Got a letter through today, telling me I should make an appointment for a flu/pneumonia jab because I'm on the list of people who need that kind of thing. That's nice to know - apparently I'm frail. I won't complain, though - the thought of a winter without the flu is a nice one and not to be sniffed at (sorry). Still, I think it kinda highlights how the GP and the specialists give me totally different takes on HIV. The GP gives me antibiotics every time I go, "just in case" even when it's obvious that it's just something that everyone's getting and thinks I need a flu jab because my immune system is compromised.
It's not; not yet, at least. I've got a CD4 count of 444 and a viral load of 22,691 - according to received wisdom, it's unlikely I'll have an immune system that's compromised for another five to ten years. I don't have a co-infection of hepatitis or anything else. When the GP's so twitchy about my HIV status, it makes me wonder what it must feel like to be someone who doesn't have good specialist care at their disposal and is only given that concerned look every time they go to complain about a bad back or anything.
It's funny - I'm also being encouraged to apply for a grant that I am only entitled to ask for if I'm prepared to say that I'm disabled, which I think the DDA says I am, kinda, now. Doesn't make it terribly comfortable, though, to be ticking a box and wondering what questions they'll ask and what they'll do with that information. It's funny, before, when I was ill with PTSD and had a psychiatric diagnosis and was on medication and the like, I was quite happy to be disabled, but this, which is clearly not my fault, I'm ashamed of.
I wonder if there's still some issues to work through about the whole thing. I'm sure I can understand how people wind up saying things like that they're Poz and Proud and all that, but I don't want that, nor do I want people's sympathy when I say I'm positive. There is still that odd dissonance about the distinction between the friends who know and the friends who don't know. Sometimes it's just not come up in conversation, so it's tricky, thinking that they might feel left out by not knowing.
The headfuck of HIV is more of a disability than having fewer white blood cells of a particular variety than I used to.
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.
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I've just searched you out and found the blog again. I was quite upset a while ago when I found that it had been made private. How can he invite me to read it I thought. He doesn't know me. Glad to have found that you are still as eloquent as ever, and that your health seems to be stable.
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