Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

+/-

I'm having a quiet day at home today so I thought it might be a good chance to keep this blog active and just put forward some reflection on the last few months. As I said before, I think I've pretty much got used to being infected now and what it implies, that it shouldn't be a threat to my health or my life any time soon. The challenges now are living with it and not forgetting that it remains something I am loathe to transmit to another person and particularly not someone I'm falling for.

I think I've learned a few things about relationships, too. Serodiscordance meant that I rushed in very quickly because we had to have serious talks about whether or not he was prepared to take the risk, he has been to the clinic with me to talk to health advisors, I've been terrified that I could have infected him, I've been terrified he might just change his mind about being with someone positive and just walk out or leave me for someone where sex is less... well, less laden with the thrill and fear of proximity to danger.

Remaining serodiscordant has to remain an important consideration in the relationship, which requires trust and consideration of the honest needs and desires we both have. Condom use is an irksome necessity, but we're trying to minimise discomfort for both of us by using latex-free, although the ones we've tried so far fit him but not me. It was so good to see the difference he felt using something much thinner; he said the difference in sensation was incredible, so he's a convert, but it makes me frustrated I'm not enjoying the same thing. Finding large latex-free condoms has taken me most of the day, and it's going to be an expensive luxury, but necessary if he and I are both going to be comfortable during sex.

The other thing that I've learned, is that I think I find being monogamous much nicer.

Saturday, May 20, 2006

Telling Tales

It's interesting. Nine months on from diagnosis, most of the major Telling People is done, close friends, family and such like, some upsetting and difficult, some of them misguided, but for the main part, no regrets at all.

Disclosed to someone I used to have sex with this morning, which came up because he said, in an avuncular fashion, that he hoped I was taking care on the safe sex front, I said that yes, I was, because I was infected last year somehow. It was, I think, easily done, once he'd said he was sorry to hear that, we moved on to talking about what we were listening to while doing our Saturday morning chores.

At the moment, I like it that way. Sure, in a few years it's going to become an issue, maybe sooner, who knows, but I know I can't predict the future so there's nothing to be gained by fretting at this moment about it all. My future's uncertain on all manner of fronts, job-wise, money-wise, everything, but it'll all work out ok.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Touched

I was talking to a friend of mine last night. He's in a serodiscordant relationship, like I am, but on the other side of the equation, being the negative partner. They started seeing each other at the same time as my relationship started, so it's interesting to see how he and I deal with the challenges serodiscordance presents us with.

He was talking about a night recently where they made the same mistake we did, that the negative partner was inside the positive partner for a few minutes before they stopped and went back to condoms. It was good to hear someone on the other position saying that he knew it was silly, that it was at least as much his fault as his partner's. I felt I shouldn't worry about blame, that it was a joint responsibility.

What he then told me brought tears instantly to my eyes.

"He wants to do it again, not because he wants to risk infecting me, but because he wants to feel normal. He wants to feel like someone wants to touch him."

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Antiseptic

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well
-Lazy Lazarus (Sylvia Plath)


Yes, I just quoted Plath, but trust me, things are very far from being that bad. Just thinking about writing after the comment on the last post about journalism. I don't think I should feel guilt for taking opportunities that are offered to me because of my status among other things, I just think it's a slight shift of thinking to go from the virus being something that threatens to destroy everything I have (which it never did, but I think we all have that fear somewhere) to being something that opens up doors for you.

So, with that bouyancy in mind, it was probably a good time to visit a friend of mine in hospital in Hampstead with Hep C (they think) and some other bizarre complications. He wasn't restricted to the ward, his condition having improved quite a bit, but still he was very obviously ill, his eyes were golden irises against whites of lemon. His skin was bronzed even though he's not been in the sun for weeks. The colour of Dettol, I'd guess. He'd lost a lot of weight since I last saw him, and he'd lost a lot of weight then, something like a quarter to a third of his former body weight gone in the last six months or so.

While obviously I'd known he's been ill, he made mention of being on the transplant list and how he was being moved over to long-term benefits, which I'd interpret as meaning that they're not expecting him to get any better in a hurry, which must be hard on anyone. My boyfriend came with me to meet him, but although the three of us were chatting, drinking fattening Starbucks drinks and went to the cinema as a group while I battled jetlag to stay chirpy and my friend battled fatigue to bring humour, I could see my boyfriend was processing a lot while we were all together. I am not particularly phased by people who are ill or disabled, although I was a bit squeamish when a friend sent me a photo of his broken wrist scar this morning, but I'm sure he was struck by it.

It wasn't easy for me, either, to see someone ill, knowing that in part I have the same thing within me. I'm hoping that I can avoid the same fate, although I can't rule out that possibility completely. I've never been so good at towing the line, so I don't know how adherant I'd be to medication, or how responsive to instructions about avoiding possible harm to myself. That said, after diagnosis, I've taken much better care of myself than I was doing beforehand, cutting out the recreationals and the parties and the orgiastic life, walk most of the journeys I make and generally manage my life a little more sensibly than I was doing before, so I can't say my prognosis for life is one of terrible decay and unstoppable doom or anything like that.

And hey, if I get ill, I get ill, it's hardly like I'm going to be kicking myself about it, just like I'm not wagging my finger at my friends who have been ill with this thing. That Good AIDS, Bad AIDS thing really hacks me off, I tell you that for nowt. Besides which I think I have BadGood or GoodBad AIDS because I could either have caught it while recklessly fucking around on drugs (BadAIDS) or from my ex (GoodAIDS) but it's moot. Sure as eggs is eggs, I've got HIV and there ain't a great deal I can be doing about that.

My friend might die. That happens. If you're deterministic enough to say that it's possible for actions to bring specific consequences, then you're deterministic enough to acknowledge that those actions were in themselves consequences, so coulda and shoulda can't really be applied with any sense of meaningful authority.

Barebacking is to HIV what a short dress is to rape?

Saturday, May 06, 2006

Making a Living out of Dying

Strange position to find myself in at the moment, being offered work as a journalist for an HIV charity's magazine. I can't help but find myself wondering at whether or not this is a sensible thing for me to get involved with. Obviously, I want the journalistic experience, it's a matter close to my heart and I think I have useful things to say to people about the issues around HIV. However, I feel slightly odd about getting work off the back of my HIV status and could see how readily not the charity itself, but the general HIV third-sector industry could be somewhere that I could exploit the combination of my skill set and my status to make relatively rapid progress.

I've encountered a few people who are HIV+ as a career and I think it bears the same complextities as the people who are Professional Gays or working in and with whichever other minoritiy issue. The temptation to become immersed in it seems rife and I think I want to be careful to avoid that.