I did my HIV screening test
today. Let me not sound like it was the first time I had been screened for the then-dreaded
disease because it’s not. It was actually my third screening. That does not
mean that I am faithful to the once-in-three month’s recommended screening
dose. I am not so as I waited patiently for the result I felt all kinds of
emotions running up and down.
The first of those emotions was
disdain. I wondered why I had stopped at the volunteers’ desk. After all that
was not the first in recent times I had seen them. I recall being accosted by
them the Thursday before.
“It’s free, Please come and test
for HIV”, the volunteer had said.
I shook my head vigorously and
said I had already been tested. That was not a lie; I had been tested twice so
I hated my actions more even now. If only I had not been concerned of how these
ladies would react if I walked away as if I was already a confirmed carrier.
Maybe it was because I knew both of them personally. I tried to calm myself
down but it was pointless. Anyone who looked at me could tell how nervous I was
from my shifty eyes.
I also felt fear creeping all
over me. I think that was the deepest emotion of them all. I was scared and I
was angry at my fear.
“What if I was confirmed a
carrier?” I asked myself over and over again.
I thought about the countless
things that would fill my to-do lists. I even thought the possibility of
ignoring the result and the need for after-care. For someone who had worked as
a volunteer with the Anti-Retro-Viral Therapy (ART) Centre in my hometown, I was
obviously dealing with this very badly. I guess nothing prepares for anyone for
dealing with HIV. And this has nothing to do with being a ‘good’ girl. When you
know that you have been exposed, even to barest minimum, to blood, you can ask
for the kind of mercy I was now seeking.
I watched as the Volunteer tore
out a test script, I let my eyes rest on her hands. Even when she picked up
that small needle, this did not change. The prick was slight. The last two
times I have had to do the test, I had blood sucked out of me with a syringe.
In those two instances, I did not even know that I was being tested for the
virus. The first was when I was fresh out of secondary school. I had begun to
lose my baby-fat at a very alarming rate. What was most surprising was that the
fat I had maintained in the boarding house was beginning to varnish on my
return home. My mother panicked and sent me off to the doctor as fast as she
could with the mandate to get to the root of the problem. And so the tests
began. For every visit I came back home with a bag of medicine and a syringe full
of blood lesser. My pleas that I was in good health were ignored by both my
mother and the doctor so I resigned myself to the treatments for who–knows-what
sickness. The doctor stared at me one fateful day and said, “There is one last
test that I’d need you to do”.
That moment I knew I was going to
get screened. I waited for him to give me a name as I understood it to be my
right. He did not tell me what the test was for until the results came out but
I did not care. I was happy there was no cause for alarm.
The second was when I started
this job in this company in the food sector whose policy was to run blood test
for employees. Just tests - no information as to the nature. It was not until
there was a health issue that the employee concerned was brought in. In other
words, just give us your blood and go. Thankfully, my position gave me the
opportunity to view my results.
Was I also scared on those occasions?
Very!
The fear of the unknown is something
alarming especially if it is for deadly diseases. I have long outgrown the age
of looking at HIV as the deadliest of diseases so this has nothing to do with
the name.
“Is my result not ready?” I asked
impatiently.
I tried to read her facial
expression as she peered into strip that was marked with my blood but read
nothing. It was not until her counselling was halfway through that calmness
found its way to me.
As I walked down to the building
that housed my interim office, I thought of the countless tests that was
recommended for me that I was yet to do. Ma always said that ignorant is bliss
but I know that this is not sweeping in real life. As much as I would like to
get through with some of them, I know they will always be medical tests that
will remain outstanding for even the longest time. I hope my fear conquers most
of them.
Keep faith...
