and fitness have been a way of life. Competitive sports and working out is as integral in my lifestyle as breathing and eating. The year it took me to get my body healthy enough to get back in the saddle was an anomaly. And, it only took so long for me, because I was trying to come back too fast. My body apparently needed more time than I was allowing. During the past 12 months, I was admitted to the hospital again, for pneumonia, 8 months after my initial hospitalization in 2008. Now, I am ready. By the grace of God, my crazy awesome family and friends, I am on my way.
I decided, this World AIDS Day, to share the story of some events leading up to my diagnosis to show the kind of support I had during a rough patch in my life. From this story, I hope to convey the love and support I had and still have. My thoughts are with those who experience their discovery of being HIV positive and are living without the support of a loved one. I wondered how they feel and what they need to help them through? It has become so very important to me to help those with HIV/AIDS to have the kind of love and support available to them that I have been so fortunate to have. How does anyone deal with such a life changing event alone? People do it everyday. Based on personal accounts shared with me, it is a dark and lonely place. This is not acceptable. No one should ever have to be alone.
My day-to-day life now is just as it was prior to my diagnosis. The only difference is that I am taking a few more pills with my vitamins every morning. I guess my hope is that my story will motivate you, anyone who reads this, to look around. See those people who are hurting, especially as we enter our holiday season here in the United States. Regardless of the circumstance, homlessness, negative health diagnosis (HIV/AIDS, cancer, for example), or being away from home. Reach out and touch someone’s life. Just let them know you care. It is the greatest gift anyone can give to another living being.
Get involved in the lives of others. To show your support on this World AIDS Day, visit AIDS.gov and find out what you can do.
To all of you who have taken this journey with me, I thank you from the depths of my heart. Now, let’s do the damn thing!
