what i did on my poz diagnosis
good friday and my memorizing that particular stanza of 'the cremation of sam macgee,' how could the results have been any different? i remember walking towards the hospital and reciting that one stanza. thinking that that was what i was doing: i guessed i was cooked and it was time i looked; so that door i opened wide. my results were much more predictable than the poem's though. i also remember walking and being very nervous and thinking that the only thing i will be getting this day is knowledge, nothing inside me is changing i will just have more knowledge about what is going on than i did before. they took a bunch of blood, having forgotten to take part of it they needed to stick me in my other arm, while i was waiting for the results of my quick test. i went to the bathroom after they were done so that if the results were poz i would have an empty bladder. as i was in there i went through the whole poem, but got stuck on the stanza i had been going over as i walked to the hospital. i did my best to ignore the inauspiciousness of that sign and said 'oh well, i'll look at it when i get back to the room.' as i entered the room, i saw the project coordinator as well as my study nurse in there and thought: oh shit. the project coordinator told me right away that the test had come back poz.
they showed me the test stick and told me how it was interpreted. i felt a little odd, a little light headed i guess, and maybe a little queasy too. they did mention that there was a 1 percent chance of a false positive so they would be sending a sample out to do the more definitive tests. they gave me something to drink, gatorade or something like that, after i said i felt a little light. i didn't cry much, only when i focused on some of the people in my life who would be hurt by this: my nieces, parents, friends. i did mention that it would take some time for the information/realization to settle in. they asked if i had been sick at any time and i was a little under the weather around february, but just tired and achy for about a week, nothing that struck me as especially noteworthy though, no nightsweats or rash which is what i had been looking for as a sign. i felt like i should be reacting differently, they were both sitting there and not really saying much. i didn’t have any questions really except for asking ‘how was i reacting?’ they kind of laughed and said everyone asks that and everyone reacts differently. i thought to myself that it was not surprising that everyone asks that because i felt a little like i was on display, like i was being watched to see if something would happen. i didn’t say that to them because i didn’t want to be unpleasant. they told me that what they would do is to send out blood for a more definitive test, and also check my t-cells and viral load. they said the results of these tests should be ready in about a week, which is a couple of days from now. they asked what i had planned, and i really didn't have anything planned. they gave me an assignment: have a good lunch, call my therapist and talk to my good friend. on my way out other people who were working on the study stopped by for, i don’t know, a show of support or sympathy or something well meaning like that. it was nice.
i completed all three assigned tasks and was pretty proud of myself. i called my therapist as soon as i left the hospital and cracked a little while leaving the message. i also called the poz guy i had been seeing lately, just to talk, but he was not around. i wasn’t really interested in eating and meandered a bit before i settled down on a place to eat. i had soup and a salad and ordered them one after the other because i wasn’t sure how my eating would go, my worry about getting sick seemed real. after i left i went to the adult bookstore across the street but found no one of interest, or who seemed to be interested so i left. i went back to my apartment and thought a lot. my therapist called back and we spoke a bit, she strongly recommended that i talk to my friend, which was the one recommendation that i was considering not following through on, but she knew the questions to ask in order to get me to call him. i did call shortly afterwards and left a message to call back. i also ate a good dinner though i can’t remember what i had. the poz guy called back and i told him what happened, i don’t think he was the guy i got it from and even if he were i knew what i was getting into. he was supportive and hopefully we will get together soon. i watched my british sitcoms on pbs and my friend called back, while he was very upset we had a nice conversation and i was glad i had talked to him. the people at nyu had actually recommended that i not be alone that night, but talking on the phone was enough contact for me. i slept well and peacefully as far as i can remember.
and that’s the way i spent my first day diagnosed as poz.
they showed me the test stick and told me how it was interpreted. i felt a little odd, a little light headed i guess, and maybe a little queasy too. they did mention that there was a 1 percent chance of a false positive so they would be sending a sample out to do the more definitive tests. they gave me something to drink, gatorade or something like that, after i said i felt a little light. i didn't cry much, only when i focused on some of the people in my life who would be hurt by this: my nieces, parents, friends. i did mention that it would take some time for the information/realization to settle in. they asked if i had been sick at any time and i was a little under the weather around february, but just tired and achy for about a week, nothing that struck me as especially noteworthy though, no nightsweats or rash which is what i had been looking for as a sign. i felt like i should be reacting differently, they were both sitting there and not really saying much. i didn’t have any questions really except for asking ‘how was i reacting?’ they kind of laughed and said everyone asks that and everyone reacts differently. i thought to myself that it was not surprising that everyone asks that because i felt a little like i was on display, like i was being watched to see if something would happen. i didn’t say that to them because i didn’t want to be unpleasant. they told me that what they would do is to send out blood for a more definitive test, and also check my t-cells and viral load. they said the results of these tests should be ready in about a week, which is a couple of days from now. they asked what i had planned, and i really didn't have anything planned. they gave me an assignment: have a good lunch, call my therapist and talk to my good friend. on my way out other people who were working on the study stopped by for, i don’t know, a show of support or sympathy or something well meaning like that. it was nice.
i completed all three assigned tasks and was pretty proud of myself. i called my therapist as soon as i left the hospital and cracked a little while leaving the message. i also called the poz guy i had been seeing lately, just to talk, but he was not around. i wasn’t really interested in eating and meandered a bit before i settled down on a place to eat. i had soup and a salad and ordered them one after the other because i wasn’t sure how my eating would go, my worry about getting sick seemed real. after i left i went to the adult bookstore across the street but found no one of interest, or who seemed to be interested so i left. i went back to my apartment and thought a lot. my therapist called back and we spoke a bit, she strongly recommended that i talk to my friend, which was the one recommendation that i was considering not following through on, but she knew the questions to ask in order to get me to call him. i did call shortly afterwards and left a message to call back. i also ate a good dinner though i can’t remember what i had. the poz guy called back and i told him what happened, i don’t think he was the guy i got it from and even if he were i knew what i was getting into. he was supportive and hopefully we will get together soon. i watched my british sitcoms on pbs and my friend called back, while he was very upset we had a nice conversation and i was glad i had talked to him. the people at nyu had actually recommended that i not be alone that night, but talking on the phone was enough contact for me. i slept well and peacefully as far as i can remember.
and that’s the way i spent my first day diagnosed as poz.
posted by cosmaz at 6:32 AM
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