HIV testing

OK this is my first (and most probably last) confessional style post:

I had my 4th HIV test today. The results were negative thankfully. I am a victim of medical research on the Internet: you tick off a couple of symptoms and imagine the worst case scenario (I also tested negative for bilharzia - that was someone leaving a comment on my blog after my swim in Usman Dam). I'm worried about my persistent malaria (the Internet also tells of a hypothetical malarial superbug evolving sometime soon, when artemesin combination therapy begins to lose its grip). I think its time to go for a long-term herbal solution and focus on a liver cleansing diet rather than go for yet more drugs. I will be well..

I had my first HIV test in Hull in 1989. I'd spent the summer after my A levels enjoying myself on a kibbutz in Israel (free love amongst the volunteers and with some of the very beautiful Israeli women). Aids was beginning to be a scary illness at that time, with talk of a potential pandemic. Someone had died from AIDS in my village in the mid 1980's, so the consciousness of having unsafe sex was around. I belong to the 'always wear a condom generation'; something a little harder to transfer to for guys in their 40's in my experience. I waited in the corridor for my results, musing on my fate. A nurse came up and said, "Its ok, you haven't got it. You can go now."

Obviously, HIV counselling has come a long way since then. I had my second test nearly two years ago in Abuja at the National Hospital. My immune system had crashed after malaria. I convinced myself that I was HIV positive. The day of collecting the results was hell. When I got the result and it said 'negative' for a few moments I wasn't sure whether that was good or bad. There'd been no rational reason to suspect I should be positive, it was just hyponchondria and paranoia mixed together in a vicious head spinning cocktail. I was so worried and confused about the worst case outcome that I couldnt think straight in the days leading up to the result.

The third test was done as a matter of course at the Hospital for Tropical Diseases in London last July, together with 10 other tests. Again, my immune system had crashed and I felt like my body was slowly shutting down on me. It turned out to be a cumulative resistance to wheat and gluten that had messed up my gut. As is widely known, one's immune system crashes when either the liver or the gut becomes inflamed or stressed. My immunity picked up after 3 months without bread (I still cannot stomach it). I had the fourth test today because of the malaria again. This time around, I was much more calm about the potentially bad news. I've managed to rationalise such prospects. How?

Well, first, I think its important to test for these things. Knowing means you can do something about it (at least if you are a privileged westerner). If I was a poor Nigerian, I'd probably prefer not to know, because knowing might hardly help - unless I had access to strong immune system boosting herbs (some of them seem to be just as good as ARV's from what people say). But being one of the privileged few, being positive these days doesn't really cut one's potential lifespan. There is solid understanding of how to keep the virus/bacteria resisting t-cells active and the viral load down using the classic combination therapies. Therefore, if there is anyone out there worried about their status, I recommend you steel yourself and go for the test. You can still lead a healthy normal life. Take responsibility for your body and don't be afraid.

The other thing I told myself is that we all are on a death sentence. Being positive is just a different form of sentence. Life is so short and precious. Its now time to address my many failings and see if I can become a better person. Like anyone else, I'm full of bad habits and zones of insensitivity But first, there's still this bloody falciparum to deal with. [confession over and out].