Twenty
years ago today…. a day I’ll never forget yet one I barely remember much about.
It was the end of two weeks of terrible anxiety; it was the beginning of a
whole new experience. My life changed that day, and all I can really remember about
it after the pivotal moment is chewing on my keyring.
The only other thing I remember was the edge of a dream. I was working the
overnight counselor shift at the rehab residence and kind of drifted off while
sitting on one of the sofas. Somewhere in it I saw my grandmother and
grandfather who had both passed. And they told me that I was going to be OK, that
I would do what I had to do. I can’t say I wondered what it meant. While I don’t
think it registered consciously, at some level I knew. Given where I had to be
just a few long hours later and the fearful anxiety of the previous two weeks,
how could I not?
It still didn’t lessen the impact in that room in Binghamton later that
morning. When a young woman sat across the table from me and said what I’d been
dreading for two weeks: the test results were positive. I was HIV+.
I remember
just sitting there, stunned, my then-friend Dennis putting his arm around me. I don’t
remember if I cried or anything. I can’t say if I broke at all that day. There
was paperwork to be signed, and appointments to be made. I think I did it, but
it was just automatic reaction. At some point we left and Dennis made sure I
ate something. We must have gone back to his apartment since that’s where me
truck was. At some point I made the drive back home.
I know I told my then-partner that same day. I don’t remember how or when or
even where. I don’t even remember exactly how he reacted, except that I know it
was with support and love.
All I remember clearly is chewing that damn keyring. I think I killed it.
And now, it’s 20 years later. I know it’s OK that I don’t remember all of it. I
remember what my grandparents told me that morning, and they were right. I did
what I had to do.
